I thought I’d have the whole morning to do in-office work, but nope.
I step out through the doors and walk across the concrete floor to the parking lot. I spot Chance’s car and head over there.
He’s leaning against the side, his face glued to his phone. His tall frame is wrapped up nicely in a casual light brown suit with dark brown shoes to match.
My insides swim with need, as it always does when I set eyes on him.
I almost agree with Nat’s rant last night when I called to tell her about the intruder.
“You slept down the hall from him and didn’t even get a cuddle? Are you crazy?”
“Nat, I was frightened.”
“All the more reason why you should have asked him to stay with you and—”
“We’re not sleeping together, remember?”
“You should have. How romantic would it have been?”
Then I had to explain why we couldn’t be romantic.
Now, though, I’m considering it. He was nothing but sweet when he took me from the villa to his home. Then he drove me back after assuring me everything was safe and stayed until I promised I’d be fine.
I’m only worried because I’m not imagining just sex. I’m imagining the stuff that comes after, the things that only lovers do. Like cuddles, cozying up on a couch together to watch a movie, and having regular dates.
“I’m here,” I say a little too loudly to announce my presence and shut down those thoughts swirling through my head.
He looks up and his eyes soften.
They always seem to do that when they fall on me. Does that mean… nope, no!
“Get in.”
I pause. What?
“Into the car,” he says after a beat.
One moment I’m swooning and the next he’s ordering me about. So bossy.
I round the car and get in. He enters after me and starts the car.
“What’s happening?” I frown. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
Um, what?
His phone starts to ring. Without looking at it, Chance presses the off button, then tosses it in the back.
What is going on? I don’t ask, though. I’m certain he’ll give another non-answer.
Maybe we’re attending a meeting that just came up. But he didn’t ask me to bring my laptop. How will I take notes? Or make references?
I eye his profile and he’s a picture of control, as always. Nothing slips by him. If he wanted me to bring my laptop, he’d have stated it.
I sit back and try to relax, but I’m not very successful. We don’t go to another company building or a hall, instead, we’re driving out of the business district.
I hold my tongue, curiosity winning over confusion.
