Page 182 of Secret Twin Heirs For The Billionaire

“Because it’s late, you’ve had wine, and I’m going in the same direction.”

“You’re not going in the same direction,” I say.

“I can be.”

I shake my head.

“There it is,” I say.

“What?”

“That thing you do where you decide what’s happening and make it sound perfectly reasonable.”

Ross’s expression shifts.

“That’s fair.”

The immediate agreement takes some of the wind out of me as I reach for my clutch.

“You don’t have to come.”

“I know,” he says. “I still want to.”

I look at him for a moment.

“Fine.”

Ross signs the check, and a few minutes later we step outside into the cool night air.

The streets are quieter now, but not empty. Cars move steadily along the main road, and the restaurants around us are still busy enough that voices spill out each time a door opens.

Ross walks beside me without trying to fill the silence. That should make the walk easier, but it doesn’t. Dinner stripped away more of the distance between us than I intended. He said things I spent years believing I would never hear, and now I am walking beside him through London with wine warming my blood and every old instinct I buried beginning to stir again.

I hate how easy his presence feels. I hate that I still know his pace. I hate that when he moves slightly closer to let another couple pass, my body notices before my mind does.

We reach the next corner, and my heel catches against the edge of a metal grate. I lose my balance for less than a second, and Ross catches me before I can correct it myself.

One hand closes around my upper arm while the other lands against the small of my back. Heat flashes through me so fast that I stop breathing. His palm is broad and warm through the thin fabric of my dress.