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I’m so pleased that I took her, and glad that she felt comfortable enough to open up a little to me. It was like she let her guard down, even if it was just a little.
I’m starting to see little signs that she might be wavering on the whole annulment thing, but it’s still too early to really say. Every time she talks, she says that she still wants to go ahead with it, but her body language, and the way she responds to me, tells me that she’s not being entirely honest with herself about her feelings.
I mean, how can she have such a good time with me, open up to me like that, and still think that what we have isn’t even worth giving a shot?
She’s sitting opposite me on the plane, sipping on soda water again, her beautiful eyes heavy-lidded.
It’s late—I need to be back at InFini in the morning, so we didn’t even get to stay the night in those ridiculously plush suites at the hotel.
“Are you about ready to crash?” I ask. “It’s been a long day, huh?”
She yawns. “Maybe. I’m so buzzed from it all that I don’t think I can, though. I mean, I still can’t believe you took me on a day trip to Paris. There in the morning, home at night. That’s just . . . nuts.”
“I would have loved for us to stay the night there, but I’ve got to be at work in the morning. I guess you could’ve stayed and I’d send the jet back for you, but—”
“No,” she interrupts. “No special treatment. I’m your PA and we work together. I’m sure you’ll need me in the morning.”
Forget about the morning, I need you right fucking now—but probably not in the way you have in mind.
Her hair is a little frazzled and she looks tired as hell, but she is still just utterly, drop-dead gorgeous. She rests her glass of soda water and tries to sleep, but she keeps jerking awake whenever her head droops.
There’s nothing I want more than to reach out and pull her into an embrace. I manage to hold myself back, but only for a few minutes.
I walk over and sit next to her, telling myself that I should back off but I just can’t. I want her too much. I need her too much.
“Thanks for today, Luke,” she says. “Really. And not just for the restaurant and the private jet. For . . . listening, you know? For being there.”
“Anytime, Tess, and I really mean that. I’m here for you.”
She rests her head on my shoulder and we spend the rest of the flight like that, just dozing and being with each other.
I can’t remember the last time I felt so . . . content. At peace.
A few short hours later, we’re standing outside her apartment.
It’s dark and a little chilly. She’s not really dressed for it, still in the dress from dinner. She shivers and wraps her arms around herself. We’re both sort of standing here awkwardly, neither wanting to make the first move to leave.
I’ve had such a good time with Tessa and I don’t want it to end. I want to follow her upstairs to her apartment and take her, claim her as my own.
But I’m not going to push her. She’s deciding this one, she’d made that much clear.
I guess I’ll just have to resign myself to that, which is kind of tough because I’m so accustomed to calling the shots in my life. Nobody tells me no. Ever. What I want, I get.
I’ve never wanted anything more than I want her right now. But it’s not up to me.
We’re staring into each other’s eyes, sparks flying . . . and eventually she breaks the spell.
“You’d better come up for some coffee,” she says. “I’d feel bad sending you home right now, so tired like this. I wouldn’t want you falling asleep at the wheel of that monstrosity. I’d be out of a job, for one thing, and I need the money.”
She grins at me and leads the way upstairs. My heart is pumping like I’m a horny teenager. I feel faintly ridiculous, but she really does have this effect on me.
Cool your jets, kid. She’s going to make you some coffee and send you on your way. Don’t get your hopes up.
We go into her apartment, where she makes some coffee while I perch on her couch and try my best not to think about pulling that dress off with my teeth, slipping my hand between her legs and . . .
Fuck. I’m hard already. Pull it together, dude.
She comes and sits next to me, smiling, and offers me a mug of dark, steaming coffee.
“Thanks,” I rasp. It’s about all I can manage.
The way her hair has fallen around her shoulders now she’s let it down, the way the dress is slipping just a little off her shoulder . . .
