Marcus stared at the red haired beauty lying in the hospital bed. Delilah James, born Lila Jamison, the superstar recording artist was out. Exhaustion. Her body just couldn’t keep going with her normal, brutal schedule any longer.
Rubbing a hand over his face, Marcus paced the end of the bed, trying to think of what to do. His mind instantly started listing all the things he would have to cancel. No way would he let her continue at this breakneck pace.
“Where is she?”
Marcus heard the nurses outside of the room and immediately knew what was happening. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice commanding obedience. “It’s her sister.”
Kara Jamison nodded her thanks and Marcus held the door open for the woman who was just as stunning as her sister, although her hair was a darker red versus Lila’s copper locks, pale skin, green eyes, and a body that would put the pinup models to shame. Where Lila was thin and frail looking, Kara was curvy and sensuous with every movement.
Both women were gorgeous, strong, intelligent and ambitious but there was a hidden layer to both of them. In both women, there was a kindness, a gentleness of spirit, which came through in everything they did. It was one of the reasons Lila, also known as Delilah James on stage, and Kara, her sister, were resounding successes in their chosen fields. Both women had come from nothing and had clawed their way to success. He respected them both intensely and knew they were good people.
But their beauty left him cold.
Thinking of the woman who made him burn, he pulled his cell phone out and typed a quick message. “I need you here, Becca. I’ll send the plane.”
Glancing at the clock, he realized that it was only three o’clock in the morning in Los Angeles where Becca was…
“I have a seat booked that leaves for Michigan at seven, fifty-two this morning. I’ll be there as soon as the plane lands.”
Marcus muttered a curse under his breath. Becca should be sleeping! What was she doing awake at three in the morning?! “Cancel that ticket and go to sleep, honey. My pilot will be there to pick you up.”
“Already purchased ticket,” came the reply, and Marcus could picture her moving about her tiny house, gathering things up and grabbing the bag that she always kept packed because situations like this occurred regularly. And vacuuming. He chuckled because he knew that Becca liked to come home to a clean house. She was adorable! And hot, sexy, efficient, drove him nuts with her body and…yeah. All of the above, but double.
“Becca,” he groaned, and walked out of the hospital room. Texting her back, he replied, “Very soon, we’re going to have a serious discussion about you following orders.”
The sassy response almost instantly appeared on his phone. “Yeah, not very good at that, am I?”
Marcus once again ran a hand over his face, but more to stop the laughter this time. No one could ease his stress like Becca. He had a client who was more of a friend, lying in a hospital bed, and he was worried sick about her despite the doctor’s assurance that Lila would be okay.
And yet Becca, his saucy minx of an assistant, made him laugh. Okay, she also made him hot. Made him ache! Her soft brown hair and those gorgeous amber eyes…so innocent and yet filled with mischief most of the time. He loved talking with her, working with her…hell, he loved just being with her, even as his body ached to make love to her. There had been many weekend afternoons he’d shown up at her place, just to be with her, talk with her, and watch her garden. Working in her tiny backyard was her way of blowing off steam, of balancing her world. When things got too crazy, his Becca retreated to her yard and dug in the dirt. He had no idea why, but for some reason, gardening made her feel better.
She’d started off as a receptionist for his company. From the moment he’d walked into the building and saw her sweetness, those glowing, amber eyes, he’d been hooked. Completely and irrevocably. He’d tried to diminish the power she had over him, but she was such a breath of fresh air, such a staggering combination of innocence and intelligence, that his efforts had been pointless. When the majority of the women in Los Angeles wore as little clothing as possible, thinking that showing skin would get them that music contract, or just the next free drink at a bar, his Becca wore cardigans and long pants, shirts buttoned almost all the way up to her neck. It was as if she were the antithesis of everyone else walking around the city that thrived on sex and sensuality.
And it made him crazy trying to guess what she wore underneath those clothes!
