Page 13 of The Billionaire's Distraction

“Let her through!”Tony barked.

Immediately, his men stepped aside.Naomi stumbled forward, wild-eyed, her breath coming in sharp gasps.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he growled, grabbing her arm and yanking her farther from the mysterious box.He shifted his weight, angled to shield her from the potential blast.Rage and fear collided in his chest—what the hell was she thinking?

“It’s my fault!”she gasped.

Her words stopped him cold.

His head snapped toward her, confusion tearing at his focus even as he continued scanning the crowd.Someone in that sea of faces—someone—wanted blood.He couldn’t let himself be distracted.And yet—

“They’re just cupcakes!”she whispered fiercely, grabbing his hand and squeezing it.“I dropped off a box of cupcakes this morning!”

For a beat, Tony stared at her.Cupcakes?That’swhat was in the box?He should have dismissed it as nonsense.But the raw desperation in her voice, the tears shimmering in her lashes, and his chest tightened painfully.

Her hair had come loose from its ponytail, strands whipping across her flushed cheeks in the wind.She looked frantic, beautiful in a way that clawed at him, dangerous in a way that had nothing to do with bombs.The leggings clung faithfully to her curves, that damn tee-shirt teasing what it covered, and he caught himself wanting—needing—to rip it away to see her, to ground himself in something solid, something alive.

But then he saw it: a single tear sliding free, streaking down her cheek.

“What are you saying?”he asked, forcing his tone low, gentling it as much as he could manage.But inside, his body was coiled tight, ready to pin her against the nearest tree and—hell—kiss her.Kiss her in broad daylight, in front of half the damn city.Something he wouldneverdo.His liaisons were private.Brief.Tightly controlled.Not this.Never this.

“It’s all my fault!”Naomi gasped, her voice trembling.“All of this.”She flung a hand toward the bomb squad, including the armored men and the robot now lifting the white box with its stiff, mechanical claws.Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.“I just wanted to thank you for your help with the boys yesterday.”She shook her head, lowering her gaze as her dark ponytail slipped forward.“The box you’re about to blow up… it contains the cupcakes I made for you last night.”

Tony just stared.A bomb squad.Half the block evacuated.His servers locked down.All for a box of cupcakes?He dragged a hand across his mouth, fighting the burn of an unexpected laugh.

Naomi’s head jerked up, her eyes flashing.“Don’t youdarelaugh at me!”she hissed, her cheeks flaming.She glanced over her shoulder where the squad was loading the white box into a heavy metal cannister.“This is humiliating enough already.”

“Stop!”Tony bellowed, his voice slicing through the chaos.Everyone froze.Even the robot’s mechanical whine cut off as the operator paused mid-command.

Tony looked down at her.She was pressed against the tree where he’d anchored her, arms wrapped around her waist like she was struggling to hold herself together.A tear clung to the corner of her eye, breaking him in a way no explosion ever could.He bent, just enough to brush his lips against the crown of her head, a fleeting touch he hadn’t planned and couldn’t resist.“I’ll be right back,” he murmured.

When he turned, his temper spiked.Sal was crossing the street, Gianna nowhere in sight.Tony swore under his breath.The boss of their entire empire should be miles away from a possible bomb.But of course Sal wouldn’t hide while his men were in danger.That wasn’t who he was.

Grinding his teeth, Tony strode forward, ignoring the shouted protests of the bomb techs.The box sat in its cannister, dull and ordinary, but the tension crackling around it was electric.

He flipped the lid open with one swift motion.Gasps erupted.Then silence.

Inside, a dozen cupcakes sat, swirls of glossy chocolate frosting dusted with iridescent sprinkles caught the light.Tony chose one, raised it high in the air, and—because he couldn’t resist—took a bite.Sweet vanilla sponge cake and rich, chocolate buttercream frosting melted on his tongue.

Swallowing the sweet, chocolatey goodness, he nodded approval.“False alarm!”he barked, his mouth half full.He held the box out to the bomb squad’s captain.

For a moment the man stared, then his grim expression cracked into a grin.He plucked a cupcake from the box and chuckled.“Best false alarm we’ve ever had,” he said, turning to his team.“Wrap it up, boys!”

Laughter rippled through the squad as tension immediately began to drain away.

Tony handed the container to one of his men, already pivoting, his focus locked on the woman waiting beneath the tree.He wanted her soft arms around his neck, not hugging herself.He wanted her pressed against him, trembling with desire, not humiliation.Maybe he could wring another kiss from her—this time not on the top of her head.

But before he could take a step, one of his analysts, Tim, skidded to a halt in front of him, tablet clutched tight.“I’m sorry, sir!”he blurted.“I saw the woman deliver the box, but she just… looked too innocent.I should’ve cross-checked it, run facial recognition the second the alarm went off.”

Tony’s jaw flexed hard enough to crack, but he laid a heavy hand on the young man’s shoulder.“It’s okay.This false alarm showed us a weakness in the system.We’ll fix it.”

And if you ever screw up again,he thought grimly,you’ll wish the cupcakeshadbeen a bomb.

The mistake was going to cost him—another fat donation to the police association to keep their cooperation smooth.But it had also given him something else.Another moment with Naomi.

The crowd thinned as the squad packed up, the danger gone.His men returned to their posts, the neighborhood settling back into its illusion of peace.Tony should’ve gone with them.He should’ve been barking orders about surveillance failures, demanding to know why Naomi’s face hadn’t triggered their protocols the second she stepped onto his porch.Something had gone wrong with his system.

He’d figure it out.Later.