Page 43 of Coldhearted King

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

COLE

Jonathan pulls the car up outside Delilah’s apartment building, where she’s waiting. She barely has time to pick up the bag at her feet before he’s out of the driver’s seat to take it off her and open the rear door for her. She smiles at him, then slides in to sit opposite me. I drink her in a little too avariciously. Her long dark hair is tied back in a ponytail. The green V-neck shirt she’s wearing deepens the color of her eyes, and her jeans fit like a second skin. It’s all very suitable for attending a future building site, and yet it’s still as sexy as hell on her.

Her gaze flits over me, probably taking stock of my clothing as well since this is the first time she’s seen me dressed casually. I hide my smile as she takes in my fitted gray T-shirt and jeans, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

Realizing she’s been staring a little too long, her eyes dart to mine, then out the window, a slight blush warming her cheeks.

“Did you purchase a dress?” I ask, forcing her to make eye contact with me again.

“Yes. And thank you for arranging a card for me to use. I gave it back to Samson on Wednesday.”

I nod. Samson had returned it to me immediately after she’d dropped it off, looking just as curious as when I asked him to take it down to her in the first place. He knows better than to ask any questions though. The truth is, I didn’t have a good reason for giving her my personal card to use, except that the idea of her wearing a dress I bought for her, even if she’s not aware of it, appeals a little too much.

We pass the rest of the drive to the airport in silence. I answer emails on my phone, including one from Roman that has me firing off a reply straight away. Rumors that Berrington is considering pulling his investments are circulating again. We’ll need to meet and discuss how to handle it when I return to New York on Saturday.

After I finish replying to my urgent emails, my focus returns to the woman across from me. Delilah has her tablet open and she’s making quick, efficient marks on the screen with a stylus.

I watch her for a few moments, admiring the curve of her cheek and the fullness of her pink lips. A vision of those lips wrapped around me soon invades my mind, and I turn away, spending the rest of the trip looking out the window and thinking.

I need to restrain myself around her. Yes, I want to fuck her again. I’d be more than happy to spend every minute of our spare time in Chicago in bed with her. But I told the truth when I said I wasn’t inviting her for that reason. In a rare moment of conscience, I realized she might not be in the headspace to spend all night fucking her boss. Not so soon after Paul’s betrayal, anyway. And considering her reaction to me after what happened in my office, it’s obvious she isn’t comfortable with the idea of casual sex, despite what happened when we originally met.

I doubt I could sleep with her tonight and then send her on her way. I respect Delilah as a professional and I want to explore her body for as long as it takes to get her out of my system, but I don’t want to get involved in anything that will be hard to extricate myself from, and I get the feeling it would be hard to extricate myself from her. I want more time with her, even though I’ve already had her once, which means she’s piqued my interest more than any other woman I’ve been with. And that’s not something I’m comfortable with.

Even knowing all that, it’s hard to resist the urge to touch her when she’s so close. I curl my fingers around my phone to stop myself from doing anything stupid.

When we get to the airport, Jonathan drives us to the private airfield where the company jet shines bright white in the sunshine.

Delilah peers out the window, then turns to me. “This is an upgrade from what I’m used to.”

“Not having to fly commercial is definitely a perk.”

She quirks a brow. “Have you ever flown commercial?”

“Only first class.”

“You mean you’ve never experienced the thrill of fighting for overhead luggage space or dealing with the person next to you who doesn’t believe in personal boundaries?”

“No. Only the joys of massage chairs and a fully stocked bar.”

I don’t miss the little eye roll she gives before turning away, and I let a smile slip out. I bet she won’t be rolling her eyes once she gets a look inside the jet.

I follow her up the stairs, my eyes fixed on her ass in those tight jeans, and almost bump into her when she stops inside the door. She turns to look at me with her mouth open and I actually laugh. It’s impressive—all pale carpet, cream leather, and wood accents.

The flight attendant, Marigold, stands to the side with a wide smile on her face. It broadens when her gaze lands on me. “Good morning, Mr. King. It’s nice to see you again.” The familiarity and suggestion in her tone has Delilah‘s gaze bouncing between Marigold and me.

Despite what Delilah is obviously thinking, I haven’t slept with her. She’s made it known she’s up for it, but I’m not interested in seeing a woman I’ve had sex with every time I need to fly somewhere. I just give her a polite good morning and usher Delilah through to the seating area with a hand on her back.

She sits down in one of the leather window seats and buckles herself in, doing her best to avoid my gaze. Small, bright patches burn on her cheeks, and I wonder if they’re from anger or embarrassment.

I’m looking forward to finding out.

Even though there are several seats available, I buckle myself in opposite her. The jet is spacious, but our legs are still within touching distance. Delilah looks over at me, then out the window, and I rub my hand over my mouth to hide my smile.

Now that we’re on board, the engines start to warm up. Marigold appears at my side, putting her hand on my shoulder. “What can I get you to drink, Mr. King?”

I glance up at her. “Just a tonic and lime this morning.”

---