major turn-on.
And God, I loved the way he looked with his hair tied back. And the flex of his muscles beneath lightly tanned skin. And the graceful power of his movements.
Seeing such an elegantly urbane man shed the suits and show off his animal side hit al my hot buttons.
I couldn’t stop staring and was happy I didn’t have to. He was mine, after al ; a fact that sent warm pleasure sliding through me. Besides, every other woman in the gym was checking him out, too. As he moved from station to station, dozens of admiring eyes fol owed.
When he caught me ogling, I shot him a suggestive glance and ran my tongue along my lower lip. His arched brow and rueful half-smile made me tingly. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so motivated while working out. An hour and a half just flew by.
By the time we got back in the Bentley and headed to the penthouse, I was squirming in my seat. My gaze slid repeatedly to Gideon in silent invitation.
He linked his fingers with mine. “You’l wait for it.” That pronouncement startled me.
“You heard me.” He kissed my fingers and had the nerve to give me a wicked smile. “Delayed gratification, angel.”
“Why would we do that?”
“Think of how crazed we’l be for each other after dinner.”
I leaned closer so Angus didn’t overhear me, although I knew he was professional enough to ignore us. “That’s a given, waiting or not. I say we go with not.” But he wouldn’t budge. Instead, he tortured us both.
Having us undress one another for a steamy shower, our hands petting and caressing the curves and hol ows of each other’s bodies; then dressing for dinner. He went al out in black tie, but skipped the tie.
His crisp white shirt was unbuttoned at the col ar, revealing a flash of skin. The cocktail dress he selected for me was a champagne silk Vera Wang with a strapless bustier bodice, an open back, and a tiered skirt that ended a few inches above my knees.
I smiled when I saw it, knowing it was going to drive him nuts seeing me in that dress al night. It was gorgeous and I loved it, but it was a style meant for tal , slender models, not short curvy girls. In a pitiful bid for modesty, I left my hair down to hang over my breasts, but it didn’t help much if Gideon’s expression was any indication.
“My God, Eva.” He adjusted himself in his slacks.
“I’ve changed my mind about that dress. You shouldn’t wear it in public.”
“We don’t have time for you to change your mind.”
“I thought there was more material than that.” I shrugged with a grin. “What can I say? You bought it.”
“I’m having second thoughts. How long could it possibly take to remove it?”
Sliding my tongue along my lower lip, I said, “I don’t know. Why don’t you find out?”
His eyes turned dark. “We’d never get out of here.”
“I wouldn’t complain.” He looked so damn hot and I wanted him—as always—real y damned bad.
“Isn’t there a jacket or something you can put over that? A parka, maybe? Or a trench coat?” Laughing, I grabbed my clutch off the dresser and wrapped my arm around his. “Don’t worry. Everyone wil be too busy checking you out to even bother noticing me.”
He scowled as I tugged him out of the bedroom.
“Seriously. Have your tits gotten bigger? They’re spil ing out over the top of that thing.”
“I’m twenty-four years old, Gideon,” I said dryly. “I stopped developing years ago. What you see is what you get.”
“Yes, but I’m the only one who’s supposed to be seeing, since I’m the only one who’s al owed to be getting.”
We moved into the living room. In the short time it took us to pass through to the foyer, I relished the quiet beauty of Gideon’s home. I loved how warm and inviting it was. The old world charm of the decor was so elegant, yet it was also remarkably comfortable.
The stunning view out of the arched windows complemented the interior, but didn’t distract from it.
The mixture of dark woods, distressed stone, warm colors, and vivid jeweled accents was clearly expensive, as was the art hung on the wal s, but it was a tasteful display of wealth. I couldn’t imagine anyone feeling awkward about what to touch or where to sit. It just wasn’t that kind of space.
We caught the private elevator and Gideon faced me as the doors closed. He immediately tried tugging my bodice up.
“If you’re not careful,” I warned, “you’l expose my crotch instead.”
“Damn it.”
“We could have fun with this. I could play the role of a bubbleheaded blond bimbo who’s after your cock and your mil ions, and you can be yourself—the bil ionaire playboy with his latest toy. Just look bored and indulgent while I rub up against you and coo about how bril iant you are.”
“That’s not funny.” Then he brightened. “What about
a scarf?”
