Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
marlowe
I wake up alone on friday morning.
The other side of my bed is empty, the pillow dented where Gunner’s head had lain. I reach out and run my hand slowly across the soft mound. It’s cool to the touch, which means he’s been gone for a while.
Feeling achingly bereft, I sit up in bed and push my tousled hair out of my face. That’s when I see a note lying on the nightstand. Puzzled, I reach over and pick it up, smiling at Gunner’s bold, masculine handwriting.
Kitten,
Had to run to an early meeting. You were sleeping so soundly I didn’t have the heart to wake you. I’m taking you away for the weekend, so you need to pack a bag. I picked out a few things for you to wear. Hope you like them. We’re leaving at 10, so be ready. See you soon.
Yours,
G.R.
I squeal with excitement, the sound echoing around the room.
Laughing at myself, I clutch the note to my chest, my heart bursting with happiness and another emotion I’m not inclined to analyze at the moment.
Grinning from ear to ear, I fling back the covers and race to the walk-in closet. My jaw drops when I see stacks of glossy black boxes on the dressing bench.
“A few things?” I exclaim in disbelief.
The first three boxes are filled with expensive lingerie from La Perla. I softly caress the delicate bits of silk and lace, thrilled and aroused by the thought of Gunner selecting such sexy underthings for me.
Did he picture me in the see-through bras and panties? Did it turn him on? Just the thought makes me shiver in anticipation.
The other boxes hold an array of designer skirts, blouses, pants and sundresses, all in my size. There are also several shoeboxes containing strappy sandals, nude pumps and jewel-encrusted heels. Louis Vuitton. Jimmy Choo. Christian Louboutin.
I shake my head incredulously. When did Gunner find time to go on an extravagant shopping spree?
Grinning dazedly, I pull a garment bag off the rack, unzip it and remove an evening gown that makes me gasp.
The dress is a stunning shade of red. It’s made of silk with a fitted bodice, plunging neckline and an open back. It’s glamorous, sexy and outrageously expensive.
When I see the designer’s name sewn inside, I almost pass out. Zuhair Murad! No freaking way!
Shimmying with excitement, I hold the dress up against my body and stare at my reflection in the wardrobe mirror. It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever owned. Like something you’d see at a red carpet movie premiere.
Hearing a knock on the door, I spin from the mirror with a slightly panicked expression. Despite Gunner’s insistence that Mrs. Calder knows about our affair, I’m not comfortable with having it all out in the open. What if she thinks less of me? What if she thinks I’m hopelessly na?ve, or worse, an opportunistic gold digger?
I carefully drape the dress over the back of an accent chair, then step from the closet and call out, “Come in.”
Mrs. Calder enters the room with Sansa trailing at her heels. “Good morning, dear. Gunner says you were up late studying, so he wanted me to make sure you don’t oversleep.”
“Nope. I’m up.”
“I see that.” There’s a sparkle in her eyes. “Have you started packing?”
“Um, not yet.” I hesitate, staring at her. “You know about the trip?”
“Of course, dear. But don’t ask me where you’re going. It’s a surprise.”
I break into a silly grin.
“Since he won’t be here, Gunner gave the rest of us the weekend off. So Mr. Leland is visiting his family in Houston, and I’m joining my eldest daughter and her family at Lake Tahoe. I’d like to take Sansa with me, if that’s all right with you.”
“Of course,” I say without hesitation.
Mrs. Calder smiles. “My grandchildren are going to love her.”
“Like their grandma,” I point out teasingly. “And to think I was worried that you hated cats.”
“Heavens, no. Whatever gave you that idea?”
“During my interview, you practically recoiled in horror when I mentioned having a cat.”
“Did I?” She sighs. “I was probably thinking of Gunner. He’s always been adamantly opposed to having pets in the house. You were my top candidate, and I was afraid owning a cat would disqualify you. But here you are, both of you. So all’s well that ends well, right?”
“Definitely,” I agree, returning her smile.
“Now then,” she says, clapping her hands together. “May I see your dress?”
“Absolutely!”
She follows me into the closet, where I carefully pick up the haute couture dress and hug it close to my heart. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”
“Very.” She beams approval.
“I can’t believe I’m holding an actual Zuhair Murad dress,” I exclaim. “He’s a world-famous fashion designer! Celebrities wear his gowns to the Oscars and the Met Gala. You can’t just walk into a store and buy one off the rack.”
