The Billionaire's Distraction - Excerpt
Power & Passion series
“That’s…horrible,” she gasped, her voice thick with emotion. “Would you do that to your wife?”
“I’m not married.”
The flatness of his voice made her huff a sharp laugh, rolling her eyes despite herself. “If you were married, would you do that to your wife?”
For the first time, she saw a true flicker of amusement break across his hard features. He glanced around, his eyes sweeping the playground, the street, the houses—always alert, always calculating—before settling back on her.
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he asked, his voice edged with a teasing note that startled her as much as it thrilled her.
Naomi pressed her lips together, heat rushing to her cheeks. Yes. Yes, she had. And to her own shock, she liked that he’d noticed.
For some reason, the flicker of amusement in his eyes made Naomi feel bolder—saucier, even. Her lips curved before she could stop them. “Yeah,” she replied right back, matching his tone with a spark of her own.
Her gaze dipped, trailing over the breadth of his chest, the way his black tee-shirt stretched across solid muscle, then back up to his eyes. His expression didn’t shift much, but she caught the faint narrowing of his gaze, the way his jaw flexed like he was trying not to smirk—or maybe growl.
“You might appear to be some big, scary guy,” she murmured, her voice softening into a teasing lilt. She leaned closer, close enough to catch the faint scent of clean soap and something darker, sharper, uniquely him. Her pulse leapt, but she pressed on, whispering now as her lips curved into a mischievous smile. “But I suspect that, underneath all of those muscles, you’re a marshmallow.”
For one charged second, his face didn’t move, but his nostrils flared slightly, and she swore she heard a low rumble of disapproval deep in his chest.
Naomi leaned back, deliberately casual, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from her shorts as if she hadn’t just poked a tiger. She turned away, ignoring the soft growl that slipped out of him, low and frustrated. “So you wouldn’t destroy your wife’s life if she caught you cheating. Good to know.”
“I wouldn’t cheat on my wife,” he said, his voice rougher, gruffer—each word bitten off with emphasis.
Naomi’s breath caught. There was no hesitation in his tone, no wavering, no glib deflection. Just absolute certainty. Stupid to believe him completely? Probably. But she did. Against every instinct of self-preservation, she believed him.
“I should get a bit more of the boys’ energy out before we head home,” she said finally, turning away from him, needing just a moment’s reprieve from his intensity. The air between them felt warmer, heavier, charged. She needed space to breathe. “Whatever you said to the boys, thank you. They’ve been little gentlemen for the past thirty minutes.” She grinned, her relief genuine. “That’s unprecedented.”
“Good. If they give you any other trouble, let me know.”
She stared at him, unaware of her nose squinching up in confusion. “Uh…how?”
He’d already begun to turn away, but at her question, he stopped mid-step. Slowly, he pivoted back, his dark eyes settling on her with the kind of weight that made her knees weak. “How…what?”
“How do I get in touch with you?” she clarified, suddenly wishing she could take the words back.
He studied her for a beat longer than necessary, his expression unreadable. Then he lifted a hand and pointed toward the house directly across the street from the park. “Just knock on the door.”
No goodbye, no further explanation. He simply turned and walked away, his stride long, powerful, leaving the faint scent of soap and masculinity in his wake.
