Start Again Series: A Billionaire Romance Box Set

by J. Saman

  And now the game may be different, but I’m still a key player in it.

  Yet, I’m so oddly drawn to this breathtaking creature that my thoughts are consumed by her. I’ve never wanted to be connected to another human the way I find myself wanting to be connected to her.

  “I was hurt when I woke up and you were gone.” Her quiet words jolt me out of my thoughts, and her admission stuns me into silence. “But I figured that’s what happens after a one-night stand and I should just get over it and remember it for what it was. So I dated other blokes and I went on to medical school, and all was great—until Jason, of course. I did think about you from time to time.” I squeeze her hand, and she squeezes back. I can’t stop myself from smiling at her, but I don’t offer anything more because I can tell she’s not done. “I placed as a resident in the hospital here, followed by my fellowship, and that’s what I’ve been doing ever since.”

  Ivy turns to look at me, and that one simple expression says she gave everything we discussed last night a tremendous amount of thought.

  “I’ve worked unbelievably hard, Luke. Four years of medical school. Three years of residency, two of my regular fellowship, and now a certificate fellowship that I’ve been dreaming about for the last nine years—for most of my life. It’s my goal. The end game of my education that will lead me to the position I want. That’s how it works, and I can’t let anything get in the way of that.”

  She pauses, sitting here holding my hand and watching me intently.

  I angle my body to face hers, abandoning her hand in favor of her face, which I hold like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

  “I’d never mess with that. Never in a million years. I think you know that; otherwise, you wouldn’t be sitting here with me now. I realize I’m screwed up. That I send mixed messages and do everything with you backward. But I want to change that. I do. I tried to tell you last night. I just want to spend some time with you. That’s all. Nothing more.”

  Ivy nods her head, and I release her face, taking her hand again, but whether she understands me or not is something else entirely.

  “So, friends?”

  “Yup. Friends.”

  We fall silent again, sitting out here in the freezing cold, watching our breath vaporize into the morning air.

  “I’m sorry I left you that morning. It was a chicken-shit thing to do, and even though I think we both know why I did it, it doesn’t excuse my actions.”

  She shrugs a shoulder. “It is what it is and it’s fine. Thank you for the apology and it is accepted.”

  “Awesome. Can we go inside now? I’m freezing my balls off.”

  “Wouldn’t want that, would we?”

  She moves to stand up, but before she can get very far, I jerk her back down.

  I lower my lips to hers because they’re right there and I’ve wanted to kiss her since I heard that melodic voice in the dark two days ago.

  Fuck friends. I’ve dreamt of this girl for a decade.

  I kiss her lightly at first, rediscovering her flavor. The cinnamon and vanilla sweetness is still as intoxicating as it was the first time I pressed my lips to hers. Our soft languid kiss quickly morphs into something fueled by years of pent-up frustration.

  That, and I’m desperate and terrified that she’s going to push me away any second, so I’m kissing her like it counts. Like I’m fighting the damn clock, because, in a way, I am.

  But she doesn’t push me away, so I take her lower lip into my mouth, sucking it just a little to get a deeper taste. My memory of her mouth has not done it justice. It’s infinitely better. Warm and soft, and so goddamn sweet.

  Parting her lips, my tongue sweeps against hers, a groan escaping from the back of my throat. Her mouth conforms to mine, allowing me to lead us. We’re at the precipice here. One small shove and we’ll be tumbling into an inescapable abyss.

  Amazing what one kiss can lead to.

  It’s sexy as hell. Deep. Passionate. My hands are on her cheeks, and I spin us around so her back is pressed against the back of the cool bench and then I devour her.

  I can’t get enough.

  Her smell, her taste, and the sounds she’s making, are all driving me wild.

  Ivy’s fingers rake through my hair, frantically clinging and pulling like she can’t get close enough. And I’m right there with her. Tugging her soft warm body against mine, deepening the kiss, making her moan into my mouth.

