When Will had brought Jeremy home after work that evening, he’d removed his suit jacket and thrown his tie over the back of the sofa, but he was still tempting in a striped dress shirt. His hand over hers felt divine. And yet, even though it felt as though they were a couple—a real one—Harper kept reminding herself to stay in the moment. It was enough just to appreciate being here with him now. Which meant she needed to stop thinking about more. Especially since he’d already given her more happiness—and pleasure—than she’d ever thought to have.
He slipped the tickets back into the breast pocket of his shirt. “After the show,” he said, “we’ll check to make sure that Jeremy is doing fine staying the night at my house with Mrs. Taylor. And then I’m going to take you to my flat in the city and have my way with you.” He dragged his gaze down her body until she was hot all over. “All night long.” He drew out the words.
All night long.
They’d never spent the whole night together. In fact, they’d never even been completely naked together. Everything was always fast and hot, ripping clothes off and devouring each other. Or getting her naked.
But now he wanted all night.
It suddenly felt hard to breathe, in both a bad and a good way. Because God, yes, she wanted a night with Will. In his bed. All night long. But at the same time, she was terrified that it would change everything for her—that it would make it even harder to stop wishing for more.
She’d vowed that night in his ’57 Chevy that she wouldn’t be scared anymore, that she’d just go with the flow and keep having fun. But the truth was that even though she was having the time of her life with Will, she didn’t know how to shelve her worries. How could she, when she was falling so hard and so fast for him? Falling deeper and deeper with every kiss, every caress, with every sweet word he said to her, every smile he gave to her brother. Falling even harder and deeper after the barbecue. After watching him with Noah and seeing what a great father he would be. Someone she would have been proud to introduce to her own parents.
But when, outside of a fairytale, did the gorgeous billionaire actually fall for the normal girl?
“Does that sound good to you?”
She looked into his deep blue eyes, and despite all the worries and questions circling inside of her, she melted. Just like always. “It sounds amazing. I’ve been dying to see Wicked.” She was pleased by how calmly and steadily the words came out, as if she actually had any self-control at all where he was concerned.
* * *
Oh God, she thought on Friday night, I am so not in control.
How could she be when the evening was this fabulous? Will was utterly gorgeous in a black tux and white shirt. Dinner had been at an exclusive private club on Nob Hill that didn’t even have a menu, where the waiter had recited delectable descriptions that left her mouth watering.
And so did Will. He was his usual can’t-keep-his-hands-to-himself, first at the restaurant, and then at the theater in their private box. Almost as if he wanted to keep spinning her out on the delicious edge of pleasure every moment so that she couldn’t spare one single brain cell to dwell on worries and questions. He’d made her feel special, desirable, irresistible, beautiful—as though she was the center of his world.
After she’d visited the ladies’ room during the intermission, she found Will in the crush of elegantly dressed theater patrons, amid photographers snapping pictures of the beautiful, rich, and famous. He was waiting for her just down the hall, a champagne glass in each hand.
“You looked thirsty.” He kissed the tip of her nose.
It was so sweet, something a man did to a woman who belonged to him. As though they were a real couple rather than just friends with benefits. As though he felt for her exactly what she was feeling for him. Despite all the reminders she kept giving herself, she couldn’t help but be totally swept up in the romance of it all.
Until a male voice came between them. “Will, it’s good to see you outside of the office.”
The man was older, mid-forties maybe, and well-bred handsome. His short dark hair had very little silver in it, and his eyes were a steel gray that seemed to pierce through everything. Harper’s hair wasn’t exclusive-salon prepped, her nails weren’t manicured, and her dress was off-the-rack among all the designer gowns floating around the mezzanine. She’d never cared about any of that before...but compared to the drop-dead-gorgeous woman hanging on the man’s arm, Harper felt horribly out of her depth. Just the way she had several times before, when Will had swept her into his amazing world of fast cars and caviar.