The Billionaire's Stolen Identity

ra'

on seemed endless, cold and beautiful, untouchable. I pressed my hand lightly against the glass, almost as though I could abso

en C

I believe

Sensible women didn't follow billionaires' home after two weeks of knowing them. Sensible women didn't step into glass towers and penthouses that

night, I didn't w

t clink as he set down his glass. When I finally faced him, his eyes were

e it was easier than saying the truth: th

hat was more dangerous than any sharp ed

stole the ground from under my feet. I had dated before, of course. Men who were charming, some even

ok. But instead, I stood there, fr

he certainty of his capture. By the time his fingers brushed a

old," he murmured, his voice low, i

mb grazed my jaw, and s

e name escaped

dered, though his ton

mie

raw in his eyes, something I didn't yet underst

to his as if I had no control left. His taste was intoxicating, champagne laced with hunger. His hand slid to the small of my back, pulling m

d me, clutching his shirt, pulling him closer. The world fe

embling. He hovered above me, eyes blazing, and for a moment, he just l

rs. My eyes traced the hard lines of his chest, the play of muscle beneath hi

e was rough, edged with a hu

ed. The word was

ere was no

ders, my chest, and his lips followed, leaving fire in their wake. I arched under him, my body resp

f to remind me that in this moment, I belonged to him. But there was tenderness to

s only the sound of his voice whispering my name, the feel of his body mo

there was also gentleness, the brush of his hand against my cheek, the press of his lip

e moved together as though we had always known how, as though our bodies had been waiting for this ex

, chest heaving, my mind a haze of sensation. The city's dawn l

ke that. Because I had never trusted anyone enough to break apart i

st his chest, lulled by th

cony, the city spread out behind him, his body cast in silhouette. For a se

ispered, my voice st

truck me like a blow. He came to me, too

ve bought everything a man could ever want. But last night..." His throat worked as if

. So I squeezed his hand, trying to let him f

ps, kissed them gently. Then h

rry

hit me lik

thed, certain

r now. "Be mine. Not for tonig

whirlwind of jet planes, rooftop dinners, and a night that had left me trem

ionality seeme

s the only person in the room. The way he had held me like I was precious even i

s," I whispered. My voice trembled,

s arms. His mouth crashed into mine, desperate, triumphant. I laughed against his lips, breath

ld but found his victory in a single person. An

rners of the penthouse, a faint unease curled in my chest. A

it was the exhaustion, the rus

his arms, one though

ating us? What if, in its shadows, som