  “Ivy,” I pant against her lips. “Jesus Christ.”

  She pushes me off, her lips are glistening and her cheeks are flushed, and holy hell is that one erotic sight.

  It’s an image I want to burn into my brain so I can torture myself with it when she’s gone.

  “I’m cold and hungry, and have a lot of things to get done,” she says, ending our stolen moment.

  “What do you have to get done?” I press my lips to the tip of her nose before releasing her face and taking her hand once again.

  She gives me a sheepish look. “I still have to pack.”

  I laugh, leaning into her. “I’m a really good helper, and I take direction surprisingly well for a control freak type A personality. But you do realize you’re not leaving for a month?”

  She giggles and it’s the best sound ever, because it says she’s relaxed with me. “Yeah, but I’m type A too. Can you fetch us some brekkie?”

  “I’d be happy to. Tea and a blueberry scone?” I ask, and she instantly jumps off the bench away from me. It happens so fast that I’m stunned and stand up too, but her hands fly out defensively, warding me off before I can get close to her.

  “How the hell do you know I drink tea and like blueberry scones?” She’s not yelling at me, but I think that’s because she’s too terrified.

  Shit. I hadn’t meant to do that.

  “That time in the bar at Caltech? That was not the first time I had seen you. You used to go to Beans & Leaves. I did too. You were ahead of me in line one day and I heard you order.”

  “And you remembered that all these years later?” She’s incredulous.

  “I did. I noticed you that day, and I made a note of what you ordered for some reason, hoping I’d see you again there on another day or something.”

  “I don’t know what to think.”

  I hold up my hands in surrender, wondering if this is a bad time to tell her that I watched her after our night together or if that’s a secret better left kept. Going strictly based on her expression, I’m thinking the latter.

  “I swear that’s how I knew, Ivy. I haven’t been following you around Seattle or stalking you—other than showing up here this morning.” That’s as much truth as I can offer her.

  She examines me closely, looking for the lie, but finds none and relaxes.

  “I’m sorry, I’m just . . .”

  “No need to explain. I get it. I’ll go get us breakfast, and I’ll be back in a few minutes. Then you can put me to work.”

  She nods, biting the corner of her lip. “I’m not having sex with you today.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “Just today? So does that mean you will tomorrow?” I tease.

  Ivy rolls her eyes, but quickly turns serious. “I don’t do the whole falling into bed easily thing. I’ve learned my lesson one too many times.”

  “Ouch.” I grab my chest like she wounded me. “That hurts. I deserve it, but it still hurts.”

  “Get over it. I’m starving, and you’re wasting time.”

  “On it. And I promise no sex today or tomorrow. No sex until you tell me I can have it.”

  “If, Luke. And it’s a rather large if.”

  “Nah, it’s a when, and you should know that when you give me that yes, I might never want to come up for air.”

  She shakes her head, but there’s a definite smile bouncing on the corner of her lips.

  I amuse her and she likes me.

  Could life get any better than this?

  No, I decide. If only there were a way for me to make it last.r />
  7

  Ivy

  * * *

  I buzz Luke into my flat fifteen minutes later. I really didn’t think it would take him that long to get tea and a scone, but when he enters my apartment, he has a triumphant smile spread across his far-too-handsome face.

  He really is something else.

  “I went to the best bakery in Seattle for your scone, and then around the corner for your tea.”

  “You really didn’t have to do that,” I tell him, but I’m smiling all the same.

  I still don’t know what to make of this.

  It’s all too much. Too sudden and too unexpected and everything else that tells me I should push him out the door before locking it soundly behind him.

  I don’t know him. Really. I mean, I know nothing about his life or who he is other than the very basics.

  It’s the same for him, so I don’t really get where all of this newfound interest is coming from, but I want to grab hold of it and never let go. And that alone scares me, especially since that’s not an option.

