Winning the Billionaire (Seattle Bachelors Book 2) (4 page)

The corners of his mouth twitched. Damn it, he couldn’t help it. He was half tempted to refuse in order to see her do it. He wasn’t into BDSM, but he might be persuaded to try if he knew she’d be the one tying him up.

“Fine.” He chose to sit instead, because the food smelled delicious, and his stomach protested loudly. Besides, he’d done enough to her for one day. She stood beside him like a pissed off mama bear, hovering and studying his every move, no doubt because she really was worried. She’d gone through the trouble to cook. The least he could do was eat.

One bite into the omelet she’d made had him groaning with delight. “God, this is good.”

She’d made him potatoes, too, tender on the inside, crisp on the outside. The eggs were light and fluffy and cheesy. Exactly the way he liked his breakfast.

“When was the last time you ate, Baz?”

He darted a glance at her as he took a couple swallows of the orange juice on the counter. The expression on her face caught him. She looked relieved. The anger from before had gone. Instead, anxiousness creased her brow.

“I can’t help it. I worry about you.” She laid a hand against his shoulder, her palm warm through the material of his T-shirt.

His shoulders slumped, his gut sinking into his toes. How the hell did she expect him to resist her when she met his every attempt to push her off with that sweet smile?

He couldn’t. Damn it.

“I don’t know. Sometime yesterday. I skipped dinner in favor of paperwork when the hospital called.” He released a heavy sigh. “I really don’t deserve you being this nice to me. I’ve been a jerk. I’m sorry.”

Because I need you too much.
The words caught on the tip of his tongue, but Sebastian swallowed them down. Needing distance, lest he tell her all that and then some, he abandoned breakfast and slid off the stool, making his way into the living room. He stopped at the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the far wall. He’d bought this place for this reason alone: the beautiful view of Elliott Bay. He’d spend hours here, mulling over the day’s problems, but today, the view did nothing to soothe his stress.

Christina made him want too much, and his father’s stipulations meant he had to marry or forfeit the company he’d spent his adult life building. He had no intention of complying, but no idea either how the hell he’d get his company back. He’d have to talk to his lawyer.

“Today I’ll give you a pass.”

Her voice sounded behind him, full of quiet amusement and gentle sympathy. Why she always met him with her sweet disposition, he didn’t know. He didn’t deserve her.

He tossed a smile over his shoulder. “Well, I appreciate it.”

He meant that. More than he could possibly tell her.

Christina followed him into the living room, coming to stand behind him. “You don’t have to do this alone, Baz.”

The pain rose over him, constricting his chest. Her soft concern did what it always did—made him want to confide in her. Some part of his brain told him not to say the words, but as he moved to the sofa and sank, they tumbled from his mouth, unbidden. She was right. He didn’t want to be alone, and her caring heart called to the part of him that needed it. “I have so many regrets and so much anger. My whole life was about pleasing him. All I ever wanted was for him to tell me he was proud of me, to tell me he loved me, and he couldn’t. Because I reminded him of her. Nothing was ever good enough.”

He’d spent his life being his father’s greatest disappointment. He’d graduated from Harvard’s school of business at the top of his class, had earned his MBA in a year and three months, because he’d worked his ass off for it. Never mind that his father had all but given up on the resorts and
he’d
been the one to take the company worldwide.

“Have they read the will yet?” Christina followed, taking a seat beside him.

Her soft perfume swirled around him like a lure, something subtle and flowery and feminine. Her body heat called to him. It was all he could do not to lean over and inhale the clean, feminine scent of her hair. “I met with my father’s lawyer early this morning. My father had everything taken care of. It’s the way he handled everything, including dealing with me.”

“What happened?”

He shook his head, bile rising with the anger in his stomach. “Gwen, his twenty-five-year-old wife, gets everything. She gets his entire estate, though the money gets divided between us. The hotels and resorts are mine on one condition. I have three months to find a wife, and I have to stay married for a year. If I don’t comply, the company reverts to her, the surviving spouse. I’m allowed to keep my job as CEO, but the company will be hers, to do with as she sees fit.”

