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He walked into a walk-in closet that looked about the size of my living room. I sat up, holding the sheets to my still-naked body, and peered to where he was selecting a tie. After he found one he liked, a light blue with a paisley pattern, he sat down on the bed. The man was apparently a fox at all hours of the day, with maybe four hours of sleep. Seriously out of my league.
“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Brandon said as he looped a Windsor knot. “I have a meeting in Toronto at ten, so I have to get going. You should go back to sleep, stay until whenever. You could be here when I get back. Like this.”
He waggled his eyebrows, dimples on full display, and I giggled. His gaze roved openly, taking in all of the curves and parts of my body not covered by the sheet.
“You have incredible hair, you know that?”
I pulled a bedraggled lock off my shoulder and examined it critically. “Sure, sure. Like Carrot Top.”
Brandon batted my hand away.
“Stop,” he ordered. “It’s the color of a damn sunset. There are about a million different shades of red and yellow and orange in here.”
“All the color varieties of orange juice,” I proclaimed, but closed my mouth when Brandon frowned.
“I said stop,” he said. “Do you always have such a hard time taking compliments?”
I shrugged. “Well, I am a quarter Jewish.”
Brandon grabbed one of the goose-down pillows and swiftly whacked me in the head.
“Aaah!” I shrieked. “Youstop!”
He only whacked me again and then proceeded to reach under the sheets and tickle me mercilessly.
“No!” I yelled in between whoops of laughter. “That’s…not…fair!” I glanced at the clock again. It was almost six forty-five. “Aren’t you going to be late? What time is your flight?”
“Why, you wanna get rid of me?” Brandon quirked his mouth shyly as he sat back up and finished tugging the knot into place. “Don’t worry about it. The plane’s on standby at Logan.”
“Oh, the plane,” I echoed.
Brows furrowed, Brandon kissed me again gently.
“Skylar, I won’t make a big thing of it because I know it makes you uncomfortable—no,” he said when I opened my mouth to argue. “I know it does. All I’m saying is that while my wealth isn’t all of my life, itispart of it. I shouldn’t have to hide it.”
I stared at the sheets, flexing my toes up at the bottom to tent the covers. “I just don’t ever want you to think I like you for your money.”
Brandon squeezed my hand. “I think you’ve made that point pretty clear. I hear FLS got a really nice donation last week.”
I blushed and yanked the covers over my head. “I’m sorry,” I said from under my tent, though I wasn’t. Not really.
“You know, half the lawyers at Sterling Grove donate their time there.”
“I know. Kieran told me.”
“You could do the same if you worked for me too.”
I popped out. “I already turned that job down. I certainly can’t go back now that I’m sleeping with a freaking name partner.”
“Like there’s no nepotism at Harvard, land of the legacy student,” Brandon scoffed. “How many of your classmates have jobs waiting for them at Daddy’s firm?”
I didn’t need to answer; we both knew he was right.
“So, tell me, Red, what’s the difference between that and having your boyfriend set you up, huh?”
“Well, for one thing, no one says the partner’s son got there by sleeping with the boss!”
“Bah, no one’s going to want to get on the bad side of the boss’s girl,” he said with a dismissive wave. “No one would give a shit.”