“I know,” Mrs. Calder says with a twinkling smile. “Gunner happens to be friends with Zuhair, so he had the dress specially made for you.” She pauses. “That was shortly after you started working here. Make of that what you will.”
I’m positively floored. “How did he even get my measurements?”
“I had them on file for ordering your uniform.” She gives the red dress another once-over, her smile widening with admiration. “Gunner’s going to swallow his tongue when he sees you in this.”
I laugh softly as Sansa leaps onto the bench to sniff at pink tissue paper spilling out of a box.
“Thank you for taking such good care of my baby, Mrs. Calder. I’ve been meaning to tell you that.”
She waves off my gratitude. “I enjoy her company. I haven’t had a cat in my life since my Ginger passed away ten years ago. Sansa’s been good for me.”
I smile, touched by her words. “She likes you very much, in case it wasn’t obvious. She follows you everywhere, and she prefers sleeping with you over me.”
Mrs. Calder chuckles, fondly scratching behind the cat’s ears. “She still loves you. She just knows she has to share you from now on.”
My cheeks heat with a blush. I turn away to face the mirror, staring at my reflection for a long moment. “I didn’t want this to happen,” I whisper before I can stop myself.
“Didn’t want what, dear?”
“This . . . relationship with Gunner. I didn’t plan it. In fact, I fought it as hard as I could. But . . .”
Mrs. Calder’s reflection joins mine in the mirror, her eyes soft with understanding. “The heart wants what the heart wants.”
I swallow hard, feeling exposed. “Do you . . . do you think I’m making a mistake?”
“A mistake?”
“Getting involved with my boss. Do you think it’s wrong?”
Her expression gentles. “That’s not for me to decide.” She purses her lips, searching my troubled face in the mirror. “What I will tell you is that I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s more relaxed and lighthearted—two words no one would ever use to describe Gunner Ransom. He wore jeans to work this week, and the other morning I overheard him whistling while running on the treadmill. I honestly can’t remember the last time he dropped everything and ran off for the weekend.” Her eyes twinkle warmly. “You’re clearly the inspiration behind his sudden spontaneity, Marlowe. You make him happy, and something tells me the feeling is mutual.”
“It is,” I whisper. “Definitely.”
She smiles. “Then I see nothing wrong with your relationship, and neither should you.” She tucks an arm around my shoulders and gives me a gentle squeeze. “Now you’d better get ready before he comes home. Changed man or not, he hates to be kept waiting.”
I laugh. “So true.”
i’m packed and ready two hours later when Gunner strides through the front door, casually dressed in a loose white shirt and tan slacks. He’s on the phone, radiating power and impatience as he speaks in a terse tone.
I’m sitting on the bottom step of the staircase. Sansa is curled up in my lap, dozing off and on.
The tension in Gunner’s face seems to soften when his gaze lands on us. As he walks over, Sansa flicks her tail and starts purring shamelessly. He strokes her head while gazing down at me with an approving glint in his eyes. I’m wearing one of the outfits he bought me, a flirty yellow sundress that shows off my bare shoulders and legs.
“I’ll be out of town and unavailable until Monday,” he grits into the phone. “I expect the matter to be resolved before I return. No fucking excuses.” He ends the call and unclenches his jaw, then leans down to press his lips to my forehead. “Sorry about that. We’re having some delays with the expansion project.”
I feel a pang of guilt. “Maybe it’s not a good time for you to?—”
He silences me with a hard kiss, his tongue sweeping inside to tangle with mine. As I let out a throaty moan, he threads his fingers through my hair and whispers against my mouth, “I’ve been dying to get you all to myself this weekend. Wild fucking horses couldn’t stop me from boarding that plane with you.”
My stomach flips at his words. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
He kisses me again. “Let’s go.”
We say our goodbyes to everyone and head out the door. While Trace loads our luggage into the car, I slide into the backseat. Gunner climbs in beside me, his hard muscular thigh pressing against mine. The heat radiating from his body burns through my dress and tightens my nipples. I don’t know where we’re going, but when we get there I’m jumping his bones.
What can I say? I’m addicted.
As we set off for the airport, Gunner reaches for my hand, lacing our fingers together on his thigh.
I give him a coy smile. “You’re a man of many secrets, Mr. Ransom. When did you plan this surprise getaway?”
“Probably the night I met you.”
I choke out a laugh. “Come again?”
