Page 56 of Boss of Me
Maverick is silent, but I know he doesn’t believe me. I don’t blame him. Hiring Marlowe clearly conflicts with my rule against mixing business with pleasure. I knew that when I offered her the job, but it didn’t matter. I wanted her here with me, and nothing was going to stop me from making it happen.
“So now that you’ve got her under your roof,” Maverick drawls, “what’re you going to do about Laurene?”
I exhale a heavy breath. “I don’t know.”
“I think you do.”
In silence I watch Laurene emerge from the house, every strand of hair tucked into place, makeup flawless. She glides through the crowd, smiling and tinkling with laughter, supremely aware of the heads that turn as she passes.
She’s stunning. Dazzling. The belle of the ball.
And I’ve never wanted her less than I do at that very moment.
It’s not her fault, really. She’s the same woman I proposed to seven months ago. She hasn’t changed in any way.
But there’s only one woman I want right now, and no one else will do.
Chapter Thirteen
marlowe
Sometime after midnight, unable to sleep, I creep downstairs to the kitchen for a glass of water.
A few steps into the room, I pull up short.
The full moon shines through the windows, so bright I don’t need the light to see. What I see, unfortunately, is Gunner standing in front of the massive open refrigerator.
Shit!
I don’t want to deal with him, so I start backing slowly out of the room.
Suddenly he looks over his shoulder and sees me.
I freeze on the spot, unable to move.
He closes the fridge and turns slowly to face me. He’s shirtless and wearing black pajama bottoms that ride low on his hips, revealing the V of muscles that disappear below the silk waistband.
Holy hell, I think as lust twists my stomach into an almost painful knot. He has the body of a freaking gladiator. Wide,powerful shoulders for days. Hard, defined pecs like paving slabs. Six-pack abs I could do laundry on.
The man’s body is even hotter than I imagined. How is that possible?
“Hey.” His low voice rumbles like an expensive engine in the stillness of the room. “Couldn’t sleep?”
I bite my lip and shake my head.
His eyes sweep over me, burning my skin like a tactile touch. I suddenly feel naked in my Steelers nightshirt that stops midthigh.
I curl my toes into the tile. “I . . . I just came to get some water.”
He gestures lazily toward the fridge. “Don’t let me stop you.”
I hesitate. Every fiber of my being is warning me to bolt, but I force myself to cross the room and take a glass from the cabinet. As I fill it with filtered tap water from the sink, I can feel Gunner watching me.
The heat of his gaze sends prickles along my exposed flesh. I really wish I’d put on a robe before coming downstairs, but how was I supposed to know I’d run into my boss at this late hour? Why was he poking around the fridge anyway? Didn’t he get enough to eat at his lavish dinner party? God knows there was enough food to feed a small country.
Irritated by his presence and my chemical response to him, I drain my glass and fill it with more water that I gulp down in three swallows.
“Feeling a bit dehydrated?” His voice is a sardonic drawl. “Maybe you shouldn’t have imbibed so much champagne tonight.”
