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I approached, cupped her face. “I want all of you,” I admitted.
“You want more sex.”
Her gaze dropped and the way my dick was tenting my jeans, it was pretty obvious.
“Always. But I like this. You and me.”
Her dark eyes held something. Wariness. Hope. Many things. “This was just sex. A little fling at that bar.”
“Itwasjust sex. This isn’t little, what’s between us. I want more. Don’t you?” I held my breath.
“We started out the wrong way,” she admitted.
There was nothing wrong about us. “The quickie in the bar?”
“All of it. The quickie, the conference room. Especially the camming.”
I set my hand on her shoulder, leaned in so we were eye level. “I’m CEO. I fix things. Help people. Giving you money does that. Why won’t you keep the money from the cam room? It was as much my fault as yours.”
“Because–”
Her cell rang and the moment was broken. She pulled back from my touch, went to see who it was. Picking it up from the counter beside the espresso machine, her shoulders slumped.
“Fuck,” she whispered.
I went to her instantly. “What’s the matter?”
It kept ringing.
“My father.” She swiped the screen and answered. “Hello.”
I could hear a male voice, but it was too soft to make out words.
I stepped back, grabbed one of the coffees that she made and leaned against the counter.
Her body language became tense. Her gaze was on her bare feet.
“Yes. Yes. No, I don’t need money. No. I’m not interested in anything Cheney has to say. That’s his problem. No. No, I wouldn’t want to upset Mother. Yes.”
She kept her eyes down as she ended the call and set the cell back on the counter.
I put my mug down, then wrapped my arms around her from behind. “Do I need to bury any bodies?”
A laugh shook her body. “No. Maybe.”
“What happened?”
Instead, I wanted to take this sudden sadness from her. To make things right so she was happy. Always happy. Taking care of Eve was something I wanted to do. Not out of obligation, but a Neanderthal need to protect.
She was more than sex. She was my woman, and her problems were mine to take on and solve.
“My father wondered if I had any luck with getting other financing. He knew… KNEW… I couldn’t get any other loan in town because he called the banks.”
I spun her around. Her hands settled on my bare chest, and I looked down into her sad eyes. Not angry, but sad. Resigned. Destroyed.
“Your father told the banks not to give you a loan?”
“Yes.” Tears welled, then slipped down her cheeks.
