Chapter 27
I’ve been watching him for some time, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he sleeps.
He’s perfect. His angular jaw and straight nose are a peculiar contrast against his soft, red lips.
His dark features – brows, eyes and hair – are fiercely attractive.
Everything about him embodies masculinity.
I run a finger along the line of his collarbone and lean in to place my lips on his neck.
‘You’re awake,’ he mumbles.
‘Yes.’
He opens one eye to look at me and that familiar, soul-melting half-smile draws on his lips.
‘Are you watching me?’
‘Yes. You were drooling,’ I lie.
He quickly wipes his face with the back of his hand, forcing me to chuckle.
‘I love that sound.’
His expression turns playfully stern and he lunges for me in the bed. I squeal when he pulls me onto his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around my back, forcing me to surrender.
Then he stills, reading me, lost in me like he might get lost in a book.
‘You have no idea, do you?’ He tucks my loose hair behind my ear and presses his mouth to mine, slow, still, unmoving. ‘You’re a witch, Scarlett Heath, and I’m completely under your spell.’
Then I kiss him. Fully, passionately. He rolls me onto my back and lies between my legs, the soft, plump skin of his lips owning mine.
I feel whole under the weight of his body.
He nudges his hips forward lazily and he grows against me.
I want to surrender to him. I want him to control my body totally, utterly, completely.
He teases my top lip with a stroke of his tongue and circles his hips against my stomach.
‘You’re not the only one under a spell, Mr Ryans.’ I am 100 per cent besotted with this man.
He makes sure I’m ready – I am. I most certainly am. Without warning, he thrusts his length into me. A welcome hit. But the look in his eyes tells me he’s not going to fuck me; he’s going to make love to me.
* * *
Showered and dressed in yesterday’s clothes, I smile at the sight of Gregory sitting at the breakfast bar, remembering the events of last night, and this morning.
‘Have I told you how unbelievably sexy you look in a suit?’ he says, watching me walk down the stairs and into the kitchen.
‘Hmm, if you plan on keeping me around today, I’m going to need to pick up some clothes from home.’
‘If that’s what I have to do to keep you, deal.’
I smile. ‘Why don’t I make us some pancakes? Sandy makes the best pancakes. I can’t promise to make pancakes like hers but how hard can it be?’
‘Erm, sure?’
A door bangs somewhere in the apartment, or duplex, or house, or whatever Gregory’s oversized city pad is most appropriately called.
‘Is Jackson here?’
‘Most likely. He has an almost self-contained flat up there,’ he says, pointing generally in the direction of upstairs and east. ‘I haven’t really shown you around properly, have I?’
‘Always been in a rush to do other things,’ I say, grinning at my wit as I crack eggs into a glass bowl.
Gregory’s amusement decorates his voice.
‘Well, if I’d shown you around, you’d realise Jackson doesn’t need to come through the lounge.
There’s a staircase to the side of the front door that goes straight up to his room.
A sort of guest wing. It’s like he doesn’t live here most times which is good; we spend a lot of time together as it is and I like the space.
I’m not always the most sociable of people. ’
‘You don’t say.’
He scowls. ‘Plus, he knows you’re here.’
I smirk over my shoulder. ‘And all that implies.’
He winks. I could orgasm on the spot.
I fumble in the fridge to distract myself from desire. ‘Why did you ever employ Jackson?’
‘I needed a driver. Getting from A to B can be tricky in the city sometimes so it’s convenient and it means I can work, take calls, answer emails if I need to, whilst we’re en route. Then there were a few other things: incidents. Like I’ve said, having money can piss a lot of people off.’
‘So he’s a bodyguard.’
‘I don’t really see it like that. He’s a driver, a personal trainer and to an extent, yes, something like a bodyguard. He watches my blindside.’
I trickle olive oil into a frying pan and turn on the induction hob. The oil heats almost instantly and sizzles when I pour in the wet pancake mix.
‘I’m not sure how these are going to fit with your personal training regime.’
