Warren Donovan was New York royalty.
“You’re that Donovan?” she said, almost too stunned to formulate full sentences.
“I am.” He took her hand and rubbed his thumb over the backs of her fingers. “And I don’t want you Googling me now that I’ve told you that,” he added. “Do you understand?”
He was using his Dom voice. And after how she’d felt about defying him over her hair, she knew not to disobey him on this.
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, sir.”
His intention was clear. This was an order from a Dom to his submissive, not a request from Warren to Jenna. Not following this directive would result in severe punishment.
“I will let you see my face when you’ve earned it, is that understood?”
She was still trying to pull herself together after discovering that the man she was here with—the one she had embarked on a sexual journey with after he’d misdialed her number over a month ago—was one of the wealthiest men in New York. The country even. Warren belonged to the coveted one percent. Or more like one percent of the one percent.
“Jenna? Do you understand?” he repeated with more force.
“Y-yes. Yes, sir.”
He had to be worth millions. Hundreds of millions. Billions. He could have any woman he wanted. How had little old her caught his eye? This surely had to be a mistake.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer. His regular voice.
She looked up to find his gray-green eyes studying her with a note of concern.
“I’m okay, just a little—”
“Surprised?”
She nodded.
“Confused?”
She nodded again.
“About . . .?”
“Just . . . I don’t know . . .” She looked around the terrace. “How I got here?”
His hand closed around hers, then he said gently, “You got into a car, and it brought you here.” But it was obvious he knew what she was really asking and was only trying to simplify the issue so it appeared less complicated.
“No, I mean . . . you and me? Us? This?” She waved her arm from the terrace to the view of the city, as if that could encompass the enormity of who he was.
He was so out of her league. She was small town. Her parents had been middle-income earners. He was Mr. Big and filthy rich.
He pulled her hand to his chest, placing his palm over the back of hers. “It’s simple, Jenna,” he said gently. “I dialed a seven instead of a one, and you answered. Then you talked to me. Really talked. Not like I was some man who could give you the world, but like I was just some random guy off the street. I liked that. I liked how normal I felt talking to you.” He inched closer, smiling at her hair like he secretly enjoyed that she had defied him and done what she wanted, not what he had asked of her. “You intrigued me. And the more we talked, the more intrigued I became. I found myself thinking about you more and more, even when I shouldn’t have been. And then I saw you, and then I touched you, and that’s when I knew I had to have you. I needed more.” He gave a shallow, unapologetic shrug. “And now here you are.” A contrite, lopsided smile twisted his mouth. “But you weren’t expecting me to be one of the wealthiest men in the city, were you?”
“Not exactly.”
He tucked a strand of hair that had fallen from her chignon behind her ear. “Try not to let yourself get hung up on that. I’m still Warren. I’m still the man who dialed a wrong number and got you on the phone. Still the man you’ve been talking to for weeks like I’m just a regular guy. A man who thoroughly enjoyed getting to know you without all the bullshit attached to my name and net worth.” He lightly cupped her face and caressed her cheek with his thumb. “Don’t pull away from me and make me out to be untouchable. Don’t put me on a pedestal just because you’ve learned I have money. I don’t want this to change how you treat me.” He leaned closer, staring hard into her eyes. “I don’t want it to change what’s between us, Jenna. I don’t want it to change us.”
The reminder of how they’d found each other and how this whole relationship had begun in the first place helped ground her. For over a month, he had been nothing more than a simple, mostly nameless, faceless man with a salaciously seductive voice who had accidentally dialed her number. And he was still that man. He just had a larger bank account.
At least now she knew why he’d shared so few details about himself and had preferred the veil of anonymity. She could see in his eyes that he had feared how she would respond to him once she knew who he was.
But that didn’t mean things wouldn’t change now that she did. How could they not?
“But things will change,” she said, purposefully lifting her gaze to his.
His jaw tensed. “It doesn’t have to.”
“Yes, it does.” She studied what she could see of his expression. “And it should,” she added before he could reply. “Shouldn’t it?” She searched his gaze as it shifted from alarmed to confused. “Shouldn’t everything we learn about each other change us in some way? Our relationship?”
He didn’t look comfortable with where she was taking this, so she quickly added, “It should make things better.” She ran her palms over his chest, still having a hard time believing he was really there and that they were really together. “A month ago, you were just a voice on the phone. And that was okay.” Her fingers glided down the smooth, warm placket of his shirt. “Now you’re Warren Donovan, business tycoon and the president and CEO of Donovan Enterprises.” She smiled softly. “And that’s okay too. It’s
