Focus by Holly Bargo
Enemies to Lovers Billionaire Romance
“What just happened down there?” she finally asked.
I felt my mouth curve in a smirk. “We kissed.”
Her full lips pressed together in a thin line before she replied, “I figured that one out, thank you.”
“Then you’re as smart as Sonya says you are,” I quipped.
She made a sound and I could not quite tell if it was annoyance or humor. “No, really, Sam. I mean we’ve known each other for, what, three years? You’ve never been attracted to me. Why now?”
“I’ve always been attracted to you,” I countered. “I simply never acted upon it.”
Her eyes widened with surprise at my candor. Tilting her head, she blurted, “Why not?”
“Because you weren’t my type.”
“Your type?” Her eyes narrowed, probably imagining some bottle blonde bimbo with big hair and boobs and very little brain.
“Temporary,” I explained. My gaze ran over her lean form and subtle curves. “You’re anything but a one night stand.”
“Oh.” She swallowed. Audibly.
My words made her uneasy, maybe a little nervous. I liked it. I reached out to clasp her hand in mine. My big hand dwarfed her long elegant fingers and narrow palm, an artist’s hand. I could imagine those fingers stroking piano keys or wielding a paintbrush or expressing silent emotion in graceful dance.
“Dana, I don’t want to hurt you,” I said, knowing her incapable of casual intimacy.
Her eyes closed, then opened again, wide with shock. I saw the questions she dared not ask for fear of answers better left unvoiced.
“I respect your decision not to give yourself lightly, but I won’t deny that I want you.”
She exhaled forcefully.
“I also won’t deny that I’ve never considered marriage with any woman.”
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