Page 86 of The Billionaire's Secret

What the—?My eyelids—which I hadn’t realized I’d shut—fly open. I turn around to find him tugging on his shirt sleeves. He flicks a spot of invisible dust from his shoulders, and a hot molten wave of anger explodes inside me.

"How dare you…?" I sputter.

He licks his lower lip and heat sweeps up my front from throat to hair line.Is he recalling my taste? Showing me what I could have, and withholding it from me purposely for… What? To put me in my place? To show me what I can’t have?

The anger thrums close to my heart and my chest tightens. "Why?" I snarl "Why are you doing this?"

"You don’t get to ask the questions."

"I am tired of your treating me like…like..."

He angles his head. "Go on, complete that statement."

I open my mouth and he raises a finger, "But remember, one wrong word and I’ll walk away. And we both know you can’t afford that."

My heart begins to race.What does he know? How much has he guessed? Why does he always remind me of everything I have to lose if this arrangement goes wrong?I stare at him and he chuckles, "Wise choice, little Gigi."

"I hate that name."

"Lying again?" He clicks his tongue.

"What are you going to do?" I jut out my chin.

His nostrils flare as he rakes his gaze over my semi-naked body. A flush heats my skin, but I refuse to move. I will not give him the benefit of discovering how much he’s unnerving me. I grit my teeth.Stay, stay.

He cracks his knuckles and my belly clenches.

He takes a step forward. Everything in me waits...waits.Close the distance, you bastard. Do it… Do it, now.

He raises his hand. The buzzing of a cellphone cuts through the thick silence. My nerve endings pop.

He slides his phone out of the pocket of his slacks. "This had better be important." His eyebrows furrow as he listens. He drags his gaze down to my bare butt cheeks. His pupils darken.Does he want me that much?If I’m so affected by his presence, surely, he is too.Isn’t that why he’s strung me along so far?He hasn’t allowed me to get close, but he hasn’t pushed me away either. He’s toying with me. Not that it surprises me at all. I didn’t expect more from this…this beast.But why is he putting himself through the same kind of torture that I am experiencing? Why can’t he take me and be done with it? Why drag this out until neither of us can bear it?

He raises his hand, and I am sure he’s going to palm my butt, to resume where he left off.

"They did what?" he snaps into the phone.

Color pops on his cheeks. His jaw tics.What the—? What could it be that has gotten that kind of reaction— hell, any kind of reaction—from him?

He straightens so quickly that I wince. "I’m coming…"

I splutter.

He slides the phone into his pocket, pivots, turns to go, and I jump to my feet, "You can’t do this."

He takes another step forward.

My heart hammers so fast, I am sure it’s going to jump out of my ribcage. I race around him, plant myself in his path, "You can’t leave me like this."

He surveys me from head to toe, then bends.

I stumble back.

He straightens, tosses a scrap of fabric in my direction. My panties flop against my chest. "You’ll come when I let you, and not before."

He saunters past me to the door.

Bastard.