Chapter Four
Daisy popped a red Skittle into her mouth, which hung open. “What?”
Zan dropped to the ground, his butt hit the dirt floor, and he patted the space between his legs, hauling the blanket around him. It wasn’t lost on him that she’d dropped the Alexander and called him Zan.
Her eyes widened. “Are you out of your mind?”
He shook his head. “Not in my plans, either.”
That’s for sure.
Being separated by nylon board shorts, her white bikini, and a matching white T-shirt that clung to her body, outlining her waist, curvy hips, and ended below her lush butt, would be torture. But with only one blanket between them, they’d have to share.
His gaze flew to her mouth where she maneuvered the candy around her lips with her tongue. He remembered those lips. Remembered the taste of crisp, dry champagne, their tongues touching. He remembered the way she fit into his arms, how she’d melted into him before those large chocolate eyes had widened behind her mask and she’d bolted.
He’d spent many hours dreaming of those lips and that body. And here she was—the walking, talking enemy. Actually, if she didn’t talk at all, she’d be okay.
She arched a dark brow. “Earth to bachelor of the year. Are you still in the room?”
God, he hated that title and gave his brothers shit that they’d secretly entered him in some men’s magazine competition. He never won—probably because he refused to do any of the promotion because he hated the idea, the show, and everything associated with being singled out for what DNA had been passed to you.
His gaze again moved to her lips, her lovely dark eyes, her head tilted to the side assessing him. He was acting like a whipped teen and not the CEO of one of the biggest hotel chains in the country. This woman had the ability to wipe his head clean of thought. He’d talked to heads of state, foreign dignitaries, and Victoria’s Secret models straight off the catwalk, and he’d never been thrown like the way Daisy could throw him off his game, with an innocent gesture of outlining her mouth with candy.
“I was thinking of our strategy for tomorrow. Figuring you out.” He ripped his gaze away from her mouth. She was going to start to believe he had a fetish for her mouth, which he did, but she didn’t need to know.
“Ha, too funny.” She sucked the candy into her mouth with a pop. “I’ll sit over on the chair.” She walked to an old wooden chair and sat, pulling her feet up, her teeth chattering.
He willed his blood pressure not to spike. “Do we have to fight about this? Nothing will happen here.”
Her eyes flared. “Of course nothing will happen.”
The light started to fade as rain lashed the windows. Her teeth chattered louder.
Was nothing simple with this woman? “Do I have to throw you over my shoulder?” He stood.
They were stranded, and they’d both be freezing soon. There was one blanket, and this conversation was now done.
Her head shot back, and he couldn’t help admiring the smooth column of her neck which was turning red. “You wouldn’t dare.” Her teeth chattering so loudly it was hard to make out what she was saying.
Now he had her full attention.
“We’re going to be here all night, both of us are freezing.”
Besides, I want to know everything about you before I become your boss.
Her jaw tensed, but she stood, snagged the Skittles, and slid between his legs, holding her body stiff.
He wrapped her in the blanket. “Tonight isn’t about our families or the Levi deal. We’re two people stuck in a storm, keeping warm until the weather passes over. Passing the time, having an honest, no bullshit conversation. Deal?”
After a few paralyzing seconds, she said, “Deal,” then leaned back into him, started sorting through the Skittle bag, paused, and turned her head. “Did you say phosphorous?”
“Must be hearing things.”
Yeah, he had, because human biology was what it was, and having a beautiful woman who smelled of candy pressed against his front he was losing a battle so he’d spend the night mentally reciting the periodic table. He shifted back slightly to give the tent in the front of his pants room. Not usually a candy guy, but his stomach growled. “Any green ones?”
She fished a handful of green Skittles and handed them over.
“Is red your favorite color or flavor?” Lime exploded in his mouth.
“Flavor.”
“What about when you’re getting ready for a date?”
He held his breath, the image of Daisy in a red silk dress that slithered over her body, hugging her hips like a lover before falling to her ankle. A pair of matching stilettoes on her feet. Bubblegum lip gloss on her mouth. No bra, only a red thong.
He shuffled backward.
“Depends on where we’re going. My last date was in an ice-cream shop.” She shook her head. “DanTheMan007 looked twelve.”
He shuddered. “I couldn’t imagine anything worse than putting yourself out there online.”
Chewing candy, she shuffled back against him. “Well, looking the way you do, I don’t see you’d have to.”
What? The woman had an understated beauty about her. It wasn’t your typical movie-star looks, but something that went deeper, something natural that drew him.
