The Billionaire's Bidding

by Barbara Dunlop

  “Huh?”

  “You can’t keep your hands off each other.”

  Alex’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.”

  Had Emma actually told her they’d made love?

  Katie waved a hand. “Give it up, Alex. You’re not fooling anybody.”

  His heart thudded heavily in his chest. Katie knew they’d made love. Had she guessed how he felt?

  He didn’t even know how he felt.

  He had to throw her off track. He carefully arranged his features and shrugged, feigning unconcern. “You know the score.” He waited. “That thing on the cruise ship was…you know, just a thing.”

  Katie drew back, confusion on her face. “What thing on the cruise ship?”

  Alex cursed himself and scrambled for a recovery. “We…had a fight.”

  “You two have fights all the time. One more would definitely not be memorable.” Katie peered suspiciously into his eyes. “What happened on the cruise ship?”

  “Nothing.”

  He knew the exact second comprehension hit her. “Oh my God.”

  “It’s not—”

  “And she didn’t tell me? I’m going to kill her.”

  “No!” His arms reflexively tightened around Katie. “Don’t you say a word.”

  “Why didn’t she tell me? Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

  Alex could have kicked himself. “Back off, Katie. She’s had a tough day.”

  “There’s only one reason she wouldn’t tell me,” Katie muttered to herself, her feet tangling over the dance steps so that Alex had to recover for both of them.

  “Because she regrets it,” he said. She was afraid he would hurt her. And he might still. But then she might hurt him right back.

  It was a chance they’d both have to take. They needed to work it out together. And alone.

  Katie was shaking her head. “No, that can’t be the reason.”

  He steered Katie toward Emma and Nathaniel.

  She resisted his pressure. “Oh no you don’t. You’re not dumping me with him again.”

  Alex sure as hell was. “He’s your official escort.”

  “He’s my inquisitor.”

  “Katie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t say anything to Emma about the cruise. It was a mistake. We both made a mistake.”

  Katie opened her mouth. But then she closed it again and nodded.

  “Nate,” said Alex.

  Nathaniel glanced up and gave him a cocky, knowing grin. “Need your girl back?”

  “I’m sure she’s had enough of you.”

  “Why don’t we ask her?”

  But Alex latched on to Emma’s arm, forcing Nathaniel to let go of her.

  “Ahhh,” said Nathaniel, staring down at his returning partner. “The charming Katie. Where were we?”

  “Let me save you some time,” she said, adjusting her arm to keep a careful distance from him. “No. None of your business. And when hell freezes over.”

  Despite her efforts, Nathaniel dragged her closer, his voice fading as they spun away. “You know, you really shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  Emma blinked up at Alex. “What was that all about?”

  “I don’t think Nathaniel likes David.”

  She moved into step with him. “Well, neither do you.”

  Alex grunted. “That’s because he’s hiding behind Katie’s skirts.”

  Emma punctuated her opinion with an exasperated sigh. “He’s got an MBA. And he’s a respected project manager.”

  “Then why’s he hiding behind Katie’s skirts? Why not make something of himself?”

  “I’m way too tired to have this fight.”

  Alex felt like a heel. “Sorry.”

  “Hey, will you look at that.”

  “At what?”

  Emma nodded across the floor. “Philippe is dancing with Mrs. Nash.”

  Alex followed the direction of her nod. Sure enough. And they were laughing about something.

  “I guess they finally found some common ground,” he said.

  “That’s good to see.” Emma settled back in. “So what time is our flight to Kayven?”

  “Whenever we want to go.”

  “You haven’t booked the tickets yet?”

  Alex smiled as he shook his head. “We don’t need tickets. I have a plane.”

  Her shoulders relaxed, and she closed her eyes. “Naturally you have a plane.” Then she rested her cheek against his chest, just the way he liked it. “And I’m not going to complain about that one either.”

  He rubbed his hand up and down her back. “I have to say, I really like your attitude.”