  There’s just something about him that sets me on fire while filling me with the most delicious calm. Try saying no to that; I dare you.

  “I did, actually,” he says, bringing me back to the moment. “I’m counting this as our first friendship hangout, so I couldn’t exactly get a blueberry scone from Starbucks. It’s too generic.”

  He walks past me, dropping a kiss to my cheek before setting everything down on the counter in my kitchen like this is what we do. Like it’s all so normal for us to have breakfast together, though we just “met” two nights ago.

  Luke’s discerning eyes scan my apartment, scrolling over each box before staring at the walls. “Do you own this place?” he asks, popping a piece of scone into his mouth absentmindedly.

  “No, I’m renting.”

  Now my eyes turn to the decent-sized living room, trying to see what he sees. The apartment is open concept. The only thing separating the kitchen from the living room is the island that doubles as a breakfast bar. There is a small space that could be a dining area, but I’m using it as a home office of sorts since this is a one-bedroom.

  I’ve lived here for so many years and have rarely had anyone inside.

  “Too bad. It could use some paint.”

  “I know,” I agree with just a touch of regret, taking a sip of my tea. Wanker even got me Earl Grey. I feel like that should be setting off all kinds of alarm bells, but for some reason, it’s not. “I hate the white walls, but never had the time to paint them. Too late now.” I shrug.

  He chuckles lightly, shaking his head. “How long have you lived here again?”

  “Nine years,” I squeak out, a little embarrassed since nothing, and I do mean nothing, is decorated.

  The furniture is here obviously, but everything else is either placed on said furniture haphazardly or packed in boxes. Even the television is sitting on the floor with wires strewn adjacent to it.

  “I know it’s a mess, but I work a lot and just haven’t found the time to get to this.” I wave my hand around the space before turning to him and waggling my eyebrows. “But now you’re here and promised to be my slave, so…,” I trail off with a shrug.

  “I had no idea what I was getting myself into. This is going to require some form of payment. I don’t work for free you know, darlin’.”

  “Where are you from?”

  He laughs lightly under his breath, probably at my abrupt subject change, but he has an accent. It’s subtle, hidden under the covers, but it’s there.

  “Oklahoma. Does my hint of a twang do it for you?”

  “Nope,” I smirk. “Incidentally, this really is the best scone I’ve ever had.” I pop another piece into my mouth, chewing and swallowing before continuing. “It’s not quite toast and Vegemite, but it may have been worth the trip to wherever you went to get it.”

  “Vegemite?” His brows knit together. “What the fuck now?”

  “Vegemite. Americans can’t stand it, probably because it smells like decaying feet and looks like baby poop, but it’s so wonderful and I miss it. I usually order it online and have it shipped since there aren’t many places around here that carry it.”

  “I’m sorry, you lost me back at decaying feet and baby poop.”

  I laugh, sipping my tea. “Just calling it like it is. You ready to get to work?”

  “Sure, but after this is done, we’re going to discuss payment.”

  “I already told you sex is off the table.”

  He grabs my waist, pulling me into his hard chest, his nose burying in my hair before I can even protest.

  “I like where your mind is going with that. It means you’re thinking about having sex with me. But I told you, I won’t even try until you give me the Ivy Green light.” He kisses my ear. “You get it? Ivy Green light.” He’s smiling against my neck, being adorable and playful, and I can’t help but laugh at his cheesy joke.

  “That’s pathetic.”

  “I know, but you like me anyway.” I don’t respond to that. “But back to the payment. I may want a really fun day out. Do you ski?”

  I snort. “No. I’ve never been. And before you ask, I don’t think standing on two narrow sticks and flying down a mountain at racing speed is an ace idea.”

  “Okay, no skiing then.”

  Luke places small, wet kisses from the base of my neck up toward my ear, and my body hums with excitement. His warm breath against my wet skin is driving me insane. It’s taking all my self-control not to squirm, or worse yet, tackle him to the ground and have at him.

