Read Borrowed Billionaire #5 Set it on Fire for Free Online Page A

and what Suzanne and Simon had been up to (the usual).
    As we were digging into the fragrant lunch, the waiter came by with two very tall, thin glasses of a sparkling drink topped by strawberries. “Compliments of Mr. Hubert,” the waiter said, nodding toward the bar.
    Luthor and I both turned, and Mr. Hubert waved back, his coat over his arm, on his way out. I must have flushed through every shade of red in the Blush Book: plum, tomato, raspberry, beet, and strawberry, too.
    I knew the handsome man with the silver hair, because a few weeks prior, I'd helped his wife with some clothing shopping and given the man a little treat in a changing room. It was with his wife's permission, as they had some sort of open thing in effect, but it was still shocking to recollect.
    Luthor was already sipping the drink. “Not bad,” he said. “At least there's no cucumber. Strange, though, that he'd be sending me drinks. I thought he'd be unhappy about the last company I bought out from underneath him.”
    “I have a confession,” I said. “I know Mr. Hubert. Not well, but I think he sent the drinks because of me.”
    “Don't tell me they had you over to one of their parties.” His lip curled up in disdain.
    “No, nothing like that.”
    “Good.” He slurped down the rest of the drink and sighed contentedly, then returned to the sandwich, eating it with his hands instead of with a fork and knife, as I had been.
    When he was done, he licked his fingers instead of using the napkin, which I found odd, but didn't comment on.
    I was still finishing my salad when he reached under the table and slipped his hand between my knees. The table was glass, with no tablecloth, and I couldn't believe he was being so bold. Getting felt up in a restaurant had not been on my sensual tourism list before, but now, suddenly, it was. I wanted him to slide that hand up to my juicy peach. But I had to resist.
    “So, the business,” I said, pulling back in my chair and away from him. “I was wondering if you'd give us some advice about franchising. Or at least expanding.”
    He leaned into the table and reached again for my knees, squeezing one.
    A few people around us were watching with interest.
    He caught my gaze and stared into me with those green-brown eyes, those deep, yearning eyes.
    Desire blossomed within me, increasing the pace of my heart and making my palms sweat and my mouth water. Forget lunch. Forget everything. I wanted him. I licked my lips and relaxed my legs, parting them.
    He closed his eyes and slid his hand up as far as it would go, mid-thigh.
    I closed my eyes and tried not to think about the people all around us. My attraction to him was too powerful; we'd never be just friends . Run, leave the restaurant , I told myself, but I couldn't get my legs to move. I wanted his hand to travel further. I wanted him on top of me, inside me, possessing me. The man was incredible at sex, and I'd noticed the very first time we were together, when I'd thought of him as a fuck machine . He'd been incredible in Indonesia, and I couldn't deny I craved him.
    His hand pulled away, and he was at my side, pulling me up from my chair, my hand in his.
    My napkin fell to the floor as we walked away. As we exited the cafe, I said, “Luthor, we didn't pay the bill. It was going to be my treat, too.”
    “I own the hotel,” he said.
    Just outside the cafe's doors, in the hallway leading to the hotel lobby, he pushed me back against the wood-paneled wall and kissed me. As I tasted his lips and tongue, he pressed his body against mine urgently. My hands slipped under his jacket and around to his back, as though we'd done this a million times.
    He pulled away from me. “Wait here. Don't move.”
    I did, and he returned a moment later, then led me to the elevators.
    Inside the elevator, he pressed the button for the top floor, and then he moved me into a corner and kissed me again, this time all over my throat and down my chest, unbuttoning my blouse as he