“I am. It was just a longer night than I had anticipated.”
“He had no right to embarrass you like that.”
The corners of her mouth tilted up into a faint smile. “Thank you again for defending me.”
“Of course.”
Her face softened, her eyes coming alive with gratitude and that affection he’d glimpsed when she’d leaned over to whisper her thanks. It was a sight that both electrified and terrified him.
“It was the right thing to do.”
Her head snapped back as if she’d been slapped.
“The right thing to do?” she repeated.
“Yes.” His body tensed, muscles tightening as his heart tried to resist his rational mind taking over. “We need to present a united front and ensure there is no question of the work either of us is doing.”
She stared at him, her gaze opaque. He stared back. She needed to stop putting him up on a damned white horse and turning him into her knight in shining armor. He wasn’t a hero. He was a strategist, a survivor.
She circled around him and continued toward the elevator. He stood for a minute, frozen in place that she would reject him in such a manner. Yes, his response had been cold. But it didn’t warrant such a cutting rejection.
He turned and started after her. As she got into the elevator and saw him striding toward her, she regarded him with a burning gaze before reaching out and punching a button. The doors swished shut in his face.
He stared at the closed doors for a long moment. No one had ever walked away from him, much less closed a door in his face. He used the time the elevator traveled up and back down to breathe deeply and regain his sense of control. By the time he reached the doors to Briony’s suite, he had his temper mostly back under control.
Mostly.
He knocked once.
“Go away.”
He sighed as Briony’s muffled voice traveled through the door.
“Briony, can we please talk?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
He tried the handle, surprised when it turned under his touch. The door swung open to reveal Briony slipping out of her dress, the material pooling about her feet and leaving her clad in nothing but black lace.
God, but she was beautiful. Slim legs, rounded hips, pert breasts straining against the cups of her bra. All he had to do was think about her and he stirred.
“Cass!”
She grabbed a blanket off the bed and wrapped it around her body.
“I did knock.”
“And the door was closed!” she snapped.
“Should I go?”
She glared at him but didn’t respond. He shut the door and walked into the room, taking slow, purposeful steps toward her. Judging by the blush creeping up her neck, she was just as affected as he was.
“In the Midwest, most people know a closed door means we don’t want anyone coming in.” Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as her gaze traveled down his body. Every step made him harder, amped up his desire until it took every ounce of willpower not to lunge forward and sweep her into his arms.
A distant warning sounded in his mind. This was what Aunt Alecine had told him about, this all-consuming passion that wiped out all rational thought and made one a fool. This was how she had fallen so low.
He pushed the warning away. He would address it later. Right now, he wanted her, his future wife, in his arms.