Beauty and the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #2)(56)

She smiled at him. “All very good reasons.”

“It’s also one of the more difficult ones to grow.”

She snorted. “You calling me difficult?”

“It’s a fragile flower. It looks beautiful and hardy, but even the smallest of ailments can bring it down. It reminds me that some things require a bit more thought and care.” He smiled over at her, another one of his rare yet charming smiles. “It’s a challenge, but there is no rose sweeter when it blossoms.”

“That’s beautiful, Hunter. Who knew you would get so poetic over flowers?”

“Not the roses,” he said, giving her an intense look that made her toes curl a little.

“So what did you want to show me?”

“One of my passions is the hybridization of roses.”

“Wow. Sounds . . . um, boring. I think.”

He ignored her lack of enthusiasm, still stroking the soft petals of the red Papa Meilland rose in a way that made her panties damp. “I wanted to choose something you’d like. I’d like to create you a rose.”

Now he had her interest. “Create me a rose?”

He got up and gestured at a nearby stone bench. She followed him and was surprised when he sat in the center of it, leaving no room for her to sit. At her raised eyebrow, he gestured at his knee.

Ah, he liked it when she sat in his lap, did he? Gretchen smiled and gave an exaggerated wiggle as she slid into his embrace, her ass nestling against him.

“Hybridization,” he said, brushing her hair off her shoulder and leaning in to kiss her through the fabric of her T-shirt. “Is how all the different varieties of hybrid tea roses are created. They’ve been bred and crossbred with each other for the best qualities—long stems, bright colors, lovely scents. I’d like to see if I can cross a rose just for you.”

“I’m always game for a present,” Gretchen teased. “So when do I get to see my rose?”

He chuckled, and she warmed. Was it her imagination or did he seem more quick to laugh and smile now? “These things take time. It’s a slow process of pollination and experimentation. I’ll have to take one of the Blue Girl roses—that’s the one you liked—that’s budding and force it open—”

“Pollination, experimentation, and forcing petals? Sounds kinky.”

To her surprise, he reached across her front and lightly tweaked her nipple to shush her, sending a jolt of pleasure through her body. “You do that to prepare it for pollination from the other rose. They’re covered to prevent them from being pollinated from another rose.”

“Rose condoms. Gotcha.”

He leaned in and nipped at her earlobe. His fingers continued to tease her n**ples through her clothing, and she felt him hardening against her buttocks. “Do you always interrupt?”

“Yes. But don’t let that stop you.”

“I won’t. Do you want to hear more?”

“Absolutely,” she breathed. “This is as dirty as those letters I’ve been reading.”

He chuckled again, which never failed to cause her to squirm with pleasure. “We want the Papa Meilland to bloom and mature. Once it has, we take the pollen from the Papa Meilland and transfer it to the Blue Girl. We let the Blue Girl go to seed, collect those, and plant them to see what we’ve created.”

“Hmm,” she said, her voice breathy with distraction from his touch. “This isn’t a fast hobby, is it.”

“I’m a patient man.”

“You think long term, don’t you?” If what he was saying was true, it’d definitely be months—maybe even years—before her rose ever came to fruition. Would they even know each other by then? She’d be long gone.

For some reason, that sent a stab of unhappiness through her. She turned her face slightly, offering her lips for a kiss. She wanted to be taken hard and rough by him to forget all about her troubles.

But the kiss he pressed on her lips was light, soft, and tender, the barest brush of his mouth across hers. “I love you, Gretchen. Don’t be sad.”

He loved her? All breath escaped her lungs. She stared up at him in surprise. “Hunter, I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything.” His hands continued to caress her, moving all over her body, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. “I’ve never met anyone like you. If I live to be a hundred, I’ll never feel as deeply for anyone as I feel for you right now. You bring light and sunshine to my life. I’m not telling you that I love you to make you unhappy. I’m telling you thank you. Thank you for coming into my life.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but was stopped when he pressed a finger to her lips.

“Don’t say anything, Gretchen,” he murmured. “I’m a practical man. I never thought to have a woman in my life, ever. I thought my face would turn off any woman worth having. I never thought I would be lucky enough to meet someone like you. I have no illusions as to what this means to you, but for me, it is the world.”

She smiled softly at him and snuggled closer. “Sounds like fate’s brought us together.”

“Yes,” he said, and his voice was curiously dry. “Fate.”

***

I love you most ardently, my dearest. It’s becoming impossible for me to spend even a day without you. This is interminable, these endless partings between us. I ache to be with you. My love grows every moment of every hour, much like my passion for you. I—