70 DAYS WITH THE WRONG BILLIONAIRE

HOW DARE SHE?

NOAH POV

I had not felt this off-balance in years.

I had powered through every meeting in Italy at double speed, cutting deals short and pushing my team to wrap things up faster than usual. All so I could get back sooner.

Being away from Aria for those two days sat badly with me, even though I had only just met her again.

Worse, the little woman hadn't reached out once in the few days I was gone.

No call. No messages.

Very Aggravating.

“Have she settled in?” I asked Falcon the moment the jet’s wheels touched the tarmac.

Instead of heading to the office like I normally would, I told the driver to take us straight to the mansion.

“Yes, sir. Matteo mentioned Miss Aria was a little… upset earlier.”

A low chuckle escaped me. Little.

My firecracker had probably been ready to explode, cheeks flushed red, eyes blazing.

I almost wished I had been there to see it.

She looked damn cute when furious, it was why I used to push her buttons just watching her lose that pristine, classy composure was my favorite pastime.

The car pulled up the sweeping driveway of the estate. I didn't wait for the guard to reach the door; I threw it open myself and strode into the grand foyer.

Mira appeared from the kitchen corridor, her smile was warm, but it dimmed the moment she saw my face.

"Where is she?" I demanded, my eyes sweeping the empty expanse of the salon.

Mira didn't need to ask who 'she' was.

She smoothed her apron, her eyes darting nervously toward the upper levels. "She is in the guest suite right beside the master bedroom, sir."

“Who put her there?” I was already moving toward the elevator. I hadn’t used the damn thing in years, but the stairs felt too slow right now.

The pull in my chest wouldn’t wait. f**k.

Mira hurried after me, her footsteps quick on the marble. “I didn’t think… I assumed you would want her close enough to—”

“I want her things moved into my room tomorrow.” I cut her off as the elevator doors opened.

There was a brief pause. “…Yes, sir.”

I caught the flicker of surprise on her face before the doors slid shut.

Mira had worked for my family long enough to know I never shared my space. The order told her more than words ever could.

Aria was not meant to be tucked away in some spare room like a guest.

She was not a guest.

She was mine.

☆~☆

I pushed open the door to the suite slowly, braced for the storm I expected from her.

I wanted to see her face when she saw me. I wanted that little flare of annoyance. I wanted the look she got right before she decided to challenge me.

But the firecracker I expected was not waiting for me.

Aria was asleep.

She lay awkwardly across the large bed, her laptop still open beside her, head tilted at an uncomfortable angle near the edge. One arm rested under her cheek.

Her cream camisole had slipped, one thin strap fallen off her shoulder, exposing the upper curve of her breast.

Pale, soft skin in the low lamplight.

My throat went dry. Heat surged through me, thick and immediate, as my c**k hardened against the front of my slacks.

Fuck.

I stood there for a moment, jaw tight, just looking.

I had stood in front of beautiful women before. I had had women lean into me, beg me, try to pull my attention to them by doing crazy stuff like coming to me naked.

None of them had ever f*****g managed to make me lose my control as easy as Aria.

None was capable to make my body react from something as simple as a half-open neckline and a strip of skin in soft lamplight.

Aria did not even have to speak.

Sometimes all she needed was one look. Those brown eyes of hers, warm one second and dark the next, could make me lose control.

I crossed the room quietly and sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to wake her yet.

Up close she was devastating. Thick lashes fanned across her cheeks, her full pink lips parted slightly just enough to make my jaw tighten

My little princess.

Aria had always been a princess.

Even now, exhausted, she looked untouchable.

Innocent in a way that made my blood f*****g burn hotter.

She carried that same spoiled, delicate air that made me want to ravage her. Ruin her. Mark her.

I wanted to peel that thin fabric down, bare the rest of her, and claim what was mine right here.

I wanted to hear her whisper, moan, and scream my name loudly the way she had four years ago.

The memory of her body arching under mine, her p***y tight and wet and perfect for my c**k, how are nails dug into my back like she couldn’t get close enough.

Four years ago, I had learned exactly how much that mouth could give.

And exactly how much it could make a man want to lose his mind.

Kissing her again at the hospital had just made me more aching. Hearing her moan and scream my name as she shattered on my fingers made me so f*****g hard that I almost took her right there but stopped myself by sheer willpower.

A few curls of hair had fallen across her face. I reached out and tucked them behind her ear.

The strands felt like silk. Warm and baby-soft. I couldn’t pull my hand away.

My fingers lingered, stroking slowly through the rest of her hair.

How dare she deny me after that? How dare she vanish for years and leave me with nothing but a half-finished memory and an insatiable craving I had never asked for?

How dare she come back and look at me like I was the one who should be patient?

A sharp, ugly jealousy climbed into my chest.

Who else had seen her like this? Who had touched what was mine? Who had had the right to look at her body, to hear her sweet moan, to take everything that should have belonged to me?

I did not want to think about another man touching her and I certainly did not want to think about some fool claiming what is mine. Filling his c*m inside her. Giving her babies.

The thought turned my blood hot.

Was that why she had stayed silent these past days? Had she even missed me at all?

The f*****g retarded that got her pregnant. The father of her… son she refused to talk about, did…did she still have feelings for him?

I would find the sick fucker and every single motherfucker that lay hands on what mine and I would—

Her long lashes fluttered.

Those brown eyes opened, hazy with sleep, then widened as they focused on me.

I didn’t give her time to speak.

I leaned down and pressed my mouth to hers, claiming her in a demanding kiss.

She tasted like fire and home all at once, and the restlessness that had followed me for few days finally started to ease

She was mine. She had always been mine. She had better not forget that again.