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“You’re sure, Waverley?” he asked.
In answer, she slipped her hands under the bottom of his tee shirt and pulled it up and over his head. He tossed the shirt to the floor behind him, his gaze only on her as she licked her lips and stared at his chest.
He groaned. “You’re going to kill me, Waverley. Slowly kill me.”
She grinned, her face brightening with excitement, happiness, and untapped passion.
Then she reached out and touched his chest. Instantly he sucked in the air and clenched against the onslaught of her hands as they spread out, torturing him with her curiosity, until he couldn’t take it anymore, and he pulled her against him, then slowly lowered her to the bed.
Because it was his turn. And he was not a patient man.
Chapter 21
The pressure of another body sitting on the bed brought Waverley slowly from sleep, and she rolled toward the figure and opened her eyes.
“Morning,” Reynolds said as he held out two more ibuprofen and a glass of water. “Thought you might need these.”
She sat up, aware of the dull ache around her left cheekbone that had become more persistent. “Thanks,” she said, wincing as she spoke and took the pills from him.
He looked and smelled intoxicating, making it hard to slip the pills into her mouth under his studied gaze. Especially as, in the light of morning, she was remembering all the things they’d done together, the emotions she’d felt, and the sensation of feeling loved as he held her.
Washing the pills down, she peered at him over the rim of the glass, admiring the freshly shaven jawline that revealed the rough edges of his handsome face, thick dark hair that was still damp and wavy from his shower, and the sinfully dark eyes that stared at her with the memory of what they’d done a few hours before. A rush of lust and affection rushed through her.
If she were a braver woman, she might run her hand along his jawline and lean in to kiss those lips that had brought her immeasurable pleasure last night. But seeing as how she had no idea how terrible her hair looked or how ghastly her morning breath might be, there was no chance she would take that risk.
Not to mention, she was feeling a new sense of awkwardness that probably had something to do with the fact he’d seen her naked a few hours before.
“I’m going to head down and gauge how everyone is feeling after last night,” he said casually, without a trace of the awkwardness she was feeling. Men. “Can I get you anything before I go?”
There were a lot of things she could think of he could give her, but that was not something she would say out loud.
“I’m good. Have you heard anything more about Spencer?”
“Afraid not. My friends at the FBI are convinced that he’s fled the area.”
She tried not to feel deflated by this news. She’d had such hope that they were going to find Spencer and, in turn, recover the money he’d taken that to imagine their efforts were going to be for naught was disheartening.
“Before we go down, though, what’s our plan?” she asked. “I mean, if Spencer recognized you, he’s bound to have mentioned that to Ronnie.”
He nodded. “That is if Ronnie was his point of contact. But we have an advantage. If he or anyone else lets on to knowing who I am, it will prove they’ve been in recent contact with Spencer.” He looked at his watch. “If we’re lucky, maybe we’ll have our answer to who his contact is before we leave for our flight in a couple of hours and they’ll know where we can find him.”
He stood as though ready to go but paused. “Waverley. About last night…” He scratched the back of his head, taking forever to say whatever he had to say. “I hope you’re okay with everything. That I didn’t step over any boundaries. Because that was not my intention.”
“Boundaries?”
“As in technically I’m your boss and you’re technically also my client, which means I just broke two rules I set out for myself when I started this business. It wasn’t very professional.”
Professional? No, what they did last night hadn’t been professional, but that had been as far from her thoughts then as it was now. But it obviously wasn’t for him.
She spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. “Last night was…incredible.” At least it had been for her. “Your professionalism was not and is not an issue for me.” She tried to smile, to bring back some lightness to the conversation since he was acting almost guilty.
He nodded. “Good. I just— Never mind. I’ll see you down there,” he said and strode to the door and disappeared.
She sat there baffled for a moment. So it wasn’t exactly the most romantic ending to their night. But this was Reynolds. A man of few words. A man who always pondered every decision and all the implications before taking decisive action. A man who seemed to have done something that he hadn’t thought all the way out and who might very well be doubting that decision.
No, don’t overthink this, Waverley.
Last night wasn’t about any big declarations of love or affection or promises of a future. It was about him showing her that she was a desirable, beautiful woman who was very much wanted.
