Billionaires Dollar Series

“But I want to know,” she insists. “I want to see.”

She shifts on her barstool so she’s turned toward me, pushing her hair back so both of her collarbones are on full display. I’ve never been a collarbone guy before, but she’s damn near converted me.

“If I was just anyone, someone sitting here at this bar, what would you do? Give me the moves, let me see it. Pretend I’m someone you’re attracted to.”

I bite my tongue. Fuck, but she’s gorgeous when she smiles at me like that. She also scrambles my brain.

“Won’t be a pretense, Maddie.”

Her eyes widen.

I make a show of moving my barstool closer to hers so our knees touch. “What are you drinking?”

She looks from her glass to me. “Champagne.”

“Makes sense.” I raise an eyebrow and let my eyes fall from her eyes to her lips, her neck, her chest. “Only the best is good enough for someone like you.”

A giggle slips through Maddie’s lips, but she sticks to her character. “A pick-up line? I expected better.”

My smile widens. “You’re in luck, then. Because proving I can be better is one of my favorite pastimes.”

“Yes. And I knew, when I saw you across the bar, that I’d work hard with you.”

Maddie wets her lips and my eyes track the movement. We might be playing strangers-but I know how soft they are to kiss.

“Flatterer,” she breathes.

I put my hand on her bare thigh, her skin like warm silk. Lean in a little closer. “It’s not flattery if it’s true, and the truth is I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you all night.”

Maddie’s eyes don’t stray from mine. “Nor your hands, it seems. My waist and your arm are well-acquainted.”

“The start of a beautiful friendship.” I drop my voice, lowering it for her ears only. “But to tell you the truth, my hands don’t want just friendship.”

“They don’t?”

I shake my head and look down at my hand on her thigh. Maddie does the same, both of us looking as I tighten my grip. “They want much, much more.”

“Greedy,” she whispers.

I smooth my fingers an inch higher. “And as stunning as you are in this dress, I want to peel you out of it and learn every inch of your skin, until you let me prove myself to you over and over again.”

Maddie sways closer, her body curving. It’s nothing at all to reach out and slide my arm around her waist. Back where it belongs. “An excellent performance,” she murmurs. There’s something breathless in her voice, something that sets off my own heart.

“Thank you.”

She bites her lip. “This place has rooms, right?”

“It’s a hotel,” I say, “so one would assume so. Are you tired?”NôvelDrama.Org is the owner.

She gives a small shake of her head. “I’m not tired.”

I don’t let go of her gaze as I drain the last of my champagne, not even as I nod for the bartender to pay our bill.

“Then let’s go find you a room.”

Liam closes the door to the suite behind us and hits the light switch. Dim, artful lights illuminate the richly decorated space.

I run my hand along the soft linen of the king-size bed. The large windows open up to the city beyond, two armchairs placed in front. A crystal decanter is filled with amber liquid on the table between them.

“I’ve never been inside a Porter hotel until today,” I say. “This bed looks comfortable.”

“Sort of the point, I imagine.” Liam leans against the closed door, arms across his chest.

He’s grinning.

“You think I’m going to lose my nerve,” I say. “You don’t think I’ll go through with it.”

He undoes the button to his suit jacket. “Oh, I know you won’t.”

“When have I ever backed down from a challenge?”

“Never,” he says. “But no one is challenging you to this.”

You’re wrong, I think. I’m challenging myself to this.

Because being around him tonight, and hearing his words and smile… it feels good to be wanted. To be seen. And damn it, perhaps it’s time to prove to myself what I already know, what Jason had made me doubt.

I am interesting.

I give him a crooked smile and open the mini fridge. “I’m going to give you the world’s largest hotel bill.”

“Go right ahead,” he says.

I pull out a few of the cute, miniature bottles of liquor. “How does it feel to be astronomically rich?”

Liam chuckles, sinking down into one of the armchairs. “Excellent.”

“I can imagine.”

I survey the tiny bottles I’ve arranged on the counter.

Liam’s voice reaches me again. “After a while, though, it just feels normal.”

“Don’t tell that to journalists,” I say. “You won’t get any sympathy points.”

He chuckles again, but the sound is hoarser than before. We’d finished a bottle of champagne and perhaps that’s what’s talking, but if it is, I’m not complaining.

“It’s really just numbers in a game now,” he says.