Running From the Billionaire

“So you’re actually going back to New York?” Ingrid asked as she watched me fold last night’s clothes and place them in my suitcase.

I laughed. “After a kiss like that, I don’t think I have a choice.” I zipped my suitcase shut.

Ingrid came over to me and hugged me tightly, catching me off guard, but I immediately hugged her back.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” I said.

She smiled. “It’s all right. I know you were scared. You’ve never felt like this before, and it can be intense. I just want to see you happy, and I think you could be with your boss.”

“I don’t know, Ingrid. He excites me and terrifies me at the same time. I don’t know if I can be happy with a man like him.”

“Psh, you just don’t know him yet,” she said. “From what I saw after he kissed you, I know for sure that you want him to make you happy, in every sense of the word.” She wiggled her eyebrows at me.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the nearest pillow, smirking as I held it up.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said.

I threw the pillow, hitting her square in the face.

Her mouth dropped in shock. I couldn’t contain my laughter any longer and doubled over with the force of my laughs.

Ingrid picked up the pillow from the floor. “Oh, it’s on,” she said with a wicked smirk. She charged at me, causing me to yelp and run out of the room, laughing all the way.

After our pillow fight, Ingrid and I spent the rest of the day watching movies and eating junk food. Our conversation kept returning to Mr. Benson. I don’t know if it was my fault or Ingrid’s, but we speculated on what he liked, disliked, enjoyed, detested.

In that moment, I realized that I didn’t know him at all. Though that didn’t stop Ingrid from imagining our wedding, honeymoon, and even future children! But as we talked, I actually grew to like the idea of Mr. Benson and I together. I wondered if I should start calling him Theodore, even if only in my head.

***

The ringing of the doorbell had me shaking in anticipation.

Ingrid opened the door, and there he was. As usual, he was dressed impeccably—dark gray suit, white dress shirt, shoes shined so you could see your reflection, and hair styled with a crisp side part.

I stuffed my mouth full of cereal in order to avoid talking to him. But that didn’t mean he didn’t talk to me.

“Good morning, Hailey,” he said with a warm smile, causing my sleepy heart to flutter awake.

He saw my cereal filled mouth and his smile turned into a full-on grin, causing my heart to race. Stop reacting like this, you stupid organ!

“Uh, I’m going to go and freshen up. I’ll see you guys in a few minutes,” Ingrid said as she turned toward her bedroom, leaving me and my poor heart with Mr. Benson. Theodore? Mr. Benson? Ugh, I need to figure this out!

I did my best to ignore him, but it was next to impossible. It was like every cell in my body came alive by his presence in the room.

He walked toward me until he was standing right behind me. My heart buzzed with excitement at having him so close. It took everything I had to stay seated when I desperately wanted to stand and hug him tightly.

Two strong hands rested on my shoulders, their grip warm and firm. The feeling of Mr. Benson’s hands on my shoulders—hell, on any part of my body—had me forgetting everything but his touch. I desperately wished that I had some power to fight him, but I had none.

The brush of lips on my cheek had me jumping in surprise. “Calm down, Hailey,” he whispered to my skin. His lips moved to my neck, planting butterfly kisses down my neck and toward my collarbone.

Everything in me was begging me to close my eyes and let him take over. To succumb to his expert touch and mind-blowing kisses. To let his arms encase all of me—my body, heart, mind, and soul.

His hands moved down my shoulders, and my rational side kicked in just in time. I got up from my seat, removing myself from his caressing touch. He stumbled back in surprise, a questioning look on his face.

“We need to have a conversation before this continues. Is that understood, Mr. Benson?” I said in a calm voice, even though I felt anything but calm.

He stepped forward, reaching his hand toward mine. Before I could think to move away, his hand was on my wrist and he gave it a tug, pulling me into his arms.

“We will have that conversation, Ms. Pritchett, you can count on that. But in the meantime, I don’t plan on waiting to touch you. Is that understood?” he replied in an equally calm tone, turning my knees to jelly.

I stared at him in response, not finding words to counter his statement. Yes, we needed to have a conversation. But his hands on my body felt too good.

He stared right back at me, not blinking nor flinching. I got lost in his eyes, the gray turning into swirling storm clouds that matched the rumbling under my skin.

The sound of a throat clearing broke our trance.

I turned and saw Ingrid trying her best not to grin at me. I realized how it might look, me wrapped in Mr. Benson’s arms, and I jumped back, causing his arms to loosen and release me. I exhaled a deep sigh of relief, which didn’t go unnoticed by either of them.

“I just came to remind you that your flight will be leaving soon,” Ingrid said to the both of us.

Mr. Benson strode over to her and offered her his hand to shake, which Ingrid immediately took. “Thanks for reminding us,” he said. He turned to face me. “Ms. Pritchett has a knack for making me forget things.” I could feel the blush rising to my cheeks.

“I just need to grab my things,” I said.

“No need,” he replied. “My driver already took care of that for you.” He placed his hand on my lower back, guiding me toward the door.

The same black Range Rover from the day before was sitting in the driveway. The driver got out and opened the back door. I felt weird, and slightly uncomfortable, at him opening the door for me. I wasn’t used to people doing that for me.

Mr. Benson slid in and immediately started talking to someone on his phone. I quietly slipped in behind him, not knowing what would happen next.