The Billionaire Bargain #2



We hadn’t gotten more than ten feet when my heels started to sink into the lush dirt.“Damn, Grant, I’m sorry. I didn’t bring my practical shoes. You’ll have to show me another time.”

“Nonsense,”he said with a glint in his eye.“We just need…alternate transportation.”

He set down our drinks, grabbed my hand, and pulled me over to a golf cart that looked like it had been chained to its post since the Nixon administration. Before I could ask if he had the key, he was picking the lock.“Man of many talents, huh?”

“You wouldn’t believe how many handcuffs I’ve had to pick myself out of.”

Oh, I’d believe it, I thought. I’m just going to concertedly avoid thinking about it before my panties combust.

The lock yielded in seconds—I was willing to bet this was not the first time Grant had gone joyriding in this golf cart with a young lady either—and my butt had barely touched the seat before he zoomed off, revving of the engine. Grant threw back his head with a hearty laugh, and I squealed. There was a stir on the patio nearby.

“Shh,”Grant whispered,“they’ll catch us!”

“You’re leaving tracks an inch deep in the mud!”I hissed back, giggling as we dove between pines and looped around the edge of a field.“It’s not going to take Tonto to find us “Better get mysterious, then!”

And before I could ask a single question, he drove straight into the stream, splashing water all over us. I shrieked at the cold and then I couldn’t stop laughing at the way the wave had plastered Grant’s perfect hair back. He drove on down the stream, oblivious to the ridiculous swoop his hair was doing, and probably also oblivious to the way the water plastered his shirt to his chest, highlighting his muscles.

“I used to do this all the time when I was a kid!” he said, not bothering to whisper anymore.

“I hope you’ve brushed up on your skills at least once since then!” I said.

“Nah, but I still think I can take that hill!” And he gunned the engine.

“You’re crazy!”

“Is that a dare?”

I shrieked again as the golf cart went flying up and over the hill, catching several feet of air before thudding back to earth. Grant caught me just seconds before I would have tumbled out of the side, my heart going a mile a minute and not slowing down as he took me in my arms. I couldn’t stop laughing; I’d never felt so exhilarated.

“That was—amazing!” I gasped and gave him a high five. He was laughing like crazy too, and pulled a long-necked bottle out from under the seat.

“Our best private vintage label,” he said, popping the cork and handing it to me.

There were no glasses, so I chugged it like a beer, the rich red wine going down smooth and sweet, before tossing it to him. He caught it and poured some down his own throat before shaking his head in wonder.

“And they say Aussie girls know how to party!”

“So the honor of my country’s at stake?”I said. The wine and the adrenaline and the proximity to Grant were all making my blood sing, making me feel unconquerable.“Move aside, bitch, and let me show you how we drunk-drive a golf cart in the land of the free and the home of the brave.”

He acceded, and the engine purred under my ministrations, a lot more powerful than a golf cart should be:“Did you make some modifications to this?”

Grant flashed his teeth; half grin and half dare.“No point in owning something that can’t go fast.”

“Truer words…”I murmured.“Let’s see how many horses you snuck under this hood!”

Unfortunately, I wasn’t prepared for precisely how many horses, and I was also unfamiliar with the terrain. A patch of mud causes us to skid, and I just managed to swerve out of the way of a large boulder before we had to bail if we were going to be skewered by a tree.

“Who put that tree there?” I giggled, dragging myself up on the bank of the stream, muddy and grass-stained.

“My grandfather,”Grant said, coming to my side equally disheveled. Ooh, that ruffled hair…

“Sorry about the golf cart,” I said.

“It’s nothing,”Grant said distractedly, fishing about in his pockets. Whatever he was worried about, he must have found, because he stopped fishing and grinning, raising the wine bottle with his other hand.“Look what I found!”

“My hero,”I said, collapsing backwards onto the grass, mouth open.“Save me, good sir, and slake my thirst.”

“Ay, milady,”he said, pouring a good quantity of rich warm wine into my waiting mouth before collapsing beside me.“If thou couldst rescue thy knight…”

“Verily,”I said, but my giggling—I swear, I was giggling more on this night than in my entire previous life combined—made my hand shake, and the drink splashed over Grant’s lips, a few drops pooling in the hollow of his throat.

Well, waste not, want not.

I lowered my mouth to his throat and lapped at the wine, kissing its sweetness from his skin.