‘I can make an exception.’
A burst of female laughter comes from the adjoining door on the mezzanine level. I turn my head toward the sound.
‘I take it Jackson isn’t alone?’
‘Doesn’t sound like it?’
‘Why do you look so confused?’
‘I’ve never known Jackson have anyone here.’
‘And he’s worked for you how long?’
‘Four years.’
‘Wow, four years. I’d bet he didn’t last very long.’ I smirk. ‘Does it bother you that he has someone here?’
Gregory scratches his nose, then glances towards the staircase. ‘I’m not sure. No?’
I slide the first two pancakes on to a plate and pour another two circles in the frying pan. As I search the cupboards for syrup, Gregory’s phone rings.
‘I’ll be back for the masterpiece; I need to take this,’ he says, holding up his phone. ‘Ryans,’ he snaps, bounding up the stairs to his home office.
The female laughter comes again as I happily continue creating breakfast.
‘Would it offend you if I said I’m surprised they smell good?’ Gregory asks on return.
I grin like a child, genuinely thrilled with my efforts. ‘Work?’ I ask, taking a seat on a stool next to him and drizzling syrup on my plate.
‘These are amazing. And yes, I might have some work coming your way actually: a new deal.’
‘Oh, Gregory, I?—’
‘Sorry, that was thoughtless. You don’t have to do it. I didn’t think. For the record, it’s completely above board, usual business. I wouldn’t have asked you to do anything that?—’
‘It’s not that. I know you wouldn’t get me messed up in anything like that again.’ I stab my pancake with my fork. ‘I know that because I have far too much control over your balls these days.’
We both laugh, although Gregory’s is nervous. ‘I’m the one with the control, angel. C.E.O. Don’t forget that.’
As arrogant as they are, his words completely turn me on.
‘I was going to say that I need to have a think about conflicts of interest and sort out some compliance issues within the firm, that’s all.’
‘Understood.’
‘Which reminds me, I want to know about Jack. And don’t fob me off, Ryans.’
The door to the staircase opens and Jackson comes into the kitchen, saving Gregory from a discussion he seemingly does not want to have.
‘Ah, morning.’
‘Morning,’ Gregory says over his cup of coffee.
Jackson scratches his chin then puts one hand in the pocket of his eighties-style, straight-leg jeans.
‘Jackson.’ I try my best to hide my amusement behind my coffee cup.
‘Ah, I just want to check that it’s still okay for me to take off today. I don’t want to leave you in the lurch and I’ll have my phone all day so if you need me, anything at all, and if it’s anything about, you know?—’
‘It’s okay. She knows it all,’ Gregory says. ‘Yes, take off. I’m going to take Scarlett out to the farm. We’ll be fine there.’
I’ve got no idea what ‘the farm’ is but Jackson seems content with the response. He nods then runs back up the stairs. ‘Good to go,’ I hear him say.
I get back to my pancake. Placing the forkful of food into my mouth, I’m distracted by movement on the stairs. I try not to look but intrigue gets the better of me.
Gregory coughs into his coffee, spraying some remains of his mouthful back into the cup.
Swallowing my pancake with a gulp, I jump off the barstool.
‘Sandy!’
Sandy freezes in the middle of the open lounge. Jackson rests a hand on her back to encourage her forwards.
‘Sandy!’
Gregory walks to Sandy and says good morning, shaking her hand. He offers them both breakfast and coffee. Sandy smiles and responds to Gregory but watches me, motionless.
‘Sandy!’
She bites her finger, then shrugging her shoulders, says, ‘Morning!’
Jackson and Gregory look back and forth between themselves, Sandy and me.
‘Sandy!’
I hadn’t realised my jaw was hanging loose between each round of ‘Sandy!’ but Gregory puts a finger onto my bottom jaw and pushes it closed.
‘Well, we’ll let you get on,’ Sandy says, nudging Jackson towards the entrance door.
‘Sand—’
‘Shh,’ Gregory whispers as he lifts my hand to cover my mouth.