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His lips paused on her for a breathless second before he set her hand back on her lap and whispered, “It’s the office. I have to get this.”
Virginia made a strangled sound which was supposed to be an agreement and clearly sounded more like a dying woman. She watched his dark silhouette move between the tables and disappear down the hall so quickly. She already missed him. She scanned her surroundings. Everybody was eating, carrying on conversations. The world hadn’t stopped like she’d thought because of those tiny kisses on her knuckles.
She sank back in her seat, agitated when Marissa watched her. She brought her hand to her mouth, the one he’d kissed, and closed her eyes as she grazed her lips in the exact same places his lips had touched.
Eyes popping open to meet the other woman’s canny gaze, she straightened, readjusted the hem of her knee-length dress, and mentally cursed this pretense from here to Alaska and then to Mars. Was he seducing her? Or was this all for Marissa’s sake?
“So,” Marissa said. “You love him.”
Virginia was about to jump in denial, frantic to save herself from this accusation, which of course implied that she was stupid, needed therapy and more, and then she realized he was counting on her to pretend that she did.
Love him.
“I…” Her lips couldn’t form the words I love him. Her tongue seemed to freeze. Seemed to want to say only one thing, and that was I hate him.
She hated him and this stupid plan and how he touched her and how well he pretended to want her.
So instead she nodded, and let Marissa think what she would.
His powerful scent reached her long before he sat down beside her again. Virginia stared straight ahead like a horse with blinders. And just to prevent any more stoking of the staggering anger building inside her, she tucked her hands under her thighs. There. See if the man could touch her knuckles now.
She remained quiet the rest of the meal.
She heard Marissa invite them to a party the next day while she considered Marcos’s offer.
She told herself she didn’t care to know what kind of offer he’d made.
Six
Something had changed.
Virginia had changed. She was different, and yet, it was all the same with him. The twisting sensation in his gut, the demented beat of his heart, the itch in his hands, the coiling want in his body.
Alert, clever, perceptive and spirited…now his assistant seemed to be struggling to comprehend what she’d witnessed as they reached their rooms.
They’d had such an enjoyable time this morning, he’d been certain he knew where they were heading tonight.
He wasn’t sure anymore.
He wasn’t sure of anything—very unlike an Allende.
He took her to the middle of the living room and just stood there, his jacket in one hand, looking at her. His every muscle felt stiff and pained, his hard-on merciless, and when he moved the slightest bit, arousal lanced through him. He set his jacket aside and felt as if the air was being squeezed out of his lungs. She was disappointed he’d been such a bad son to his father? He’d lost her admiration? Her respect?
His insides twisted at the thought. He stepped forward, toward her, his thoughts congested, tangled like vines. The heat of her angry breaths made his insides strain in his want to drink it, feel it, appease it. It sent him teetering into an aroused state he couldn’t fathom, much less understand. Eyeing her in silence, he tugged at his tie, stripping it from his neck, breathing harshly.
“I’d say that went well.”
She tilted her head, her eyes fierce, something there marking him as loathsome. “She didn’t believe us for a moment, that we…” She turned away as if disgusted. “She didn’t buy it.”
He narrowed his eyes—watching the tantalizing rise and fall of her chest. How would they feel to the touch? Soft. Yes, God, soft and small. Perky? Yes, that, too. His mouth watered. “Whether she believes it or not is of no consequence now.”
Her eyes flashed a glittery warning. “You wanted to make her jealous.”
“Jealous,” he repeated, puzzled by the accusation. “Is that what you believe?”
She shoved her hair back from her forehead. “Yes, it is. And I’m sorry I disappointed, Marcos.”
His blood raged hot and wild. He’d never seen her like this. Almost out of control, begging for…something he wanted to give her. Suddenly he’d give anything to hear her utter his name in that same haughty, do-me tone. He’d do anything to just…bury this ache inside her.
