The Perfect Gift: A Christmas Billionaire Sexy Romance (Three Wise Men Book 1) (8 page)

Startled at the speed of his arousal, he lifted his head. His breaths came quickly and, to his surprise, she was breathing fast too. Her eyes fluttered open, and she swallowed, moistened her lips, and said, “Wow.”

Erin’s heart thundered like a set of tracks with the approach of a train. To her relief, Brock appeared to be similarly affected, his pupils dilated and his chest heaving with fast, deep breaths.

“Yeah,” he said at her outburst. “Wow.”

They both moved back, studying each other cautiously. Erin felt an urge to giggle, but held it in, afraid he was about to tell her he felt too disloyal and he was going to have to take her home.

He didn’t though. Instead, he gave a mischievous smile. “That was nice.”

“Mmm.”
Understatement of the year,
she thought. “It didn’t make you feel bad?”

He laughed and looked out of the window, scratching the back of his neck. “No, Erin, it didn’t make me feel bad.” He turned back to face the wheel, started the engine, then gave her an exasperated, slightly apologetic look as he shifted in the seat and adjusted his jeans. “Sorry.”

This time the laughter wouldn’t be stopped. She clapped her hand over her mouth, but it burst from her in infectious giggles.

“Yeah, you can laugh,” Brock said wryly as he pulled away. “It’s unfair that men can’t hide their… feelings like women can. And put your seatbelt on.”

She clipped it in, still chuckling, feeling a burst of happiness brighter than she’d felt for years. “Thank you so much for this. Even if we were to turn around and go home now, I’ve had a wonderful time.”

He laughed and reached out to take her hand. “Well that’s a good start. Let’s try to carry that feeling through to tomorrow, eh?”

She smiled and squeezed his fingers, and he squeezed them back before releasing her hand to hold the wheel.

Looking out of the window again, she pressed the button to lower it right down so she could feel the warm summer breeze across her face, and closed her eyes.

“I can put the air con on if you want,” he reminded her.

“I prefer having the window open,” she said without opening her eyes. “Like a dog. I’d hang my tongue out if I could.” She heard him laugh and smiled, breathing in the fresh Kiwi air.

She hadn’t expected the kiss. And what a kiss it had been… It had felt as sensual and erotic as if they’d been naked in bed together. Erin shivered at the thought. For the first time, she felt that if the evening ended that way, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all…

“There it is.”

Erin opened her eyes to see a slope leading down to the exclusive Paua Cliffs hotel overlooking the glistening Pacific Ocean. She’d seen a TV feature on it once. They’d said movie stars often had their honeymoons there. She’d never been anywhere like it.

Brock was right though—if she was going through with this, she had to deal with the fact that he was loaded. Even rich guys had to date, and it wasn’t his fault that she wasn’t used to having money. He could have picked some diamond-studded bimbo to take out, but he hadn’t, he’d picked her, and he didn’t deserve to have her getting on her high horse every five minutes, acting noble and refusing to accept his generous gift. She had to move on. She’d been given a fantastic opportunity and a wonderful birthday present, and it would be rude to keep bringing up how much he’d spent.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, meaning it. The white buildings had terracotta-colored roofs that glowed warmly in the sunlight. A huge golf course lay spread out to the west, while to the east the Pacific sparkled like tinsel.

“It’s a nice place by all accounts.” Brock signaled and took the turnoff, heading down the long drive to the buildings.

“You haven’t been here before?”

“No. Never got around to it.”

For some reason that pleased her. She had no issues with him having been married before, and she was touched to be the first woman he’d come close to dating. But it was nice to know he hadn’t brought his wife here.

The road snaked alongside the golf course and up to the complex of buildings. “What a beautiful day.” Erin lowered her sunglasses against the glare of the bright December sun.

“Warmest December for five years apparently.” Brock headed the car around the looping drive to the building marked Reception, parked, and turned off the engine. “Let’s check in, and then we can head up to our rooms for a look around. Maybe after you’ve settled in, you’d like to go for a walk down to the beach?”

