Page 83 of Seven Night Stopover

“The rest of today is room service, TV, and vegging-out day.”

“Are you sure? I’m feeling really energized. Maybe we should revise that sex-in-zero-gravity thing.”

He grinned. “It sounds like more trouble than it’s worth. I’ve decided I like gravity much better. It keeps me anchored between your legs whenever I want. I’m not messing with that dynamic.”

Her laughter drew an answering one from him. He’d slid his fingers through her hair and called her beautiful. She’d returned the gesture and called him a charming rogue.

They’d talked for hours after that, both silently agreeing to stay away from volatile subjects like saviors and ex-fiancées.

Besides cars, guitars had been his second love. He’d learnt everything there was to know about bass guitars before he’d turned eighteen. And given both his car and guitar collections to his younger brother who lived in Chicago when he moved from New York.

His closed expression as he’d said that had prevented her asking why.

She picked up her gold and cream mask and threaded the ivory plumed feathers through her fingers. There were parts of themselves they’d have to uncover eventually. If they stood a chance of attempting anything close to a healthy relationship, she needed to tell him what happened five years ago.

Her hands shook and she sucked in a breath. The bedside phone rang. She picked it up.

“Whose bright idea was it that we dress in separate hotels?” His voice rolled over her like a decadent dessert she couldn’t get enough of.

“It’s a masked ball, Noah. No point in making the effort if you know what I’m wearing.”

“I took you shopping yesterday. I already know what you’ll be wearing.”

She smiled. “Wrong. I chose three dresses, so you have a 33 percent chance of getting it right.”

“Sweetheart, every curve of your perfect body is imprinted on my brain. Picking you out of a crowd, mask or no mask, will be as easy as breathing.”

She didn’t doubt him. The amount of time he’d spent exploring her body in the last thirty-six hours made her face redden. “I feel a distinct sense of disparity as far as exploration is concerned.”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll give you the chance to address that injustice as soon as I sate my hunger for you. What underwear do you have on?” he demanded, his voice low and deep.

Heat flared across her skin. “White leather and lace thong. No bra.”

“No bra,” he repeated.

“I can’t wear one with my gown.”

“Damn.” His voice had grown lower, heavier. “Who’s driving you to the ball?”

“Bjorn’s picking me up in five minutes.”

He cursed again. “Make sure he keeps his hands to himself. Or you’ll feel mine on your ass.”

“Yes, Noah.”

He fell silent for several heartbeats. “You will say those two words to me every day, at least a dozen times.”

“What will I get in return?”

“Me. At your feet.”

She gasped. “Noah.”

“Hang up now, Leia, before I storm over there and put a big fucking hole in this evening’s plans.”

She hung up and dropped the phone on the bed. From the moment she laid eyes on him, Noah had set her emotions on overdrive. Now they were seriously threatening to spiral out ofcontrol. He dominated her with his presence, his words, his looks, his insatiable appetite.

In five short days, she’d become addicted to him. Wanted him in her life despite the caution that they might not survive full disclosure of her past. She loved his domination of her, loved losing her control to him.

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