Billion Dollar Enemy 69
“It’s been my pleasure,” I say, and find that I mean it. “I’ve visited the bookstore several times these past few months. Your grandmother created a beautiful place, Mrs. Stiller. I’m glad it’s still standing.”Belonging to NôvelDrama.Org.
Her smile deepens, from civil and professional to something real. “I think we have Skye to thank for that, too,” she says warmly.
Skye’s cheeks flush at the comment, but her smile is warm, too. She extends a hand to me. “Thank you, Cole. We should get going.”
“Actually, Skye, I was wondering if you’d join me for an early dinner.”
There it is. Let her take it or leave it-she’d told me Karli already knew about us. For a breathless moment, my words hang in the air between us.
Karli’s the one who breaks the silence. “I’ll see you later,” she says to Skye, voice conspiratorial.
And then it’s just Skye and me left.
“That was bold,” she tells me, but her voice is teasing. For the first time in weeks, there’s no censure in her eyes-no hidden dislike, no argument with herself.
“I’m a bold kind of guy,” I say. “Come on. Let’s get some food.”
She falls into easy step beside me. In her patterned dress and trim blazer, she looks professionally artsy. Like a writer-like a bookstore owner. It makes me want her even more.
“Did your staff really like the change of style for your new hotel?” she asks. “That wasn’t staged?”
I smile, despite myself. “Knew you’d ask that. Honestly, yes, some really did. Some didn’t, but they’ll come around. The new style has charm.”
“It’s very different from your usual style.”
“My usual charmless style?”
Her eyes dance, caught in her own words and completely unrepentant. “Yes.”
I laugh, wrapping my arm around her shoulders out of habit. She doesn’t shrug it off. “Well, the Amena was a necessity. I’m not opposed to comfortable, homey living.”
“Like my place.”
“Like yours, all twelve square feet of it.”
She elbows me softly. “So, we’re having dinner, huh?”
“Yes. I figured it was time to have that conversation we’ve been putting off for days.”
“The one you wouldn’t let us have until the business deal was settled.” She looks up at me. A lock of hair has escaped from her bun and it curls gently around her face. “I’d like that.”
The soft, shy smile on her face is my undoing. Skye has been a firecracker since the start-strong-willed and strong of opinion-but I’ve always known there’s vulnerability behind that facade. She’s letting me see it.
My words spill out of me of their own accord. “I demanded an answer from you about us, the evening you came to my apartment. When you’d just been told the store wasn’t profitable.” I tuck the lock of hair behind her ear, the back of my hand lingering on her cheek. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s okay.”
“No. Pushing you away was the easier option, but it wasn’t the right one.”
“I did the same thing,” she says softly. “Keeping you at arm’s length, because the alternative would have been more than I could bear.”
“Yes. To actually like my enemy… unthinkable. And I’m sorry for saying I hate you so often. I don’t, actually. I’m sure you’ve already figured that out.”
My smile is entirely genuine, my thoughts running away from me. “I kinda liked that.”
Skye’s teeth dig into her bottom lip. “Well, I can still say it, every now and then. As long as you know I don’t mean it.”
“That’s a deal.”
Her gaze shifts from mine to the building behind us. Her voice is teasing when she speaks. “This is where we’re having dinner?”
Our leisurely stroll has taken us to the Amena, located just a stone’s throw from my work. As ever, convenience had been king when I chose it. “That was not part of the original plan,” I say. “But if you want to stay in, perhaps order takeout…”
Skye’s eyes glimmer in the evening sunset. “Restaurants are overrated anyway,” she say. Heat claws up my spine at her low voice, at the feel of her hand in mine. We walk through the familiar marble lobby and into my private elevator. Her skin feels hot against mine as the doors open, revealing my hallway and the living room beckoning beyond.
“I hate this place,” I say.
The laughter that spills out of her is surprised. “What? Where did that come from?”
“You’ve made me reevaluate things,” I say. “I bought it after Elena, and I’ve barely spent any time here. It’s like one giant hotel suite.”
Skye reaches up to lace her fingers behind my neck. Behind her, the floor-to-ceiling windows offer me a view of the burning evening sky, the setting sun blazing across Seattle. It’s a beautiful view, but this Skye is prettier.
“If only you had more fridge magnets,” she teases. “You’d feel right at home, then.”
“Oh yes,” I say. My hands close around her waist, pulling her flush against my body. “I need tons and tons of them.”
“I’ll go shopping for some tomorrow for you.”
“How generous of you.” I tip her head back, our lips a hairsbreadth apart. “I can’t believe I survived two weeks without kissing you,” I murmur.
She rises up on her tiptoes. “Never again.”
I kiss her. My intention was to go soft, to kiss her gently, to ease back into this. But Skye has never been the one to follow my lead. Her soft lips open for me and draw me in, the warmth of her mouth intoxicating.
She sighs against me, her body melting into mine, and I lose myself in the feeling of Skye. My hands flatten against her back and push her firmly against me. Her breasts are soft against my chest, her fingers winding their way into my hair, tugging and pulling.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, my lips finding their way down her neck, her cheek.
“So am I.” Her body, as if moving by its own accord, twines itself around mine. My hand fists her dress, pulling it up, my fingers finding the soft skin of her thigh. I hike her leg around my hip.
This has always been an area Skye and I have excelled in.
I lift her up and she laughs, her hair tickling my cheek. “Where are we going?”
I sink onto the couch with her in my arms, her legs neatly on either side of me. “Not far,” I say. “You’re so beautiful.”
She reaches up to undo her ponytail. “Oh?”