“That sounds lovely.” Erin got out with him, shut the door, and hesitated. “Should I get my bag now?”

“Someone will bring them up to the rooms shortly,” he advised with a smile.

Erin had never had someone carry her bags up for her before. Her cheeks warmed. “Oh.”

Brock grinned and held out a hand. “You’ll soon get used to it. Come on.”

She walked forward and took his hand, a tingle descending her spine at the feel of his warm skin on hers. “I should have dressed up a bit, sorry. I didn’t think.” Not that she looked skanky, but her white shirt and faded jeans had seen better days.

“You look gorgeous,” he said as they walked into the foyer. “But it wouldn’t matter what you wore. This is New Zealand, remember? There will be guys eating dinner tonight wearing shorts and a T-shirt, I’m telling you.”

“Oh, I have a nice dress for dinner,” she said as they crossed the elegant tiled floor to the main desk.

Brock raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Mmm.” She felt a surge of naughtiness at his sudden interest. “Quite low and revealing. I hope it doesn’t put you off your meal.”

They stopped at the desk, and for a brief moment she could see she’d completely thrown his concentration. He stared at her, then stared at the receptionist as he struggled to remember what he was doing there. “Um… Ms. Erin Bloom and Dr. Brock King checking in, please.”

“Of course sir.” The receptionist tapped in their names. “Two luxury rooms with sea views?”

“That’s right.” Brock slid his credit card across to her and took the paper to sign.

Erin tried not to let her jaw drop. Not only were they staying at Paua Cliffs but they were in luxury rooms. What did that mean? Was everything plated gold? Were there slaves waiting inside to fan her with giant palm leaves?

It wasn’t quite that luxurious, but it wasn’t far off. A young man dressed in a dark gray uniform collected their bags and took them out of the foyer and across a courtyard to a row of long, low buildings. He stopped outside one and opened it with a key, then stood back to let Erin pass.

She walked into the room, and this time couldn’t stop her jaw dropping. It was all open plan, one enormous room, easily as big as her house. The whole front wall was made from glass panels with a magnificent view of the bay. Outside the large glass sliding doors in the center, a generous deck housed a table and chairs and, in the corner, a large hot tub that would easily fit two people.

Trying not to think about climbing into bubbling water with a tall, muscular billionaire, she looked past it to the private, fenced grassy bank leading down to the hotel’s sandy beach. The Pacific Ocean beckoned invitingly, the same color as the baby-blue summer sky.

She was half aware of Brock standing in the doorway, leaning against the wall and watching her with a smile while she turned and investigated the room. To the left was a living room area with a cream suite, a TV that must have been at least fifty inches from corner to corner, and a chrome-and-glass table and chairs. The whole floor was made from rich red rimu wood, polished to a high shine. Large green ferns and simple paintings of seascapes on the walls provided an elegant touch of color. There was also a small kitchen far to the left near the table and chairs with all the modern conveniences a woman could need, should she be mad enough to want to cook her own meal and not eat out like most normal people.

To the right, a huge bed faced the view, with white and red pillows and a luxurious white duvet, and surrounded by four posts from which hung gorgeous shimmering drapes to provide privacy—not that it was needed, as nobody would be able to see in from the beach.

She’d have to take loads of photos or Caitlin would never believe her!

The porter disappeared to take Brock’s case into the room next door. Brock pushed himself off the doorjamb and walked toward her.

“Do you like it?” His smile told her he’d guessed her answer.

“It’s beautiful.” Laughter burst from her. What an understatement! Nothing in this place would be missing, chipped, or dirty like in some of the cheap motels she’d stayed in. Everything would be clean, polished, and in perfect working order. “I don’t know what to say. It’s amazing. It’s like somewhere the Queen of England would stay.”

