Chapter 19
19
ADRIAN
I shouldn’t have kissed her. The thought consumes me as I enter the bedroom Rowena and I are sharing. I lost control out by the pool and made the only-one-bed situation so much worse. But with the adoring way she was gazing up at me, her hazel eyes sparkling in the sun, I couldn’t resist capturing her lips with mine, even if just for a fleeting, perfect moment.
What was I thinking? I lost sight of what we’re doing here.
“Mind if I shower first?” Her cheeks are still flushed, loose strands of chestnut hair clinging damply to her neck.
“No, go ahead.” I nod, struggling to keep my voice even. She disappears into the bathroom and I stare at the closed door, mentally kicking myself. I’d like nothing more than to strip off my swim trunks and join her under the warm spray, soap up her curves, kiss the water from her skin.
But that’s not the plan. The plan is not to screw this up, to keep things professional, to maintain the boundaries that are getting hazier by the second. This arrangement is supposed to be strictly business. Faking a relationship to win a job title. That’s it. No kissing involved. That would be crossing a line I’ve already smudged today. I plop onto the side of the bed, run a hand through my hair, and focus on regaining some semblance of self-control. But the sound of running water is a tormenting reminder of her nakedness just a few feet away.
Deep breaths.
An eternity later, the bathroom door opens in a billow of steam. Rowena emerges, now wearing a stunning maxi dress that hugs her figure and flows elegantly to the floor. The floral print complements her glowing skin and sets off the golden flecks in her eyes. My mouth goes dry.
I stand up, grabbing my toiletry bag and a change of clothes.
As I brush past her, I catch a whiff of her fruity shampoo and it takes all my willpower not to bury my nose in her damp hair and inhale deeply.
Closing the bathroom door behind me, I strip off my trunks and step into the shower. I crank the handle all the way to cold and let out a hiss as the icy water hits my overheated skin.
Think of spreadsheets, I tell myself. Profit margins. Anything but the gorgeous woman on the other side of that door. I soap up quickly and rinse off, refusing to let my mind wander.
Teeth chattering, I shut off the water and towel dry. After donning a crisp white button-down and navy slacks, I style my hair and brace myself for the night ahead. Impress Dominic. Do not act like a perv.
Showtime.
I exit the bathroom to find Rowena perched on the edge of the bed, slipping on strappy sandals. She looks up and smiles, easing some of the conflicted anxiety knotting my stomach. She’s good, we’re good .
“Ready to dazzle?” I ask.
“As I’ll ever be.”
I offer my arm. “Shall we?”
She takes it and we descend to the dining room. Dominic greets us jovially, ushering us to our seats. As the first course is served, I place my hand over Rowena’s on the table, interlacing our fingers. She jolts slightly but then relaxes into it. I squeeze, give her a nod, and let go.
Soon, the conversation drifts to market trends and summer plans. I throw in the occasional insightful comment while keeping a keen eye on Rowena. She’s handling the casual chatter like a pro, jumping in when the topic shifts to tech, her insights as sharp as her curves are soft. Her dry humor earns more than a few genuine laughs from Dominic. And she seems more at ease.
But as the evening wears on, the tension between us ratchets higher again the closer we get to bedtime. I couldn’t keep my hands or my mouth to myself while we were in public by the pool, what am I going to do now that we’ll be alone in a room sharing a bed?
By the time the evening ends, my nerves are stretched taut.
Rowena’s voice as she bids everyone a good night is light and breezy, but I catch a glint of something else in her eyes when she turns to face me. Is it eagerness? Dread? Both?
We climb the stairs, the quiet between us holding an edge. As soon as we enter the bedroom, we both stop awkwardly, eyeing the king-sized bed like it’s a battlefield. For a moment, neither of us speaks. Finally, Rowena breaks the silence. “Should we put some throw pillows in the middle?”
I grab some from the settee in the corner and start building a makeshift barrier across the mattress .
“Fort West.” I let out a forced chuckle, hoping to ease some of the tension. “No trespassing.”
She squints at me. “We’ll see how long your fortifications last against my invading forces.”
We take turns in the bathroom, orbiting each other skittishly like asteroids on the verge of collision until we slide under the covers and settle at the opposite ends of the mattress.
Despite the distance, the scent of her lotion wafts over, vanilla and jasmine, and I clench my fists against the urge to roll over and pull her close. But we’re both lying at the edges of the bed only a hair’s breadth away from falling off.
I stare at the ceiling, counting my breaths. This is going to be a long night…
I wake slowly, the tendrils of sleep still clinging. Disoriented, I blink against the sunlight filtering through gauzy curtains. Where am I? Then it hits me—Dominic’s Hamptons house.
Reality comes rushing back as I register the warm weight pressed along my side, the tickle of hair beneath my chin.
Oh, fuck.
In the night, Rowena and I gravitated toward each other like magnets. Now our limbs are tangled, her head on my chest. The barrier between us obliterated. I peek over the edge of the bed and spot the valiant soldiers lying on the floor, decimated.
She stirs and nuzzles deeper into my neck with a contented sigh. Parts of me twitch involuntarily. I should extricate myself, restore a respectful distance before she wakes up. But I’m frozen, hyperaware of every place where our bodies touch, her soft curves molding to my angles. It feels too right.
Rowena’s lashes twitch and I panic. Carefully, I ease out from under her, sliding my arm from the sweet dip of her waist. She makes a disgruntled noise and burrows into the space I vacated, seeking my warmth. I watch, enchanted and aching, as she settles back into sleep.
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I pad to the bathroom.
Remember the rules. You don’t need complications.
I splash cold water on my cheeks and behind my neck.
When I re-emerge, Rowena is awake, adorably rumpled with pillow creases on her cheek. Our eyes meet and lock with awareness.
“Sleep well?” I strive for nonchalance.
A pretty flush stains her skin. “Like a baby. You?”
“Same.” I glance down, pretending to check my watch. “I’m heading down to breakfast. Take your time getting ready.”
Escape. I need to clear my head before I do something foolish, like crush her to that mattress and—nope, not going there. Because fuck, do I want to. Falling into bed with Rowena would be easier than breathing. But I’m not even sure it’d be just mere physical attraction, and that’s dangerous.
No, best to ignore the part of me that whispers it’s already too late. I’m not relationship material. Rowena deserves better than the few spare hours my job allows for my personal life. And she’s vulnerable now, jobless, pregnant, completely dependent on me… I can’t.
I head downstairs to join the others, determined to keep my distance. But I can still feel the phantom warmth of her touch like a brand on my skin.