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Rowan jumped, apparently unaware that he had joined her until now. He’d been standing right next to her chair with his coffee, waiting for her to notice. What had put that frown on her face? Him? Or the fund? Either way, he wanted to erase it. He needed to bring her smile back.
She looked up, then quickly away. “Just…sorting my thoughts.”
“Try not to worry about the fund. You’ll figure it out, and there’s nothing you can do until we get back.”
“I know. It’s hard not to think about it.”
He pulled a chair over next to hers and sat down. “You have a keen mind. Working with you has proven that to me. You’ll solve this.” She had proven herself an able and intuitive financial guru. He’d seen that first hand today as she’d held her own in their discussions and work. He admired her more now than he had before. Another dangerous trend for him.
“I hope you’re right.”
“I am. About that, at least.” He’d been thinking about her, about them, all day. They’d worked together so well on the proposal, again while cooking dinner, sitting across the table from her to eat, and even when he’d given her some time alone before joining her at the firepit. Like him, she worried about that bottom line, the self-designated point from which there was no coming back. She tried to hide it, but he saw the worry in the furrows of her brow, the tenseness of her body, and that vulnerability made him want her even more.
To hell with rules and pledges. He wanted this. Wanted to consume her, body and soul, and to be consumed by her right back. He was done fighting this itch he couldn’t get to go away. Taking the plunge, he reached for her hand and held it in his, running his thumb over the top of hers. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” He raised their hands, pulling her gaze toward them. “About this, I’m not so sure.”
Large, dark eyes stared at him for a long moment. “I am,” she finally said, then tugged him closer. Her lips touched his, one light kiss, then she paused.
“We’re about to break every rule I’ve set. I want this. I want you, us, together. But I need to hear the words. I need to know I’m not coercing you. That this is consensual.”
“I want this, too, but I need to know you won’t use this against me either.”
They paused, six inches separating him from lips he wanted to crush his mouth to. Until she drew back.
“Got your phone?”
Chapter Twelve
“My phone?”
“Yes.”
Gerard pulled it out of his pocket.
“Pull up a memo.” Rowan reached for hers as well.
What was she planning? A photo to commemorate the night? He opened his memo app and handed her the phone. She tapped the microphone and spoke into it.
“Tonight is July eighth, and it’s 9:30 p.m. I am Rowan McCarthy, and I am undertaking a one night stand that will include sexual relations with Gerard Barrett of my own free will. There has been no coercion on his part, and I fully accept responsibility for my acts.”
She tapped the button again and raised both eyebrows. “Acceptable?”
“More than acceptable. Above and beyond.” She’d done exactly what he needed without even being asked. God, he admired this woman.
She tapped her phone and held it out to him. Quid pro quo. He smiled, took it, and tapped the mic, using her words.
“Tonight is July eighth, and it’s 9:30 p.m. I am Gerard Barrett, and I am undertaking a one night stand that will include sexual relations with Rowan McCarthy of my own free will. I did not coerce her into this, nor will I use this in any way against her as an employee of my firm or beyond.”
He tapped the mic again to stop it and cocked his head. “We good?”
“We’re more than good.” She took her phone and tucked it into her pocket.
He did the same, then they stopped and stared at each other. “So we’re doing this?”
“I believe we are. At least, we will be if you’re ready to move closer.”
In answer, he got out of his chair and pulled her to her feet and into his arms. He tugged the hair band from her hair and smoothed his hand along the strands, fulfilling the first of many dreams. “I didn’t expect your hair to be so soft.”
“It’s untamable.”