He grinned and glanced around. “Yeah, it’s pretty fancy.” His gaze came back to her, and he tipped his head. “Too fancy?”

Erin took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to bring up the subject of money again. “It’s wonderful. I’m absolutely thrilled, Brock. Thank you.”

Pleasure lit his face. “Okay then.” A hint of relief crossed his features—he really had expected her to say she couldn’t accept it and leave. “Well, I’ll leave you to settle in for a while.” He checked his watch. “It’s just gone four. Is thirty minutes long enough for a rest? We could go for a walk for an hour or so, then come back and have a little while to get ready for dinner at seven.”

“That sounds lovely.”

“Right, see you in a bit.” He winked at her. “Don’t forget, this is your birthday treat. Help yourself to the mini bar or order room service—whatever you want. Make the most of it. But it’s a five star restaurant and seafood is their specialty so you want to make sure you’re hungry.”

“I will.” She walked up to him, placed her hands on his chest, and rose onto her tiptoes. “Thank you,” she whispered before pressing her lips to his.

His hand rose to cup her head, and the quick peck turned into a longer kiss that sent her heart racing all over again.

“Ooh,” she said when he eventually let her go.

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.” He smirked and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Erin stared after him for a while, then turned and looked at the room again. Throwing her arms in the air, she laughed and twirled in the center. It was her birthday, she was staying in a palace, and a gorgeous billionaire was in the room next door. Life didn’t get much better than this!

Thirty minutes later, Brock knocked on Erin’s door. “Ready?” he asked when she opened it.

“Have you put sun lotion on?” she said.

“No, but I have a hat.” He tugged on a baseball cap.

“That doesn’t cover your ears. Wait here.” She disappeared and then came back with a bottle of lotion in her hand. Squeezing a little onto her fingers, she smoothed it into his ears, then massaged the rest into his face.

Brock let her, tingling at the touch of her fingers as they trailed across his cheeks and down his neck, and watched with amusement as her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she scolded. “Sorry. I forgot you weren’t Ryan.”

He chuckled. “I’m not complaining.”

She kept her gaze fixed on his neck, but a smile touched her lips, and he was sure she was taking longer than was necessary to massage the cream in. She stroked across his cheekbone, around to his ear, then down to the neckline of his T-shirt.

“I’ll shave before dinner,” he said, conscious of the slight rasp of her fingers against his stubble.

She gave a distracted nod, spreading the cream around the back of his neck to cover the strip from his hairline to the edge of his T-shirt that always caught the sun. She’d changed into a pretty blue sundress, and one strap had slid off her shoulder leaving her skin uncovered from the base of her neck to her upper arm. It was hardly an intimate area, but he felt like a Victorian gentleman must have felt on seeing a lady’s ankle, turned on because the area wasn’t normally visible. That creamy brown expanse of skin bore a white strip like a bra strap, although she obviously wasn’t wearing one. Her breasts would be soft and unrestricted in his hands—he could imagine their weight in his palms, and the way her nipples would be relaxed in the warm sun, although they’d tighten if he brushed his thumbs across them.

His body responded, aroused by the thought as well as her tantalizing touch, and before he could stop himself, he moved forward, pinned her up against the doorjamb, and lowered his lips to hers. Erin laughed and returned the kiss, her fingers fanning into his hair, and they exchanged several long kisses before he finally forced himself to move back.

“Sorry,” he said. “But that’s what you get when you spread sun cream on an unsuspecting male.”

She chuckled, clearly enjoying herself, popped the bottle of lotion back inside, and came out with a small handbag. Brock held out his hand, and she lifted the long strap of the bag over her head so it could rest on her hip, and slid her hand into his.

Walking slowly, they headed across the courtyard to the signposted path to the beach. It was a gorgeous day—Brock couldn’t have planned better if he’d tried. As they turned the corner and took the path over the grassed area toward the sand, his heart lifted at the sight of the Pacific spread before them like a sparkling blue blanket. The light summer breeze that lifted the strands of Erin’s hair around her face teased the ocean into tiny waves that ran up the beach. It took the edge off the heat, but he knew they’d have to be careful not to burn in spite of the lotion she’d applied.

