Read The Billionaire's Embrace (The Silver Cross Club) for Free Online

It was a bitterly cold day, clear and bright, and the wind kept blowing my hair into my face.
    The museum was a huge, imposing building, and as I waited to cross the street, I scanned the steps for Carter. There weren’t many people out, as cold as it was, and I found him easily, standing on the top step in his familiar overcoat, a scarf wrapped around his neck.
    I realized I was smiling, and ducked my head to hide my no doubt foolish grin. I was doing that a lot lately, smiling like an idiot every time I saw him or got a text message from him or even thought about him.
    The traffic light changed, and I crossed the street and began climbing the steps. I knew the exact moment he saw me, because a smile broke across his face, and he lifted one hand in greeting.
    I barely felt the steps under my feet as I climbed. It was like I was being tugged along by a rope, lifted up into the air. My body wasn’t doing any work; my knees weren’t bending. I was gliding.
    I mounted the final step. Carter slid one arm around my waist, holding me close, and bent his head to kiss me. “Your poor face,” he said.
    I lifted one hand to touch my cheek. “What’s wrong with it?”
    “Pink,” he said. “You must be freezing. I shouldn’t have let you take the subway.”
    “I like being outside,” I said, which was true. I liked walking and looking in shop windows and watching the people who passed me on the sidewalk.
    “Well, let’s go inside where it’s warm,” he said. “We’ll get a map, and you can decide what you’d like to see.”
    We went into the atrium of the museum, which was enormous, and crowded full of people, even on a weekday afternoon. I’d forgotten about the usual Christmastime swarms of tourists. Carter confidently sailed across the room, and I actually held onto the back of his coat like a small child so that I wouldn’t be left behind.
    There was a long line to buy tickets, but Carter went right past it and up to the desk that said Museum Members. He fished a card out of his wallet and handed it to the girl behind the counter, who took a glance at it and chirped, “Welcome back, Mr. Sutton!” I could tell from the way she tossed her hair over her shoulder and smiled at him that she knew exactly who he was.
    I glanced over at all the people waiting in the regular line. That’s where I would have been, ordinarily. None of them looked upset or impatient; they were all just waiting for their turn.
    But all doors opened for Carter.
    “Are you ready?” he asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. I smiled at him and took the arm he offered to me, crooked at the elbow like he was an old-fashioned gentleman. He handed me a map and said, “First, I think, the Temple of Dendur. We can sit down there and plan where you’d like to go next.”
    He guided me through the crowded atrium toward a sign that said Egyptian Art. “I hope you don’t mind the crowds too much,” he said. “Christmas in New York.”
    “No, it’s fine,” I said. “I’m not agoraphobic.”
    He laughed. “I’ve never heard anyone use that word in casual conversation.”
    I blushed and looked down at my feet. I didn’t want him to think I was showing off. Sometimes I spoke before I thought, was all. Most of the time, actually. I just opened my mouth and words fell out. I decided to change the subject. I said, “You must come here a lot, if you’re a member.”
    “Sutton Industries is a corporate sponsor,” he said. “I come a few times a year for events. But it’s been a long time since I came here just to look at the art.”
    Corporate sponsorship sounded fancy and expensive. “So you really care about art, I guess?”
    He shrugged. “Supporting the museum is a worthy cause, and it makes the company look good. And my mother’s been on the board for years, so it makes her happy, which makes her less inclined to call me and complain about my other life decisions.” He grinned. “Also, I really like the rooftop cafe.”
    We