The Billionaire's Proposition In Paris (Secrets of Billionaire Siblings, Book 1) by Heidi Rice

Author:Heidi Rice [Rice, Heidi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mills & Boon Modern
Published: 2021-09-30T23:00:00+00:00

Katie closed the door, caught the breath she had been holding and sunk down onto her bum, her back dragging against the door as her knees turned to water.

The city lights glittered through the huge arched windows that looked out onto a stone terrace. Moonlight lit up the palatial living area, glowing over bespoke antique furniture, luxury fabrics and expertly displayed art.

She drew in a staggered breath, catching the whiff of lemon polish, to inflate lungs constricted with shock and awe... The view of Paris from the penthouse suite was almost as breath-taking as Conall’s kiss.

Almost.

She touched one trembling finger to her chin, smarting from the sting of beard scruff. Then ran it across her mouth, her lips burning from the ferocity of his kiss.

Almost? Who was she kidding?

The view of Paris—a city she’d wanted to visit for years—was nowhere near as spectacular as Conall O’Riordan’s kiss.

He’d devoured her, as if he couldn’t get enough of her, his lips hungry, seeking, branding her and demanding her surrender. And it had lit a fire inside her body which she hadn’t even realised was there. And had made it burn.

She crossed her legs and sat dumbly, trying to get her breathing to even out, aware of everywhere her body buzzed, pulsed and throbbed.

She should get up, switch on the light, explore the suite—which was probably as magnificent as everything else about this trip—and check out the no doubt heart-stopping view from the terrace.

But she couldn’t move. Her body was like warm butter—melted, insubstantial, a puddle of sensation.

What had happened? One minute he’d been chastising her about Tom and her marriage—reminding her far too forcefully of her brother—and the next... She sighed, the guilty flush working its way up her neck.

‘Oh, Tom, I’m sorry,’ she whispered into the darkness. But Tom’s face seemed so hazy now.

Tom had never made her feel the way Conall O’Riordan just had. He’d always been a boy, never able to grow to manhood. He’d been her best friend. But had he ever really been her husband? she wondered. In any meaningful sense...?

The trickle of guilt became a flood. Not because she’d responded so readily to Conall’s kiss—his scent, his texture, his taste, all so addictive—but because she couldn’t even really remember any more what it had been like to kiss Tom.

She’d loved him so much. But she was beginning to wonder if she had ever really loved him. Like an adult. Their life together felt like a dream now—a short, tragic, far away dream—with no conflict, no disagreements but also in some ways no substance, no excitement.

Why had she really married him? Had it been because he needed her, or because she’d needed him?

She cut off the thought. Her life with Tom was over, but one thing was for certain—that part of her life had not prepared her to deal with kissing a man like Conall O’Riordan.

And not stunt kissing either. Real kissing.

She took a few moments more to get her bearings back—which took a while, as her

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