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He lay awake and glared at the ceiling, his mind counting the steps to her room. Twenty? Maybe fewer. Was she asleep? What did she wear to sleep? Was she remembering, too? Jesus, what a nightmare.
He shouldn’t have asked her there.
He’d thought nothing of Allende, nothing of tomorrow, but had kept going over in his mind the ways she’d kissed him and the ways he still wanted to kiss her.
He sat up and critically surveyed the door of his room. He wanted her to give in. Wanted something of hers, a stolen moment, something she hadn’t planned to give him, but couldn’t help but relinquish. She was cautious by nature. She’d fear ruining everything, all she’d worked so hard for, all she’d tried to achieve. A steady job, security, respect. Could he guarantee this would remain solid when they were through? Could they even continue working together—flaring up like torches like this?
Their kiss had shot him up into outer space; obviously he still couldn’t think right. In his drawstring pants, he climbed out of bed and slipped into his shirt.
He meant to review his numbers once again, ascertain that the amount he planned to offer for Allende was low, but fair enough to secure it.
Instead he ignored his files and found himself standing outside his assistant’s bedroom door, his hand on the doorknob, his heart beating a crazy jungle-cat rhythm.
He turned the knob, smiling at his certainty of her, her being always so…orderly, having locked it against him.
His heart stopped when he realized Virginia Hollis’s door was unlocked. Now all that kept him from Virginia Hollis were his damned scruples.
Five
“Sleep well?”
“Of course. Wonderfully well. And you?”
“Perfectly.”
That was the extent of their conversation the next morning over breakfast. Until Marcos began folding his copy of El Norte. “A favor from you, Miss Hollis?”
Virginia glanced up from her breakfast to stare into his handsome, clean-shaven face. A kiss, she thought with a tightness in her stomach. A touch. God, a second kiss to get rid of that haunting memory of the first.
With her thoughts presenting her the image of him—Marcos Allende—kissing her, she flushed so hard her skin felt on fire. She toyed with her French toast. “Nothing too drastic, I assume?” she said, some of the giddiness she felt creeping into her voice.
“Drastic?” he repeated, setting the morning paper aside.
She shrugged. “Oh, you know…murder. Blackmail. I don’t think I could get away with those.”
Eyes glinting with amusement, he shook his head, and his smile was gone. His elbows came to rest on the table as he leaned forward. “What kind of boss do you take me for?”
One I want, she thought. One who kissed me.
Those broad, rippling muscles under his shirt could belong to a warrior.
God just didn’t make men like these anymore.
She’d lied. She hadn’t slept one wink.
If she’d been camping out in the dark, naked, within ten feet of a hungry lion, maybe she’d have been able to sleep. But no. She had been within a few feet of her dream man, and her lips had still tingled from his kiss, and her body seemed to scream for all the years she hadn’t paid attention to letting someone love it.
After lying on the bed for what felt like hours, for some strange reason she had bolted to her feet and rummaged through the stuff he’d bought…and slipped into something sexy. A sleek white silk gown that hugged her like skin. Heart vaulting in excitement, she’d unlocked the door. Returned to bed. And waited. Eyeing the door.
The knob had begun turning. Her eyes widened, and her pulse went out of orbit. She waited minutes, minutes, for the door to open, and yet the knob returned to place again. Nothing happened. He changed his mind? Her heart sped, and then she flung off the covers and stepped out of bed.
The living room was empty—silver in the moonlight. And then, torn between some unnamable need and the need for self-preservation, she’d quietly gone back to bed.
Now, looking like a well-rested, sexy billionaire, he asked what kind of boss she took him for.
“One who’s never bitten me,” she blurted, then wished to kick herself for the way that came out sounding. Like an invitation. Like…more. Damn him.
He chuckled instantly, and Virginia pushed to her feet when she totally lost her appetite. He followed her up, uncurling slowly like he always did.