“It’s hard to meet people, so yeah, online dating for me usually ends in a disaster, but I’m hopeful.”
The wind rattled the roof. She shivered, and he pulled her closer.
“One day you want to do the whole settle down thing, kids?” Just saying those words made his teeth ache.
“Yeah.” She relaxed further against him. “Leaving carrots out for the reindeer, and a beer for Santa at Christmas. Waiting for the kids to run into the bedroom in the morning.”
“Is that what you had growing up?”
He could hear the smile in her voice. “I used to think it was corny, now I believe it was pretty unique.”
That wasn’t Christmas Day at the Gillards. His dad spent the day with whatever wife he was married to. He spent the day with either of his brothers. Both their moms were awesome and took him in willingly. His mom had bailed when the marriage ended, leaving him with dear old dad whose life was chasing a skirt.
Daisy twisted around to look at him, her face unguarded, her hair a mass of curls. She was breathtakingly lovely. A shy smile on her face as she hunted through the bag of candy and handed him a red skittle. “Do you see the whole kid thing in your future?”
“Hell no. Marriage is hard on kids when it fails. Besides, I don’t do relationships. My father is on wife number seven. My brothers aren’t batting a hundred.”
“What does that mean, ‘I don’t do relationships?’” She flicked a piece of candy from her T-shirt. “That sounds like ‘it’s not you, it’s me.’ The line every girl longs to here.”
He caught her eye roll.
He shrugged. “I’m not interested in the whole settling down thing.”
It was as complicated as it was easy to explain. Apart from his brothers, he was a loner. He liked the company of women, but had never had a wow moment. He never led any of them on with false promises. He dated, but he was upfront about not being there for the long-term.
“So you see yourself at eighty still punching out the money, on your own?”
Like his grandfather, he probably would. He scratched his head. “Probably. I haven’t thought that far ahead.” He paused. “Have all your relationships ended well?”
“No, but I’m hopeful of landing a keeper.”
Two people headed in opposite directions.
His mind flew to Brayden who wouldn’t talk about some girl, but he’d taken unusual time off and come back to the office looking like shit. He had a mental note to hit the basketball court at work when he got back and hash what was going on with his youngest brother. The love for his scarred brother burned straight through to his soul. If someone hurt Brayden, Zan would hunt them down.
“I don’t think all relationships are hearts and flowers. But if you bail at the first hurdle, how do you know if you’d sail over that hurdle and probably a few more thrown in?”
He shook his head. “Do you have a unicorn in your backyard?”
She chuckled. “I do, her name is Sunshine, and she lives on hopes and dreams.” She fiddled with the edge of the blanket. “Do you travel a lot?” She turned and burrowed into his chest, her flesh soft against hard muscle.
He fought not to pull away. “Yeah. I love the freedom of the next acquisition, but it’s the cut and thrust of the business that drives me. The next big deal, way more than any relationship.”
“So, no hanging around watching The Bachelor and kicking back?”
“Christ, no. If I’ve got down time, I usually hit the court with my brothers for some basketball or volunteer at the Boys and Girls Club, which will receive half the money when we win the rest of the challenges.”
“That’s really sweet you volunteer.” She relaxed further back into him. “Are you and your brothers competitive?”
Never been called sweet before.
“Very.” His grandfather didn’t take weakness from any of his grandsons. He was a hard but generous man, devastated the son he’d raised had none of his values, so he’d worked his grandsons hard. And the work paid off.
He missed his grandfather. He’d hung on until his grandkids were ready to take over, then died a week later. A powerful rush of emotions tightened his throat when he thought of his grandfather. The only person in the world who’d loved him from birth until his brothers came along. He cleared his throat. “Where do you see yourself in ten years?” he asked, curious where she saw her future.
“I’ll still be with Carter. A couple of kids, with my guy, I hope.” She carefully divided the rest of the Skittles and handed him his share.
There wouldn’t be a Carter Hotel in ten years. Within the year, the name would be forgotten, remembered only by faded photos or saved on phones no longer in use. He didn’t have an issue with the deception of buying her company’s shares. His grandfather would have applauded. Business was business, but he’d never dump all the employees out on the street; they’d all be offered a job. He hoped Daisy would work for him. He was under no illusion it would be a peaceful takeover, but it would happen.
“Your charity is the Boys and Girls club?” she asked. “Mine’s a cat rescue.”
He smirked. He could see Daisy surrounded by cats. “I can see that.”
“Do you mind if I catch a nap?” She yawned, her voice weary. “It’s been quite the day.”
