The Billionaire Bargain #3(15)
I jumped back in. “Is there anything else? Has anything else she’s done lately pinged your radar?”
Grant paused thoughtfully. “She stopped by after you…left. She was acting very concerned, but I didn’t think—and later she was asking questions, lots of questions, but I thought she was just trying to distract me from…And I saw her talking to my secretary when I know she can’t stand the woman; she could have been pumping her for information. I didn’t think anything of it at the time because…”
He trailed off again.
“There’s a shareholder meeting at the end of the week,” I said when it became clear that he was going to leave that sentence dangling there. “If Portia’s going to make a play, she’ll have to put it to a vote there.”
“Yes,” he said absently, and echoed, “If she’s going to make a play…”
And that was what it came down to, I guess. If he believed me that she was going to do it. “Do you believe me?” I asked.
“The evidence is…mounting,” he said, but he still looked distracted.
“Well, then, what are we going to do?”
“I suppose—” Grant began musingly, and for a whole second my heart soared with the giddy hope that he was going to approach this problem like a reasonable human being. But then his eyes narrowed in suspicion, and his gaze swung back to me, accusing. “Why do you even care?”
“Excuse me?!” I spluttered.
“You’ve made it quite clear that you don’t give a f*ck about the company,” he snapped, his red-hot anger making his accent crisp and near-British as he bit off the words. “Or me, for that matter. So why the show? Why the mad dash to my apartment to save the day? Perhaps you’re hoping for a nice little bonus—or maybe you’re allied with Portia and this is a feint on your part, to throw me off guard?”
“Is that what you really think?” My voice broke on the last word, the hurt catching in my throat. My heart felt as if it were being pierced with thousands of shards of razor-sharp glass. “Is that what you really believe I’m capable of?”
“I know exactly what you’re capable of,” Grant said, stalking towards me. His eyes flashed. “I’ve learned that you’re capable of more coldness and deceit than I thought a mortal woman could be. I learned that, much to my regret, on what was supposed to be our wedding day.”
“How dare you!” I exploded, leaping to my feet. I slapped him across his face, my vision blurring with tears. “How dare you say that I don’t care!? The whole reason I didn’t marry you is that I care too much!” My voice cracked further and the tears fell faster as the words I’d sworn I’d never say spilled from my mouth. “Every time I looked at you it stabbed me in the heart, how much I cared and how much you didn’t—”
“Lacey—” he started, but I couldn’t stop blabbing.
“—because it was all just an act to you! It was all about company PR! How could I stay when I knew you didn’t l—”
Grant closed the space between us with a single stride and clasped my shoulders, yanking me into his arms and devouring my lips in a passionate kiss.
My eyes slid closed automatically at the overload of sensation, and before I knew it I was kissing him back, savoring the taste of his mouth. The scent of him filled me as I melted into his arms, his strong hands holding me tightly to him as we wound around each other.
We kissed as though it were about to be outlawed, we kissed as though we could breathe each other’s essence into ourselves, we kissed as though kissing were the only thing keeping the world from ending.
Our lips broke apart and I almost staggered, dazed. Grant’s eyes gleamed with desire and he leaned in to claim me once more. Somewhere through the fog of lust in my brain a small siren of responsibility blared, and I managed to get out: “But, the company—”
Then Grant kissed me again with an urgency like fire, and I forgot anything but him.
“The company can wait for now,” he murmured as we broke apart, a devilish smile playing upon his lips. “But I can’t wait one moment longer for you.”
? ? ?
He guided me to his bedroom, laying down next to me as he kissed slowly down my neck. He teased and nipped around the collar of my silk shirt, slowly pulling it off over my head. He looked at my breasts in awe, and then buried his face between them. He growled. I tried to remember how breathing worked.
Sliding my skirt up my legs, he slipped a finger under the lace of my panties, massaging me in a delicious and tantalizing rhythm. Oh how I wanted him inside me again, and I bucked against his fingers as he stroked me. So good. So right. Wait.
Was this a good idea? Maybe it wasn’t a good idea—maybe—his lips trailed kisses back up my neck, his mouth claiming mine again, and oh yes, it was. It was a very, very good idea. Consequences be damned. I fisted the bed sheet in my hands, writhing beneath him.
“Come for me, Lacey,” he demanded, sliding in his finger, first one, then two, and then the third, stretching me, still not quite filling me up, oh God, I needed him to—
His questing fingers found my g-spot, and I moaned as he intensified the pressure. Using his thumb to tease my clit, I felt myself getting closer to the edge. His strong fingers continued thrusting into me, perfectly, and the whole world went a blinding white as red-hot heat rippled outward from my core, leaving me helpless as an epic orgasm tore through my body like an earthquake.