Page 37 of Forbidden Billionaire (Titans #7)
Xavier
Seraphina’s home office is a temple of ambition.
Her sleek corner desk overlooks the fountain in the backyard. And she’s got an unorganized mess of papers and files strewn everywhere. Somehow there’s poetry in her chaos, even if I can’t see it.
Even though it’s Sunday morning, her laptop screen is glowing with charts and numbers. The candle flickering beside her smells like vanilla and victory. The victory she earned.
She’s so focused and in command that she hasn’t heard me.
And for the moment, that’s okay.
I love stolen moments, watching her, marveling that she’s mine.
She’s wearing one of my old shirts again, sleeves rolled to the elbows, legs bare. Her glasses are sliding down her nose.
Christ, she’s magnificent.
“You work too hard,” I say softly.
Startled, she glances up and turns toward me. Then her eyes soften, and the tension in my chest eases the way it always does when she looks at me like that.
“I didn’t realize you were there.” She reaches to close her laptop.
“I’ve been watching you,” I say simply, walking in, letting the warmth in my chest unfurl. “You’re beautiful when you’re ruthless.”
She smiles and stands, stretching, the hem of my shirt brushing her upper thighs. “Says the man who once told a boardroom full of billionaires to go fuck themselves.”
I shrug. “They deserved it.”
“No argument there.” She crosses to me, her curls a total mess, and rests her forehead against my chest. “Just wanted to finish the quarterly roll-out deck before the brunch meeting.”
“It’s not a meeting. It’s brunch. With mimosas. And bourbon pecan waffles.”
Her smile is tempting. “Did you say bourbon pecan?”
I dip my head. “They will be your reward for not checking your email during breakfast.”
“That’s a cruel and manipulative bribe.”
“That’s foreplay.”
She laughs, bright and real. “Give me five minutes to change?”
I tug lightly on the hem of the shirt. “Something that covers more than this.”
She rolls her eyes. “I think I learned that lesson very well, Mr. Blackwell. You do know how to get a point across.”
“A reinforcing reminder doesn’t hurt.”
Her beautiful lips part slightly, and her breathing increases. Yeah. It may definitely be time for a spanking. She needs it. I need it.
Since I’ve given Vionna the day off, we take my sports car to the Heights, windows and top down. And, well, since it’s Houston, we’re running the AC on full blast so that we can deal with the heat.
We order waffles—bourbon pecan, extra whipped cream—and an omelet for protein. She gets a caramel latte, as if the waffles weren’t enough sugar. Afraid my teeth will rot, I go for an iced Americano.
I watch her across the table, sunlight catching in her hair, one hand curled around her coffee, the other sketching a to-do list on a napkin.
For a minute, I let her work.
The first time we were here, I was struck by the easy domesticity between us. And I’ve grown to crave that.
She’s my peace, and I’d lay down my life for her.
Eventually she looks up. “Sorry.”
“Planning?”
She tucks the napkin under the plate and meets my eyes. “Always. You know it.”
“The wedding?”
She sighs. “Xavier.”
I lift a hand.
With the new corporation, she has her hands full. Oh, that and generously trying to train new assistants for me.
“We could elope,” she suggests.
At first, I’d been totally against the idea, but the longer she refuses to set a date, the more I like the idea. “When?”
She laughs. “Pushy.”
“Persistent,” I counter.
Her eyes soften, and for a moment, the whole world stills. “I never thought I could be this happy.”
“Me either.” I curl my hand around hers. I really didn’t deserve that second chance, and I’ll never take my good fortune for granted.
When we eventually arrive back home, we don’t make it as far as the bedroom.
By the time we walk into the house, I’m done pretending I can wait. She kicks off her sandals, laughing as I lift her onto the kitchen island.
“I love you in every possible way,” I tell her.
Her voice trembles, her breaths shallow and fast as I slide her panties off and drop to my knees. “Then show me.”
And I do.
Hours later, she’s draped across my chest, and the sunlight is fading from the sky. I run my fingers through her hair, memorizing every nuance, the warmth of her skin, the sound of her breathing.
“Next month,” I tell her.
She doesn’t move. “For…?”
“The wedding. Vegas is fine. Or we can go to the courthouse. We can always have a second wedding later if you want the dress and the ceremony.”
“That doesn’t matter to me.” She shakes her head. “All I need is you.”
“And I want it to be legal to protect you financially.” Every time I went on a date in college, my father reminded me that the woman could take half of my fortune.
The truth is, when it comes to Seraphina, she deserves way more than that.
But if we’re married, the law says she’s entitled to certain things, and I want her to have them.
In an instant, I pin her beneath me and look into her eyes. “I’m being generous in letting you set the date.”
She inhales sharply.
“And you have twenty seconds to do it.”
“Or else?” She narrows her eyes.
“I’ll set it.”
“You really mean this.”
“Little troublemaker, you have no idea just how serious I am.” But I’m fucking about to show her.
Closing her eyes, she sighs. “Fine.”
“Fine?”
“Next month, we’ll go to Vegas.”
Primal heat flames through me. Soon the entire world will know she belongs to me.
Slowly she parts her legs, and I accept her unspoken invitation.
And just like that, she’s mine.
Forever.
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