  “Don’t get too used to it. All I need is a good night’s sleep.”

  Ten

  Alex was a perfect gentleman all the way to Kayven Island.

  They’d stopped in L.A. for a late dinner. After which, Emma had had a surprisingly restful sleep across the Pacific, arriving at the local Kayven airstrip in the early morning hours.

  Partway between Hawaii and Fiji, the island boasted white sand beaches, world-class reefs and turquoise seas dotted with brightly colored sailboats. The McKinley Resort consisted of a main building with traditional hotel rooms, an open-air lounge and a restaurant, along with several dozen bungalows scattered between towering palm trees.

  Emma and Alex’s bungalow opened onto a wide, covered patio with three steps down to the beach.

  They quickly discovered their PalmPilots didn’t work. Neither did their cell phones. Internet service was only available in the main building, and it was intermittent at best.

  So, after an open-air breakfast of pastries and tropical fruit, Alex declared they should chuck their business obligations and rent a catamaran for the day. Inspired by the salt breeze and laid-back atmosphere of the island, Emma wasn’t inclined to argue.

  So, at 10:00 a.m., along about the time she usually attended her senior staff meeting, she was dressed in a lilac bikini, skimming over the waves of the South Pacific, the breeze in her hair and the salt spray dampening her skin.

  “Dolphins,” Alex called from the stern, and she twisted on the pontoon seat to see a dozen dorsal fins cutting through the green water.

  “How do you know they’re not sharks?” For the first time since leaving the dock, Emma cast a suspicious glance at the clear water below her.

  Alex pulled the tiller. “Let’s take a closer look.”

  “No!” she squealed. What did Alex know about sharks and dolphins? He’d spent his entire life in a city center just like her.

  He laughed. “Chicken.”

  “I like my legs, thank you very much.”

  “They’re dolphins.”

  “No offense, but you’re hardly an expert.”

  He corrected their course to follow the towering cliffs of the shoreline. After a set of rudimentary instructions on sailing the two person catamaran, the man at the rental shop had provided a map to a snorkeling beach and one of the islands scenic coral reefs.

  “I’ve watched the Discovery Channel,” said Alex, his tone tinged with mock offense.

  “I rest my case.”

  “You’ve got to learn to trust me on something.”

  “I’m letting you drive, aren’t I?”

  “Letting me?”

  She whooped as they crested a particularly big wave, then sang out, “My turn on the way back.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Hey, Alex. You’ve got to learn to trust me on something.”

  “You can decorate the main floor.”

  “The main floor of what?”

  “Of my house.”

  She turned to stare at him. “We’re decorating your house.”

  He stared out over the waves, and she had to fight to keep from ogling his wet, tanned body. His calves were sculpted with muscle, and his pecs were something out of a beach-boy magazine. His face was handsome as ever, but the rakish swirl of his windblown
hair left him looking softer, less intimidating than he had in NewYork.

  She was suddenly aware that they’d be spending the day on a deserted beach, far away from the problems and constraints of their real lives. She’d sworn up and down, to herself and to Alex, that they were never, ever making love again. Now she found herself questioning that promise, exploring the rationale and trying to remember exactly why it was so important that she keep her hands off him.

  “I thought we’d decorate before the party,” he said.

  She shook herself out of the fantasy. “Huh?” What party?

  “I thought a Garrison-McKinley company party might be a nice idea. Ryan is always after me to soften my image.”

  She gave her head a shake. “You want another party? After yesterday? Or was it the day before?”

  “Actually, I think this might be our wedding day.”

  “Don’t mess with me.”

  “I’m not messing with you. The International Date Line takes a funny jog around Kiribati.”

  She refused to be impressed by his knowledge. “Well, it’s only noon,” she retorted. “That means we’re not married yet.”

  He squinted. “Hmmm. That means there’s time for one last fling.”

  Emma made a show of glancing around the empty ocean. “With who?”

  Alex waggled his eyebrows.

  “In your dreams.” Or in her dreams, depending on how you looked at it.

