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I make sure to keep the smile perched on my face. A surge of dopamine is flooding through me, along with another emotion.
For the first time since I met Georgina at that blasted reception, I have all the balls in my court. I have the power to buy her magazine and turn her world upside down.
And, as a bonus, she has no idea about the hell she’d put me through these past few days. All she knows is that she has not, after all, managed to make me angry. In fact, I’m thanking her for helping me.
I haven’t even begun yet.
“Well, good luck,” she tells me. “Because I plan on releasing an article every day until the election day.”
“Would that be before or after I buyEnchanté?”
“You…can’t,” she says crossly. “I told you already. You stand more to lose than I do.”
“And yet, somehow, you’re not advising me to buy it,” I say as I take another step closer to her so we’re mere inches from each other.
“You’re a body of contradictions, Georgina.”
Her eyes flutter closed, and a faint sigh escapes her lips. “Don’t call me that,” she murmurs, an edge creeping into her voice. “Everyone calls me Gigi.”
But I can barely hear her. At the sound of her gentle sigh, all else fades away: her trivial articles, my gratifying game of teasing her, and even my plan. All my focus is on Georgina, the woman standing before me. The very same woman who had aroused me more swiftly and more intensely than any other in my entire life. And all this at a wedding, no less.
I've never felt more aware of our solitude than I do now, as I step closer to her and embrace her angry, yet alluring body against mine. A deeper sense of euphoria surges through me, even more intense than the delight I took in taunting her.
Georgina does not pull away. She looks up at me, rage draining from her face.
Before I’m completely aware of what I’m doing, I’m bending down, nuzzling my face in her neck, getting a whiff of her hair.
Georgina sighs once more, and I understand that I have captivated her. However, I do not feel a stronger sense of excitement. While my plan was to deter her from pursuing Theodore and me by seducing her, I did not anticipate her being as irresistible as she was.
She’d managed to seduce me without even trying. Again.
I should stick to the plan, I tell myself as I breathe in her scent, pull her closer, and let my fingers trail down to her waist, cupping her hips.
She moves against me, all traces of her fury gone. She’s no longer an appalled, self-assured journalist. She’s a woman who needs me as much as I need her.
She backs into my palm as though she wants my fingers to trail even lower, to hold her ass instead of her hips. To squeeze it, maybe.
And I’m dyingto do that. More than that, I’m dying to strip her of her prudish outfit, to see every bit of her, and to thrust myself into her.
But I summon every ounce of self-control I have and straighten up to look back in her face. The expression of desire in her eyes makes me almost lose control again. I manage to take a step back.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
Fuck.I was not supposed to say that. I was supposed to do exactly what she’d done at the party, where she’d given me a boner and disappeared as though we were having a polite conversation. Or, instead of that, point out how attracted she is to me and suggest that’s why she cannot stop writing about me. That wouldn’t have gotten me anywhere, but it would have pissed her off. And I sure do love to see her angry.
Do I?
Because, right now, all I want is to see the desire on Georgina’s face when she looks at me.
Being within a foot of her is enough to scramble my thoughts and push out an actualapology from my lips. An apology I’d sworn never to give.
Half of me wants to stab myself. But the other half, the half that cannot think of anything unrelated to holding Georgina, pushes forward.
“I did not intend what I said about buying the magazine to piss you off,” I say. “Enchantéis a good magazine and would be an asset to Stawarski Media.”
Every single word I just said is a lie. Still, it flows out of me with surprising ease from years of experience.
I expect her to cave in and tell me she’s accepted my apology. I expect her to beg me not to buy her magazine. It’s not far-fetched anymore, not when she’s almostbegging me to fuck her. It’s doubtful she’s going to stop posting articles about me now.
