Seducing the Billionaire's Wife

by Marquita Valentine

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “I happen to like your nose, and I think that good advice can be found in the most unexpected of places.”

  She sighed dreamily.

  “I don’t know why you’re so happy to see me,” he said, and she gave him a quizzical look. “It’s been years.”

  “Haven’t you ever just clicked with someone in your past and when you got to see them again, the years you didn’t know one another faded away? Because that’s how I feel when I’m with you.”

  Nodding slowly, he asked, “No second thoughts?”

  She gave him a sheepish grin. “I had fourth thoughts. Then fifth thoughts. I mean, I married you. It’s not what normal people do when they reunite after years apart.”

  “I’d like to say that you can change your mind, but this marriage is final.” His dark gaze turned hard, but she caught a glimpse of the hurt and vulnerability before he turned away from her. “At least until our five years are up, then you may leave as quickly as you want.”

  Taking a step toward him, she wrapped her arms around his unrelenting form. “Oh, Drew. I wasn’t trying to be mean. I was only trying to explain, and doing a poor job of it, why I’m genuinely happy to see you. Why us being together makes me feel happy and scared and excited and nervous.”

  Finally, his arms came around her, and he buried his nose in her hair. “Actually, I reacted poorly. I never envisioned marrying like this, or entering into any relationship with a demand hanging over my head. I’m afraid that you’ll feel bought. Like you’re a commodity I needed.”

  You do need me. “You haven’t made me feel that way.” She pulled away slightly. “Let’s go for a walk on the beach, okay?”

  Drew allowed Hannah to lead him outside through the back door. The briny scent of the brackish waters of the Pamlico Sound immediately started to soothe him, but the heat made him break out into a sweat.

  “Just a minute,” he said, shrugging out of his coat. He pulled his shirttail out, and then removed his shoes and socks. Glancing at Hannah’s cutoffs, he smiled. “I should probably roll up my pant legs, too.”

  “Guess you didn’t pack for the beach?” she said with a laugh. “That’s okay. We’ll get some clothes for you.”

  “My suitcase is in my car, but I can get it later,” he said as he straightened and held out his hand. “Ready?”

  With a nod, she took his hand and laced her fingers through his. “That’s a hot look, Drew.”

  “Glad you approve.”

  “You’d look better in board shorts.”

  “You’d look better in a bikini.”

  She snorted and bumped him with her hip. “Don’t make me throw shrimp at you.”

  “You started it.”

  “Fine. I’ll stop teasing you,” she said with an over-exaggerated roll of her eyes.

  Her yard gave way to sound-front property. “How long have you lived here?”

  “Since I was eight, remember?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I thought you lived at the resort.”

  “That’s right; you’ve never seen the mainland house I lived in during the off season.”

  “Where do your grandparents live? Still with you?”

  “About six years ago, they bought a condo in a retirement community that’s a little closer to town.”

  “When do you think you’ll let them know about us, and the wedding present I’ve given you?” he asked.

  Tilting her head to one side, she peered up at him. “I’m not sure.”

  Waves gently lapped at the shoreline as they walked. His feet sank through the uppermost layer of warm sand. Luckily, it wasn’t yet midday or he’d be howling in pain from the blistering heat. One thing he didn’t miss about the sand of the Outer Bank was how it soaked in the sun.

  “Ashamed of me?” he asked lightly.

  “No,” she said quickly “Oh my gosh. No.”

  He winked at her.

  She narrowed her eyes. “You are trouble in a suit, Drew Montgomery.”

  “And you are stuck with me, Hannah Montgomery.” But only for five years, he reminded himself. Five years to make her miserable and regret that she ever knew him because he kept his distance. Yet, here he was, with her, walking hand in hand on the beach instead of handing someone their ass in a conference call.

  “I like the sound of that,” she said. “I might have written my name exactly like that when I was younger. Might have.”

  “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  She didn’t say anything to that, merely kept holding his hand. Every so often, she would give him a tidbit about her life. What she liked and who was married to whom. He offered up bits and pieces of himself, sharing things with her that that he’d never told another soul.

  “I didn’t leave my room for a week after my mother died. My father said I was a selfish bastard for not going to her funeral, but I couldn’t bring myself to see her casket lowered into the ground,” he said, staring out at the water.

  Seagulls cried out from overhead, searching for their next meal. He knew how they felt. Always searching for something. Always finding what didn’t satisfy.

  He sliced his gaze to Hannah. Until now.

  “My grandparents didn’t make me go to my momma’s funeral. They said I had more than enough sorrow for an adult to process, let alone a child. But I know how you feel.”

  The wind played with her hair, sending up pale curls and whipping them around. She was a picture of vibrant health with her pink cheeks and sparkling eyes.

  “You had an excuse. I’m a grown man.”

  “Grown men are allowed to feel sorrow, pain, and happiness. They’re allowed to feel. They’re also allowed to mourn in whatever way they see fit. Anyone who doesn’t think that’s okay can go talk a long walk off a short pier.” She scrunched her nose. “Bless their hearts.”

  Instead of condemning him, she defended him and his choice. It was a heady feeling to have her in his corner, especially when it came to his personal life. “Maybe I should have you start negotiating contracts instead of Blake.”

