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He thrust both his hands in his hair, glaring at her incredulously. “I’m not mad at you. Jesus.” He threw his hands into the air, gesturing at the ceiling. “You’ve been put into a shitty situation, Stasia, dealt a really bad hand, yet you won’t give up. You keep coming at it and coming at it, turned down at your every single move. Don’t give up now, not while you’re so close.”
“I’m not close. I’m back at square one.” She wrapped her arms around herself, ran her hands up and down her bare arms. She wore a simple red cotton sundress held up by skimpy straps, one of them drooping off her shoulder, revealing that she wore no bra. He hated that his thoughts went there. Straight to deliciously intimate images, his mouth pressed against that beautiful shoulder, his hand beneath the front of her dress, cupping her supple flesh, his thumb rubbing against her hard nipple…
“If you think like you’re defeated, you’ll believe it,” he said, shoving the lurid thoughts from his brain. She was consumed with sadness, left vulnerable by all the wrongs done to her. And it wasn’t fair, it really wasn’t, how much he wanted to take advantage of that vulnerability and offer his comfort, which he had a feeling would be welcomed.
He was a complete shit for even thinking it.
“She blames me,” Stasia whispered. “She looks at me and I’m the reminder of her past indiscretions. I’m nothing but a mistake in her eyes.”
Damn it, that was it. She couldn’t keep thinking like this, talking like this. He had to put a stop to the pity party now.
He went to her, stopping just behind her chair. Her bare shoulders beckoned, her bent head causing her hair to spill forward, revealing a slice of her neck. That beckoned as well, twisted up his insides, made him want to press his mouth there. Whisper words of comfort as he drew her into his arms. Those words would slowly change, become heated as he described what he wanted to do to her, with her, for her…
“I need a good night’s rest, I’m sure.” She glanced at him from over her shoulder, a tremulous smile curving her lips. “It’ll all be better in the morning, no?”
No. But he wasn’t about to disagree. Whatever she needed to do to gain back some of that strength he’d glimpsed only a few hours ago, she should do it. “Sure.” He stepped back, helped pull out her chair and she stood. So close, he could smell her, sweetly floral, her wavy hair a little wild about her face.
“Thank you.” She took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. He dropped his gaze to her breasts, noted how full they were, how her nipples were the slightest bit hard and pushing against the thin fabric of her dress. “I appreciate you not mocking me for being so upset.”
“I would never mock you, Stasia.”
She sent him a skeptical look and he chuckled, glad they were over the earlier constant arguing. It was—pleasant, spending time with her.
More than pleasant.
“Tomorrow, I’ll approach her again,” she said with a firm nod. “She needs to know she can’t ignore me forever.”
“That a girl,” he murmured, glad to see the stiffening of her spine, the hint of fire flare in her gaze once more.
Another shaky smile appeared as she leaned in, stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his cheek. “Thank you, Gavin.”
His skin tingled where her lips touched, his entire body stiff with want. That kiss, however brief, was unexpected. Unwarranted.
But definitely wanted.
“You’re welcome,” he murmured, more than a little dazed.
Stasia stepped away from Gavin, shock coursing through her over what she’d done. It was a mere kiss on the cheek, no big deal, but he was her lawyer. The lawyer who didn’t care for her much, the man who seemed to look at her with thinly veiled disgust all the time. He was the consummate professional who wouldn’t allow his personal feelings to compromise his representation of her.
And she went ahead and kissed him like a fool. The feel of his skin beneath her lips still lingered, the sharp inhalation of breath she’d heard him make when she’d done it. Was he shocked, disgusted, horrified by her impulsive actions?
“Well.” She clasped her hands together to stop them from trembling. “Good night, then.”
He locked his gaze with hers, unreadable and dare she say it, forbidden. What was he thinking? Did he feel it too? The chemistry that seemed to jump and crackle between them every time they drew too close to each other? Or was it all one-sided?
Only moments ago she’d been full of despair over her mother, so easily allowing everything that had happened take her under. It was always easier to fall into sadness. Being strong and determined was much, much harder.
Now it was as if she’d forgotten all of her troubles. She could only think of this man, clad in jeans and a white button-up shirt, his hair slightly wavy at the ends, as if he hadn’t taken much care with it after he stepped out of the shower. She could imagine wrapping herself around him, testing the softness of his dark hair with her fingers, her lips whispering over his skin, his husky groans of approval as she deftly undid every single button of his shirt…
“’Night.” He smiled, but it was almost menacing. Darkly sexy. Not friendly or neutral as his past smiles had been, the sight of it touched something deep within her. Caused the sensation to unfurl slowly, wind its way through her limbs, flooding her veins, making her body languid, heavy.
Desire. Undeniable. Ridiculous to pursue. She wanted him. She’d wanted him from the moment she first saw him if she was being honest. He wasn’t what he appeared to be. That smooth, unruffled veneer hid a man who kept everything pinned up. He was in control at all times.
For once she wanted to see him completely and utterly out of control.
Deciding it best, she turned from him first and headed toward the hall that led to her bedroom. She felt his gaze upon her. Her skin sizzled as if he’d physically touched her and she put an extra sway in her step, enjoying the sensation of her skirt sliding over her bare bottom. She wore a thong and no bra, quite liberating from her normal choice of undergarments, but there was something about returning to the villa that allowed her certain liberties and freedoms.
Like dressing scandalously in front of her attorney. Just the thought of how easy he could’ve disposed of her simple sundress made her cheeks heat. One tug and her breasts would’ve been exposed. One large, capable hand sliding beneath her skirt could’ve discovered how easily accessible she was for him.