Without waiting for her to protest, he picked her up, laid her down on the dirt ground, and moved in behind her. She kept herself an inch from him, trying not to shiver. He clamped an arm around her waist and hauled her back to his front. “Two people making it through the night in a storm.”
“That sounds like the beginning of a romance novel.” She tangled her fingers with his. Something he was getting used to. She did it so often he didn’t think she knew she was doing it.
He chuckled. “If my brothers could see me now, I’d never live it down.”
She stiffened then went to pull away. “Why, because it’s me?”
He caught the pinch in her voice and pulled her closer. “Because I’ve got the company enemy right where I want her, and nothing’s going to happen.”
“Kill me in my sleep, and I will haunt you and not like a friendly ghost.” She yawned and tucked her back into his front. His arm brushed against her breasts, her nipples hardened. Against the backdrop of the wind, he thought her breath hitched.
Cocooned in their own little oven, did she want him? He sure as hell wanted her. She challenged him, and he hadn’t been tested in a long time. Holding her somehow felt right and wrong.
“Daisy?”
Her breathing quietened. He wasn’t convinced she was asleep, but he wasn’t going to push the matter tonight.
Tomorrow was a whole different ballgame.
…
He woke a few times in the night when Daisy thrashed out, but with his arm around her waist, she couldn’t move. He did wake when dawn cracked through the window.
She’d turned in his arms, their limbs tangled; she wiggled closer, and a throaty moan tore from her mouth. She said something that he couldn’t catch.
“Daisy?” he whispered.
The wriggling continued, she moaned again, then smiled against his chest.
Jesus. He’d read the quilting magazine a school kid had sold him to know what she was dreaming about. Had she said his name? It sounded like it, but muffled against his chest, he couldn’t be sure.
Damn.
She burrowed into his chest and sighed leaving him with blue balls, a raging boner, and that smile branded against his chest. He’d stayed awake a long time, staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore her hand clamped around his waist, her gorgeous scented hair like a blanket across his chest or the way her head fitted perfectly into his shoulder.
With their fucked-up family history, there could never be anything between them.
He stared over her head. It was time to give himself a reality check. He was here for the Levi resort bid only. Her family had stolen from him, and there was no denying that cold, hard fact. Brayden had been positive of his accusation, and he backed his brother 100 percent. His arms tightened around her. He couldn’t wait for her public apology, her shot with Levi gone. Tomorrow he’d be working on her confession because they’d be back to being enemies.
…
Daisy couldn’t force down her sandwich. Her stomach rebelled at the thought of food. She sat across from Zan who’d barely looked at her since she’d woken alone in the hut this morning. When he did glance her way, his lip curled, his eyes cold. She’d become a stain on his favorite shirt. Earlier she’d woken on her own to a powder-blue sky and whisper-calm turquoise ocean.
Best night’s sleep ever.
She’d had a hot dream, and she’d woken relaxed and smiling, for once not stressed about work or their tumbling share price. She’d woken alone, missing Zan’s heat, who’d returned a couple of minutes later. She’d said good morning, and his response was curt, delivered in a distant, icy tone.
She swallowed heavily and carefully hid her confusion behind a blank face.
It was as if their shared conversations of last night had never happened. The smile on her face died a quiet death when he turned emotionless eyes on her and told her they were leaving. She’d tried a couple of times at a conversation but had been shut down, and damn if that didn’t sting.
She now caught his gaze skidding to her then slipping away, his mouth tight, his eyes vacant.
His look fired straight into her heart on a bitter arrow.
Back to being an arrogant ass.
Whoever the man was last night had gone, and instead sat the man she’d always thought he was.
What was she thinking? They’d be best friends? No, but she thought they’d reached some sort of truce. Poppy would never do what Brayden Gillard had accused her of. Their family history dated back generations and was clearly still going strong.
She tilted her chin. Back to being enemies. Fine by her.
After a brief fight over her not wanting to kayak back, she’d phoned the resort and when they wouldn’t be able to send someone to collect her for hours she’d relented. The sea was calm, and they made it back without mishap by midmorning. His shoulders were not relaxed like yesterday where the oar had glided through the ocean. The coiled muscles under that golden skin stabbed the water in short jerks. The trip back bursting with resentful silence.
Zan had left as soon as the kayak was secured without a word which left Daisy to have a long shower, trying to iron some of the tension from her body. She walked around the resort, smiling at the couples who had the bloom of love about them, feeling empty. With wistfulness like snowflakes falling over her, she smiled at the hands brushing, hair twirling, couples heading toward bungalows with anticipation written on their faces. Maybe the four-day rule worked. Maybe she’d come here as a single and see if the equation worked.