  “Who’s Blake?”

  “My partner. You’ll meet him soon enough. He’ll be in our wedding, and I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of asking my secretary to be in it as well.”

  “How big do you think our wedding is going to be?”

  “I thought you’d want a huge wedding.”

  She gave him a guilty look. “Drew, I don’t actually care about big weddings, or weddings in general. I thought you were being romantic and considerate.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “There goes my woman card,” she muttered before raising her voice. “Completely. When Fischer and I talked about marriage—it was around his fishing schedule and my work schedule. Which meant we were never getting married.”

  The thought of his Hannah with another man made him unreasonably jealous. “Fischer is a regular visitor of yours?”

  “Only to use the john,” she said cheerfully. “There’s no competition between the two of you.”

  “Then why would you—?” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m being rude.”

  “No, you’re not. We’re finding out about all the things we missed.” Letting go of his hand, she bent down and picked up two shells, handing one to him. “Fischer is a great guy—when he’s not laser-focused on fishing—and he treated me right, but if we were meant to be, then we would have married each other before now.”

  “Was this a recent decision?” All he had cared about when it came to Hannah was that she was single. But now… he worried that he’d interfered somehow and had pressured her into marrying him to save jobs. Which he had done, but… that hadn’t been what had gotten her to say yes. Though, he knew it softened her a little.

  “About three years ago. I got tired of the on again/off again thing, and just hadn’t had time to get serious with anyone else.” She flicked her shell into the water. It skipped three times before sinking. “What about you?”


  “Dated a lot, no one serious.” He flicked his shell, but it only skipped two times. Damn, she was always better than him at this. “Closest I got was to your old friend, Alexis George.”

  “Oh. Ew.”

  He laughed. “Most people would disagree with you.”

  “Most people don’t know what a witch she is… er, was.” Hannah bent down and grabbed another shell. “I’m sure she changed from when I knew her.”

  “Not really.”

  “And you still went out with her?” This time, her shell skipped over the water four times. “That’s so wrong. I expected so much better of you.”

  “She was easy—in that I didn’t have to explain my work schedule or expectations.”

  “Oh.” Her forehead wrinkled. “Will you explain them to me?”

  Drew had never explained his personal expectations to a woman. Alexis hadn’t been singular in that respect. The women he became involved with wanted to be wine, dined, and fucked. That was it.

  In the past, it had been more than enough for him. He was able to keep his distance, and they never got clingy. Except for the ones who did… and those women were gently told not to call again.

  By his secretary.

  Oh, good God. He was an unmitigated asshole. He couldn’t be an asshole to Hannah.

  “I expect for us to get to know one another,” he said.

  “And have lots of sex.”

  “You’re rather blunt, aren’t you?”

  She pointed at herself. “Weaknesses: Hot guy. In a suit. My husband. No sex in three years. You do the math.”

  “So you’re saying that you don’t need time to get to know me again?”

  “I’m saying that I’m trying to be a lady.” She bit her lip, and then burst out laughing. “Oh my gosh, Drew. You should see the look on your face.”

  The little witch. He scooped up a handful of water and threw it at her. She gasped, and then splashed him back, right in the face.

  He blinked at her while drops of water fell from his lashes and nose.

  “Oh no. Your white shirt’s getting all wet and see-through. Buttoned-up Drew won’t like that.”

  Buttoned up? He’d show her buttoned up. He lunged at her and she let out a squeal, trying to run away from him. He caught her just in time and hauled her into his arms, marching to the water.

  “Put me down, you caveman. There’s an eight-foot drop after this sandbar.”

  “If you insist.” He made to drop her in the water, but she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his skin. “On second thought, I’m hot, too.”

  He fell back into the water, on the edge of a sandbar, sinking to the bottom with Hannah in his arms. Sunlight filtered through and he watched as she smiled at him, then closed her eyes and kissed his lips. Bubbles sped toward the surface, and he kicked off from the bottom.

  They resurfaced with a gasp, and suddenly, Hannah was kissing him again. Her fingers in his hair, her legs around his waist. He kissed her back. Hungry for her taste. Hungry to feel her body against his without all these damn clothes in the way.

  They fell to the sand, mindless with passion. Hands and lips everywhere. This was madness. Foolish desire that could hurt her. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so insistent on their marriage being true in every sense of the word.

  But to be with Hannah and not touch her likes this… he now knew how impossible that was. There was no way he could live with her for five years and never touch her.

  It was laughable, really, and his own fault.

  Sweet kisses pulled him out of his head. One of those little, erotic moans left her throat, and he grew hard. Cupping a breast, he teased her nipple with his thumb.

  “Drew,” she sighed into his mouth.

  Smiling, he lowered his forehead to hers and breathed deeply. Her fingers played in his hair as waves splashed over them, sand coated their skin, and the sun was bright behind his eyelids.

  Neither of them spoke. There was no need. All he wanted to do was feel and enjoy this moment. A moment when they were Hannah and Drew. When he hadn’t married her out of necessity, but because he still harbored feelings for the girl who’d captured his heart years ago.

