The Billionaire and I (Part One) Read Online Free Page A

listening. His scowl made me duck my chin to my chest and mumble a halfhearted 'sorry'.
    “While your little display this morning was endearing and sexy a s fuc k ...” He trailed off, emphasizing the 'f' word and a shiver of desire fluttered through me.
    For a moment or three, I was back in the dressing room, ass in the air, taking the punishment I so ripely deserved. From the way his eyes turned into blue flame, I knew he was recalling our romp too. He peeled off his jacket, showing that sexy white shirt. Who knew a button down shirt could be as sexy as not wearing anything at all? When he settled back on me and the matter at hand, I saw that he was solidly out of xxx territory and back in ‘Leila's just a overly dramatic crazy person’ territory.
    “I made it clear that secrets were toxic. And that there could be no more between us,” he continued tersely. “Do you really think I'd make that point and harbor some colossal secret like Rachel Laraby showing up tonight?”
    I opened my mouth to retort. To defend myself. But it was indefensible. Shame flooded my face and I couldn't look at him and see myself reflected back. The harsh tone. The snarl. The eyes that held so much hurt because I'd thought he kept this from me.
    I tugged my hair with a groan, needing to get the negative energy out somehow. Gather my wits about me so I could explain myself. When I stole a look at him, I knew that whatever anger that I saw was deserved. But there was no anger, just a pained frustration. That was ten times worse.
    “It's me and you, Leila,” he said softly, reaching for my hand. He didn't hold it, instead, he traced the outline of my fingers. “You must know that. And as for Rachel, well, I informed her that I had no interest in having anything to do with her and all correspondence since has gone to Natasha.”
    I balled my fists in my lap. A worthy target for my anger. I had a feeling that Natasha not only had a head's up about our surprise guest, but also arranged for her to be seated at our table. I could picture Natasha at home with a bowl of popcorn, waiting for the fireworks when Rachel busted back onto the scene.
    “I know that look, Leila. And trust me, words will be had with Natasha Monday morning.” His tone hardened along with his glare. “She's a walking, living, breathing TMZ that lives off of gossip and drama. That's who she is. What's your excuse? How can you explain the look you've been giving me since Rachel sat her ass in my seat and ruined our evening? Please tell me how my wife, my partner, could think that after everything we've been through I'd slide back into the cesspool that is Rachel Laraby?”
    I knew he wasn't really expecting an answer or an explanation. He wanted an apology. I wasn't too proud to give him one.
    I scooted a little closer, wanting to reach out and touch him. Not the gentle, minefield navigating stroking he was sparingly doing, but a full on hug, kiss, or something. Something filled with passion so he could feel just how sorry I was. He was completely right. Part of me being so floored and blindsided was because it didn't add up. The Jacob who kept this from me? That wasn't the Jacob I married. That wasn't the Jacob that came back from Europe, committed to us. He'd even casually mentioned that certain things in our apartment would have to be remodeled because they weren't baby friendly. A man who was thinking about baby proofing didn't sync up with a man who would keep a woman that devoted herself to breaking us up a secret from me.
    “Jacob, I'm so sorry.” I covered his hand. Squeezed.
    He lifted my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss on my knuckles. “Not yet, love. But you will be.”
    I thought he'd rolled up the partition because he was about to chew me out and didn't want the driver to get an uninhibited front row seat to our conversation. I heard it in his voice and even though the kiss was brief, it sizzled in his touch. Today was quickly becoming Discipline Day and my