The Millionaire's Intriguing Offer

Back to Miami

Jonathan collapsed back onto the bed beside Bailey. God, what a day. Sailing with her while he double-checked the boat for any storm damage had been poor pleasure. Followed by a return to the beach house to cook omelets together using the remaining seafood, fresh vegetables and some fancy cheeses to make creative fillings.

And leaving them in the warming drawer when the urge to bend her over the kitchen island for some fast, intense sex had been stronger than their hunger for dinner.

The omelets had survived - Bailey even said the time in the warming door gave the flavors a chance to blend - and the sex had been nothing short of phenomenal.

And when they'd finished cleaning up the kitchen after dinner and finally made their way upstairs for the night, they'd had another round, slower but every bit as intense as the earlier one in the kitchen.

Everything about them seemed to connect, on every level. It went beyond sex.

So why was he hesitant to have the conversation he'd been putting off all day? He wasn't a man who typically hesitated over anything.

Well, there was no time like the present.

"Bailey?"

She was sprawled on her stomach face down on the bed. He ran his fingers down the smooth skin of her back to the base of her spine, and felt her tremble. Slid the palm of his hand down over her sexy bottom, then rested it on the top of her thighs.

Bailey moaned. "I don't think I can right now - can't move."

"Not what I had in mind," Jonathon said, giving her a pat on her butt, then propping himself up on his elbow to face her. "I want to talk to you."

She rolled over on her back, peered up at him, eyes sleepy. "Yeah, you said this morning, then you kind of dropped it. What is it?" She pushed herself up slightly in the bed. "Is something wrong."

"No. I wouldn't say that. It's the opposite."

"What do you mean?"

He took a deep breath. Here goes.

"Bailey, it's been really great this weekend. Maybe not exactly the Date of a Lifetime you expected, but-"

"Well you couldn't predict there'd be a storm that bad. But I wouldn't change anything. Really." She gave a little sigh. "I had a great time, too."

"I'm glad. Listen, I told you when we met that I only do casual."

An odd expression crossed her face. For a fleeting moment he saw sadness, then it turned to . . . relief? But that didn't make any sense.

"And I said I understood you perfectly." Her voice was calm but very controlled. "Is there a problem?"

"There sure as hell is." He leaned back against the headboard, ran his hand through his hair, while she just watched him.

"You're worried I want something from you." Her voice had unmistakably cooled.

"No, just the opposite." He turned his head, looked into those golden eyes. "What I was going to say is that I'd like to see you again when we get back to Miami."

Now the eyes registered shock.

"You'd . . . what?"

"I'd like to see you again," Jonathan said patiently. "I really enjoy spending time with you. And I'm not ready to just go our separate ways."

"You know I'm going back to Boston in a few days."

Jonathon shrugged. "Not a huge obstacle. Planes, trains and automobiles."