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Authors: Maisey Yates
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waiting for Gage, or the driver, to open her door for her.
“It has a view of the ocean,” Gage said, coming to stand beside her.
She cleared her throat. “Yes, it does.” It bothered her now, that he had that little piece of her. Now he knew what to say, and he knew why this place was so perfect to her. He would know what she was thinking.
She shrugged off the unsettling thought. “So, where am I staying?”
“We are staying in the house I had built for my own personal use.”
The thought of staying with him did not settle well. “Why are we staying together?”
“The board is visiting. That means we have to look as cozy as possible.”
“But it’s a whole house?”
“Yes. More than three thousand square feet. You’ll never have to see me. Unless you want to, of course.”
The look that he gave her was so heated it made her body temperature skyrocket. His meaning wasn’t implied so much as stated. Boldly, explicitly.
“I don’t,” she said, tight-lipped, knowing how uptight she sounded.
He lifted an eyebrow. “What if there’s a business matter we need to discuss?”
“Then I’ll look for you.”
“What did you think I meant, Lily?”
She made a scoffing sound in the back of her throat. “You know perfectly well what … because it’s what you were implying.” He was flustering her. Honestly flustering her. That did not happen. Ever.
He didn’t say anything. Didn’t even try to break the thick silence with a clever comment. He only looked at her, his blue eyes roaming over her body, making her feel like he was undressing her. Like she was already undressed. Like he could see everything. Every flaw, every imperfection, every bit of her.
She looked away, throat dry. “Okay, so where’s the house?”
“Just down the path.”
He surprised her by opening the trunk of the limousine and taking their suitcases out himself before heading down the heavily wooded trail. She followed him, as best she could in her stilettos, which were not made for a natural path, however nicely constructed.
She wobbled and pitched forward, catching herself on his broad shoulders, her breasts crushed against hisback. He stopped, his body stiff and strong beneath her weight. Her heart thundered heavily, both from the near fall, and from being so close to him again.
It was just like it had been when they were dancing. He was so solid, so hot and male. She wanted to melt into him. To chase after the riot of sensations that were moving through her body at lightning speed. To finally know what it meant to share sexual pleasure with someone else.
She pushed away from him, wobbling again, but she managed to get her balance on her own. She took a sharp breath. Just the small distance between them afforded her more clarity of thought. But when she touched him … she forgot everything. Everything but her steadily growing desire for him. Well, not really for him personally, but for his body. Gage was the last man on earth—okay, not really the last man but he was low on the list—with whom she would choose to have a real relationship. But something about him physically, probably his undeniable sex appeal, got to her more than any other man ever had.
It was raw and elemental, beyond common sense. And she really, really hated it.
“Sorry,” she said, her voice breaking and, she knew, revealing just how much the encounter had affected her.
“Be careful,” he said. His voice sounded thicker, huskier. That was when she knew. Knew that he was affected by her, too, that her touching him, pressing against him, was doing the same thing to him that it had done to her. And that did not make things better.
She twisted the engagement ring on her finger and reminded herself exactly why she didn’t need a relationship, with Gage or anyone else. She didn’t want anyoneto
own
her. Didn’t want anyone to control her and manipulate her with her own foolish emotions. She’d seen how it worked, what love did to you, what
“It has a view of the ocean,” Gage said, coming to stand beside her.
She cleared her throat. “Yes, it does.” It bothered her now, that he had that little piece of her. Now he knew what to say, and he knew why this place was so perfect to her. He would know what she was thinking.
She shrugged off the unsettling thought. “So, where am I staying?”
“We are staying in the house I had built for my own personal use.”
The thought of staying with him did not settle well. “Why are we staying together?”
“The board is visiting. That means we have to look as cozy as possible.”
“But it’s a whole house?”
“Yes. More than three thousand square feet. You’ll never have to see me. Unless you want to, of course.”
The look that he gave her was so heated it made her body temperature skyrocket. His meaning wasn’t implied so much as stated. Boldly, explicitly.
“I don’t,” she said, tight-lipped, knowing how uptight she sounded.
He lifted an eyebrow. “What if there’s a business matter we need to discuss?”
“Then I’ll look for you.”
“What did you think I meant, Lily?”
She made a scoffing sound in the back of her throat. “You know perfectly well what … because it’s what you were implying.” He was flustering her. Honestly flustering her. That did not happen. Ever.
He didn’t say anything. Didn’t even try to break the thick silence with a clever comment. He only looked at her, his blue eyes roaming over her body, making her feel like he was undressing her. Like she was already undressed. Like he could see everything. Every flaw, every imperfection, every bit of her.
She looked away, throat dry. “Okay, so where’s the house?”
“Just down the path.”
He surprised her by opening the trunk of the limousine and taking their suitcases out himself before heading down the heavily wooded trail. She followed him, as best she could in her stilettos, which were not made for a natural path, however nicely constructed.
She wobbled and pitched forward, catching herself on his broad shoulders, her breasts crushed against hisback. He stopped, his body stiff and strong beneath her weight. Her heart thundered heavily, both from the near fall, and from being so close to him again.
It was just like it had been when they were dancing. He was so solid, so hot and male. She wanted to melt into him. To chase after the riot of sensations that were moving through her body at lightning speed. To finally know what it meant to share sexual pleasure with someone else.
She pushed away from him, wobbling again, but she managed to get her balance on her own. She took a sharp breath. Just the small distance between them afforded her more clarity of thought. But when she touched him … she forgot everything. Everything but her steadily growing desire for him. Well, not really for him personally, but for his body. Gage was the last man on earth—okay, not really the last man but he was low on the list—with whom she would choose to have a real relationship. But something about him physically, probably his undeniable sex appeal, got to her more than any other man ever had.
It was raw and elemental, beyond common sense. And she really, really hated it.
“Sorry,” she said, her voice breaking and, she knew, revealing just how much the encounter had affected her.
“Be careful,” he said. His voice sounded thicker, huskier. That was when she knew. Knew that he was affected by her, too, that her touching him, pressing against him, was doing the same thing to him that it had done to her. And that did not make things better.
She twisted the engagement ring on her finger and reminded herself exactly why she didn’t need a relationship, with Gage or anyone else. She didn’t want anyoneto
own
her. Didn’t want anyone to control her and manipulate her with her own foolish emotions. She’d seen how it worked, what love did to you, what
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