Undisclosed Desire: An Alpha Billionaire Romance: + bonus novel Read Free Page B
Author: Linnea May
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drastically. My mouth is half-open and I am panting. Why is he saying these things? Is he trying to win some kind of bet? Pick up a trashy hipster girl at an underground club, just to show his buddies that he can do it?
"I'm sorry," he says. "You don't seem to be used to hearing these kinds of things."
Again, I don't reply anything.
"They're true," he adds. "But still, it's not what I was talking about when I called you beautiful. Not at all."
"No?" I finally ask. My voice is low and hoarse. I have to clear my throat before I dare to continue speaking. "What did you mean then?"
Instead of giving me an answer, he just looks at me. Observing. His eyes are fixed on mine, but flickering, searching for something as if he has a question he doesn't dare to ask.
"You're cold," he notices.
I am about to protest, but now that he mentions it, I notice how much I have been shivering. The heat from the club has left my body and the sweat has dried. I am freezing, actually.
"Um, a little," I admit.
"Would you allow me to invite you to a warm place where we could have a drink?" he asks. "And continue our conversation."
"A warm place?" I ask, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.
"A bar," he says. "I'm sure you know that there's one right across the street? A shisha bar. It's nice and quiet there – and warm."
I glance over to the door of the club, unsure what to do. He’s too full of himself – and I don't trust his compliments. And I have to wonder why he is still talking to me, even though I have been anything but charming.
"I wouldn't mind going back there," he says, noticing my look. "It's a cool place – but too loud to talk. And I would like to talk to you."
I look up at him. "Why?"
"I told you," he replies. "There's something about you that appeals to me."
I sigh. "Is this some kind of joke? Are you trying to win a game or something?"
Now he frowns at me.
"Why are you so suspicious?" he wants to know. "Has no one ever paid you a compliment before? That can't be it. Or are you mad, because I am keeping you from dancing?"
"I... I don't –"
"Look," he says, now sounding impatient. "I don't want to mess with you or ruin your evening. Let's make a deal. I'll go over to the bar and order myself a shisha and a drink. I've had enough dancing for tonight. I don't want to cut yours short, though. You go, dance as long as you wish until you feel you've had enough as well. And if you're feeling like having a little nightcap before going home – you'll know where to find me."
He distances himself from the wall and straightens up, looking down on me with a stern but friendly face. "I won't wait forever, though."
And then he turns around and walks away, crossing the street and heading for the bar.
I know the place well. I have been there a few times before.
But – what the hell? Is he really that confident that I will follow him? He didn't even give me his name or his phone number. I could just go back downstairs and dance until my head falls off before I tumble home and never see him again. I could just do that.
And I might.
My eyes follow him as he walks away. He doesn't turn around once. His confidence annoys me.
I shake my head and turn around, heading for the club's entrance to go back downstairs. And dance. Just as I had planned to when I first got here.
The club is a lot emptier than it was just a short while before. It is not even that late, but people are leaving left and right. Great, more room for me.
The song that is on is not especially great or catchy, but I start dancing to it anyways. I try to, that is. My mind is elsewhere, even though I try to fight it. I cannot get him out of my head.
What kind of weird game is he playing with me? And why does it work so well?
It scares me, actually. Because I feel like this is not up to me. As if someone put a spell on me, causing me to notice him in the first place, to be drawn to him even though he appears to stand for everything I despise.
And why did he come
"I'm sorry," he says. "You don't seem to be used to hearing these kinds of things."
Again, I don't reply anything.
"They're true," he adds. "But still, it's not what I was talking about when I called you beautiful. Not at all."
"No?" I finally ask. My voice is low and hoarse. I have to clear my throat before I dare to continue speaking. "What did you mean then?"
Instead of giving me an answer, he just looks at me. Observing. His eyes are fixed on mine, but flickering, searching for something as if he has a question he doesn't dare to ask.
"You're cold," he notices.
I am about to protest, but now that he mentions it, I notice how much I have been shivering. The heat from the club has left my body and the sweat has dried. I am freezing, actually.
"Um, a little," I admit.
"Would you allow me to invite you to a warm place where we could have a drink?" he asks. "And continue our conversation."
"A warm place?" I ask, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.
"A bar," he says. "I'm sure you know that there's one right across the street? A shisha bar. It's nice and quiet there – and warm."
I glance over to the door of the club, unsure what to do. He’s too full of himself – and I don't trust his compliments. And I have to wonder why he is still talking to me, even though I have been anything but charming.
"I wouldn't mind going back there," he says, noticing my look. "It's a cool place – but too loud to talk. And I would like to talk to you."
I look up at him. "Why?"
"I told you," he replies. "There's something about you that appeals to me."
I sigh. "Is this some kind of joke? Are you trying to win a game or something?"
Now he frowns at me.
"Why are you so suspicious?" he wants to know. "Has no one ever paid you a compliment before? That can't be it. Or are you mad, because I am keeping you from dancing?"
"I... I don't –"
"Look," he says, now sounding impatient. "I don't want to mess with you or ruin your evening. Let's make a deal. I'll go over to the bar and order myself a shisha and a drink. I've had enough dancing for tonight. I don't want to cut yours short, though. You go, dance as long as you wish until you feel you've had enough as well. And if you're feeling like having a little nightcap before going home – you'll know where to find me."
He distances himself from the wall and straightens up, looking down on me with a stern but friendly face. "I won't wait forever, though."
And then he turns around and walks away, crossing the street and heading for the bar.
I know the place well. I have been there a few times before.
But – what the hell? Is he really that confident that I will follow him? He didn't even give me his name or his phone number. I could just go back downstairs and dance until my head falls off before I tumble home and never see him again. I could just do that.
And I might.
My eyes follow him as he walks away. He doesn't turn around once. His confidence annoys me.
I shake my head and turn around, heading for the club's entrance to go back downstairs. And dance. Just as I had planned to when I first got here.
The club is a lot emptier than it was just a short while before. It is not even that late, but people are leaving left and right. Great, more room for me.
The song that is on is not especially great or catchy, but I start dancing to it anyways. I try to, that is. My mind is elsewhere, even though I try to fight it. I cannot get him out of my head.
What kind of weird game is he playing with me? And why does it work so well?
It scares me, actually. Because I feel like this is not up to me. As if someone put a spell on me, causing me to notice him in the first place, to be drawn to him even though he appears to stand for everything I despise.
And why did he come