She was here for an entirely different purpose with a man who openly despised her. If they were different people, until this morning, she’d like to know him a lot more. He’d been open and gentle, and anchored to his body she’d had the best night’s sleep she’d had in ages. They’d been Zan and Daisy. Then this morning that man had vanished and Jackass now sat in his place. The man of the hour now sat across from her, attacking his food with short, vicious movements.
“A change in the cuff challenge. The couple who stays handcuffed together for the length of the remainder of the challenge, morning and night, will take a bonus prize.” He sounded bored as if the idea of being cuffed to her was about as much fun as poop patrol at the cat rescue she volunteered at.
She stiffened.
Oh no. This most definitely is not on a list.
“Cuffed to you?” Her stomach went to hang out with her feet.
Predatory green eyes captured hers. A snarl curled his lip. “Worried about spending a lot of time plastered to my side? Afraid you’ll jump me?”
She jerked back. His words, invisible knives, cutting deep. “I thought…I thought last night…” She let the words trail. The words were out of her mouth before her brain and mouth had a consult.
He leaned forward, his green eyes as cold as the deepest ocean. “You thought what? That spending a night sharing Skittles we’d be best friends, and I’d forget how you sister tried to take down our company?”
If she could, she’d fling her plate at him.
He shrugged one arrogant shoulder. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you jump me.”
“You are such a dick.” Heat pounded her cheeks. Her blood steaming.
She leaned forward until his breath scorched her cheek. “Alexander, if you were the last man on the planet and there was a sperm clinic, to ensure the future of the human race I’d be buying a baster.”
“Is that so?” A cruel smile curled his mouth. She thought she caught his shudder when she’d said his full name.
“Yeah. That’s so.” Her voice was expressionless. She had read this man wrong. Last night she thought she’d glimpsed the real Zan Gillard behind the mogul.
Guess I was wrong. So very, very wrong.
“So, the cuff challenge?” He leaned back all loose-limbed.
Swapping him out wasn’t possible. She wasn’t apologizing for something her sister didn’t do, and there was no way she was confessing that she didn’t have the money.
An idea started to germinate in Daisy’s mind. He didn’t like public displays of affection. Attached to him, with her hand in his, pressed against his side, he’d be putty in her hands. He’d want to swap out, she’d funnel his fifty thousand into the company, and she couldn’t wait to hear his very public apology. “Why don’t we start early. I can’t wait.” She unclenched her jaw.
…
Zan stuffed the paper into his back pocket. So he’d elaborated on the note, which said nothing about being cuffed at night. That came sailing into his head on a genius idea after last night with Daisy snuggled into him like she belonged. The rules had changed. He’d seen the hurt flash in her beautiful eyes when he’d been an ass to her, but she couldn’t know how much she affected him. They were both here as business professionals, which was why he’d had to level the playing field. And he hated that she was back to calling him Alexander, but he’d deliberately burned the bridge.
Now she wasn’t a CEO. Now she was a pissed off woman.
She pulled a tube from her pocket, and with her eyes on him and with deliberate slowness, outlined her lips in gloss. His body went solid when she puckered her mouth and sent a kiss in his direction. The scent of bubblegum lingered in the air.
“The one and only kiss you’ll get from me.”
Fuck.
He shifted in his seat, uncomfortably aware of the boner he was sporting.
“I don’t want anything from you,” he said.
“Good, because you’ll get nothing from me, Alexander, especially not my fifty grand, but if you want to swap out, cut me a check, apologize about Poppy, this will be over.”
He pushed back on the headache building inside his skull. “Not a chance.”
He grimaced at her cold tone. He wished he was anywhere but here with her. But he was here to win the challenge for his charity and finish Levi’s ridiculous rule about being here in the first place, but Daisy with her rules for every challenge and her bubblegum soaked lips were killing him.
He was done.
They were now going to play by his rules.
Cuffed together, she wouldn’t have the choice of standing there and debating everything and muttering about rules. If he were forced to put her over his shoulder with his hand on her lush butt, it would be no bother to him. Besides, when she coughed up her side of the bet all the better.
He chugged a mouthful of beer, while Daisy gazed out at the resort, a dreamy expression on her face that had replaced the hard one of a few minutes ago.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, genuinely wanting to know and it pissed him off that he did.
A smile teased her lips. “Wondering if the whole four-day thing works. Wondering if maybe my guy is here.” She cut him with a smile. “Wondering if I should start looking for him.”