  “Motorcycles? I have one.”

  “You mean donorcycles?” My voice is embarrassingly wanton, dripping with the lust I feel building as his mouth continues its sweet torture.

  “Fuck. That’s what Duchess Kate calls them too.” He chuckles against my skin, making me shiver again. “Is that like a universal medical professional thing?”

  I laugh, but swallow it down as he moves across my neck to the other side. How I’m managing to have a regular conversation with him is beyond me. Better yet, why am I not making him stop?

  “Maybe, but I’ll go for a ride on the back if you give me a helmet. I used to ride with my father when I was a girl.”

  “Your father rides?”

  I nod, and gasp as his hands start to slide up toward my ribs.

  “All his life.” God, my voice isn’t even my own. “Luke,” I rasp out a warning as he’s getting dangerously close to my breasts.

  “I won’t cop a feel, Ivy. Promise. I’m just enjoying the touch of you.” A moan escapes my lips at his words, and then he pulls back abruptly. “I can’t kiss you and not go further if you make noises like that. Holy shit, Ivy.” He rakes a hand through his short brown strands. “How could I have forgotten about that? You make the sexiest fucking sounds in the history of sexy fucking sounds.”

  I swallow down my need and push him away. “Time to work then.”

  I get a lopsided grin for that, dimple and all, and then he goes straight for the television. Figures, right? I mean, boys and electronics. I don’t know how much telly I’ll be watching in Boston, but it would be nice to have it off my floor, and it was a bit heavy for me to box up myself. I’d tell him that it’s been sitting there for six months since I bought it, but I’m a bit ashamed to admit that.

  I go straight for the boxes in my bedroom because I cannot stand having them fill that room a moment longer.

  They don’t take me that long to go through because it’s mostly my summer clothes I’m packing, and linens and things.

  For a one-bedroom flat, there is a surprising amount of closet space, which means I’ve accrued way too much over the years. I even find my vibrator rolled up in some pillow cases and quickly stash that away in the bottom of a box before Luke comes in and discovers it.

  As I work in my bedroom, I think about the fact that there is a man in my living room packing up my things, and he may or may not be something more than a friend
.

  I’m still not sure what to make of him, or this thing going on. I mean, it’s been less than forty-eight hours and I’ve kissed him. And I let him make-out with my neck not even ten minutes ago.

  Not smart, Ivy. Not smart at all.

  But we feel so much more familiar than two people just meeting or getting reacquainted.

  It all feels so . . . natural.

  Shoving some more items into a box and closing it, I seal it up with clear packing tape. I’m done packing everything in here that can be packed for now, so I close my bedroom door and head for the living room.

  Luke is clad in a white t-shirt that clings to his muscular body like a second skin, and low-slung jeans. The light-blue sweater he was wearing is thrown over the back of the chair, as is his jacket. He wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand like rugged, hardworking men do in commercials.

  He’s insanely hot. My attraction to him is definitely not in question.

  In fact, I’ve never been this attracted to a man before, ever, which is probably why I practically threw myself at him a decade ago. But I’m not that woman anymore. I’ve been traumatized, and that sort of thing makes you cautious. It makes you weary and slow to trust.

  But that was all a long time ago, and one crazy, stalking ex doesn’t mean all men are that way.

  But Jason was normal. So normal and adorable and smart and funny.

  He was just like any old bloke.

  And Luke is definitely not.

  Luke is complex and has very clear issues packaged up nicely with a questionable past. And yet, I let him into my life and my apartment with very little protest. I can’t even say I put up a fight.

  He tells me he understands our limitations, and somehow I believe that about him.

  He also portrays the overprotective, will-walk-through-fire-for-those-I-care-about vibe. And that is so very alluring.

  But there is still something hidden beneath that perfect model façade that I can’t quite put my finger on.

  Luke gets the television mounted above the fireplace and takes a step back to admire his handiwork.