  “Look,” he said. “There’s the point and the bent palm tree.” He abruptly turned the tiller, sending the blue-and-red sail swinging crossways over the catamaran.

  Emma shaded her eyes as a sparkling white, crescent-shaped beach came into view. Cliffs towered over it on both sides, and a white, frothy waterfall spilled into the little cove.

  “Wow.” She let out a long breath of appreciation. “I don’t think we’re in Manhattan anymore.”

  “Screw the cell phones,” said Alex. “The world can live without us for a day.”

  Emma laughed and shook off the remaining vestiges of her guilt, while the sail caught a gust of wind, pushing the front of the floats onto the soft sand.

  She quickly hopped off the net platform, sinking calf-deep in the warm water, and grabbing the rope as the floats bobbed free again.

  Alex joined her and tugged the boat onto the sand and removed their supply sack.

  She pulled her messy hair free of the elastic and raked it into a new ponytail. Without the breeze from the moving sailboat, the sun was burning hot. And the water was more than inviting.

  “Swim first or snorkel?” asked Alex, reading her thoughts.

  “Anything that gets me wet.”

  They swam in the cove and snorkeled around the reef for hours. With the swim fins for propulsion, Emma easily maneuvered through the salt water, seeing thousands of fish in every color imaginable, crabs, sea urchins and sea stars, plants and shells, and what seemed like mile upon mile of vibrant coral.

  Thirst and hunger finally brought them to the surface. The sun had moved far enough in the sky that they could find shade from one of the cliffs. They spread their blanket out near the waterfall, where the fine spray brought the air temperature down a few degrees.

  Emma leaned back and inhaled the scent of the tropical flowers, then she closed her eyes to concentrate on the calls of birds and the low hum of the insects. A sigh slipped out. “Do we really have to go back?”

  Alex’s sexy voice was full of promise. “No, we don’t.”

  She opened one eye, squinting at him through her sunglasses as he lay down on the blanket, propping himself up on one elbow.

  She matched his pose so that she was facing him. “Eventually, we’d starve.”

  He pushed his sunglasses up on his forehead, shifting almost imperceptibly forward. “We’d survive on fish and coconuts.”

  “You’re going to fish.”

  “I’m a versatile guy.”

  “How are you going to cook them?”

  He moved her sunglasses up on her forehead. “I’ll gather firewood from the forest.”

  The mere whisper of his touch spiked her pulse. “And rub two sticks together?”

  “If I have to. I didn’t become a billionaire by giving up.”

  “I thought you became a billionaire by inheriting lots of money.”

  He moved closer. “Yeah. There was that. But it doesn’t mean I’m not a resourceful guy.” His gaze dipped to her cleavage, and a buzz of sexual awareness ran through her.

  “Alex.”

  “It’s okay.” He reached for the spaghetti strap on her bikini top, running his index finger beneath it, then trailing it down her arm. The fabric peeled away, exposing the barest millimeter of her nipple.

  His eyes darkened, and she could feel the sensuality radiating from his very pores. Next, he leaned forward and kissed the tip of her shoulder, his cool lips gentle on her sun-warmed skin.

  She knew she should fight it, but the last thing in the world she wanted to do was interrupt a sexy man on a tropical beach, making her feel like she was the most desirable woman in the world.

  He left her shoulder to kiss the mound of her breast, trailing his fingertips along the curve of her waist.

  She gasped in a breath, and his arm went solidly around her, turning her onto her back, his dark head blocking out the bright sunshine.

  “I want you,” he said.

  And she wanted him, too. So much that it hurt to breathe. Her chest was tight. Her skin was tingling. And her thigh muscles pulsated with the need for his touch.

  “Oh, Alex.”

  He bent his head close to hers, kissing the corner of her mouth.

  “It’s okay,” he muttered. “It’s after three. We’re married now.”

  Before she could smile, he kissed her full on the lips, his broad hand swooping beneath her bottom to pull her against him.

