Page 522 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

"Oh?" I stare. Is he going to apologize to me? Why? Because I was drawn to him? Please, don’t… Please, please, don’t.

My cheeks heat, and I glance away, "I mean, seriously, it was nothing." I hold my blanket in front of me. Can I hide under it, maybe? No, that would only look silly… As if anything could be worse than our earlier encounter? Gosh, how could I have been attracted to him? He’s a priest… Someone sworn to not sleep with anyone, and I can’t stop staring at his perfect features.

Those high cheekbones, his dark hair cut short at the sides, long on top, that hooked nose, the mean upper lip…

that gorgeous throat I want to lick, the width of his shoulders that fills the doorway, cutting out the sight of the room behind him.

He draws in a breath and the sculpted planes of his chest stretch the fabric of his shirt.

Not that I am staring or anything. Of course, not.

I clear my throat, then glance away.

"I should be the one apologizing." I clutch at my blanket with palms that are slippery with sweat. Dear God… What’s wrong with me? And by the way, I need to have words with You. It’s not fair that You dangle someone as luscious as this man in front of me only to claim him and tell me that I can’t have him.

OMFG. I am seriously losing it, if I am having conversations with the Power Above in my head.

"I shouldn’t have sneaked looking at you earlier, and well…

It’s just, you’re so damn gorgeous to look at, and well, I couldn’t help it. "

"Did you just tell me that I’m gorgeous to look at?’

I glance up to find him staring at me with surprise and bemusement.

"Yes," I shuffle my feet, "I guess I did."

"Do you always say everything that comes into your head?"

"Kind of," I hunch my shoulder, "though honestly, I seem to have even less of a filter when you’re around."

"Do I make you nervous?" One corner of his lip curls…just a tad. Holy hell, he smirked. No, he totally did. And damn, if that isn’t the hottest thing I have seen. Right after the Edward I’d read about in Twilight and imagined myself as Bella.

And here I am as Ava, and this is my Edward right here. Except, this scenario is all wrong. Shit. I’m tying myself in knots. I stare at him. "Are you sure you’re a priest?"

He chuckles, "The last time I checked." He glances down at me, something like amusement and regret lacing his features. "Are you a…?" He tilts his head, "What do you do, Ava?"

"I’m a, uh, dancer."

"A dancer?" He frowns.

"Not ballet," I add quickly because that’s what most people assume automatically, "more like, the exotic kind."

"Exotic kind?"

"A belly dancer." I twitch my hips, more out of habit than anything else. Okay, so maybe not completely… Maybe it’s to take in how his nostrils flare as he lowers his gaze to my hips and stays there, as if fascinated by what he sees.

"A belly dancer, huh?" He finally raises his gaze to meet mine and those gorgeous golden-brown eyes of his blaze at me. Then he lowers his eye lashes, and when he raises them, all emotion is shorn from his features.

"I, uh, dropped out of university. I’d joined to study medicine, but somehow…

half-way through my first year, I lost interest. Turns out, becoming a doctor requires a strong stomach.

The first time I saw a cadaver, I fainted and then had nightmares for days.

I couldn't enter the laboratory after that.

Also, the smell of formaldehyde—the solution they use to preserve specimens?

Turns out, I am allergic to it... So..."

I swallow.

"Shit. Uh... Shoot, I am sorry. I’m blabbing.

" I shuffle my feet. "All that untapped energy, you know, it needs an outlet. It’s why I turned to dancing, and then started my own studio teaching belly dancing.

It makes me happy, you know—dancing?" Stop it, what the hell are you doing?

Pouring out your thoughts in a stream of consciousness?

"In fact, my dream is to one day to have a home big enough to have a studio in it so whenever I want to dance, I'll have my own space.

A place where I can just be myself... You know?

" I bite the inside of my cheek. So much for trying to appear calm and composed.

OMG, what's wrong with me? I wipe my clammy palms against the fabric of my dress.

"So, I make you nervous?" He quirks an eyebrow, curls his fists at his sides, and whoa, his knuckles are white. I tilt my head, take in the nerve that throbs at his temple, the way his chest rises and falls. Maybe... I’m not the only one affected. Maybe, he feels it too—the connection, this strange chemistry between us that’s crackled since his gaze met mine.

Only… It means nothing. It can’t… He’s a priest… and I? I’m a hot mess.

"You do." I step back. "You make me very unsure of myself, Ed—" I bite down on the inside of my cheek. Should I call him Edward? Father? Damn, this is not cool, not at all. "I really should go."

He lowers his chin, "Guess I'll see you for breakfast at the main house then?"

"Breakfast?"

"You are going to eat breakfast with Sinclair and Summer, I assume?"

"Ah," I swallow, "yes, of course."

He nods, then holds out his hand, "It's nice to meet you, Ava."

Nice? Okay, not the word I would have used, but if he wants to play it that way, well, so can I.

I tilt my head, "And you, Father."

His jaw tics. A mask seems to form from his features as he draws himself up to his full height.

He’s so tall that I have to tip my head all the way back to see his face.

How can someone so big, so vital, someone whose every inch of his body is packed with sex appeal…

How the hell could he have dedicated himself to a life where he’ll never experience pleasures the likes of which I want to share with him?

And then, there’s his personality… The intensity of his gaze, the depth I sense underneath that tightly controlled exterior.

The strength of his dominance that he wears about himself, tightly cloaked, held back, as if he doesn’t dare give in to the power of his complete self…

because it would be too much for everyone around him.

For the man he is, and make no mistake, he is one-hundred percent alpha male, would outshine anyone around him.

Is that the depth of his sacrifice? The depth of what he’d given up to pursue his calling?

He holds my gaze, then nods. "Goodbye, Ava."

To find out what happens next, read Edward, Ava and Baron’s story. Click HERE

Read Summer my chest tightens. Is this what people call growing up?

The bartender tips his mixing flask, strains out a fresh batch of the ruby red liquid onto the glass in front of me.

"Salut." I nod my thanks, then toss it back. It hits my stomach and tendrils of fire crawl up my spine, I cough.

My head spins. Warmth sears my chest, spreads to my extremities. I can’t feel my fingers or toes. Good. Almost there. "Top me up."

"You sure?"

"Yes." I square my shoulders and reach for the drink.

"No. She’s had enough."

"What the—?" I pivot on the bar stool.

Indigo eyes bore into me.

Fathomless. Black at the bottom, the intensity in their depths grips me. He swoops out his arm, grabs the glass and holds it up. Thick fingers dwarf the glass. Tapered at the edges. The nails short and buff. All the better to grab you with. I gulp.

"Like what you see?"

I flush, peer up into his face.

Hard cheekbones, hollows under them, and a tiny scar that slashes at his left eyebrow. How did he get that? Not that I care. My gaze slides to his mouth. Thin upper lip, a lower lip that is full and cushioned. Pouty with a hint of bad boy. Oh! My toes curl. My thighs clench.

The corner of his mouth kicks up. Asshole.

Bet he thinks life is one big smug-fest. I glower, reach for my glass, and he holds it up and out of my reach.

I scowl. "Gimme that."

He shakes his head.

"That’s my drink."

"Not anymore." He shoves my glass at the bartender. "Water for her. Get me a whiskey, neat."

I splutter, then reach for my drink again.

The barstool tips in his direction. This is when I fall against him, and my breasts slam into his hard chest, sculpted planes with layers upon layers of muscle that ripple and writhe as he turns aside, flattens himself against the bar. The floor rises up to meet me.

What the actual hell?

I twist my torso at the last second and my butt connects with the surface. Ow!