The path led down a series of sand-covered steps, and then they were on the beach. Brock toed off his Converses and Erin slipped off her sandals, and they carried them as they walked along the waterline, the sea warm in the shallows, refreshing to his feet.

Erin held his hand again, and Brock closed his fingers around hers while she started talking about the time she’d been to the Mediterranean, and how it was fairly similar to the Bay of Islands, although with a lot less people.

He was surprised at how much he was enjoying just touching another person again. Sometimes it felt as if Fleur had only died yesterday—at other times he felt as if he’d been alone for millennia. He’d started to wonder if he’d forgotten how to communicate with a partner.

Being on his own had more disadvantages than advantages, but there was no doubt that after time, even though sometimes he hated his lonely, cold apartment, he had grown used to being the only one there. When alone, he only had to concentrate on himself, and he was conscious he’d become selfish. Relationships were often about compromise, he thought, looking down at where the clear water covered his toes. People watched TV programs they wouldn’t normally watch because their partner liked them. Wore the clothes their partner liked because they wanted to look nice for them. Ate the food their partner preferred and saw people their partner liked. It’s what people did to keep a marriage happy, and while Fleur was alive he’d had no issues with it, but he’d come to like having to please nobody but himself over the past two years.

Part of him had wondered whether, if he started to date again, he’d feel irritable and resentful for having to think about someone else, but for now he felt nothing but pleasure at the notion of spending the day with the woman by his side.

“Penny for them,” she said, causing him to look at her in surprise. She wore dark sunglasses that hid her eyes, but she was smiling, suggesting he’d been lost in thought for a while.

“Sorry. I was just thinking how much fun this is.”

Her smile spread. “I know what you mean. It’s nice to just… be, isn’t it?”

He nodded. She was right. Maybe it was because they were older, or perhaps because they’d talked for a long time online before they’d met in the flesh, but he didn’t feel any need to impress her or force the conversation.

“You’re very easy to be with,” she said, confirming his thoughts.

“You don’t feel nervous anymore then?” he teased.

She laughed and swirled her feet in the water. “No. I feel better after our talk in the car. I hope I didn’t come across as rude because I was hesitant about accepting your gift. I understand your family has always had money?”

“Yes, my parents are wealthy.”

“Not having money, it’s a bit difficult to understand the motive behind giving it away. My parents manage, but they’re hardly well off. When I started work, I was well paid for a while, but then I met Jack and got pregnant, and since then it’s been hard. Every penny I have goes towards clothes and toys for Ryan, and saving for birthdays and Christmas. There’s rarely any left for treats. I can’t imagine having so much money that you don’t notice if you give it away. Every cent is precious, and giving it to someone carries meaning. Does that make sense? I’m not explaining myself very well.”

“Yes it does. I do understand. You don’t want to feel beholden. But that’s the thing about a gift—it doesn’t require something in return. I mean it, Erin. If we have a lovely dinner tonight, share a bottle of wine and a glass of Lagavulin, maybe have a walk in the moonlight, I’ll have considered it money well spent. Although I arranged it because it’s your birthday, I also wanted to spend time with you, don’t forget. Like I said, I don’t have a day off very often. This is a treat for me too! A day without the phone constantly ringing, without having to worry about anyone but myself and a pretty girl. It doesn’t come much better than that.”

Erin blushed and looked up at him with a shy smile. “You think I’m pretty?”

“I think you’re stunning. And as it’s your birthday, I’m very happy to tell you at least once an hour.”

She stopped walking, and Brock stopped too and turned to her, surprised.

“You’re very sweet,” she said. Still holding his hand, she moved closer to him.

“Don’t think I’ve ever been called that before.”

