Page 58 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

The waiter pours the bubbly into my glass, then Hunter’s. He places the bottle in the ice bucket perched on a stand next to the table that I only now notice. Then he fades away into the darkness.

"Given the potential speculation seeing the two of us together could cause, naturally, I had to find a solution to take you out to dinner in a public space while ensuring we had privacy."

"Ergo, you used your money and influence to buy out the place?"

"I simply asked the owner, who happens to be a friend, if he could accommodate us. And he did."

"Is it always this easy for you? To wave your hand and have all of your needs met? To incline your head and have minions jump to do your bidding? To ask and always receive?"

"Except with you."

He narrows his blue-green gaze on me from across the expanse of the table. The candlelight highlights the golden-brown specks in the depths of his eyes and haloes his dark hair, turning it almost blue. The hollows under his cheekbones seem more pronounced, the dip in his chin seems more delicious.

I try to tear my gaze from his, but it’s as if he holds me in a tractor beam.

Awareness tugs on and stretches the air between us.

My heart begins to race. This is ridiculous.

So, he’s good-looking. I knew that already.

What I hadn’t realized is that hidden behind that polished mask he presents to the world is an untamed animal.

A beast lying in wait to unleash that darkness inside of him.

An edginess, a sharp wickedness that I never would’ve guessed he’d be capable of, but which I sense now lapping at the restraints that he’s placed on himself.

I curl my fingers around the stem of my champagne glass. "I didn’t say I wanted champagne."

"You love champagne. It’s your drink of choice," he declares.

My eyebrows shoot up. "And you guessed this, how?"

"Nothing a little bit of research didn’t reveal."

I stiffen. "You had me investigated?"

"Something you already knew about." He continues, "As you did me."

I blink, then surprise myself when laughter tumbles out from between my lips. "Touché." I raise my glass.

He seems taken aback, himself. Then his lips curve up in a smile that’s so open, so real that something flutters deep inside. It’s probably ripples of hunger, that’s all. I had very little for lunch and no breakfast. That’s the reason my stomach seems to be bottoming out.

"Also, your acting skills need leveling up."

"Excuse me?"

"You knew you were being followed, considering you gave my investigator the slip a few times."

I raise a shoulder. "So, get a better investigator."

This time it’s he who barks out a laugh. "Keep up this banter, and I’ll begin to think it’s our brand of foreplay."

"You wish," I scoff.

His grin widens. "Of course, the fact that you evaded the detective I had on you makes me wonder what you have to hide."

The blood drains from my features, then I tip up my chin. "Maybe I have a lover."

"No, you don’t."

I pull back my shoulders. "You seem awfully confident about that, Minister."

He stares at me. “Why is that so sexy coming from you?”

Heat flushes my skin, and my mouth dries.

Why is it so hot to hear him say that particular four-letter word?

Why is the thought of this man talking filthy to me such a turn on?

I toss my hair over my shoulder, then tip up my chin.

“Hold your horses. I only called you, Minister, not Prime Minister, which you’re not—”

“—yet,” he adds smoothly, then narrows his gaze. "You can’t belong to anyone else."

"Oh?"

He nods. "You’re mine, Zara, and I’ll do everything in my power to make you accept that."

My belly quivers. My pussy clenches. I feel the tickling sensation between my legs that tells me I’m getting turned on, and I squeeze my thighs together in an attempt to soothe away the itch between them.

Why is his declaration of intent so erotic?

Why is the focus in his eyes as he fixes his gaze on me, and only me, make me feel like I won the lottery by becoming the cynosure of his attention?

I square my shoulders and grip the stem of my flute glass tighter. "And if you can’t?" I tip up my chin. "

"I’ve never lost... And I don’t intend to start now." He touches his glass to mine. "To us."

"There is no us," I scoff.

"Not yet."

"Excuse me?" I widen my gaze. "I’m not sure I heard you correctly."

"Oh, you did. You just don’t want to admit it."

He brings the flute to his lips and takes a sip of his champagne. The tendons of his throat move as he swallows. My pulse rate speeds up.

Stupid. This is stupid—really stupid. I underestimated him.

