“Because you’re my ‘boss’?” She demanded huskily, reaching for her shirt and pulling it on.
“Because when we sleep together, it won’t be with any doubt in my mind that it’s what you want.”
She stared at him, frowning, her desperate yearning pushed to the back of her mind for now. “Matthieu, what happened?”
He met her eyes unflinchingly.
“Has someone accused you of—,”
He swore. “No. Never.”
She let out a soft breath of relief, but not of surprise. Matthieu wasn’t a man who’d take advantage of a woman. She knew that on a soul-deep level.
“But you’re compromised right now and I’m not going to be some guy who uses that to his advantage. Even when I really, really want to.”
She swallowed past a lump in her throat. He really was just being a gentleman. There was no ulterior motive here, just a desire to be certain she was sure before they slept together.
And there was no longer any sense in fighting the inevitability of this.
Panic flared in her gut, as she looked at that future—one that was dramatically different to what she’d imagined this might be.
“This doesn’t change anything,” she said quickly, self-protectively. After all, her future was back home, on the family property, with the land her dad had loved with all his soul. “I’m still here because you’re paying me. The sex stuff is just…convenient.”
He burst out laughing. “That’s the exact opposite of how I’d describe it. In fact, I think sleeping together is going to make this pretty fucking inconvenient, don’t you?”
* * *
She wasconscious of him every inch of the way. Much later that day, as he expertly cleared the helicopter for take-off, lifting away from the grand property, his grandparents, cousin and aunt, she no longer thought of those people and their lives; there was only Matthieu, his tanned, confident hands moving over the helicopter levers with a level of expertise that made her mouth run dry.
Even the landscape below didn’t catch her attention. She watched him until he flickered his gaze to her, their eyes met and her veins transformed into lava, and then looked away, embarrassed to have been caught staring. Only his hand snaked out, his fingers curving over her knee, the lightest touch setting her pulse racing. When he moved his hand higher, to her thigh, she pressed her head back against the leather seat, eyes closed. His fingers fanned the flesh at the apex of her legs then, teasing her, so she swiveled her head in the seat, eyes landing on him with a heavy thud.
He looked straight ahead, but his hand stayed where it was, his fingers moving slowly, rhythmically, teasing her, until she was at fever pitch. Only when he needed his hand to control the helicopter did he leave her, and she had to press her lips together to stop from letting out a sound of complaint.
The flight was not long, but each moment was an agony.
Finally, Paris appeared, the famous landmarks obvious from the helicopter as he circled lower, finally landing on a rooftop near his office.
From here, his home was only a short drive away, but her patience had been fraying ever since that morning.
She wasn’t sure she could wait until they got home.
This had never happened to Skye before. Not once had she met someone and felt so wild with desire that she could barely control herself.
The blades slowed, and when they finally stopped, he opened his door, stepping out and coming to her side before opening the door and waiting, barely looking at her. Pulse in her throat, Skye stepped out onto ground that felt anything but steady.
He shot out a hand for support but she pulled away.
“I’m okay.” Her voice was a husky croak.
He nodded curtly, gesturing for her to precede him to the door across the roof. She swallowed, making her way there on legs that were unsteady, aware of him with every step, with every inch they traversed. He was at her side, not touching but oh so close. He drew the door inward and she stepped through it, moving towards the top of the stairs, and then he was pulling her towards him, kissing her hard, as though he couldn’t wait, as though there was nothing more important than this, than making her his, than delighting in her taste here, on the steps in his office.
The kiss was hard, his mouth demanding, and she understood. All day she’d craved him. She’d wanted him, and been furious with him for putting a stop to things in the garden, but they hadn’t been alone together since. Until now.
And at the first moment, they’d combusted, heat flaring between them like a solar flare. He lifted her easily, carrying her cradled against his chest, so that if she needed another demonstration of his strength, she had it. At the bottom of the steps, there was another door; he shouldered through it, carrying her into the office building executive floor and straight into his own office before kissing her again, this time as he slid her down his body, planting her feet on the floor as he wrapped his arms around her back and held her tight, kissing her until her whole body was trembling.
“I want you,” he said, simply. “And you want me too.”
“Yes,” she said, because there was no point in denying it.