Page 52 of Heart of Stone

But I’d be damned if I’d give her up.

Chapter Twenty One

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered as I helped her into the passenger seat. “It was a mistake.”

I wanted to laugh, but I held it in, not wanting to embarrass her. “It’s fine, Rachel.”

“But you said we need to be vigilant at all times,” she insisted. “I amnotvigilant right now.”

“No, you’re drunk.” I laughed. “But like I said, it’s fine.”

She looked offended as she tucked her long legs into the Range Rover, her natural grace fighting against the wobbliness brought on from the wine. “Drunk is a strong word. I’m tipsy, at best.”

“Different words for the same thing,” I told her as I climbed into the other side, tipping the valet and merging into traffic.

Rachel managed to get her seatbelt down and fell back in the seat with a thud, her eyes narrowed at the city outside the car. “I meant to take half the bottle home, I swear.”

“I don’t think either of us planned to stay for almost three hours,” I conceded, and Rachel shrugged one shoulder.

“The cake was worth it though.”

“You’ll get no argument out of me, sweetheart.”

I’d never say anything to her, knowing that she was mortified as it was, but her getting drunk wasn’t ideal. Inebriated people don’t follow directions well, and sometimes my clients’ lives depend on how quickly and accurately they can do as I say. Right now, the best plan for me was to get her back to the hotel room where there was only one point of entrance, and let her sleep it off.

Professionally, it was a stupid move for me to let her drink. As a man, I couldn’t help but find her adorable with her flushed cheeks and the way she leaned into me as we walked, both arms wrapped around one of my own. Not for balance, as she wasn’t nearly that intoxicated, but because she wanted to be close to me. The feeling was very, very mutual.

“I’m not drunk,” she reiterated out of nowhere. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

“Of course you’re not.”

She clung to me again after we arrived, somehow still perfectly balanced on her heels, gushing about what a good time she had. I had to shoot down multiple suggestions to go out for an after-dinner drink, or a swim in the hotel pool, but eventually we were safely back inside our suite and I could breathe again.

The only problem now was that we were in the room without anything else to focus on, and the feelings that I had been trying to push to the side were all the more obvious. A few days ago, there had been clear lust, and a burgeoning friendship, but it had taken almost no time for those things to morph into something astronomically more significant. The word skated across my consciousness, but I didn’t acknowledge it. Not here. Not Yet.

Rachel kicked her shoes off, one landing on the dresser next to the television and the other by the front door, sighing as she stretched her arms above her head. “Now that we’re back, I’m actually pretty tired.”

“Could that be because we’ve been going non-stop since six a.m.?” I asked sarcastically, and while she was not completely drunk, she was tipsy enough to miss the sarcasm.

“I guess so. Are you tired?”

I wasn’t. I was wide awake, bouncing between the thoughts of my hands between her legs at the library and falling for her over dinner, but I couldn’t tell her that. “Exhausted.”

She nibbled at her bottom lip, looking everywhere but at me before she seemed to come to a decision. “Would you want to sleep in the bed tonight with me? Not like—sleepsleep with me. Like actually sleeping.”

Could I handle that? I was pretty sure that I had enough willpower to turn down any alcohol-induced advances, but it would have me even more twisted up inside than I was now. I was smitten, horny, and desperately in need of a cold shower.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart,” I told her gently.

She looked crestfallen, but shook it off. “That’s alright. I just thought it might be a nice end to the best day we’ve had together so far.”

Damn this woman. “I can give you a little bit of time, but I can’t stay all night, alright?”

“Okay!” She brightened, brushing my bicep with her fingers as she passed me on the way to the bathroom. My skin tingled in the absence of her touch.

Rachel had taken to wearing my t-shirts to sleep in, and while they fell nearly to her knees, displaying nothing that could be considered scandalous, seeing her inmyclothes stroked my ego like nothing else. It made part of my mind, the part that might be more at home living in the jungle, insist,Mine. She’s mine.

Tonight, seeing her in my shirt was almost too much. I was harder than steel as she walked past me languorously, hips swaying, smelling of peaches and mint, her face bare and glowing now that she’d washed off her makeup.

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