He knew that his Becca had a knockout figure. That much he could determine just because he had eyes and she was…well, gorgeous. But the way she dressed along with those flashing eyes…damn, he could go from bored to rock hard just watching her walk into his office. Especially when he saw that special look in her eyes that warned him she was going to say something to make him laugh. Or groan and then laugh.
She’d advanced from the receptionist desk to an administrative positon quickly, and then had continued to take on more and more responsibility. She was outstanding with the clients, firm with the vendors, and delicious when she was with him. So now she was his personal assistant, helping him in just about every aspect of his business.
And yet, as much as he loved talking with her, laughing with her and working with her, he knew that she was holding something back. His beautiful Becca was reserved and nervous about…? It was almost as if she were hiding something from him. But she was so open and fascinating. They worked long hours together and nothing was taboo during their conversations. She teased him about the women he dated and he teased her because she didn’t date. Not at all.
Damn! He wanted that woman! In so many ways!
He was trying to be respectful of her ‘stay away’ signals, but it was getting harder and harder.
Rebecca hurried through her house, grabbing work, her computer, her already-packed ‘go’ bag as Marcus referred to the small suitcase that was filled with everything she might need for the next couple of days, and finished a tepid cup of coffee just as a cab pulled up to the curb outside of her tiny house. Hoping she had everything she might need, she hurried out, locking up as she went.
Once at the airport, she rushed through security and stood in line at her gate. The whole time, she tried very hard to ignore that silly, excited thrill that had filled her body when she’d seen the message from Marcus. Just four little words and her whole day was brighter, happier. She’d abandoned the song she was working on and got herself ready to fly.
Trying to pay no heed to that trembling excitement, she focused on work, on what Marcus might need. He was in Michigan, she knew that much. But why? Oh yeah! Delilah Jamison! Ugh!
Rebecca really disliked that woman.
Oh, she tried not to. She knew it was wrong to hate someone but…It was Delilah James, singer extraordinaire, woman that every man in the country desired…including Marcus. The woman was so stunningly gorgeous and everyone loved her! Not only that, but Delilah was NICE! It was one thing to be beautiful and talented, Rebecca thought. But those people shouldn’t be NICE. It was harder to hate them.
Of course, Rebecca had no trouble hating Delilah Jamison. It was wrong, but the jealousy just ate her up inside. It was all because Marcus jumped whenever Delilah called him.
Of course, he was her producer. It was his job to do that for his clients. And Marcus Benton hadn’t created his powerhouse music empire by ignoring his clients. If anyone wanted to get into the music industry, they had to go through Benton Industries. Yes, there were other music producing companies, but none were as good, as powerful, as Marcus’.
That was the real reason she’d gone to work for Benton Industries herself. Yes, she was a good assistant to Marcus, but as a songwriter, her real dream would be to hear her songs sung by someone for an audience. She didn’t care who heard them, just so long as someone did. She craved for people to hear her words.
Yes, she could sing herself, but she’d seen too many singers crash and burn, or get caught up in the hype, be hounded by the press so that their lives were no longer their own. She knew of several music singers who hid out in their houses, afraid to leave for fear of being photographed by the press.
Rebecca would hate that! She loved being outdoors, planting things in her garden or walking through the mountain trails by her house, or simply jogging anonymously through the streets in the quiet of the morning so that her mind was mentally prepared for the day. Life was too glorious. She didn’t want to hide.
Of course, she had no idea if her songs were good enough to become hits! She secretly sent them to Marcus, but the big jerk still hadn’t hired someone to sing them! He said that he loves the lyrics, but….she wasn’t sure he was telling her the truth. If he loved them so much, why wouldn’t he hire someone to sing them? Singers bought music from songwriters all the time and belted them out for audiences all over the world. She didn’t care! She just wanted her songs to be heard!
Sighing, she heard the call over the airport intercom to board her flight. Becca waited until almost all of the passengers were on board before she moved towards the entrance. Smiling, she pulled up the e-ticket on her phone and the lady looked at the number. “Ma’am, you have been upgraded to first class,” she explained with a deferential smile. “Your new seat number is 1A.”