“Meaning, she quite literally gets everything. Baz, I’m sorry.” She stared for a moment, eyes searching, conflicted, then slid an arm around him, gathering him closer, and he went, leaning into her in turn. He ought to put a stop to this, get up, go back to bed, but right then, she was everything he needed: kind and compassionate and soothing.

She leaned back on the sofa, pulling him with her, and he lay down beside her, resting his head in her lap. Long moments passed in comfortable silence. Her slender fingers, with her perfectly manicured nails, slid across his scalp over and over, a comforting rhythm as she stroked through his hair. She petted him like a child, or perhaps someone she cared about. Nobody had touched him like this in a long time. Christina’s touched soothed the ache inside, and the last of his resistance melted.

“Will you stay?” The words slid off his tongue on a hoarse whisper, and as he waited for her reply, vulnerability rose over him. She had pieces of him he’d never shared with anyone else, and he wasn’t certain she knew it. Wasn’t certain he could ever tell her or allow the feelings to develop. For today, though, she was here, and he couldn’t resist her anymore.

She smoothed his hair back off his forehead. “I’ll stay.”

Christina came awake with a start. Forgetting where she was for a moment, she blinked up at the cathedral ceiling. The room around her was quiet, save the soft breathing in her ear. The warm breaths against her neck and the heat of a body against her side had the day rushing back at her. She was still at Sebastian’s.

She turned her head, peering at his face. Eyes closed, features slack, he looked like he hadn’t a care in the world. He held her tightly to him, and Christina smiled, wistfulness rising over her. After he’d laid his head in her lap, they’d sat in silence for quite a while. He hadn’t gotten up, and she hadn’t pushed him to. She didn’t have anywhere to be today, and when he’d fallen asleep, she’d shifted to lie beside him. He’d gathered her to him, wrapping his arms so tightly around her she could feel his every heartbeat.

Her chest ached for him. Sebastian wasn’t a talker. He was a physical person. His diversions appeared to be physical as well. Running. Women. His father’s death had obviously left him a place he didn’t know how to handle.

As narrow as the sofa was, they’d become entangled in each other as they slept. He’d flung his left arm over her stomach and one heavy leg lay between both of hers, pinning her. Spike had curled up at their feet, in a corner of the sofa, warming her ankles.

Sebastian had buried his face in her neck, and his warm breaths teased her skin. Every puff sent shivers down her spine. If she was honest with herself, she reveled in the strength of his embrace, in the solid warmth of him. Even the way their bodies fit together. She’d long wondered what this would feel like, to lie within the shelter of his arms. Like a lover. It surprised her now natural it felt, like taking a breath, as if they’d done this for years. Nobody had held her like this in a while, either, and she needed him the way he appeared to need her.

He shifted in his sleep, burrowing his face deeper into her throat. When he began to nuzzle her skin, his soft lips skimming her neck, her heartbeat ratcheted up a notch. No doubt he was dreaming, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop him. The more logical side of her brain warned that she was heading into dangerous territory, but his soft lips on her skin were irresistible. How many times had she imagined exactly this? Him holding her, kissing her, telling her he wanted her. How many times had she fantasized about being with him?

He moaned in his sleep, a quiet little
hmm
against her throat, and pulled her impossibly tighter against him. His hips rocked forward, his solid erection sliding against her thigh.

Desire curled through her, and she rolled toward him, gathered him closer and let him do what he wanted. To allow herself the luxury of reveling in his touch was taking advantage for sure. He was asleep, no doubt dreaming about some other woman, but far too many months had passed since a man’s hands had touched her so intimately. That the touch was Sebastian’s provided a lure she couldn’t resist.

Oh, she’d had her fair share of one-night stands. They came with her name and her title. Her software development company had done well. She was a computer geek, a programmer at heart, but her success meant she’d met a few gold diggers in her life. Men appeared to see her as a means to line their pockets or their beds or even as a way into her father’s good graces. She’d met more than a few who were intimidated by her high IQ.

