Page 13 of Protected By My Playboy Billionaire

He finally pulls back, his eyes still fixed on mine as he speaks. “I assume you’d like a tour?” His voice is smooth, and the hollow of his cheeks becomes more obvious as he cocks his head to the side. How is he so calm?

“Who wouldn’t?” I stammer, chuckling to cover up my nerves.

“You already saw the kitchen.” He turns his head to the side briefly, gesturing to it. I follow his gaze and nod. His kitchen is twice the size of my bedroom, and I can easily sleep on the kitchen island. “Do you cook?” His question surprises me.

“Ethan’s the cook. I try my best, but I could use more practice. I do make amazing pancakes. Although, it took more than a few tries.” I realize I’m sharing more than I have to, but my mouth just keeps running. “I burned the counter once, trying to surprise Ethan with breakfast. And I melted a few plastic spatulas.” Another awkward chuckle. “We had to throw the pans away after that because the plastic had, um, melted on them.” I finally force my mouth shut. Nice job. You definitely impressed him with that one. I take a much-needed breath after all that talking and look up at Adrian’s raised brow as he blinks once. Twice.

“Lovely.” He’s not amused. Shit. I bet he’s thrilled to have me here. “In that case, feel free to practice your cooking anytime. Everything you need should already be in there.” He turns his back to me and starts pacing towards theliving room.

“You’d allow me to cook in your kitchen?” My brows shoot up as I stare at his back. “But I—I melt spatulas.” I realize how stupid that sounds only after I’ve already said it.

He stops and turns just enough to catch my gaze. “Good thing mine aren’t plastic.” There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips as he turns back. He’s laughing at me. I quickly follow him into the living room.

I only glimpsed it when Ethan and I walked through. It’s absolutely massive and the definition of comfort and sophistication, with oversized sofas and plush armchairs arranged around a central coffee table made from a bizarre slab of wood. Soft, earthy tones, rich textures and floor-to-ceiling windows offer a view of the sparkling city below. So much for a bachelor’s lair.

“I love this.” I stand in front of the crackling fireplace that ties the entire space together.

“Me, too. Deadly, yet contained.” His soft confession makes me turn to face him. He’s standing right behind me, the warm dancing lights of the fire playing across his features.

“People fear it, yet they build special places for it in their homes.” I shake my head with a smile and look up at him. He studies me, not saying anything. Did I say something stupid? He’s so heartbreakingly handsome that I have to look away to make sure my eyes don’t trail down to his lips.

“People fear what they can’t control,” he finally speaks. “Fire trades its danger for beauty when,” he cocks his head to the side, his eyes burning into mine, “controlled.”

“Do you like it?” I breathe, realizing that my voice has failed me. “Control?”

I see his eyes narrow, but there’s also a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Define ‘control’”. It’s my turn to narrow my eyes. Judging by the way he’s looking at me, I know his definition of control. Power. “Come.” His voice is soft yet commanding. I struggle to keep up with him as he takes long, graceful strides across his living room.

Next to the living room is the dining area, where a large, rustic dining table with matching chairs sits beneath a cascading chandelier. Soft candlelight flickers against the backdrop of sleek, moderndécor. It all makes me wonder if he designed the place himself or if he bought it that way. The dining room is way too big for one person, even a family, and it has me think of how many women have dined in it. I turn my head away from the table and away from the thought.

“That’s the door to the gym if you wish to use it.” He points to the double doors next to the terrace. “There’s a sauna if you’re into that. And that’s the balcony. It has a few entrances.” He waves his hand across the living room as we walk back across it to make our way to the other side of the penthouse.

“My office is down that hall, as well as the laundry room and the entertainment room,” he tells me once we’ve stopped in front of a large archway.

“Entertainment room?” I have to ask.

“Home cinema, billiard, a small library, and a few other things.” My face lights up at the mention of a library. “You can use it whenever you’d like.”

“Thank you.” I beam a smile, and he nods in response.

I follow him up the enormous staircase to an open area overlooking the first floor. The carpet covering it is a light cream and is soft under my shoes, and Ihesitate. He notices and turns to look at me, his gaze falling down to my shoes.

“You don’t have to take them off.” He turns back around and walks up to the first door. “This is the master bedroom.” I nod and look up at him when he doesn’t open the door. “Do you expect a tour of my room, Elana?” His eyes are filled with dark amusement.

“N-no.” I shake my head, embarrassed. Then a thought passes through my mind and my eyes widen. “Do you have a guest bedroom?”

A deep chuckle comes out of him. “Eager to share a bedroom with me, little duck?” I immediately feel my cheeks heat and look down at the carpet. After a few seconds, he takes pity on me and starts walking again, skipping the second door and going directly to the third. “This is your room.” This time, he opens the door and steps aside to let me in. He flicks the light on, and I’m met with a gorgeous bedroom. My room.

The hanging lights are warm and make the room even cozier. Adrian follows closely behind me, his presence towering and intimidating, making me acutely aware of my every move. Theking-sized bed dominates the space, adorned with soft, plush covers and pillows.

“There’s a walk-in closet and an ensuite bathroom.” He points their way and leans against the sleek desk in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Wow,” I breathe, turning to face Adrian with wide eyes. “This is incredible.”

His lips quirk up in a subtle smile as he steps closer, his gaze following my every move. I can feel his eyes on me, watching me with an intensity that pins me in place. I swallow nervously, suddenly feeling very aware of my own presence in the room.

“I’m glad you like it,” he says, his voice smooth and velvety. “I made sure to put a desk in here for you,” he says casually, gesturing towards it. “And I added a nightlight, too.”

My breath catches in my throat at his words, my heart skipping a beat at the unexpected gesture. Nightlight. How does he remember I couldn’t fall asleep without one? Still can’t. It’s a small detail, something I never would have expected him to remember, and yet, here it is, a small tree on the nightstand. I assume its branches light up.