Page 21 of Marrying the Billionaire Single Dad

He stares.

"Okay, fine, so maybe I followed your coverage in the press."

He clicks his tongue.

"Fine, fine." I throw up my hands. "I stalked your social media. I know you have a type that you go for."

"What type is that?"

"Blonde, curvy, willowy."

He looks me up and down, "You’ll do."

"Jerk." I scramble away and jump to my feet. "Forget this conversation ever happened."

"A bit late for that, Flower."

I grab my backpack from where I’d dropped it on the floor earlier, then turn to leave.

He wraps his fingers around my ankle again. "One hour," he repeats. "Give me one hour, and if, at the end of it, you are still standing, you can leave."

I glance down to where his thick fingers shackle me. "Is that a threat?"

"A promise."

"One hour?" I purse my lips.

"Starting now." His eyes gleam. He releases his grip on my ankle and rises to his feet…and keeps rising.

"Just one hour?" I search his features.

"That's all I'm asking for." He holds out his hand. He sounds sincere; bet it's all an act though. I stare down at his hand, then back at his face.

"Well?" he coaxes, lips curved in a smile that could charm the panties off of many a woman. And has. The bad news—my knickers are damp too. Damn it, I can't accept. And if I refuse? I'll never forgive myself for passing up the opportunity to find out what it was to be brought to orgasm by Big D alphahole himself. Besides, I’m the one who'd started this insane sequence of events. I can't back out now, can I? I jerk my chin.

"Is that a yes?"

I nod again.

"I need to hear you say it."

"Yes." I swallow, reach for his hand, when he pulls back.

"I changed my mind."

"What?" I blink, as he bends his knees, then scoops me up and throws me over his shoulder.

"Hey," I squeal, "put me down."

"You promised me an hour. Now we do things my way."

"What if I don’t…want to?"

He stalks toward the door of the kitchen. "Trust me, Flower. I promise, you won’t regret it."

8

Julia