Lahat ng Kabanata ng THE BILLIONAIRE'S AFFAIR : Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

And then I gradually come back to reality.I can’t believe I just did that.IcannotBELIEVE Ijustdid that.I grab a box of tissues out of my desk, and we do our best to clean ourselves up.I kind of want to clean him up – just so I can touch his body again – but I’m too abashed. So I just concentrate on myself.I straighten my skirt, pull on my underwear, and smooth my blouse and hair. He buttons his shirt, tucks it into his pants, but leaves his tie undone, like he’s relaxing at home after a particularly stressful day at work.Embarrassed, I retreat across the room and cross my arms defensively across my chest.“Okay… so that just happened,” I say to myself under my breath.Apparently not quietly enough, because he lights up with a massive smile. “Yes it did.”I cannot BELIEVE I just fucked this guy (although to be fair HOLY SHIT that was mindblowing) in my office. On a Monday morning. Thirty feet away from my coworkers.With a Post-It note on my door telling them I’m in a ‘meet

We’re in my apartment. I drove there in my Audi; Grant arrived in his own private limo.I have to admit, I was a teensy bit jealous.Now he lounges on my bed and watches as I pack a suitcase.“And why do I need to pack, exactly?” I ask.“We’ll be hopping from place to place a lot. I want to be a moving target, not a sitting duck.”“Uh huh,” I say dubiously. I’m still half-convinced this is all just an elaborate excuse to get me naked in his bed for a couple of days.Not that that would be a bad way to spend a couple of days…Focus, Eve, FOCUS. Stop getting turned on.I pull out some bras and panties.“Do I get a show?” he asks.“NO,” I say as I stuff them in the suitcase, although part of me desperately wants to give him one.“Maaaan…” he complains playfully.“For a guy with a serial killer after you, you don’t seem too concerned.”“I’ve got you to help me now.” He says it with a complete lack of sarcasm.“I got news for you: I can flush this guy out from an online trail of breadcrumb

We’re lying in the bed now, side by side, drinking more champagne and eating a selection of fruits and cheeses. I was so embarrassed when the stewardess brought it that I hid in the bathroom – but now that we’re alone, I’m enjoying every bite.“We need to talk about how we’re going to find this guy,” I say.“So tell me,” Grant says. He’s lying on his stomach but he’s still quite distracting, with his golden skin and rippling muscles of his back. And his ass is out of this world. I mean… daaamn. It’s this curve of powerful muscle. Not quite a bubble butt, but just about there. Very distracting. Yet I manage to pull my eyes away and concentrate. “What did your people say about the texts?”“What, besides the fact that they’re unsettling?”“No – about the technical information attached to the phone texts.”“They said there’s nothing they can use. They said he covered his tracks incredibly well.”“What else?”“There is nothing else, so far as I know.” He kisses my ear, and a thrill of p

I wake up the next morning from a deep sleep. I remember last night and all the hot sex, and get a little smile on my face. I reach over for Grant – He’s not there.I immediately get a flashback from when he left me on the balcony. A little bit of anger, a little bit of fear.Asshole!I prop myself up blearily on one elbow – There he is, across the cavernous bedroom, putting on a tie in front of a mirror.God, he’s gorgeous. The suit pants he’s wearing hug his ass perfectly. He’s also got on a beautiful midnight blue shirt and a vest. The sight of his massive arms and chest in all that tailored finery – yum.He sees me in the mirror and grins. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”“If I were Sleeping Beauty, you should’ve woken me up with a kiss,” I say sleepily.He laughs and walks over to the bed, tucking his tie into his vest. “Let’s do the post-wake-up version.”As he leans over me, I bat him away. “No – I look awful – ”“You look hot.”“I’ve probably got morning breath – ”“I don’t

Oh God NO!I turn and run through the maze of corridors, back the way I came.“That won’t do you any good, Ms. Saunders,” the voice says, full of mock sympathy. “I’ve already shut down the elevator.”In confirmation, when I hit the DOWN button, it doesn’t light up. I try UP – same thing.My mind is ticking through the options.Got to find a stairwell – got to get out of here – But the text was from Grant! It came from his phone number! How did – And then I realize: if this guy could find Grant’s phone number, he could temporarily clone it, reroute it, whatever he wanted to do.Long enough to send me a couple of text messages, anyway.The text messages make me think of my cell. I fumble it out of my purse to call 911 – But the screen says ‘No Service.’I want to scream.Actually, that’s a good idea.“HELLLLLP!” I shriek.“No one can hear you from the outside,” the voice informs me. “And if you were planning to call the authorities, let me save you the trouble: I’m blocking all frequ