Becca sighed. “Marcus!” she grumbled, bristling at his high-handed interference. But then smiled to the startled woman. “Sorry. My boss is spending money on me that he didn’t need to.”
The woman still looked confused. It wasn’t often that someone reacted negatively when told they were being upgraded to better seats. Rebecca walked along the connection pathway to the plane, still shaking her head, but there was a little smile of delight. Marcus was too generous, she thought as she sat down in the wide leather seat.
Taking out her computer notebook, she tightened her seatbelt then focused all of her attention on skimming through the news, trying to see if there was anything going on in the world that might affect one of Marcus’ clients.
It was then that she came across the headlines about Delilah Jamison’s concert, and the fact that the woman had been rushed to the emergency room right after walking off-stage.
“Oh no!” she gasped, jerking upright in her seat.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Freeman, but you’ll have to turn off electronic devices prior to takeoff.”
Rebecca tore her eyes away from her phone and looked up at the flight attendant, not really understanding the words. But as her eyes looked around, she realized that everyone was already seated and the airplane was actually taxing away from the gate. “Yes. Right. Of course,” she said and frantically tried to turn off her electronic notebook. But her mind was focused on Delilah, well, her real name was Lila. And if Rebecca weren’t so jealous of Marcus’ attention towards the gorgeous woman as well as the singer’s spectacular success, she suspected that they might be friends. It was just too hard, knowing how Marcus felt about her. The jealousy was too intense.
But then again, Rebecca’s feelings towards Marcus were too intense, too inappropriate for an employee to have towards her boss.
Unfortunately, the heart wants what the heart wants. She had tried to date other men. But none could measure up to Marcus. Even physically, it was hard to find a man as tall, commanding, gorgeous, funny, intelligent and overwhelmingly masculine as Marcus. He was several inches over six feet and liked to tease her about her own height of only five feet, five inches. She might be short, she’d retort, but what she lacked in height, she made up for stubbornness.
He liked to chuck her on the chin when she said that. Rebecca should stop him from doing that, but the man really was a toucher, always guiding her with a strong hand at the small of her back, gaining her attention with a touch to her shoulder…little things that she absolutely loved. And hugging! Goodness, she loved it when the man hugged her! Those strong arms, his whole body wrapped around her! It was…she sighed and rubbed her forehead. She loved every one of those gestures way too much.
At night, when she was alone in her cold, lonely bed, staring up at the ceiling, she imagined she could still feel his finger or his hand touching her, the area of her body that he’d touched still tingling, even hours after that touch.
With a sigh, she stared out the window of the plane, watching as the pilot sped down the runway. Moments later, the plane was lifting off, separating from the earth. Some people hated this part of the flight, but Rebecca loved it, thought it was one of her favorite experiences. She loved the power of the plane as it defied gravity, lifting off of the earth and angling up into the clouds. She knew there was a very specific science related to the take off. But in her mind, it was magical.
Sitting back, she thought about Marcus and about what she was going to do with her future, trying to figure out a way to get out from under his spell. On the one hand, she absolutely loved working for the man. He was overly generous, both in salary as well as bonuses, not to mention how he seemed to always have a small present for her. He told her the gifts were simply small spot bonuses, but she was suspicious. And flattered. Unfortunately, Rebecca hadn’t looked for a new job, not wanting to leave Marcus or the excitement of being around him, being a part of his company. She also knew she would never find another job that would pay as well.
But she also knew that she had to get away from him. She wanted kids, a husband, a home…a family. Marcus just wasn’t that kind of a man. He wasn’t the picket fences and diaper changing dad. He was the man who knew all of the hot spots to see and be seen around town. He was the man who knew how to outpace the competition, to find the next best thing almost effortlessly. He was… captivating, amazing, hard-working, driven, brilliant, sexy, handsome, funny and….
He was addictive.
She wasn’t going to find her happily ever after with Marcus so she needed to…goodness, her heart broke just thinking about not seeing him every day, of knowing someone else would be helping him, making his day run more smoothly.