In typical New Zealand fashion, the beach was empty save for a couple walking right at the other end. Brock felt like a teenager, his stomach fluttering with a mixture of excitement and nerves at this innocent, gentle exploration of each other, and at the promise of a pleasant evening and night to come, whatever it held in store.

“Thank you,” Erin said, lifting a hand to cup his cheek. “For being so kind, and for being prepared to take this slowly.”

He inhaled at her touch, a shiver descending his spine. “I’m just thrilled you chose to come at all.”

“It means a lot to me. Jack hurt me badly, and honestly there was one point where I didn’t think I’d ever date anyone again.”

He leaned his cheek into her palm, letting a smile curve his lips. “I’m glad you changed your mind.”

“
You
changed my mind,” she corrected. “You make me feel alive again.”

His eyebrows rose, as they were the exact words he could have said to her. But before he could say as much, she lifted up to press her lips against his, and everything fled his mind.

This time, she lifted her arms around his neck and leaned into the kiss. Brock rested his hands on her hips, then slid his arms around her and tightened them, enjoying the feel of her soft body against his. She murmured her approval, a low purr deep in her throat, and the sexy growl fired him up, pushing him to take it to the next level.

Opening his mouth, he touched his tongue tentatively to her bottom lip. Erin inhaled, her lips parting, and he lifted his head. Their eyes met, and for a brief moment he felt as if they were teetering on the edge of something. If she moved back, she’d be saying this was just a friendship for now. If she didn’t…

He held his breath, conscious of the crash of the waves, the cry of seagulls overhead, the smell and taste of the ocean. Behind Erin, on the edge of his vision, the blue sky was framed by a magnificent array of pohutukawa trees, their bright red flowers bringing a Christmassy, magical feel to the moment.

Her breasts were soft where they pressed against his chest, her body warm through her thin dress. Brock felt as if it was already Christmas Eve, the air sparkling with anticipation and hope.
Stay
, he thought, hoping his desperation didn’t show in his face.
Please don’t move away.

To his relief, her lips curved up. Exultant happiness washed over him, warm and refreshing as the water on his feet, and he lowered his head and kissed her again.

Erin opened her mouth to him, and he touched his tongue to hers, then slid it into her mouth, the sensation so incredibly intimate to his sex-starved body that it flooded him with heat. Crushing her to him, he deepened the kiss and let his passion flow, his internal thermostat continuing to rise when she returned the thrust of his tongue with one of her own and pressed her hips to his.

He moved his hands down her back, enjoying the womanly curve of her waist and the flare of her hips, then tightened his fingers on her bottom and held her to him, pressing his now obvious erection against her mound. Erin gave an unmistakable rock of her hips, pushing against him, and suddenly the sensation of being innocent teenagers on their first date vanished. A very mature, passionate heat burst into flame between them, and it left Brock gasping, his body tight with desire, aching for release.

Lifting his head, he released his grip on her, and she moved back, straightening her dress with self-conscious hands as she glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone had seen them.

“Don’t worry. There’s nobody else on the beach,” he said. The couple at the other end had disappeared, leaving the stretch of pale gold sand empty.

“Is it me or has it just got incredibly hot?” She fanned her face.

He smiled and held out his hand. “Happy birthday.”

She slid hers into his and grinned. “Thank you. That gift was even better than the hotel room.”

Laughing, they continued along the sand. Brock squeezed her fingers, pleased to see her face alight with a happy glow. That was all he wanted for her—to relieve the pressure of motherhood for a day, to make her feel beautiful for a while.

Yeah, right
, the little devil on his shoulder whispered in his ear. Kissing her had nothing to do with the fact that he wanted to see her naked. That he wanted to strip the sundress from her and cover her breasts with his hands. That he wanted to slide inside her, and find his own pleasure in her soft body.

He closed his eyes momentarily against the brilliant sun, unable to argue, and mentally gave the finger to the grinning devil.