“Maybe not that night, but shortly after.” He smiles enigmatically, watching my eyes to gauge my reaction to his words. I can’t tell if he’s serious or not, but my heart beats faster just the same.
“Leaving yesterday would have given us more time together, of course. But I didn’t want you to miss class.” Keeping his eyes on mine, he brings our joined hands to his mouth and brushes his lips across my knuckles, sending little tingles down my spine.
“Did you like the red dress?” he murmurs.
“Are you kidding? It’s absolutely stunning,” I gush breathlessly. “I can’t believe you had a dress made for me! A Zuhair Murad dress!”
He chuckles. “It never hurts to have famous friends.”
“I bet,” I say with a grin. “I love everything you bought me, including the sexy lingerie. You have outstanding taste.”
His eyes glimmer. “Can’t wait to see you in it.”
“The dress? Or the lingerie?”
He leans close to whisper in my ear, “Both.”
Delicious heat curls through my body, pulsing between my legs. His bones are definitely getting jumped tonight.
“So,” I say in a breathy voice, “where are you taking me?”
“Kauai,” he responds. “I have a home there.”
I gasp in shock. “We’re going to Hawaii? ”
“We are.” He’s smiling. “Ever visited?”
“No, but I’ve always wanted to!” Overcome with excitement, I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him soundly on the mouth.
He laughs, warm and husky.
“This is so awesome! You’re the best boyfriend ever! ” The moment the words leave my mouth, I realize my mistake and blush furiously. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to call you that. I just . . . I mean . . .” I’m floundering, adrift on a sea of doubt and trying to find the right words to rescue myself. “I know we haven’t defined our relationship?—”
He leans in and kisses me, cutting off my words. “Don’t overthink this,” he whispers against my mouth. “Let’s just enjoy our weekend together, just the two of us. We can worry about labels later.”
I stare into his eyes, then swallow thickly and nod.
When his phone rings, he pulls it out of his pocket and swears under his breath before sending me an apologetic look. “I have to take this.”
“No problem,” I say, smiling. “I’ll just sit here fantasizing about sunny beaches and mai tais.”
He winks at me before bringing the phone to his ear. He talks business until we reach the airport, where we board his custom Gulfstream.
I’ve never been on a private jet and have only flown first class once in my life. So I’m dazzled by the sheer opulence of the cream leather seats, burled wood accents and multi-entertainment screens. There’s also a kitchen, bedroom and an executive lounge for meetings.
“Wow,” I marvel after a quick tour. “This is like a five-star hotel on wheels.”
Gunner chuckles behind me. “Sit wherever you want.”
I choose a window seat, and he settles into the chair next to me. The uber-luxurious plane is another reminder that we’re different people from different worlds.
Once we’re airborne, a smiling flight attendant serves us drinks and lunch. After enjoying the tasty meal, I recline in my plush seat, a blissful sigh slipping from my lips. Flying coach after this is going to be a serious downgrade.
I turn my head to look at Gunner. He appears lazy and relaxed, long fingers stroking the stem of his martini glass as he watches me with hooded eyes. Being the sole focus of such a gorgeous, powerful man is insanely intoxicating.
“How long is the flight?” I ask.
“Eight hours,” he says. “We’ve got lots of time to kill. Do you want to watch a movie?”
“Hmm. Not really.”
“What about cards? I can teach you how to play Texas Hold’em.”
I grin at him. “You know how to play poker?”
He gives me a wry look. “My dad is a recovering gambler.”
“Right.” I bite my lip at the reminder, eyeing him ruefully. “Maybe we can play later.”
“If you want.” He finishes his dirty martini, picks an olive out of the glass and brings it to my lips.
I take it into my mouth, watching his eyes darken as my lips close around his fingers. I chew the gin-soaked olive as we stare at each other, the air between us sizzling with sexual awareness.
“Good?” he murmurs.
“Delicious.”
His sexy smile sends a burst of heat to my pelvis. I squeeze my thighs together, watching as he slowly licks his fingers, tasting traces of me with the liquor.
“So what’re you in the mood for, Miss Somerset?”
“Mmm. I have a couple ideas.”
His gaze dips to my mouth. I wonder if he wants to kiss me as badly as I want to kiss him.
“I’m listening,” he prompts.
Holding his gaze, I rise slowly to my feet and lean down to whisper against his mouth, “I’ll tell you when I get back from the restroom.”
As I pull away, he gives me a darkly seductive smile and warns, “Don’t keep me waiting.”