That was what was going to have to happen though. Eventually. Okay, not yet. Yes, she was still young. She could work for him a while longer. Just a little while longer, she promised herself.
The next thing she knew, the plane was touching down and Rebecca was jarred awake. Looking around, she was startled to realize that she’d slept through the entire four and a half hour flight. Not surprising, since she hadn’t gotten to sleep before getting on the plane!
With a yawn, she gathered up her belongings and checked the time. She wasn’t even sure which time zone she was in, but she would figure it out once she got off the plane.
With exhaustion weighing her down, she stood up and, since she was in the first seat, was the first off of the plane. It suddenly occurred to her that the flight had been full, but no one had been sitting in the seat next to her. She wouldn’t put it past Marcus to have bought both seats, just to ensure her comfort. He was such a sweet man, she thought with a slight smile on her features as she rolled her bag down the long hallway that connected the plane to the airport terminal.
As she walked out the gates, she searched the overhead signs for directions to the cab line. She knew which hotel Marcus was staying in so it would be fastest to just take a….
She swung around when the weight of her computer was lifted off of her shoulder. She was just about to take a swing at the thief when Marcus’s strong arm pulled her against him and she heard his deep laugh. “Relax, slugger,” he said, his voice dangerously close to her ear. “It’s just me trying to help you out.”
She relaxed, but then felt his hard body against hers and stiffened in shock. “What are you doing here?”
Marcus held her like that for a long moment, his eyes searching her features. “You’re exhausted. Why were you awake when I texted you at three in the morning?”
She didn’t want to tell him why, and her lashes lowered, trying to hide her secret. “Why do you assume I was awake? Maybe I was sound asleep and your text woke me up.”
His free hand came up, the rough pad of his forefinger sliding against her cheek. “Why were you awake, Becca?” he asked again.
Goodness, she loved the way he shortened her name. It was like an endearment every time he said it like that. No one else dared to call her anything but Rebecca. Some shortened her name to Becky but she stopped that as soon as it happened. Why hadn’t she ever told him not to call her Becca?
Because she loved it. It made her feel special and all squishy inside.
She was also painfully aware of him holding her like this. It was almost as if they were lovers, standing in the middle of a busy airport and meeting after a long absence. Goodness, how her imagination could run away with her!
“I was working,” she finally admitted, banishing all of her unrealistic thoughts and dreams from her mind. No picket fences, she told herself firmly.
Pulling away, she stepped back and reached for her roller case. But he took it from her first, leaving her with only her purse.
“Come on, honey. You need a nap and some food before we get started.”
Five minutes later, a limousine pulled up outside of the airport doors, the driver efficiently stowed her suitcase in the trunk while Marcus held her hand while she stepped into the back of the vehicle. It was a spacious, elegant limousine, until Marcus sat down, too close to her. With him inside, the previously large space seemed cramped and smaller. His broad, sexy shoulders were just too huge and his muscular legs stretched out, taking up most of the legroom even though he wasn’t one of those men who spread their knees wide open, selfishly taking up as much space as they wanted. Marcus was just a huge man with lots of muscles all over his body. He took up space not because he was trying to prove his worth, but because he was simply huge!
Pulling her eyes away from his profile, she waited until he finished his phone call. “Was it drugs?” she asked. A jealous, petty part of her was hoping that Lila had actually collapsed from a drug overdose. But the other part of her prayed that it was just exhaustion like some of the broadcasts were saying. Rebecca might be jealous of the woman’s talent, but Lila Jamison was truly a nice person, and Rebecca wanted to believe that there were talented, successful singers out there who didn’t lose themselves with drugs, alcohol, or sexual liaisons.
Immediately, he shook his head. “No. She’s just been working too hard. She’s come out with one hit album after another and a concert schedule that gave her no time for relaxation.”
Something eased inside of her. Relief. “You’ve told her that on numerous occasions. You can’t blame yourself for this,” she told him.
