Training Her Curves - London (A BBW Billionaire Domination & Submission Romance) by Christa Wick Page A

adversaries, no more than barely acquainted, when we entered Rick's studio. Before the launch of the catalogue, there were few pictures of me publicly available -- the males in my family had made sure of that, my father out of shame at his roly-poly daughter, my brothers out of a misguided since of protection.
    So how the hell could I have been bait?
    I pounded a fist against Simon's chest as he gingerly placed me on the mattress. "Answer me, damn it! Why?"
    Shadows dominated his pale green eyes. He didn't answer, just knelt before me. His hands formed loose fists as he rested one near each of my hips. As tall as he was, he barely had to look up to meet my gaze when he began speaking.
    "I don't need to be sexually intimate with you, Riona. I just need you to stay the night." His chin made a discreet jab at the mattress, the tilt of his head causing some of his dark blond locks to fall across his forehead. "Talk to me about anything, in the dark, next to me."
    I stared at him, my face twisting in confusion, and then I stared at my lap. "I can't. Others will talk--"
    "No one saw you come up. Stay late enough into tomorrow morning and it won't matter that anyone sees you go down." His fingers unfurled, his arms sliding inward to nestle against my upper thighs. His palms curled around the sides of my bottom. "Or I'll freeze every damn door lock in the building so that you're the only one traveling when you're ready to return to your room."
    The urgency of his voice and the way he squeezed at my flesh unnerved me. I shook my head. I was fighting two battles, one against Simon, the other against my desires -- or my fears. "Someone, somewhere -- on some bank of screens, has already seen me..."
    He pulled back and, once again, I missed his heat immediately.
    "You don't really care what others think, Riona. I've studied you enough all these months to know that."
    I shook my head, denying the truth of his words. I did care what a few people thought. My brothers, my future sisters-in-law and, I was starting to think, the man standing in front of me even though the idea of spending even a platonic night in bed next to him frightened me.
    "If you go," he continued, pushing onto his feet and stepping away from the bed. ""It's only because you don't want to stay, not because of what others might think or say. You know, as well as I do, that there are only two people affected by your decision. I doubt the rest of the world even cares."
    Two people, him and me.
    Simon was right, but that didn't stop me from searching for another route out of the room, one that didn't create the sole appearance of my rejecting him. I wasn't rejecting him and I didn't want him to feel that way. Deep down, I thought it was the surprising suddenness I wanted to flee.
    "This isn't a trick?" I asked.
    He offered a smile more generous than I felt I deserved after my accusatory question. He held his arms out, the elbows loose and his palms up. "I left my bag of tricks at the office, I'm afraid."
    "This is your office."
    I tried to smile back. All I could do was stare at him. He seemed to grow more beautiful by the second. His skin was a warm cream. Not tan, but not colorless, the glow healthy and inviting. Dark gold hair dusted his forearms, fanned thicker across his chest before running an unrelenting line down the center of his torso to disappear beneath the waist of the tight fitting leather pants.
    Everything about him was a temptation. He might be able to spend a platonic night next to me in bed, but I wasn't sure I could control my own behavior.
    "You have to promise nothing sexual will happen," I started. "Even if..."
    I felt my cheeks heat and cursed myself for not shutting up sooner.
    "Even if you ask for it?" he finished for me.
    I nodding, the skin on my face burning with embarrassment, the sensation as painful as if I'd fallen forward into a pile of vicious ants.
    Simon studied me for a few seconds, the tilting movement of his head slow and uneven. His