A darkness formed on his horizon. “We agreed we’re not swapping out unless you’re coughing up the fifty grand now.”
She leaned forward and tangled his fingers in hers, a teasing smile on her lips that did not make it to her eyes. Her gentle touch sent a tremor down his arm and arrowed into his still aching boys. “I’m not swapping out. I’m not giving you fifty thousand of my hard-earned cash, and I don’t take Monopoly money, plus I suspect your credit rating is poor. Maybe my man is at Lovers Beach right now. It only fits two people apparently. He might be there waiting for me. I should swing by and give him my number.”
Like fuck she would.
“You’re up for the challenge?” He dangled the metal cuffs between them. Plastered to his side, no man would come close enough to give her his number or vice versa. The mixed messages he was sending to himself were confusing the crap out of him.
“As I said. Bring it, unless you want to swap out. I don’t mind if you do. I think it could be quite refreshing.”
The tension had now moved to his jaw. “I agree, working with a like-minded person would be refreshing, but I hate giving money away. Plus, I can’t wait to hear your very public apology, so unless you’re bailing…”
Pissed, angry, and steaming, she was arresting, but when she smiled, his heart threw in an extra beat. They’d have to work something out in the sleeping department, but he guessed with the way she looked now, with a tight mouth, frown lines digging between her eyes, there’d barely be body contact. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he occasionally liked her smart mouth challenging him at every turn. He’d never had a woman who challenged him. Most stepped back when he stepped forward. He especially loved it when she got in his space, with her hands on her hips, spitting fire.
You’ve woken the dragon, baby.
He drained his beer.
“We need strict rules.” Daisy crossed her long legs that would fit snuggly around his hips.
He dragged his gaze up her body. In another lifetime. Yes, to the legs, no to the rules.
She caught his gaze, one brow arched.
He leaned forward in his chair.
“One challenge we do my way. The next yours.” Which wasn’t even remotely in his rulebook and was not how the rest of the challenges would be played out, but she wouldn’t know that. He waited for the fireworks.
She studied him. Her dark eyebrows drawn, no doubt trying to work out his angle.
You won’t, baby.
“We’ll have boundaries that neither will cross.” Again, she uncrossed her legs then crossed them. He tried hard to keep his eyes on her, but the traitorous bastards couldn’t help but take in the sweep of smooth muscle over tanned legs. He could still feel the weight of her leg thrown over his last night.
His eyes narrowed. Was she playing him?
Of course she is.
Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward, and he fought not to stare at the lace of her white bra. “You mean like a safe word they had in the Fifty books?”
He frowned. “Not my choice of reading material, but yeah, a safe word.”
“Like when she was being spanked…”
Her face flushed. Was she running a scene in her head? She squirmed and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
Jesus. H. Christ.
It turned her on being spanked. His palm on her smooth butt as she moaned underneath him, begging for more. He’d kiss the red palm print… Sweat trailed down his chest, and it wasn’t from the sun.
“Think up a safe word and let me know,” he said harshly.
She blinked. Her face was red, and she sucked back the last of her drink, avoiding his eye.
“Virgil. What’s yours?”
His eyebrows rose. “Your safe word is you yelling another man’s name? No.”
“I won’t be yelling my cat’s name, and I won’t be needing a safe word, so I don’t see the problem.” She leaned forward, hooking him and trying to reel him in. “What about you? What’s your word?”
“Won’t need one.”
“Why?”
Her gaze roamed over his body, his nipple ring getting some attention, but when it dropped to his shorts, she sucked in a breath, swallowed, and her gaze flew to his. He leaned forward and said in a soft voice, hooking a length of her hair, tightening it around his finger, “Because there’s nothing I won’t try.”
Her mouth fell open.
He dropped the curl of hair. Paperwork needed to be sorted. He pulled the paper from his pocket. “The guidelines state that one person can sleep in the bed, the other on top of the covers. We separate for bathroom breaks and showers, but that’s it,” Zan said, making the challenge up, his words crisp and formal, bored even.
Cuffed together day and night, she’d have no way of knowing the challenge was only for during the day. He could ward off any questions if they came his way.
“It’s the only way we can do this.”
She nodded, leaned forward, and said in a whispery voice, “I’ve got this.”
He caught the mischievous look in her eye. She probably thought she did, but he was in charge. “I’ll sleep on top of the covers.”
She shrugged. “You could sleep in the bed naked, and I’ll be dreaming of a baster.”
The ache in his jaw now pounded. “We’ll stay in your bungalow. Girls tend to have more shit than guys.”
