Escaping with the Billionaire: The Maverick Prince / Billionaire, M.D.. Catherine Mann
on his elbows, white shirt stretching open at the collar to reveal the strong column of his neck. “I always look out for myself.”
“Then what are you gaining?”
“More time with you, at least until the restraining order is in place.” The heat of his eyes broadcast his intent just before he reached for her. “I’ve always been clear about how much I want to be with you, even on that first date when you wouldn’t kiss me good-night.”
“Is that why you chased me? Because I said no?”
“But you didn’t keep saying no and still, here I am turned on as hell by the sound of your voice.” He plucked her glasses off, set them aside and cradled her face in his palms. “The feel of your skin.”
While he owned an empire with corporate offices that took up a bayside block, his skin still carried the calluses of the dockworker and sailor he’d been during his early adulthood. He was a man who certainly knew how to work with his hands. The rasp as he lightly caressed her cheekbones reminded her of the sweet abrasion when he explored farther.
He combed through along her scalp, strands slithering across his fingers. “The feel of your hair.”
A moan slipped past her lips along with his name, “Tony…”
“Antonio,” he reminded her. “I want to hear you say my name, know who’s here with you.”
And in this moment, in his eyes, he was that foreign prince, less accessible than her Tony, but no less exciting and infinitely as irresistible, so she whispered, “Antonio.”
His touch was gentle, his mouth firm against hers. She parted her lips under his and invited in the familiar sweep, taste and pure sensation. Clutching his elbows, she swayed, her breasts tingling, pulling tight. Before she could think or stop herself, she brushed slightly from side to side, increasing the sweet pleasure of his hard chest teasing her. His hard thigh between her legs.
She stepped backward.
And tugged him with her.
Toward the open French doors leading into her bedroom, her body overriding her brain as it always seemed to do around Tony. She squeezed her legs together tighter against the firm pressure of his muscled thigh, so close, too close. She wanted, needed to feel him move inside her first.
Sinking her fingernails deeper, she ached to ask him to stay with her, to help her forget the worries waiting at home. “Antonio—”
“I know.” He eased his mouth from hers, his chin scraping along her jaw as he nuzzled her hair and inhaled. “We need to stop.”
Stop? She almost shrieked in frustration. “But I thought…I mean, you’re here and usually when we let things go this far, we finish.”
“You’re ready to resume our affair?”
Affair. Not just one night, one satisfaction, but a relationship with implications and complications. Her brain raced to catch up after being put on idle while her body took over. God, what had she almost done? A few kisses along with a well-placed thigh, and she was ready to throw herself back in his bed.
Planting her hands on his chest, she stepped away. “I can’t deny that I miss you and I want you, but I have no desire to be labeled a Medina mistress.”
His eyebrows shot up toward his hairline. “Are you saying you want to get married?”
Chapter 6
“Married?” Shannon choked on the word, her eyes so wide with shock Tony was almost insulted. “No! No, definitely not.”
Her instant and emphatic denial left zero room for doubt. She wasn’t expecting a proposal. Good thing, since that hadn’t crossed his mind. Until now.
Was he willing to go that far to protect her?
She turned away fast, her hands raised as she raced back into the sitting area. “Tony—Antonio—I can’t talk to you, look at you, risk kissing you again. I need to go to bed. To sleep. Alone.”
“Then what do you want from me?”
“To end this craziness. To stop thinking about you all the time.”
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