She’d given up ever finding Mr. Right and had settled for Mr. Right Now. Until Craig. She’d met him three years ago. He’d made her fall in love with him, asked her to marry him and flew her out to Vegas to elope. Turned out, Craig was a playboy, and he’d mixed up his dates, because another woman had shown up that day. She and the woman had sat and talked and laughed, both waiting for their lovers to arrive. Until Craig showed up and they’d both gone to greet him. She’d never forget the look on his face. He’d been caught and he knew it. She’d fled and hadn’t seen him again since.

From that day forward, she’d gone into relationships with her eyes wide open, determined never to play the fool again. Sebastian, however, was the one man who held her heart in his hands. He reminded her how much she craved something real. Never mind that he slept, unaware of himself or his actions. To touch him, to encourage his stroking, was invasive at best.

She couldn’t deny she wanted him, though. How often over the years had he starred in her erotic fantasies? How many orgasms had she had while imagining his hands and his mouth on her body? And here he was, doing exactly that, after all those scorching kisses in the kitchen earlier. She could only be so strong. God help her, her hips arched against his, her clit throbbing to the pulse of her hammering heartbeat.

Sebastian’s eyes fluttered open, sleepy and heavy-lidded. For a moment, he blinked, staring at her, as if trying to remember where he was. Nose to nose now, taking every breath with him, all she could do was wait. She couldn’t move for fear she’d beg him to continue. Or worse, that he’d deny her. If he denied her, pushed her away like he had earlier, dismissed her the way he usually did, it would tear her up inside. She needed this tiny connection to him, however wrong it was to want it.

Finally, recognition dawned in his eyes and the arm holding her pinned against his body relaxed. He scooted away from her as much as the space would allow, setting inches between them that felt like miles. “I’m sorry. I was dreaming.”

Christina watched him for a moment, heart hammering her breastbone. She’d always promised herself if the moment ever presented itself, she’d never give in to him, but his kisses and erotic touches earlier had worn down her defenses. The voice of reason screamed in her head to stop.
Remember Craig?

The question rose on her tongue all the same. Putting it out there was a flat-out risk, but she had to know the answer. It had burned a hole in her brain for hours. “Why’d you kiss me earlier?”

His eyes searched her face, a war waging in the depths. Confusion. Indecision. “I shouldn’t have.”

Christina held her breath. “But why did you?”

He was silent a moment before releasing a heavy sigh. His touch slow and tentative, he stroked a finger along her cheekbone and across her jaw. “Because you caught me in a weak moment. I’m sorry. I was craving a distraction, and you were in the line of fire.”

His words lodged themselves inside of her and stuck there, taunting her with what she wanted so badly she ached with it. Because along with his earlier kisses, his quiet admission hinted that maybe, just maybe, he really did see her as more than Caden’s sister. It didn’t help that he stroked a thumb across her bottom lip with all the familiarity of a tender lover, and her mind took the moment and ran with it. If all she got was one night, wouldn’t it be worth it? A chance to fulfill the fantasy? She could handle one night…couldn’t she?

Not giving herself time to overthink her impulsive decision, Christina pressed along his length. Their clothing did little to separate them, and his thick erection throbbed against her stomach, a luscious lure. Despite the uncertainty and vulnerability rising in his eyes, one hand slid over the curve of her hip and smoothed down over her ass. His palm warmed her backside through the thin fabric of her skirt.

She lifted trembling fingers and sifted them through his hair. Never in all the time she’d known him had she ever been so bold before. She couldn’t stop shaking. “And if I offered to be that distraction?”

She
hoped
he’d gather her closer and kiss her back. Kiss her the way he had earlier in the kitchen, though if he accepted, anything more would have to wait. Caden was due soon. But the need to know his response beat behind her breastbone like the hammering of her pulse.

Instead, regret rose in his eyes. He shook his head and sat up, effectively shutting her out as he moved to take a seat on the edge of the sofa.

He set his feet on the floor, his body stiff beside her. “I appreciate the sentiment, Tina, I really do, but I can’t.”

For a moment, she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as she processed his words. As his rejection finally sank in, hurt and disappointment reverberated through her chest. Heat flooded her face. How utterly embarrassing. Of course he wouldn’t see her as anything other than Caden’s sister. And here she was, throwing herself at him.