“I fired Jerry, her manager,” he told her. “She insisted on doubling the concert appearances over the past several months and Jerry set them up, despite me telling him that she was burning out. The woman needs a break. She needs to go somewhere quiet and isolated. Some place where the press can’t find her.” He rubbed his neck. “She was also ordered by the doctor to gain at least ten pounds. Her blood pressure is too low.” He shook his head. “She’s really done a number to herself.”
Rebecca tensed up as she thought of the perfect solution. “You sent her to your place in Grand Cayman, didn’t you?” Even saying that made her angry. She’d been to Marcus’ beautiful island home last summer and it was absolutely gorgeous! She’d felt so special, being there with him, even though they’d worked part of the days together. He’d called it a working vacation and, at the time, he’d told her that this was his hideout. No one knew about his Cayman Islands house and he’d never brought another female there. She’d almost glowed to have been invited to that special location.
Was that all a lie? Or was his special place going to be special to someone else? Her heart ached at the possibility.
His eyes sliced over to hers, surprised by her question. “My Cayman house? No! No way. That’s exclusive.” His hand pressed gently against her knee. “You’re the only one who has been there, other than friends who live around that area who come for dinner parties or social events.” He shook his head again. “No, that’s not for business purposes. Purely for relaxing.”
Rebecca couldn’t believe the almost overwhelming relief she felt at his words. Not only was she still the only person in his life who had been there, but he implied that she was part of his relaxation life. Yes, she was making more of it than she should, but darn it, that felt good!
Shrugging her shoulders slightly, she looked down at her notes. “So the job we need to do is cancel all future appearances, delay any endorsement deals for the foreseeable future, all interviews, send the press to a different location from where she’s actually gone and eliminate the rumors that she collapsed from a drug overdose. Am I missing anything?”
Marcus laughed softly, shaking his head. “No. You got it all in one.” He opened his computer and flipped through some spreadsheets. “Unfortunately, Lila has loaded up her schedule to an insane number of appearances and concerts. It is going to be a huge job to fix this mess.”
The limousine pulled up to the hotel and they exited. From past experience, she knew that her small amount of luggage would be brought to her room by someone on the hotel staff even though she was perfectly capable of wheeling it herself. It was all part of the service that came with traveling with a man like Marcus. He was hideously wealthy and had gotten used to the finer things, like luggage service.
As soon as Marcus unlocked the door, Rebecca was astounded by the size of the suite, but she shouldn’t be by now. Marcus liked his space and always took the penthouse. As someone who lived in a small house with a postage stamp-sized yard and drove a tiny little car, she was always shocked by the size of places like this.
“There’s an extra bedroom next to mine,” he said as he placed her computer bag onto one of the overstuffed chairs. He walked over to her and looked into her eyes again. That gentle finger, so warm and startling, ran down her cheek, going even further to her neck this time. She couldn’t stop the shiver of awareness when he touched her now. “Go take a nap. We’ll get started after you’ve had a bit of rest.”
Rebecca smiled, enchanted with his concern. “You look horrible too. And how much sleep did you get last night?’ When she saw his eyes shift ever so slightly, she had her answer. “None at all.”
She also knew that he wouldn’t sleep, so she walked over to the kitchen set up on one side of the suite. “As soon as I got off the plane, I texted the hotel.” Opening the fridge, she pulled out eggs, cheese, vegetables and milk. “Get me a cup of coffee and tell me where we are while I cook breakfast.”
“Becca,” he said with a warning tone to his voice.
“Where is Lila going if she’s not heading to one of your houses? I hope she’s not going to her Manhattan apartment. The press know about that building and will be waiting to ambush her.”
She cracked several eggs into a bowl and found a whisk, poured in some milk and started to whip the mixture together.
“Becca, I can have the hotel make something for breakfast. You need to…”
She firmly shook her head. “The hotel will add too much salt and bad stuff. Tell me what’s going on.”
He glared at her for a moment, his arms crossed over his chest. “You know I never allow anyone else to order me around like that, right?”