  She opened her mouth, tangling with his tongue. And her hands framed his face, pulling herself closer and deeper, trying desperately to fuse her body to his.

  The waterfall roared in her ears, and the breeze off the ocean sensitized her skin. She kissed his cheek, his shoulder, the bulge of his bicep, tasting the sea salt, reveling in the flavor of his arousal.

  He flicked the clasp of her bikini top, and the purple fabric fell away, exposing her breasts to the heat of the sun and Alex’s avid gaze.

  “The pretty one,” he muttered. “The beautiful, sexy, charming sister. I am so glad you stormed into my office that day.”

  Emma tried to comprehend his meaning, but the words didn’t make sense. And then he drew her nipple into his mouth, and the entire world stopped making sense. It was Alex. And they were married. And she was falling fast and hard and unconditionally for him.

  The rake of his teeth and the swirl of his tongue sent pulses of delight streaking down her body. She arched her spine, tipping her head back, closing her eyes against the rainbow of light taking over her brain.

  She had to feel him. She had to touch him. She had to make sure he was experiencing half the intensity she was.

  She ran her hands up his arms, resisting the urge to linger, exploring his biceps and strong shoulders. Then she tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him tight against her breast, releasing a pent-up moan of desire.

  He moved to the other breast, and she trailed her fingertips down his back, shifting her knees and pressing his arousal into the cradle of her thighs.

  He drew back. “Whoa. You sure?”

  “Yes,” she blurted. “I’m sure. I want you. Whatever. Just tell me what to say.”

  He chuckled as he kissed her mouth. “I meant are you sure you want it this fast.”

  “Yes. Now. Right now.” She didn’t think she could wait another second.

  He sobered, his thumb hooking her bikini bottom and sliding it off over her sweat-slicked skin. Then he made short work of his own trunks, positioning himself over her, staring down at her with tousled hair and dark eyes, like some kind of sea god bent on conquest.<
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  His fingertips trailed down the slight indentation of her belly, and she squirmed beneath him, holding her breath, waiting, anticipating. He stared deep into her eyes and smoothed over her curls, parting her thighs and easing his finger into her body.

  She sucked in a breath with the exquisite pulse that came to life deep inside her. She slid her own hand down his body, cupping him, controlling him, pulling him toward her to satisfy her growing impatience.

  He swore under his breath.

  Then he pushed her hand away and flexed his hips, pressing himself at her entrance, widening her, stretching her, sliding slick and thick and hot inside her, inch after delicious inch as his hands tangled with hers and their mouths fused once more.

  Primal passion took over.

  The birds called in the treetops, the waterfall cooled the raging fever of their skin, and Alex’s rhythm matched the pulsating waves taking over their gleaming stretch of beach.

  He sped up, then slowed down, and she bit her lip, pushing back against his hands, arching her spine and tipping her hips to bring his thrusts faster and harder against her.

  Then the world seemed to freeze. Her breathing stopped, and the sun disappeared, the trees went silent and she cried his name as the rainbow sensations washed over her again and again and again.

  His own cry was guttural, and the parrots took flight above them, a cacophony of surprise and confusion. Then his weight finally settled, pressing her into the warm sand, his arms, his breath, his heartbeat surrounding her.

  By the time they made it back to their bungalow, dusky pink clouds were gathering above the island.

  Then, while the maître d’ sat them in the resort’s open-air restaurant, the first fat raindrops plunked on the palm leaves and turned the wooden deck a dark mottled brown. Lightning flashed in the distance, and the growing rainstorm clattered against the restaurant’s thatched roof.

  Grateful for the cool air, Emma settled back in the cushioned teak chair, dangling her sandal from her toes while the cool breeze swirled around her cotton print dress. The hurricane lamps on the tables seemed to brighten as the orange ball of the sun disappeared below the horizon.

  Emma gazed at the flickering light on Alex’s handsome face, hardly believing they’d so thoroughly consummated their marriage.