Page 40 of The Billionaire in Her Bed

“What about my sister?” She scanned the rooftop for Mallory and spotted her helping one of the waiters cut and plate the cake.

“What about her?” He pulled her back to him and pressed his cheek to hers. Under her palm, his heart beat as wildly as hers.

She closed her eyes and listened to the music. Eric Clapton’s “Wonderful Tonight.” Fitting. The night had been pretty darned wonderful. She sighed and let go of her last shred of doubt, letting herself drown in the music and the moment and the man. “I told her I’d help with the cleanup.”

“She’s got staff. You’ve done enough.” Eli spun her around in a slow circle so she could take it all in. The sun, which had been setting during the ceremony, was long gone, and the white LEDs twinkled against the backdrop of the cloudless blue-black sky. “Look at this place. You transformed a half-finished garden into a rooftop paradise.”

“Like I said, I had help.”

“Every team needs a leader.”

His cheek brushed her hair, and his hand slid up her back in a gentle caress. He shifted his grip on her hand so his thumb was back to its old tricks, teasing her palm with soft circles. Like before, the simple touch set off a tsunami inside her.

“Okay, let’s go.” She rested her cheek against his shoulder. “But I have to let my sister know I’m leaving. And I’m grabbing us a couple of pieces of cake. It’s chocolate almond, with raspberry mousse and a chocolate ganache. I never pass up chocolate.”

“I like the way you think.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head that should have been platonic but only served to whip her already crazed hormones into a frenzy. “I’ll snag a bottle of champagne and meet you at my place in five minutes.”

“Why your place?”

“It’s about twenty feet closer. And I don’t want to wait any longer than necessary to have you naked and underneath me.”

“You sure know how to sweet-talk a girl.” She toyed with a button on his shirt, two fingers slipping between what felt like two-hundred-thread-count Egyptian cotton to stroke his bare flesh. Two could play this game. “But who says I’ll be underneath you?”

His eyes darkened to a velvety blue, and the heartbeat under her hand stuttered. “Good point.”

He slid a finger under her chin, lifted her face to his, and kissed her again. No prelude, no hesitation, nothing platonic about it this time. He dipped his head to hers and claimed her mouth like it was his for the taking, no matter where they were or who was watching.

When he was finished, he stepped back, brushed a loose hair behind her ear, and headed for the bar, leaving her dazed and wanting in the middle of the dance floor. Heart pounding, she navigated on shaky legs through the crowd of dancers and found Mallory still doling out cake.

“That was some kiss,” her sister said, not wasting any time getting into the thick of things.

“Oh. You saw.”

“Everyone saw. You two weren’t exactly subtle.” Mallory continued to cut and plate cake, her knife working quickly and efficiently. “This guy must be special. I thought you hated PDA.”

“If I take off, will you be okay cleaning up without me?” Brooke asked, ignoring her sister’s implication.

“Fine. Don’t answer me. And yes, you can go get down and dirty with your new boy toy. I’ve got plenty of help.” Mallory handed her two pieces of cake. “Get out of here.”

“You know I love you.” Brooke took both plates and grabbed a third for good measure. “Lunch Tuesday? Anywhere but Heirloom.”

“Sounds good. I’ll text you.”

Carefully balancing the cake plates, Brooke made her way down the stairs to Eli’s apartment. The door was open a crack, so she shouldered her way through, set the plates down on the counter that separated the kitchen from the rest of the apartment, and untied her sandals so she could pull them off. Why she’d thought she could wear those things for more than an hour without killing her feet was a mystery. She leaned against the counter and wiggled her relieved toes. Maybe she could convince Eli to give her another foot rub. Without any interruptions.

“What took you so long?”

His voice drifted across the apartment, lit by a solitary lamp. She turned to see him sitting in shadow on the bed. He’d already stripped off his tie, which lay discarded on the floor, and was working on the buttons of his shirt.

She took a step toward him. “Not wasting any time, I see.”

“I told you.” The shirt hit the floor next to the tie, and he started on his pants, sliding his belt from its buckle. “I’m not waiting one second longer than necessary to fuck you.”

“Then I’d better get naked.” Her fingers found the zipper at the back of her dress and pulled it down. She could feel his eyes on her as she slipped it off her shoulders, wriggled it down to her feet and kicked it to one side, leaving her standing in front of him in only a lacy black demi bra and a thong.

He stood and shucked off his pants, his hungry eyes continuing to roam over her. “Come here.”

She returned the favor, her gaze eating him up like he was a decadent, seductive desert, yummier than the chocolate almond cake that sat all but forgotten on the counter. Christ, he was magnificent, all lean muscle and smooth skin. “Make me.”