Chapter 12
RENéE
My heart hammered against my ribs as I stared at him. Did he just say that? No way. I had to be misreading this—Javier, of all people, throwing down a proposal like this? After everything between us? I mean, it felt like a challenge, like he was daring me, but maybe I was just imagining it. Why would he want me anyway? Up until now, we’d kept things strictly professional, or so I thought. Still, my pulse raced at the idea—if he was serious, did I actually want this? And then it hit me hard and fast. Yes. Yes, I did.
I shot him a look. “Please don’t tempt me,” I warned, hoping he’d ignore it.
He stepped even closer and leaned in, his hand grazing my waist. His breath brushed my ear, low and smooth. “Renée, don’t be a coward.”
The nerve! But his words sent a thrill through me that I couldn’t ignore. I turned away, fumbling for my keys, and felt his hand slide around my waist, fingers tracing along my stomach. My breath hitched as heat surged through me, my thoughts going places I probably shouldn’t let them go. I could feel him, solid and warm against me, and my fingers trembled as I finally managed to unlock the door.
Once inside, he slipped off my jacket and let it fall to the floor without a word. The glow from the city lights spilled into the room, casting shadows across his face, and for a second, doubt crept in. Should we even be doing this? Company rules screamed at the back of my mind, reminding me of all the potential consequences. Sensing my hesitation, he pressed me gently against the wall, his hand resting possessively on my hip.
He held my gaze, his voice soft but firm. “I can see you’re hesitating. If you want, I’ll leave right now, and we’ll pretend this never happened.”
But the last thing I wanted was for him to leave. “Stay,” I whispered, my hands slipping up to his chest.
His eyes darkened, and he leaned down, brushing his lips against my earlobe, his voice a rough whisper. “Then should we start where we had left off?” His lips grazed down the side of my neck. “Tell me again why you hate me so much.”
A shudder ran through me, and I tugged at the first button of his shirt. “You humiliated me in front of Jane Austin,” I shot back, my tone sharper than I’d meant.
“Not my fault you were underprepared,” he murmured, tugging lightly at my ear before moving down, his mouth skimming along my jaw.
“You could’ve clued me in a little better—and you stole my commission on that deal too,” I retorted, feeling his hands toying with the zipper of my dress.
“My job’s to protect the company’s interests, Renée.”
“Your job is bullshit.” With one smooth pull, he unzipped the dress, and it slipped off my shoulders. My lace bra was almost in full view, my skin prickling under his scorching gaze.
His eyes traveled slowly over me, lingering just long enough to make my pulse throb. I could feel his heartbeat quicken under my touch.
Exposed but unafraid, I stared him down. “You knew I was right, that my production was solid at that conference, but you still delayed it and left me to clean up the mess,” I accused.
“And you let it happen,” he countered, his hand skimming down my side, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I scowled, hating how his touch sent a thrill through me despite myself.
“You’re such a damn ass,” I bit out, heat surging through my voice.
He chuckled, that aggravatingly sexy smirk on his lips making me want to both slap him and—well, maybe not slap him. “And you’re hardly a saint, sweetheart.”
The audacity of this man! His teasing, his mocking—it was all part of the maddening pull that left me wanting him more, even when I didn’t want to. I wanted to touch him, feel him. Reaching out, I placed my hand on his chest, only for him to step back, leaving me craving the warmth he’d taken with him.
Before I could protest, he reached around me and slipped the dress off entirely, his hands tracing down my sides as he pressed me against the wall. I felt the heat of his body and the hard length of him against my stomach, sending shivers down my spine and heat pulling into my core. His body fit against mine, solid and warm, his presence electrifying every nerve as his lips brushed against my ear.
“I don’t regret a single thing,” he murmured, his voice like velvet over gravel, his hands holding me in place. “But I know what you’re after, Renée. You want me to hate you as much as you say you hate me. With that same fire.”