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He stole the shoe and pitched it off the bed. “You know I have more worthy titles.” He really shouldn’t care what she thought, and one glance at her face and he knew she was only baiting him, except that particular title was random and meaningless. It didn’t take any talent, perseverance or goodness to win it. “That one is just about selling magazines,” he grumbled.
“I’m sure you can sell anything you put your name on, including satellite time.”
In one phone call he’d have a test case for that theory. He needed another million dollars to buy secure satellite time this month to prevent relief trucks in the sub-Saharan from being hijacked by warlords. “Can I sell you on a swim before breakfast?”
“I don’t have a suit.” She laughed. “Oh no, you’ve failed at the first objection.”
“The suite comes with a private pool.” He wiggled his brows at her. “Victory. No suits required.”
She flung her arm over her eyes but her mouth was all mirth. “This is not real. It’s only a dream.”
“You go with that if it makes you feel good,” he said, peppering kisses over her chest. “But I think you really want a swim.”
What she really wanted after he’d sold her on it was for him to make her come with his hand, in waist-high water, her breasts pressed against the glass wall of the suite’s private pool, forty-one floors above Sydney Harbour.
Any morning commuters with rubber necks and binocular eyes who happened to look across from office buildings or the bridge would’ve had a heck of a show.
In the shower, Teela returned the favor with her mouth and it was so good he wanted to put the morning on repeat. By the time they sat down to breakfast, he was reluctant to let her go and that had nothing to do with the boring day he had stretched out in front of him.
Teela Carpenter was indeed a secret weapon. She was sexy. She was giving. She expected absolutely nothing from him and that made him want her to expect more than one night of unlooked for passion. That had to be his hormones talking. His ego. Also he was a competitive bastard, and they hadn’t tried out every position and that was surely a broken promise.
Over eggs and bacon, he auditioned the idea of asking her to take the day off. And then consigned the concept to the wastepaper basket. He’d already broken his tried and tested rules for a one-night stand by waking up beside her, and they both had lives to get back to.
While he shaved, she dressed. He came back into the main room to find her checking messages on her phone and their role play from last night reversed. She was fully dressed, and he was down to briefs. Made his dick twitch. And given the workout he’d subjected it to in the last twelve hours, that was a triumph. Made her smile in a way that told him she was thinking what he was thinking.
“I had a great time with you, Teela. I’m sorry you had an accident.”
She waggled her head side to s
ide. “My poor car.”
“I’m not sorry it delivered you into my bed.” It would be OTT if he offered to take care of her repairs. Wouldn’t it?
Now she waggled a finger at him. “No. No. Buying me clothing because mine was ruined is one thing. My car is insured. I don’t need you buying me new headlights.”
He’d given a little too much of himself away in a night if she could read him that well. He put his hands up in surrender and she walked into his arms and slapped both palms on his ass. “But for a bingle, I’d have driven home high on my experience of meeting you and I’d never have known you have dimples above your arse.”
Arse, it sounded so much ruder. And out of Teela’s mouth it was dirty talk. Damn, he’d like to keep her around longer but that would sap the fun out of it.
“You look lovely. That dress suits you.”
“Thank you.” She looked down between them at her shoes. “Not sure if I’ll make it through the whole day in these though.”
“You win some.” He lifted her head with a finger to her chin and kissed her temple. “You lose some.” He slanted his mouth over hers and made it a last kiss to remember.
After that it was the business end of the transaction. He shoved his legs in jeans and called Rick to put Hassan on standby. Then he carried Teela’s laptop bag and the laundry bag the hotel had delivered with her now dry clothes in it to the elevator for her.
When she got in, she faced him, ready to take on her day. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Delany. Good luck becoming a statesman.”
“Nice to meet you too, Miss. Carpenter.” He put his foot in the door to hold it open. “I know your business will be a success. But you deserve some fun, so cut yourself some slack now and then.”
“I’ll think about it.”
He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips and the elevator started complaining, forcing him to step back, rubbing his mouth because he didn’t know what kind of smile to give her.
He had a routine for these kinds of goodbyes and it didn’t include regret. It didn’t include standing alone in the lift well and looking at his blurred reflection in the closed elevator doors either.
FIVE
