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Maybe he was tired? Maybe he was just depleted now and eager to get to his bed.

She wouldn’t mind a glass of water herself, and while they weren’t helpless, they were currently stranded in the desert.

But a part of her protested the idea.

If it was considered rude to use one’s phone at the dinner table, it seemed like the rule would apply the moments following an experience like the one she had just shared with Jag.

Never in her wildest dreams had she ever imagined that sex would be anything like what had just happened between them.

No wonder the world was obsessed.

No wonder Jag had been so certain it would change things between them.

Rita didn’t think it was possible to open oneself to another human being the way that they each had just done and have things remain static between them—but after her night with him she no longer agreed that it couldn’t be done.

Remaining strangers couldn’t be done, but that wasn’t because they’d had sex. It was because over the course of the past weeks, they’d become friends.

They could see their arrangement through simply because they cared about supporting each other.

If anything, she was more sure of that now than she had been before.

In fact, watching Jag, the only thing she could even think of to change was the comedown, and even on that front was willing to accept that there were drawbacks to outside in the moonlight.

Wrapping up his conversation, Jag hung up the phone before saying to Rita, “Our ride will arrive shortly. We should make our way back to the car and the road—the time it will take us to get there should mean our path and the driver’s will converge upon arrival.”

His tone was all business and clipped, nothing like the way he’d been talking to her since they’d left the exhibition, nor even over the past weeks. Resisting the urge to frown, she told herself it was a sign he had realized the same thing.

However, after his next words she began to wonder that they had not come to exactly the same place.

The administrative clip in his voice confirmed her suspicions when he said, “Don’t forget your bracelets. I set them just there,” he said, pointing to the small pile of precious jewels beside her jacket, before adding, “and about tonight...” He paused, as if he searched for the words and they did not come easily. But then he confused her even more, with his next words. “In the interest of keeping things simple, I suggest we put this little incident behind us and return to business as usual, moving forward.”

While she had been thinking in a similar vein, her train of thought had contained some very critical differences, including the character and nature of what they had shared.

Was he serious? Business as usual?It seemed pretty clear to Rita that that wasn’t one of the options on their table.

But it was clear he thought it was, and not knowing what else to do, she simply nodded.

There was no route by which she could return to the way things had been before, but if he thought that meant they must be even more vigilant that it should never happen again, then she couldn’t coerce him.

Instead, she said, “Sure,” lightly, matching his energy.

He said nothing to her anemic reply, and she took his silence as a reprieve from the effort of pretending to be less affected than she was.

With wobbly hands, she tugged the zipper of her suit, snagging it when she came to the collar seam at the base of her neck.

“Let me help,” he said, his warm fingers replacing her rapidly chilling ones to clasp the tiny metal tag. His hands lingered on her neck, warm and tender, before leaving with a light caress, its faint touch so soft it could have been accidental.

Then he stepped away from her once more, and the coldness rushed back in to surround them again.

Though she had been coming to feel like she was learning to read him, she could not understand him now.

Rather than his usual firm and efficient, his actions now appeared brittle and edgy, and yet outwardly he merely ensured they would make it home before daylight.

When she was dressed once more, they made their way back down the crumbling staircase to the desert floor, and from there they walked quietly back to the wrecked vehicle they had abandoned earlier.

As he had predicted, their driver awaited their arrival in a sleek black town car.

Once he saw them, the driver stepped out holding in his hands a bundle of folded clothing.


Tags: Marcella Bell Billionaire Romance