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‘Thank you, Alex, for a wonderful weekend,’ Eleanor said, the fake smile still in place. ‘I’ll remember it always.’

He frowned.Really?She was planning to just walk away now?

He’d expected her to ask if they would see each other again. Giving him the opening to tell her to pack a bag and come with him, so they could enjoy Christmas—his schedule allowing—the way they’d enjoyed Thanksgiving.

He had to get back to work, but he wanted her waiting for him in the evenings. He’d planned to give her a credit card and put a car and driver at her disposal. She was independent and resourceful and the shopping and sightseeing opportunities alone should keep her from getting bored while he was at work.

But she hadn’t said a word about wanting more from him all weekend—unlike all the other women he’d ever dated.

He would have appreciated the irony—that the ‘where do we go from here?’ conversation he hated had failed to materialise the one time he wanted it to—if he weren’t facing the bigger irony of having to bring it up himself.

But as she headed down the helicopter’s steps he realised he was all out of alternative options.

Undoing his own belt, he headed after her.

She’d made it across the lot and almost to her boss, before he could catch her. What the hell? She was practically sprinting away from him.

‘Hold up, Eleanor.’ He caught her elbow.

Just like before, a crowd had gathered. He ignored them. Having an audience was the least of his worries, it seemed, when he spotted the blank look in her eyes.

‘That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say?’ he asked, then wanted to kick himself.

It almost sounded needy. He didn’t do needy. He didn’tneedEleanor MacGregor in his life, hewantedher, until this constant hunger had died. Big difference.

‘What more is there to say?’ she said, still looking at him with that wide-eyed innocence. He wasn’t buying it. She’d had as much fun as he had. ‘I have to go back to work now...to my real life,’ she said. ‘And so do you.’

‘What about the DNA test we agreed on?’ he asked, inspired. He wasn’t about to beg any woman to move in with him. But she’d said she would do the test. And it was a good Trojan Horse to coax her to Manhattan.

She tugged her arm free. ‘You’re no really serious about that, are you?’

‘Deadly.’

She sighed, looking harassed. ‘Okay, I guess I could post you a sample, if you really want one.’

‘That’s not gonna work for me.’

Her brow creased, her expression becoming confused. ‘I don’t under—’

‘I want you to move in with me,’ he said, suddenly through with beating about the bush. ‘Until after Christmas.’

The frown lifted to be replaced with complete astonishment.

‘It’ll take a couple of weeks to get the results from the lab at this time of year.’ Not true but he could drag it out and make the timing work for him. ‘And then it’ll be Christmas. I figured we’re not through with this... This...’ He shrugged. How did he describe the driving need still pulsing through his system, making him ache constantly? The need that hadn’t been sated by seventy-two hours of non-stop indulgence. ‘Whateverthisis. But another four weeks should get it out of our systems. And we can have more fun while we’re doing it. Manhattan’s at its best this time of year. I can show you the town.’ Again, not something he knew a damn thing about, because he didn’t usually indulge in the festive crap Manhattan laid on for tourists and families and starry-eyed romantics. But he could break another of his golden rules if it got him what he wanted. Namely Eleanor in his bed until New Year. By which time this need would have surely run its course.

But now he thought about it, he would get a kick out of seeing Christmas in the city through her eyes. Roman had texted him to say he was going to be out of town until after Christmas now—something he did every year because Christmas wasn’t a happy season for him since he’d lost his whole family at this time of year—so he didn’t have anyone else to hang out with. And Eleanor would love all that festive crap, because it was new and so different from the sheltered, unsophisticated upbringing she’d been subjected to by parents who had stifled her wild side, deliberately. He, on the other hand, wanted to help her indulge it. And not just in bed, he realised, surprising himself even more.

‘So what do you say?’ he asked, aware of her boss coming towards them now, but confident of getting the right answer. She still looked wary and shocked, but then he had shocked himself a little. She wouldn’t turn him down, because no woman ever had before. And anyway, he was offering something a great deal more enticing than serving drinks and washing barroom floors in Staten Island. ‘Why don’t you go pack?’ He glanced at his phone. ‘I’ll meet you back here in a half-hour.’

Surely she couldn’t have that much stuff, and anyway he could buy her some new gowns for the kind of high-class parties and events he got invited to. Events he was looking forward to actually attending. With someone as vibrant and outspoken and unpredictable as Eleanor on his arm, those VIP events would be less of a chore. He stroked her cheek, because she was still staring at him. He grinned when he felt her familiar shudder of awareness at the slight touch.

You’ve got this, Alex.And it hadn’t even been that hard to ask.

Ellie jerked back, her heart thundering in her chest, the cruel weight pressing against her ribs doing nothing to alleviate her confusion. And panic.

Alex Costa’s offer was the last thing she’d expected. In fact, she’d been determined all weekend not to even think about the possibility of more after Thanksgiving was over.

She’d worked so hard to stave off that feeling of loss, of regret. She’d congratulated herself on managing to smile and bid him goodbye in the same spirit she’d entered into their devil’s bargain in the first place. She’d practically raced across the lot, to get into the bar before she let any of those feelings derail her. Feelings she didn’t want to have and certainly didn’t want to let him see. Because then she’d feel like an insecure fool. The naïve virgin sacrifice he’d once accused her of being.


Tags: Heidi Rice Billionaire Romance