Rebecca shrugged carelessly as she added in a teaspoon of crushed garlic. “I know. You’re a tough guy. I’m very scared of you. So…about the plans?”
Marcus glared at the woman who had kept him in a constant state of arousal since the moment she’d stepped out of the arrivals area. And she had no idea! Damn it! He wanted to walk over there and kiss her until those full lips could no longer spout mocking statements. If any other employee said something like that to him, they would be fired on the spot. Becca was the only woman he allowed to speak to him like that. And he loved it, actually. She wasn’t afraid of him. She spoke her mind and offered opinions. Not many dared.
He also knew her well enough to understand that she was on a roll. The woman wasn’t going to sleep. At least not yet. She’d start to wind down soon enough. He had to be careful, watch for the signs and be ready to act when she began to crash. No way was he allowing her to burn herself out.
With a grunt of acceptance, he walked over to his computer and pulled up the information. While she cooked eggs and cut up fruit, they talked out a plan for how to attack all of the issues with Lila’s collapse. By the end of the meal, they had a plan. With both of them taking up one end of the long dining room table, they worked throughout the day.
Marcus loved the fact that he could set up a plan and Becca instantly knew what to do, how to achieve all of his goals. She was good, too! Diplomatic, apologetic and by the end of the day, Lila’s fans had already started a Twitter hashtag talking about excessive work schedules. The gossip that she’d overdosed on drugs was still out there, but the majority of her fans accepted the statement that she’d just been working too hard. It had helped when Becca got several other celebrities to voice their agreement that Lila’s schedule was two or three times as busy as their own, so yes, exhaustion was not only possible, but inevitable.
By the end of the day, Becca took off her headset and rubbed her eyes, fatigue seeping into her body. The hotel staff had arrived to clean up the breakfast dishes, brought an afternoon snack and then dinner. An hour ago, Marcus had poured her a glass of chilled white wine and they were now sitting on opposite sofas, their feet propped up on the coffee table as she enjoyed her wine and he sipped bourbon.
“You did a great job today,” he said to her, leaning back with his eyes narrowed on her tired but still beautiful features.
“Thanks. You weren’t too shabby yourself,” she told him, smiling at the memory of how he’d handled all of the tabloid reporters. She knew several of them were most likely on a plane to Mexico, others to Paris. “That was cruel of you to imply that Lila might be heading to Istanbul.”
Marcus laughed. “Yeah, but those guys pissed me off.”
She chuckled right along with him. “Serves them right. They’re the ones that started the rumor last year about her lesbian affairs one month and her pregnancy the next, right?”
The smile that eased into his features revealed his malicious amusement. “Yeah. Where do they come up with this stuff?”
Rebecca shrugged. “No idea.”
“I got another song yesterday,” he announced.
Rebecca tensed. “Another song?” she asked, acting as if she had no idea what he was talking about. “What song?”
“From our mysterious song-writer.”
“Ah,” she replied, nodding her head sagely. She hated when he told her things like this. Was it a lie when she acted like she didn’t know about the songs? “Is this one any good?”
He sipped his bourbon even as he nodded his head. “Oh yeah. It could be a number one. And if we could put all of these songs into an album? Damn, it would be incredible!”
Rebecca’s heart soared with that comment. Praise from Marcus about anything relating to music was like gold! He rarely doled out compliments as effusive as that! “So are you going to sell the song to someone?”
He took another sip of his bourbon as he thought about it. After a moment, he shook his head. “No.” He wasn’t aware of the crushing disappointment that came over Rebecca. “No, these songs are too special. They need to be sung by a woman because of the content, but the woman has to be right. So far, I haven’t heard anyone that could do these songs justice.”
Her eyebrows went up with that statement. “What do you mean? What kind of a voice are you looking for?”
He shrugged and downed the rest of his bourbon. “I don’t know. I’m sure I’ll recognize the voice when I hear it though.”
Rebecca pressed her lips together. Was he being serious? Or did he know that she was the one sending him the lyrics and just trying to let her down easy?