I thought I hated him. Oh, subconsciously, I’d noticed how my body reacted to his nearness, but I’d simply set that to one side.

I’m not the kind who will allow my desires to lead me.

Not after I’ve worked so hard my entire life to get to where I am.

To break stereotypes. To make a difference to my community and to my country.

This is what I’ve always wanted. This is why I studied so hard, why I got a scholarship to study law, then started my own PR firm.

Why I’ve been so focused on my goals, to the exclusion of everything else.

Why I accepted his challenge to spend time with him.

I was confident I’d come out on top of our encounter.

But now, I’m not so sure. And one thing I’m not is stupid.

I know when to stage a strategic retreat. "Excuse me, but I have to leave."

I place my glass of champagne on the table and begin to rise to my feet, but he swoops out his hand and grabs my hand.

Electricity shoots out from the point of contact.

My breath catches in my chest. I look at where his fingers are wrapped about my wrist, then glance up to find his gaze locked on my face.

Some of the color seems to have drained from his features.

He releases me, and I sit back down. We stare at each other. The silence stretches.

Then the waiter wheels in a cart of food.

What the—? He ordered ahead and decided to order for me, as well?

Overbearing wanker. The waiter places a dish in front of me, then another in front of Hunter before, once more, retreating.

All this time, we haven’t taken our gazes off of each other.

My throat closes. My pulse thuds at my temples.

Moisture pools between my legs, and I clench my pussy and wriggle around in my seat.

"That..." He inclines his head and smirks. "That is what I’m talking about."

"What?" I laugh, or at least try to, but all that emerges is a thready sound.

"You sensed it, same as I did. This chemistry that sizzles between us."

"We’ve only met a few times in person."

"And yet, every time I enter a room with you in it, my gaze instantly finds you."

Heat flushes my cheeks, but I manage to school my features into an expression of nonchalance. "Not my fault." I raise a shoulder.

"Don’t shrug it off. If we don’t address this" —he points to the space between us— "it’s only going to build and become so monumental, it’ll hurt something or someone. Possibly, both of us."

I pretend to yawn; except when I pat my mouth, my fingers are shaking. "I have no idea what you mean."

His eyebrows draw down, and for a second, he looks disappointed. "Funny, I had you pegged as the kind of woman who wouldn’t hesitate to speak the truth, no matter how difficult."

"I’m also someone who knows when I’m better off ignoring the obvious."

"So, you’d rather lie to yourself than face the fact that the chemistry between us is explosive?"

"You said it; not me." I bite the inside of my cheek.

"I have a better idea. A way in which we can both be truthful to ourselves and walk away from this with our careers intact."

"Oh, so you do understand how dangerous it is for the two of us to even be seen together, let alone having dinner?"

"Which is why I’ve ensured privacy." He waves his hand at our surroundings. "And I have absolute trust in the restaurant staff, as well as my security detail. Additionally, I had my security detail ensure you weren’t followed here by anyone else.”

I stare at him. "I’m not sure if I should be impressed by your thoroughness or creeped out by how rigorous you’ve been in thinking through the possibilities."

"One thing you should realize about me... I’m always one step ahead of the obvious," he murmurs.

"One thing you should realize..." I lean forward in my seat. "I’m always thinking ten steps ahead of my rival."

This time, he’s the one who laughs. "Am I your rival?"

"Aren’t you?"

"When it comes to our jobs, yes, we don’t see eye to eye. But I do believe we can use this intense hostility we feel toward each other to our advantage, when it comes to our personal lives."

I tip up my chin. "My personal life is my own business."

"Not anymore. Not since you caught my eye. Not since you can’t stop tracking me with your gaze when we’re in the same space and stalking me online when we’re not."

"I don’t stalk you—" I firm my lips.

He smirks. "That’s what I thought. You’re as obsessed with me as I am with you."

I open my mouth to protest, but he holds up his finger. "Don’t even try to deny it. You and I both know, the fact that we never seem to get along when we meet is more than because we belong to opposing sides. It’s because we are both aware of the other to an extent which is unhealthy."

"I am not going to dignify that statement with a response."

"All you need to do is accept my offer."

"Which is?"

"Let’s fuck it out."