Page 3 of The Billionaire's Secret Heart

His lips grazed my ear as he said, "Do you want to come sit over here?"

My jaw must have dropped. Ididwant to go sit over there. Could I? Just stand up and abandon my lackluster blind date? Before I could respond, I felt the stranger beside me shake his head. "No," he said. "Never mind. Let's just get out of here. I want to show you something."

I was still trying to catch up when he stood. Taking the step from his seating area to mine, he stopped before me, his hand extended. I stared up at him dumbly. I'd been right. His body was well worth a closer look. Looming above me, he filled my vision. I didn't think about it. I just put my hand in his larger one and let him pull me to my feet.

Off in the distance, through the buzzing in my ears, I heard a laugh and a female gasp, then caught the sound of Stuart sputtering a protest. The stranger had me caught in a spell, his dark gaze hot as he scanned my face, dipping only briefly to my exposed cleavage before locking on my eyes.

Pulling me closer, he said, "I know it's crazy, and completely inappropriate, but I've been wanting to do this since you walked in the door."

A sharp tug on my hand and I fell forward, closing the inches between us, my breasts pillowing against his hard chest. Startled, I looked up to see his face draw closer until his mouth came down on mine. I'd been kissed before—not a ton, but more than a few times. I'd never been kissed like this. His arm wrapped around my waist, pressing my body to his, turning me until my legs straddled his thigh. His hand closed over my hip with a possessive grip.

He didn't start slow. His lips hit mine, opening my mouth to him, his tongue stroking, teasing me, claiming me. If I'd thought about it, I'm sure I would have done something—backed away, protested, something. Anything other than what I did. I curled my fingers around his shoulders and held on for dear life while a complete stranger ravaged me with the kiss of a lifetime.

I'd stepped out of my boring blind date and into a dream. I'd never seen a man this hot in real life, much less been kissed by one. I didn't have it in me to shut him down. Maybe it was the margaritas at dinner or the pathetic excuse for a date. Maybe the stranger kissing me was just that hot. I didn't care. I kissed him back with everything I had, holding on tight, relishing the scrape of his stubble on my cheek and the heat of his lips moving on mine.

When he finally broke the kiss, I was panting. I may have been whimpering, just a little. His lips dropped to my ear, nipping the lobe for a second before he said, "Do you want to get out of here?"

Speech was beyond me. I nodded, my eyes on his, then on the floor. Now that we weren't kissing any longer, I couldn't bear to see the faces of the people around us. I'd kissed a complete stranger in a bar. And not a peck. That had been a full on, hand groping, tongues twining kiss. A panty soaking,please, please take me somewhere and get me nakedkind of kiss.

My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I fumbled for my purse with one hand, the other firmly in the stranger's grip. I caught a glimpse of Stuart's outraged face as I was turned in the direction of the door. Behind me, I heard Stuart say, "You can't just take my date!"

He got no answer. I had no idea what to say, and apparently, my new date had deemed him unworthy of a response. I followed the stranger down the stairs and out into the alley, wondering what the hell I was doing leaving the club with a man I'd just met. I knew other women did this all the time, but I never had. Maybe it was my turn to loosen up a little and have some fun. I still couldn't believe I'd caught the eye of a man like this, and I wasn't going to ruin it by second-guessing myself.

I let the stranger lead me out of the alley and onto the street. He turned me back in the direction of the restaurant where I'd had dinner with Stuart. Dimly, I noted that moving in the direction of my car was probably a good thing. His voice interrupted the quiet, startling me out of my thoughts.

"What's your name?" he asked, releasing my hand so he could slide his arm around my shoulders.

"Josephine," I said. "Jo."

"Do you go by Josephine or Jo?" he asked.

"Mostly Jo," I said in a whisper, embarrassed by my tomboyish name. Normally, I liked it, but tonight, it didn't feel like it fit me.

"I like Josephine. You look like a Josephine." He must be a mind reader. Answering the question on my lips, he said, "I'm Holden."

"Do you usually steal women away from their dates?" I asked tartly, then flushed at my tone. He laughed, looking down at me. I was five feet, five inches tall—not short, but he towered above me. He must have been at least a few inches over six feet. He grinned at me and shook his head, saying, "Never. I can honestly say that I've never stolen a girl from her date in the VIP Room at Mana before."

"So you have stolen a woman from her date before? Just not there?" I asked in the same tart tone. I didn't know what was wrong with me, but his complete self-assurance made me want to poke at him, just a little.

"I may have broken up a date or two in the past," he confessed. "But I don't go to the VIP room to hook up. If I want a woman, I hit the club downstairs. The VIP room is for relaxing."

I started to make a sharp comment about the easy way he described the club as if it were an 'All You Can Eat' buffet. Sneaking a look at his chiseled profile, I shut my mouth. For him, it probably was. I bet most of the women in that club would have tripped over themselves—and their dates—if they thought Holden was interested in taking off their clothes. I was very aware of how wet my panties were after one kiss.

"So why me?" I asked before I could stop myself.

CHAPTER THREE

JOSEPHINE

Holden didn't answer my question. It was just as well. Either he'd lie and tell me it was love at first sight or some bullshit like that, or he'd tell the truth, which would likely be unflattering, considering I was a girl who'd left a club with a complete stranger and was heading home with him. At least, I assumed that's where we were heading.I thought you looked like an easy hook upwas probably closer to the truth, but it would put a huge damper on my mood.

Just as I was telling myself to stop overthinking, Holden stopped at the front door of an imposing brick building. Winters House. I'd been here a few times. There was a funky coffee house on the first floor that made a killer latte, and it was close to campus. Did Holden live here? I'd heard there were apartments in the upper floors, above the retail and the offices, but I'd also heard they were huge, unbelievably expensive, and you practically had to sell your firstborn child to get one.

A horrible thought occurred to me. Holden looked older than me, but not old enough to own one of these places. Please tell me he didn't live with his parents. Never mind. I shoved that thought right out of my head. No way this guy lived at home. Maybe he was just taking me for coffee. After that kiss, I'd been sure we were headed straight to bed—and, margaritas aside, it was weird how cool I was with that—but what did I know? I didn't leave bars with strangers every day. Maybe he thought coffee and a scone came next.

I was wrong. Holden strode through the lobby with me beside him, ignoring the coffee house, the upscale boutique, and the art gallery, and headed directly for the elevators. Ushering me in before him, he pressed a button, then lay his palm on a flat, dark screen. A green line passed beneath his palm, up and down, then up again. The line vanished, and the elevator slid smoothly to the upper floors. I stared at Holden in disbelief.

"Was that a palm scanner?" I asked. I didn't spend a lot of time in high-end buildings, but a palm scanner seemed a little extreme. Holden shrugged.