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It’s hard for me to keep my eyes off her, no matter how pissed and hurt I am. She’s wearing a long, emerald-green evening gown. It’s not an expensive dress, but it’s one that plays up every one of her assets—from her smooth curves and round breasts to the smooth milkiness of her skin. Even though I know things are different between us now, and they have to be, I can’t help thinking about how rewarding it would be to slide that dress down her body, freeing her perky breasts, then kissing my way all the way down her body…
I jerk my eyes away, and toward the guests I’m talking to. That won’t be happening. Even if I hadn’t decided that this had to end, she’s apparently already decided it for me.
When Micah and I returned to the penthouse after our dinner, I’d found that the few articles of clothing she’d had in my room, as well as her toiletry bag, were gone. My key was on the nightstand. She hadn’t bothered with a note. There wasn’t much point, was there?
I move from one attendee to the next. Vanessa is standing by what she considers to be her best piece, her husband at her side, talking animatedly to the group of tuxedoed men standing there. I suppress an eye roll and look around more. Roberto is doing his thing, answering questions about the art as best he can and being charming. He is good at that. Not too far from him, Bruce, Poppy’s father, is chatting with an older couple. The man cleans up quite well, and I’m glad I’d invited him, even though this feels awkward as hell—being around him after everything that’s happened behind his back between Poppy and me. Still, like the rest of us, Bruce has worked his ass off getting this show ready, and he deserves to enjoy it.
I spend a lot of time deliberately trying not to look at Poppy, but I can’t help it. The only thing I notice, aside from how gorgeous she is, is that not even once do I catch her looking at me. This bothers me probably more than it should, but less than twelve hours ago we were fucking like hormonal bunnies, and now she won’t even look at me?
I turn away as I feel my temper rising. No woman has ever messed me up this badly—made me feel like such an emotional fucking mess. I enjoy them and walk away, eventually. It’s what I’ve done since Danneel passed. I never even once considered opening my heart to anyone else, and I didn’t expect to do that with Poppy, either. Yet, it happened.
I guess it makes sense. She doesn’t look a thing like Danneel, but in personality… apparently, I have a type, and it’s sassy and a little bit cocky and curious and creative. My wife had been a quieter woman, though she had every bit of Poppy’s addictive confidence.
I turn back to look at Poppy without really thinking, and I do so just in time to see a dark-haired man sidle up to her. I pretend to be looking at the brochure in my hand, but I can’t help watching. He’s talking, and she’s laughing, and then she’s talking animatedly to him, and I can see that the fucker is absolutely enthralled.
Before I know what I’m doing, I set the brochure down and stride over to where they’re standing. Poppy gives me a disapproving glare, which the guy doesn’t see because he’s looking at me. I give them what I hope is a benign smile.
“Ms. McAdams. May I have your assistance with something, please?”
She gives me another glare but quietly excuses herself. I head toward the stairs up to my office, and she follows, then I wave her past. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do; to let her go first.
Of course, I should have thought of the fact that now I have her walking up the stairs ahead of me, her round ass and shapely legs are in front of my face. And Poppy’s ass is one of my favorite parts of her body. I love that she likes it when I spank her and that she’s been adventurous enough to let me have my way with her in that way, as well as every other way—no. Thinking this way isn’t a good idea. I need to get my shit together.
She walks into my office. I follow, closing the door behind us.
Chapter Thirteen
Poppy
The sound of the door clicking shut behind me is deafening. I can barely see straight, I’m so angry with Nathaniel, not just for that dumbass jealous move he just made, but for everything before it, too. The looks when he thought I wasn’t looking… that need in his eyes… as if I actually mean anything to him.
I cross my arms over my chest and turn to him, determined not to show him what I’m feeling.
“I wanted to get this out of the way now. I think we can both agree that we can’t work together anymore. Your services are no longer needed, but you’ll be paid in full. I transferred your full payment into your account right before the opening.”
