Chapter 3 #2
He smiled, letting his gaze dance over her beautiful face, her cocoa eyes, her silky hair. “I couldn’t let anything happen to such a beautiful woman.”
“Or an ugly man,” she said, harking back to their earlier conversation.
What he didn’t say was that he couldn’t let anything happen to a woman he was already falling for, from the moment he’d seen her on that sidewalk. Even before he’d seen the car. It was the craziest thought. Because he didn’t do love. He didn’t even do relationships.
But there was something about her that made him want to.
She leaned close, elbows on the table, her glass near her lips. “If that car had taken us both out, what would be the three things you’d regret not having done?”
The question took him totally off guard. His first thought was that he’d regret not having fallen completely in love with her.
But talking about love or relationships or work—or even their last names—was off the table. What did that leave?
“I’d regret not having bought a sports car and driven it across Europe.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. “You mean you don’t already have a sports car?” she said, tongue in cheek.
He laughed, feeling the corners of his eyes crinkling. “No. I’ve never driven across Europe either. That’s why it’s on the list of things I’d regret not doing.” Then he added more seriously, “I’d have to let someone else take the reins while I did it. I wouldn’t forget all my responsibilities.”
She ran her gaze over him. “You don’t look like a man who would ever forget his responsibilities. You look like someone who has a goal and doesn’t let anything stop him. Nothing. Ever.”
He marveled that she could see him so clearly after just a couple of hours.
“That’s why you want to let go for a little while as you drive your luxurious sports car across Europe.” She blinked, smiled. “For how long?”
The answer was immediate, as if he’d already planned the trip. “Two months. Long enough to relax, but not enough to neglect my life back home.” Then, for some inexplicable reason, he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, didn’t like how edgy it suddenly made him feel. “What’s number one for you?”
She rolled another sip of her Toasted Almond around her mouth. Christ, he loved how she savored that drink. He imagined that was how she savored everything, from food to sex.
“I’d also like to take a break,” she mused. “Not two months, maybe just two weeks. I want to lay on a beach somewhere and let my brain explore all the possibilities about what my life could be like.”
He grinned. “Sounds like we’re pretty similar in our first things.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What’s the second thing you’d want to do?”
To be on that beach with you. Somewhere tropical with warm waters, where I could swim out into the waves, take you in my arms, and touch you everywhere under the water.
His thoughts were becoming decidedly erotic.
What he said was completely different. “I’d like to take a week and just read.
No business books. Just fiction that lets me escape real life for a little while.
” He’d recently come across an interesting article.
“I read about this group in England that sponsors reading retreats. That’s all you do. Read.”
She gaped. “You don’t even eat?”
He shook his head, laughing. “Oh yeah, you eat. The best food. But you’re even allowed to read at the table.”
“Do you hear yourself?” She leaned forward. “You picked two things that suggest you need to relax more rather than doing and going.”
He considered her. She was right. Both of his wishes suggested he wanted to get away from it all.
Especially if he could get away from it all with her.
He admitted only, “Yeah, but I actually love what I do.” He jutted his chin at her. “What’s your next thing? Or let’s call them wishes. What’s your next wish?”
She totally surprised him by the depth of her answer. “I’d like to learn to trust more and fear less.”
Her words struck him so hard, the only thing he could say was a nebulous, “Wow.”
But she made him think about himself. It was true he didn’t trust when it came to love. Because love meant giving everything, your whole being. Which also meant expecting too much. And having too much expected of him.
His parents had loved with everything in them.
Their love had been all-consuming, causing them to neglect their children, leaving Clay and his siblings with a series of nannies who never filled up the well of love that kids needed.
They’d died in an avalanche while skiing in the Alps, just after he’d started high school.
Even in death, they’d gone together. For him, loving meant giving over everything to that love.
But that would mean losing sight of all his goals, all the things he wanted to accomplish. Losing part of himself.
Yet he’d thought of falling in love with her.
What the hell did that mean?
He would have liked to probe her answer more, but he didn’t want her probing him in return—at least not his heart.
Instead, he jumped into his third wish, his eyes on hers, drinking her in. “My last wish is to kiss you.”
Saskia couldn’t help laughing. Wasn’t that so billionaire-ish? Just flat out saying what you wanted.
Yet her skin heated with a full-body flush. She imagined his lips on her—not just her mouth, but every part of her. And her lips on him, all over him.
She’d have to start fanning herself if she didn’t get her thoughts under control.
His answers, though? She loved them. He couldn’t possibly be as bad as she’d thought when she’d read about him and watched his interviews.
He hadn’t told her much of anything that was truly deep—she’d revealed far more—but he’d still given her a few insights, especially that he was dying for a breath of fresh air, for a chance to step away from his responsibilities, if only for a couple of months.
She liked his goal-oriented reading—maybe she needed to do more of that too—his favorite movies, his favorite shows. Maybe she should take a break from her supernatural shows and try one of his.
Maybe she should try him .
The idea was crazy. Totally unlike her. Yet today was unlike any other. Being with him was unlike being with any other man.
This day, this man, this chance at something fresh and sweet after near death…
She upped the ante. Maybe she wanted to shock him. Or maybe she just wanted him.
With a sensual smile that felt so right, she murmured, “My number three is going to bed with you.” The words sounded so nonchalant he might have taken them for a joke.
Except his eyes blazed like a raging fire. She knew exactly who he was. But she didn’t care right now. Because he was so damned hot. Because it had been such a horribly long dry spell. Five years. Her ex-boyfriend was such a creep, she hadn’t gone near a man since.
Not until Clay Harrington.
Just for one night. She’d never have to see him again. But more than anything she’d wanted in five long years, she wanted this one night with him.
So she asked, “You want to go upstairs?”