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“You can take me back to bed.”
He shoved his chair away, and she witnessed for herself just how aroused he was. Before he could scoop her up, she placed a hand on his chest. “Some women like angry sex, Noah. I’m not one of them.”
He leaned both hands on the arms of her chair and lowered his face to hers. “One day you’ll trust me to know exactly whatyou want. You’ll trust me to know how to fuck you into a mood or out of it.” He brushed his lips over hers. “And you’ll know that me being angry doesn’t translate to angry sex. Sex between us is sacred. It will never be an outlet that causes distress, but a joy that lifts our souls. Tell me you understand that?” he rasped against her lips.
She curled her hand over his heart, absorbed its steady beat, and her world tilted beneath her feet. “Yes, I do.”
He picked her up and walked her past the billowing muslin curtains that framed the French windows, past the living room with eighteenth-century chandeliers, Carrara marble floors and gilt-frame mirrors.
In their bedroom, he laid her on the rumpled sheets of their four-poster bed and started unbuttoning her shirt. Looking into his face, Leia couldn’t deny that something had shifted again between them, taken them another rung up from the bathroom incident.
Their initial white-hot chemistry was transcending into something else, something she couldn’t quite describe. The raw, unfettered need in his eyes reflected the need writhing inside her.
“Noah…”
The phone beside the bed rang, startling them both. He released the last button and sat up, reefing his hand through his hair.
“This had better be important.” He grabbed the handset and barked, “King.”
He listened for a beat. “Who is this?” His voice was less irritated, but puzzled eyes shifted to her. “It’s for you.” He held out the phone to her and leaned against the bedpost.
She sat up and pulled her shirt closed. Noah saw it and his jaw tightened.
“Hello?”
“Hello, my dear. Who’s your friend?” Warren asked.
Her gaze flicked to where Noah lounged, arms folded, narrowed blue eyes firmly on her.
“His name is Noah.”
“Does he know who you are?”
More than I would ever have believed possible.But she knew what Warren was asking:Does he know how damaged you are?Sucking in a short breath, she answered, “No. I don’t think so.”
“Will you be volunteering that information?” Warren pressed, his voice eerily unflappable.
“Maybe, I haven’t given it much thought.”Liar.
“Are you sure?”
“You taught me to trust my instincts, Warren. It doesn’t help me if you let me start questioning them.”
Noah’s interest sharpened, his eyes narrowing further.
“That wasn’t my intention. I was merely urging you to exercise caution. Don’t do anything foolish.”
Too late…
“I won’t.” She caught a strand of hair and twisted it between her fingers.
Noah rose from where he sat and prowled closer. Catching her chin in his hand, he raised her face and stared at her, his expression fierce. His sheer willpower bore down on her with compelling force. She swallowed. “Do you need anything else? I have to go.”
Warren’s pointed hesitation was a cool rebuke for rushing him. “I sent you the documents the board needs signed days ago. Production won’t start on the autumn collection until we have your signature. Your delay in returning them is unacceptable.”
His tone made her feel like a recalcitrant child. “I’m sorry, it skipped my mind.”
“If you could see to it, I’d like to have it back by close of play today.”