  What would she do with that knowledge?

  Does it matter? You’ll never tell her. You’ll never allow yourself to be that vulnerable.

  But what if he did?

  Suddenly, Hannah laughed, the sound breaking into his thoughts. “This is so unreal.”

  Opening his eyes, he watched as she threw her arms out and arched her neck. He ran his hand down the front of her shirt and then back up again to cup the back of her neck before settling himself between her thighs, uncaring if everyone saw them like this.

  “Good unreal?” he asked, his voice husky.

  “Completely.” Her gray eyes sparkled in the sun when she looked at him. “You have sand all over you. Your clothes are ruined, or they will be by the time I’m through with you.”

  “And you don’t look the least bit sorry about it.”

  “Nope. You’ve just indulged my number-one fantasy.”

  “Ruining my clothes and having sand in parts it has no business being in is your fantasy?”

  “A little.” She grinned. “Remember when you rescued me from that riptide? You walked out of the ocean, carrying me. It was the most romantic thing ever.” Her charming grin turned into a grimace. “Except when I puked.”

  “It’s permanently ingrained into my brain.” Even now, he could feel the stark terror of watching her go under and not resurface. He touched her cheek, brushing away a line of sand. “I have no idea how we didn’t drown. You fought me until I started talking to you.”

  “How did you know I was there?” she asked.

  “I followed you.” He had watched her that morning while she swam in the resort pool. That summer had been the start of something different for him.

  Her eyes went wide. “You followed me?”

  “I was worried. You went off by yourself to the north point of the beach.” Feeling a bit foolish at his confession, he rolled off her, stood, and held out his hand.

  Taking it, she joined him. The material of her shirt and shorts were plastered against her curvy, little body. The wind blew, and her nipples peaked.

  He looked away, or at least he tried to, but their impromptu rolling in the sand had only whetted his appetite for her.

  “I need a shower. Want to help wash my back?” she asked, and his gaze flew to her face.

  His heart slammed against his chest at the thought of her nude body becoming soapy, of his hands washing her. It was ridiculous if he thought about it. He wasn’t a virgin, and usually he was the one with the suggestions.

  Only this was Hannah, and he preferred for her to take the lead. For now, at least.

  “I’ll wash yours,” she said, as if she needed to sweeten the offer.

  “Absolutely.”

  Chapter Nine

  ‡

  Hannah suddenly grabbed his hand and tugged. “Let’s go.”

  They took off running for the house, Hannah laughing along the way. She turned, jogging backwards. “Wow. You’ve gotten slow.”

  Another unexpected treat. He couldn’t imagine any of his previous lovers playing with him like this. “Slow is better in some instances.”

  “This isn’t one of them.” She winked. “I would think that the offer of nude backing washing would put some fire in you. Guess I’ll have to wash the sand off all by myself.”

  Then she pivoted and took off a dead run. For a few seconds, he was impressed, but Hannah had always been athletic. How many swimming contests had they had as kids?

  With a grin, he lengthened his strides until he was almost caught up to her. Veering quickly to the right, she jumped over a row of flowers and into her backyard.

  “Unfair advantage,” he shouted, but he was impressed as hell.

  Slowing to a walk, she opened her mouth to say something, but he grabbed her and slung her over his s
houlders. She pressed on his back and managed to wiggle down into his arms.

  “Don’t you dare take us inside my house like this!”

  “I thought you wanted a shower?”

  “I do.” She began nibbling on his earlobe. “I can’t wait to get you in the shower.”

  He closed his eyes to the pleasure and tilted his head to give her better access. “Then we need to go inside.”

  “I have an outdoor shower,” she said in between kisses.

  “Where?”

  Her arm shot out, pointing away from the house and to a wooden, enclosed structure. He jogged to the outdoor shower, yanking the door open and shutting it behind them. She turned on the hot water while he worked at the buttons of her cut-off jeans.

  “Hurry, hurry, hurry,” she panted, ripping at his shirt. Buttons went flying, pinging against the wooden planks.

  Pushing her back against the wall, he kissed her neck, nibbled on her jaw, and bit the lobe of her ear. She ran her hands up and down his back, her nails sinking into his skin as hot water rained down on them.

  Baring her body to him, he cupped her breasts in his hands, dropping a kiss on each nipple before taking a hard point into his mouth.

  She cried out as he sucked her deep inside his mouth. Her fingers sank into his hair, holding him to her. As if he would go anywhere in this moment. Using his free hand, he pinched her neglected nipple.

  She moaned and writhed against him. “More, Drew. More.”

  He cupped her breasts once more and pushed them together, trying to take both nipples into his mouth at once. He was greedy for her, for the taste of her skin, for the sounds of her excitement and pleasure.

  It filled his ears, his very being. Nothing had prepared him for this. Slowing down, he eased back and took in her golden skin that had been warmed by the sun. The triangles of white on her breasts and the small strip of blond curls between her thighs was nearly his undoing.

  “So beautiful,” he said. “So damn gorgeous.”

  He spun her around, took her hands, and held them up in the air, only to press them against the wood. “Don’t move.” He kissed his way down her long back, gliding his hands down the curves of her waist. “So soft.”