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“Come on, Ella,” I say, stepping inside her bedroom and closing the door behind me so I don’t accidentally wake Isla in the room next door. “It’ll be nice. I promise I’ll stick to a slower pace if you come with me.”
“That’s the best deal you can offer me?” She cracks one eye open again. “No, thanks.”
“You’ll thank me for this later.” I tug at the covers until they come off the bed completely—a big mistake since the nightshirt she’s wearing has ridden up around her waist, exposing the deliciously sexy curve of her ass. Now I just want to crawl into bed with her, but I need to stay strong. We can fool around later. Hell, we can fool around on the beach in Los Angeles if I play my cards right. “You can go back to bed when we’re done.”
“Have you lost your mind?” She sounds pissed but the corners of her mouth are twitching like she wants to smile in spite of herself. “Isla will be awake in a little while and she’s going to be upset if neither one of us are here. Besides.” She tries to yank the blankets from my grip but I’m not letting go. “You can’t make me go for a run. That isn’t part of my job description.”
What is it about Americans and their job descriptions?
“I might not be able to make you go,” I conceded. “But I’d like it if you’d join me.” For the sake of getting my way, I even add a belated, “Please?”
She tries to glare at me but can’t keep a straight face for more than a few seconds. “You really must want me to go,” she says as a smile slowly starts to spread on her pretty lips. “You hardly ever say please.”
“I say please all the time,” I lie. “Anyway, let’s go. We’re wasting precious minutes here.”
“See? That’s the tone I’m used to hearing.” With a dramatic sigh, she pushes herself up from the bed and shoos me back out the door. “I’ll be ready in five minutes.”
“Four minutes.”
“Fine. Whatever. Just go.”
Now it’s my turn to smile as she closes the door in my face. I knew she’d give in. I just hope it’ll be this easy to talk her into coming along for the L.A. trip. God knows I can’t do it without her.
We’re about half a mile into our run when I break the news.
“California?” She shakes her head and immediately stops running. “Why do you want to go there?”
I frown. “Keep jogging. I don’t want to ruin my time.”
She starts moving again but still not as fast as I’d like. “You didn’t answer my question.”
I answer with a question of my own. “Does the reason for the trip really matter?”
“You’ve never mentioned any business dealings in California before. I suppose you probably own another high-rise out there?”
Can’t she ever just say yes to anything the first time I ask? Does it always have to be a discussion? No other member of my staff would even dream of being so argumentative.
Then again, I’m not fucking any of them.
“I hate to disappoint you, but no. I don’t own a high-rise in L.A. We’d be going there to visit an old friend of mine. He’s producing a movie and he wants me to attend the premiere.” We’re slowing down again but I don’t bother trying to prod her to move faster. Getting her to say yes is more important than a fast run. “I’d need to bring a date for the red carpet, of course. And the after-party.”
Her eyes narrow. “Are you trying to bribe me with a date? After all this time, do you really still think I’m some kind of gold digger?”
“Did I ever say that?” Fuck, now I’m starting to get pissed. “Jesus, Ella. Why does it always have to be a fight with you? Most women would be thrilled to get an invitation like this, but you have to second-guess me at every turn.”
“I’m not allowed to ask any questions?” She’s raising her voice to match mine. “This is the problem, Keir. You accuse me of picking fights with you, but you still can’t seem to understand that I’m not one of your little yes-men who follows you around and asks ‘how high’ every time you shout for me to jump.”
She’s so fucking difficult sometimes. And so fucking sexy. Always.
Her brow furrows. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” I try to school my features but it’s too late. Now I’m thinking about how good she looked lying in her bed this morning—or better yet, lying in my bed the night before—and I can’t be bothered with this stupid argument.
“Like I’m some kind of snack,” she answers, a hint of a smile on her face as I take a step toward her. “You drive me crazy. You know that, right?”
“You drive me crazy, too,” I say, pulling her into my arms until I can feel every curve of her body pressed against me. “Fuck, I keep telling myself not to do this.”
“And we shouldn’t.” Her breath hitches but she doesn’t try to get away from me. “Especially not out here in the middle of a park where people can see us.”
