Stranded with a Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #1)(86)

And was there anywhere in the world that Logan Hawkings’s every whim was not catered to? She smiled wryly at the thought.

Luz moved to the door and tapped in a code on the keypad. “There are no keys for this room, Miss Dawson. You simply need to use the access code. It is five-five-four-three.” She opened the door and gestured for Bront? to enter. “Please call down and let me know if there is anything else I can do for you during your stay.”

“I will,” Bront? said. “Thank you, Luz.”

The other woman nodded and left, and Bront? stepped into the suite with a dumbfounded look on her face. She’d been expecting the room to be posh, but once again she was surprised at the wealth and luxury that Logan enjoyed.

The room was palatial. Slow-moving fans lazily whirled overhead from the high-beamed loft ceiling. A breeze ruffled white curtains on the balcony. The room was full of sweet-smelling flowers, vases artfully perched on end tables and countertops. Those were the only splashes of color—everything else was stark, brilliant white—from the fluffy bedspread to the artful netting hanging over the bed to the thick carpet beneath her feet. There were even white couches in the “living room” area, offset by dark teakwood furniture accompanying it.

It was lovely and cool and tropical, and she immediately felt relaxed at the sight. How beautiful. Bront? moved to the small kitchen area, looking for bottled water to soothe her dry throat. She laughed when she opened the mini fridge and saw it was full of M&M’s. Logan truly seemed to recall every small thing she’d ever mentioned, and the thought made her feel warm inside.

The bed was gorgeous, but Bront? wanted to wash up first. She groaned with pleasure at the sight of the shower. It was made entirely from stone instead of tile and the showerhead was a built-in waterfall, meant to mimic a tropical paradise. It was also heaven on her skin, and she took a long, exceedingly hot shower, enjoying every minute of luxury. Then she curled up in one of the fluffy white robes left for her and headed to the bed, intending to try it out only for a moment.

She woke up hours later, when Logan’s heavy weight sagged on the bed next to her. She smiled as he pulled her close and turned her face up for his kiss.

His mouth lightly touched hers. “Do you like the room?”

“It’s gorgeous,” she said with a small sigh. “I could stay here forever.”

His lips continued to move along her jawline. “How about a week? I have some business to attend to while we’re here and need to stay until next Saturday.”

Bront? sat up, pushing him away. “How about you ask before dragging me onto your jet?”

“I did ask,” he said, his stern lips quirking with amusement. “If I recall, you told me that you loved the idea. And then you fell over and began to snore.”

She scowled at him. “How about asking me when I’m sober? I’m supposed to work for the next week.”

“Gretchen says they will be fine without you.”

“You talked to Gretchen?”

“She packed a bag for you. Don’t you remember?”

Bront? blinked, trying to recall. Nope, the night before was still a whiskey-filled blur. “I’m sure it’ll come back to me.”

“I’m sure,” Logan said, kissing her neck. He sounded amused.

Her hands went to his thick hair, and she ran her nails over his scalp, sighing with pleasure when he licked at the sensitive dip in her throat. “Logan, I want to talk to you.”

His teeth grazed her collarbone. “Talk, love. I’m listening.”

“You’re being very distracting.”

“I’ve only started to be distracting,” he told her in a husky voice. His hand slipped inside her robe and cupped her bare breast, thumb playing over her nipple.

Heat and longing shot through her body, and she moaned, her h*ps moving reflexively. “That’s not fair,” she gasped, her words rising an octave when he continued to circle her nipple with the pad of his thumb, making the sensitive peak stiff. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.”

“I’m very serious right now,” Logan told her, tugging open the belt of her robe and exposing her br**sts. His head moved down, and he kissed the other nipple. “I’ve wanted to touch you all day, and I’m very serious about getting to do so right now.”

“Logan,” she breathed, her fingers gripping his hair tightly. “I wanted to talk about you and me.”

His teeth gently bit her nipple. “How good we are together?”

She moaned as he raked his teeth lightly over her nipple again, then tongued the sensitive flesh. “I’ve been thinking . . .”

Grinding to a screeching halt, Logan jerked up, his gaze meeting hers. Those warm, delicious eyes were now staring back at her warily, and his voice was cold. “What were you thinking?”

Oh. Bront? felt a twinge of shame at his immediate wariness. His reaction was so strong as a result of her constant running away. He was expecting her to bail on him again. She reached up and stroked his strong, tense jaw. “I was thinking that . . . I’ve been unfair to you.”

He stared down at her, no emotion showing. Those hard eyes glittered. “You have been unfair . . . to me? Explain.”

“Yes,” she said, and skimmed her thumb over his lower lip. It was really unfair that he was so sensual and masculine. “Whenever things got a little frightening for me, I ran away. I should have stayed and talked to you. And . . . I’m sorry. I want this to work between us. I want you. I want to be with you.”