She thought about that for about two seconds, then dismissed the possibility. Marcus wasn’t the “let her down easy” type. He was brutally honest. She always knew where she stood with him. No confusion.
“Contact some of the local colleges and universities,” he said, still mulling over the issue. “See if they have anyone who would like to audition.” He cringed. “Have Bernie screen them first.” Bernie was one of the talent scouts Marcus had on staff. “I’m not conducting another reality show here.”
Rebecca nodded her head and knew she should write that down, but she remained seated, worried that, if she stood up, she would dance her way over to the dining room table. He would question why she was in such a good mood after four hours of sleep and a grueling workday. Since Rebecca couldn’t answer him, she remained seated, holding the wine between both of her hands.
“Are you looking for a particular sort of voice?”
He nodded. “Yes, but I can’t really explain it. The voice and the personality have to be…extraordinary. The lyrics for these songs are pretty amazing. Some are funny, others are poignant…the longing in the songs…they could really be something.”
Rebecca sat there for a long moment, nodding her head as she basked in his unintended compliment.
“What sort of personality are you looking for?”
He winked at her. “You’d be perfect.”
She blushed and looked down at her wine. “Except I can’t carry a tune,” she lied. Oh, she could sing well enough, but there was no way she would admit that to him. She didn’t want to be a singer, was terrified of going on stage and preferred her anonymity and privacy way too much to put herself out there. Not even to hear her own songs being sung. “I will get on that first thing tomorrow morning,” she promised. Silently thinking that maybe she’d send Bernie a message about that tonight.
Suddenly, he stood up, setting his empty glass on the side table. “Time for bed,” he announced and took her now-empty wine glass out of her hands and set it aside as well. Instead of just tugging her arm up to help her out of the deep cushions of the sofa, he bent down low and lifted her into his arms. “What are you doing?” she gasped, not sure what to do so she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck.
“I’m carrying you to your bedroom. You’re exhausted and you deserve a bit of pampering.”
She was so flustered, she could barely think. Oh, the number of times she’d dreamed about being carried to her bed by this man! “I can walk,” she told him, but her words were soft and barely there.
“I know you can.”
“You’re just as tired as I am.”
He shrugged as he winked down at her. “Yeah, but you look worse,” he teased.
Rebecca laughed, mostly because he was probably right. “Always the charmer,” she laughed.
“You know it,” and he released her legs as they stood just inside her bedroom doorway. “The butler’s service has probably already unpacked your bag.”
Rebecca cringed, remembering the boring sleepshirt she’d packed the last time she’d re-organized her go-bag.
He saw the cringe and lifted his eyebrows. “Interesting reaction. What’s in your bag that you didn’t want the butler to see?”
Rebecca shook her head. “There’s nothing in my bag that you need to see.” And she started to close the door.
“Ah, but I think I should be the judge of that. For instance, what style underwear do you wear?” he asked as his eyes immediately dropped to her breasts, causing an instant tingling sensation.
“None of your business!” she gasped, feeling as if she should cover her breasts somehow.
“Ah, come on, Becca. Just give me a hint. You have no idea how often I’ve wondered about it.”
Her eyes widened in horror. “What are you saying?”
He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “That you have a great body and I’ve often wondered what you wear underneath those conservative outfits.”
She had to laugh, shaking her head because she didn’t believe him for a moment. “No you haven’t.”
His eyebrows went higher. “I haven’t?”
She rolled her eyes. “There are too many starlets dancing around you, trying to take their clothes off for you to care about what I may or may not be wearing. Good night, Marcus.”
She closed the door on him, but not before she saw the mischief in his eyes. Oh, boy, she thought. That man really knew how to lay into her. He pushed all of her buttons, both good and bad.
Pull it in, she told herself sternly. Leaning against the door to her bedroom, she pictured him bracing his arms against the doorframe, considering how to get back at her tomorrow. He was devious, she thought. But so far, she’d managed to stay ahead of him.