“WE’RE here.”
The whisper is soft against my ear, and Landon’s warm breath stirs the hairs on my neck. My eyes flutter open. It’s still dark outside, but we’re parked in the drive of a beautiful house. Landon has his arm around my shoulders, his hand gently caressing my arm.
I stretch slowly. “How long have we been on the road?”
“Four hours,” he replies, “and you’ve been asleep about two of those.” He waits while I smooth my hair. “You ready?”
I nod and he gently removes his arm from around me, then opens the door on his side just as Joe comes to open my door.
Immediately I’m hit with the smell of salt and surf. I can hear the distant sound of waves, though I can’t see the sea from where we are. The driveway is paved and edged with shrubs, up to the steps that lead to the porch. There, a wide, green door leads inside, while the porch stretches across the whole front of the house.
“Do you own this too?” I turn to Landon, remembering the beautiful house in San Francisco.
“No.” He takes my hand. “It belongs to a friend. He loaned it to me for the weekend.”
“You have friends?” I tease, laughing. I’d only ever met one of his buddies, the irrepressible restaurateur, Cameron McDaniel. “And here I thought you were a robot.”
He looks hurt. “You met Cameron.”
“I knew you’d play that card,” I reply. “One friend. That’s pathetic.”
“This makes two.”
I shrug, eager to maintain my high ground. “Still not healthy.” I follow him to the front door. “How’s Cameron, by the way? And Julia?
“They’re still heavily pregnant.” Landon opens the door and lets me go in before him. Inside, the décor is simple and almost rustic. Comfortable furniture, polished wood floors, a modern kitchen, and sliding glass doors from the dining area to a wooden deck overlooking the ocean.
“Your friend is lucky,” I tell Landon. “I’d live here and pretend to be writing a book, just so nobody would ask why I never leave home.”
Landon laughs. “You’d miss your job.”
I shrug nonchalantly. “I wouldn’t have to deal with arrogant billionaires nudging my boss into sending me on assignments just so they can seduce me.”
A smile plays on his lips. “One day you’ll forgive me for that.”
I give him a coquettish look. “What makes you think I’m talking about you?”
He makes a sound like a growl. “If anybody else tried to pull a stunt like that with you, I’d probably…” He shakes his head. “I don’t even want to think about it.”
His possessiveness amuses me, and also stirs a small flame of pleasure inside.
I hold out my hand to him. “Let’s go to bed,” I say softly. “I’m tired.”
WE make love, slowly and sweetly, holding on tightly until sated and exhausted, we both fall asleep. In the morning, I’m awoken by the cries of seagulls. Landon isn’t with me on the bed, but I find him on the back patio, watching the waves as they crash against the sand. He’s wearing only a pair of pajama bottoms, the well-defined muscles of his back disappearing at the waistband, and the outline of his firm butt very clear through the light material.
I burrow into his back, plastering my body against him. “Aren’t you cold?”
“Not anymore.” He relaxes into me. “Good morning.”
“Hey,” I reply. “How did you sleep?”
He turns around so he’s facing me. “Perfectly.”
It wasn’t his nightmares that woke him then. I sigh, satisfied, and lift up my face to place a kiss on his lips.
He kisses me back, his hand stroking my waist through my robe. “You must be hungry,” he says, when he releases my lips. “Let’s eat.”
I follow him to the kitchen, where he whips up an omelet and pancakes with the expertise of a professional chef, a skill he picked up while spending most of his growing up years in a hotel.