She opened her mouth, undoubtedly to blow, but as fate would have it, Sally walked around giving out a surprising number of brown paper bags. She made it to where he and Daisy sat. He nodded and smiled when her eyes widened, then pulled the cuffs from the bag, snapped one on his left wrist. Daisy held out her hand; he snapped the cuff on her right, leaving his right, and strongest, hand free.
He handed her a key for the cuffs and pocketed one himself. She angled her body toward his until she pressed against him, and he fought to not inch away.
Sally dinged a spoon against her glass. “We have a few couples participating in the ‘Stay Together’ challenge. Whoever stays together longest wins a substantial amount of points.” She smiled. “Don’t forget you’re getting to know your partner. Build the start of a relationship. Maybe at the end of your stay here, you’ll have found your one true love.”
Zan shook his head.
Poor bastards.
A girl next to him giggled and moved closer to her partner who smiled down at her. A couple to his left stood ten feet apart. Someone shouted “get a room” to a couple making out by the pool.
Daisy’s scent hung in the salty air, and he breathed deeply. Her arm on his leg and her thigh pressed against his weren’t helping his core temperature. They finally made it through dinner without a word spoken. A winter day in Antarctica was warmer than the atmosphere at their table. A medium-rare steak with all the fixings for him. A spinach lasagna and salad for her, both washed down with a pinot and chardonnay. Damn if he didn’t miss her smart mouth, her attitude. He hated the thick silence. When she glanced at him her always happy face was blank.
Maybe she is close to breaking, and this whole thing will be over.
That public apology would be sweet.
Ten minutes later they walked along the path toward his bungalow where he unlocked the cuffs, made a quick stop for his toothbrush and checked his phone for messages. He stepped outside to find her waiting. A full moon hung in the sky sprinkled with millions of glittering stars. The splash of pale light highlighted the copper in her hair.
They now stood in her bungalow which had the same configuration as his. A king-size bed dominated the room with a white cotton comforter. A walnut tallboy stood in the corner. An overhead fan pushed air around. He liked that the resort was eco-conscious, and there wasn’t the whine of air-conditioner units running day and night. If he walked straight ahead, he’d walk into a matching bathroom with an enormous waterfall-inspired shower with a mosaic of shells on the tiled walls. The same bowl of tropical flowers on the writing desk tucked into the corner. Her clothes sat in neat piles in drawers, unlike his. He hadn’t bothered to unpack; he grabbed stuff from his case as he needed it.
“I’ll change.” Daisy rubbed at the mark on her wrist, a ripple of pain slashed across her face. He walked to where she stood and gently captured her wrist.
“Shit.” He studied the bruise. “That’s on me. Sorry.” He’d been consciously and subconsciously pulling away from her. He couldn’t figure it out if she sidled up because she was playing him or being affectionate was her thing.
She shrugged. “Don’t worry, Alexander. You can’t hurt me.”
The way she said his name put his teeth on edge.
She moved to a tallboy and grabbed something, held it to her chest, then turned.
He hoped it was the purple baby doll nightgown. He’d be lying on top of the bed, this morning’s scene on replay in his head. With only lace between them, he’d be reciting the entire periodic table.
“If you could do your thing in the bathroom and wait until I call. I’ll change in here and slip under the covers, then we can do the cuff thing.” She spoke to his left shoulder.
Without saying a word, he walked into the bathroom then cleaned his teeth. An open bottle of lotion stood on the counter, the source of the jasmine. He waited until she called that she was done.
He left on his boxers, walked back into the room, and stopped dead.
The lilac baby doll had been replaced by a dark-red silk something. She held a blanket to her chest, so he could only see thin straps on her shoulders and a deep V of lace that accented her mouthwatering cleavage.
She’d laid a blanket on top of the bed.
He grimaced, picked up the cuffs, snapped one on his wrist and waited until she held out hers. He handcuffed them together, turned out the light next to the bed, then lay on the covers, pulling a cotton blanket across his body.
Her fingers found his, and she squeezed his hand. He wasn’t that surprised when she laced her fingers through his and didn’t let go. It seemed to be her thing, and he’d never admit it in a court of law, but it was starting to grow on him.
Eventually, her breathing deepened. He swallowed a grunt when her foot kicked his thigh. The woman was on the move.
“Daisy,” he called when her arm landed heavily on his throat.
Nothing.
After minutes of torture, Zan threw back the cover, and slid into the bed. He pulled Daisy’s head to his chest and anchored an arm around her waist.