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He studied the toes of his shoes, hands deep in his pockets. “In truth, I’m surprised you took the appointment. I thought you’d turn me away.”
“I almost did.”
Nodding agreeably, he met her gaze, dark eyes burning intently. “It would be easier that way, wouldn’t it?”
Her mouth went a little dry. “Yes. Yes, it would.”
The tension hummed between them. She glanced at her clock again.
“Do you know what day it is?” he asked her.
“January 6.”
“It’s Epiphany.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?”
“Let’s just say I’ve had one.” He walked over to her window and looked out at the city, his back to her. She remembered how he’d looked shirtless, tanned muscles rippling as he drove her wild with the strap. “It would have been easier to keep you in the role I picked out for you. No strings. A clear arrangement. It was also easier for me to lose the battle for the island than sacrifice my pride and pay what it took.”
He glanced over his shoulder, lips curved in a wry smile. She hoped he couldn’t read her prurient thoughts on her face.
“You got it back.” A kind of pure happiness and relief suffused her at his answering grin.
“I did, yes.” He came over and leaned his hands on her desk. “As I seem to be forever doomed to repeat, you were right. I paid off my rat bastard of an uncle and he signed the papers over to me.”
“I’m so glad.” He returned her smile and that bit of unspoiled paradise seemed to envelop them. For an eternal moment, they shared the harmony and perfection of that place, like champagne bubbles rising between them.
“We’ve lost all Miramoto business, of course, which is another sore blow to the family fortunes.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head slowly, holding her gaze. “Don’t be. You made me realize that I don’t always have to win. And that the greatest cost might be having to tell my Grandmother Sofia that we lost the heart of d’Oro. That I failed her.”
She thought of the boy he’d been, breaking his arm playing Tarzan and how his grandmother had stood up for him. “She would have understood, you know.”
“Yes, and that would have been the worst blow of all.” He stood again, tucking his hands back in his pockets, gaze roving over her. “You look good, Tilda. Gorgeous, of course, but...different than you were in Cozumel.”
“I am different. What did you say in your note? That your games aren’t things you do to a Fortune 500 CEO?”
“I used to think that way.” He said it softly.
“And now?”
“Mostly I’m surprised you went for it in the first place.”
“I needed a change.” Her mouth was dry again, so she rose to refill her mug with water from the dispenser.
“And now?” He threw her question back at her.
“Is this a deposition?”
He moved toward her, not quite boxing her into the corner, his animal energy nearly tangible. “Should it be? I think I could find ways to make you spill all your secrets.”
Her nipples, well-trained, clearly, immediately peaked. Something about him just went straight to her core and melted her.
“What I think is that I don’t have room for you in this world. In my real world.”
“You said you were thinking of making a change.”
