Billion Dollar Bad Boy (Big City Billionaires #1)(43)

When he didn't start panicking, I gave him a shove. He turned it around, pulling me close and kissing my neck. He whispered, “I'd never let anything happen to you, Pet.”

His promise made me dizzy.

Untangling from me, he waved his phone. “Give me one minute, it's work.”

It had been too easy to forget that he had any responsibilities beyond lavishing me with his time and his money. But of course he had to work, and I was glad he couldn't tell how ashamed I was to have forgotten that.

“Hello?” he said, shifting to face the window. “I'm in the middle of something.” Silver went quiet, his eyes narrowing a hair as he listened. “Yes, I know the spare key is gone.” He glanced at me. “Florian, I'm going to be gone all weekend. You don't need to get into my office, just send them the design notes on Monday.”

His office? Hugging my purse close, I listened to the muffle jingle inside. Did he actually give me a key to his workplace?

Digging his fingers into his scalp, Silver bit out his next sentence. “I don't fucking care. I'm not turning around. I'll be back Monday, understand? Or do you want me to email that to you, too?” He shut his eyes, breathing out. “That's what I thought. Bye.”

I waited until he'd put the phone away, but his eyes were still closed. “Is everything okay?”

Silver blinked at me, like he'd forgotten I was there. “It's fine.” Circling me with his arm, he guided me into his lap. “It's even better, now.”



Walking through LAX, I gazed at the giant airport in wonder. It was insanely busy, people shoving here and there while we headed towards the exit. As we were passing one of the millions of gift shops, I slowed down.

Hanging on racks were a few generic “I Heart LA” sweaters.

“Did you want a souvenir?” he asked.

“Oh, no, it's fine.”

He studied my face, then turned towards the woman behind the kiosk. “We'll take one of those.”

She nodded quickly, jumping up to grab for them. “Pink or blue?” she asked.

I'd gone silent, marveling at Silver's quick decision to buy me one of the sweaters. They both waited on me, so I cleared my throat. “Pink is fine.”

She handed it over, taking Silver's cash. It was soft and thick, better quality than I expected, considering it was an airport sweater. “Do you like it?” he asked.

Smiling, I hugged it tight. “Call me cheesy, but I kind of do.”

“Put it on.”

“What, right now?”

His eyes glinted, and I thought he couldn't have been more serious. Chewing the side of my mouth, I pulled it over my head, messing up my hair.

Tilting his head, he peered at me. “How do you look amazing in everything you put on?”

“Stop it,” I said, blushing hotter. I saw myself in a window, and I wondered what he was seeing, because I just looked like I'd flown for several hours and needed some caffeine.

His fingers slid into mine, holding tight. “Come on, let's get to my place.”

Sinking into the sensation of his touch, I followed at his side.

The taxi ride was smooth, and while I boggled out the window at the palm trees and buildings, Silver never let go of my hand. Once, he pulled me close, kissing me without a care that our driver was watching.

He held on all the way until we pulled up outside of a bright white condo, and it was only because he needed both hands to gather his suitcase and the shopping bag we'd brought from the lingerie store.

“This is gorgeous,” I said, once we'd arrived on his floor. I spun so I could see every angle; it was even bigger than the place he had in Portland. It also looked more modern, everything sort of minimized—the chairs, the glass tables, the ceramic bar.

“I'm glad you like it. I haven't been back for a month, it's good to see everything is still here.” His chuckle said he didn't really expect someone would rob him. And, considering the security in the lobby, why would he?

“Want a drink before we go out?”

“Just where are we going?” I asked, stopping to squint at him. “I didn't bring much to wear besides all that lingerie.”

I'd meant it as a joke, but his sharp smirk made me pause. “You could wear one of those outfits and get away with it. But I've got something on hand that will work.”

“'On hand?'” I repeated. Silver headed to one side of the giant room, crossing the wide window view of LA that some people would kill for. Kneeling by the suitcase he'd packed in his car, he dug inside.

In a flash of fabric, he yanked a black dress into view.

Covering my mouth, I swayed close enough to see the outfit. “Why do you have that?”

“It doesn't matter.” He stood, offering it to me.