He took a cleansing breath, determined to shake off his unsettled feelings. He just needed to get through the next few hours until they announced the winner. Then he’d deal with whatever had happened. And for now, perhaps it was best to focus on his next challenge: facing Astrid and whatever maddening dress she’d chosen for tonight.
He opened the door to his room and strode out into the central living area of their suite. He wasn’t the type to pace, but he found himself doing exactly that, thinking about Astrid in her room...wondering what state of dress, or undress, she might be in. He swallowed hard, realizing what an additional test this would be, spending the evening with Astrid when he was admittedly already weak. It was creating a whole new layer of trepidation within him, one that he felt physically. Yes, she was there for moral support. Nothing else. But if he was being honest, he wanted more.
For the time being, he needed a drink to soothe his ragged edges. He should have taken Astrid’s suggestion that they open the champagne an hour ago, but he hadn’t. He’d made the excuse that it was for celebrating, when in reality he saw it as too romantic. Now, he could easily imagine the repercussions of opening it without her. She’d be mad. So instead, he went for a bottle of good bourbon from the well-stocked bar. Clay unscrewed the top and poured a healthy dose into a cut crystal glass. It was nearly to his lips when he heard Astrid’s door open behind him. He turned, and the instant he saw her, the only logical reaction was to toss back his drink. The whole thing. One gulp.
“Thirsty?” Astrid asked.
He nodded eagerly, unable to peel his eyes from the vision of her. She was nothing short of pure elegance in a deep blue dress that showed off her beauty in a way that nothing she’d ever worn to work could possibly do. The gown clung to her upper arms, flaunting her sculpted shoulders and dewy skin. The neckline was understated, but dipped low enough to drive him crazy, accentuating the swell of her bust. It took too little effort for his mind to sketch in the hidden details of her breasts, the fullness and what they might feel like in his hands. Her long and graceful neck was adorned with a single gleaming gem in a square cut hanging from a chain.
“Is that a diamond?” he asked, fighting for his voice to reach full volume.
Her slender fingers found the stone. Something about seeing her touch herself made the tension in his hips grow even tighter. “It is. It was a gift from Johnathon. I couldn’t bear to part with it, even after the divorce.”
There was the reminder of just how intertwined Clay and Astrid were—she and his sister had been married to the same man. Astrid owned a chunk of the company he worked for. There were a million reasons to not feel the way he did about her, but there seemed to be just as many thinly veiled excuses to pick her up and take her back into the bedroom right now. His dream might be waiting downstairs in the hotel ballroom, but it also felt like it was standing right in front of him.
Get your head on straight.
“It’s beautiful.” He poured himself another drink and downed it just as fast. The burn was vicious, and he knew that he deserved it for the things that were going through his head right now. “Can I make you a drink? Or we could open the champagne if you really want to.”
“I’ll take one of whatever you’re having.” She floated closer to him, bringing along his first real breath of her perfume. It was warm and sweet, just like her. “You were right. We should save the champagne for after the ceremony. To celebrate your achievement.”
“Stop saying that.”
She took one more step, closing the gap between them. She smoothed the lapel of his jacket, while all he could do was stare down at her hand on his chest and fight the wish that he wasn’t wearing this suit and her dress was puddled on the floor. “I believe in the power of positive thinking. You’re brilliant and talented. The rest will work itself out.”
It was a mystery how she could have so much confidence in him when she’d only known him for a few months. He’d had to live with himself for thirty-five years and he wasn’t convinced of anything she was saying. “But the decision has already been made. Somewhere downstairs in the hotel ballroom is an envelope with a name on it that might not be mine.”
She peered up at him, her impossibly warm eyes flickering with optimism. “Positive thinking, Clay. Only good thoughts.” She patted his chest, then looked away. “Now, where’s my drink?”
“Oh. Right.” Clay felt as though half of his brain had suddenly decided to take the night off. He grabbed a second glass and poured a splash of bourbon for her.
Meanwhile, Astrid traipsed over to the end table next to one of the sofas and picked up the house phone. “Yes. Hello. We have a bottle of champagne in our room that needs fresh ice.” She grinned at him, her whole face lighting up with a hint of mischief. “We’re going to be celebrating later this evening and it would be a shame if it had gone warm.”
He was so drawn to her right now, it was comical. If only she knew she could ask him for anything and he would give it to her without reservation. “Thank you for doing that,” he said as she ended the call. “I’m sorry I didn’t want to open the bottle earlier.”
“I understand you’re feeling superstitious.
