Page 20 of Bargain With The Boss (Crescent Cove: The Moguls #2)

“Hey.” He hurried forward and wrapped his arm around me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re pale and”—he lifted my hand—“shaking.”

“Why can’t you be oblivious like most men?”

“I am most of the time.” He brought me against his chest. “Just not when it comes to you, I guess.”

“Don’t be nice to me.”

He laughed. “Sorry about that. I’m generally a nice guy.”

I pressed my face into his neck. “Can we take the food to go?”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to Theo.”

“Just like that? No questions?”

“No questions.” He smoothed a hand down my hair. “I’ll take care of it.”

“I’ll wait for you outside,” I said and hurried down the stairs. I couldn’t bear to see the kindness in his eyes right now.

Not when I was being anything but fair to him and my brother.

I rushed through the dining room and past the hostess station. I distantly heard someone ask me if I was okay.

I wasn’t.

Guilt followed me out the door and I practically ran into the parking lot and up the hill toward the water. Laughter and voices from the event faded as I followed a path down near the water. The insistent quack of ducks dented the careening panic.

I sat on a bench, closing my eyes as the cool wind off the water lifted my hair.

The water stopped blurring as the six ducklings following their mama came into focus.

My strangled grip on my wristlet eased.

It had been a panic attack. I could see it so clearly now. I hadn’t had one since high school.

I sucked in a slow breath and blew it out as the last of the shakes abated.

“Syd?”

Xavier’s voice came from up the path.

“Down here,” I called back.

He was frowning as he skidded down the path. “How the hell did you get down here in those shoes?”

I laughed. The last of the coils of nerves in my stomach unfurled. “I can do anything in heels, remember?”

“You okay?” He crouched next to me.

“Yes. Sorry. I guess the day just crashed in on me.”

He laid a hand on my thigh. “Because of earlier?”

“A mix of it all. I haven’t been sleeping well either.”

He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Let’s work a little harder on getting you a place, then. Living in a hotel gets old, even when it’s a nice one.”

“Maybe.”

“You’re not going anywhere, Syd. We have a lot of work to do while Jude’s on his paternity leave.”

“Right. Maybe a place of my own will help.”

Even if it was only temporary.

He stood and held out a hand for me. “I’ll take you home.”

“Sorry to ruin the day.”

“You didn’t. Not even a little bit.” He laced our fingers together and led me up the path.

I looked over my shoulder one last time at the ducks and the calm water.

The ride back to the Sherman Inn was quiet. He’d left the music on low and the sound of the wind was our conversation. It wasn’t uncomfortable, he just seemed to know I needed not to talk.

How did this man know me so well after a few weeks?

More than anyone else in my life these days.

Even Jude.

When he handed the car off to the valet, I didn’t argue.

I didn’t want him to go.

He had our food in one hand and mine in the other.

When I unlocked the door and he put the bags on the table, I knew he wasn’t leaving.

I wasn’t going to let him leave right now.

I leaned against the door and reached down to unwind my shoes from my ankles.

Xavier’s eyes were on me. “Do you want me to go?”

I shook my head as I lost three inches then walked to him barefoot. “Can you just be mine tonight, no strings?”

“Is that what you want?”

I rose onto my toes, brushing my lips along his jaw. “I know I’ve been erratic today. And I’d completely understand if you want to go.”

“I don’t.” His voice was little more than a rumble.

“Let me be selfish for a day.”

He frowned.

I put my finger over his lips. “No strings.”

He nodded and lowered his mouth to mine, then scooped me up into his arms.

I wound my arms around his shoulders, never severing our connection. He tasted of the wine and the sharp balsamic from the bruschetta. He tasted of the wind and the sun.

He tasted like nothing else in my life.

When he walked through the living area to my room, there were no nerves.

I’d been a tool for so many people. My mother, my father, even my brother. This was for me and only me.

I laid my hand against his hair-roughened cheek. The kiss dissolved into a groan as he stretched me out on the king-sized bed. I reached for the buttons of his shirt, wanting nothing but his skin.

He flicked one open then reached back and yanked it over his head before tossing it aside to sit on the edge of the bed.

He was smooth and tanned. A surprising amount of ink was hidden under the linen shirt.

Under the T-shirts and dress shirts. My fingertips raced over the swirls of flame on his shoulder, the surprising rosary that wound around his bicep with the beads melting into the cross.

His other arm was just as inked. This time with an intricate geometric pattern with tons of shading that stopped right at the sleeve of a T-shirt.

We both had been shoved in boxes for a long time.

He just chose to color his box.

I leaned over and licked a trail up the rosary to the flames then over to his chest. I brushed my cheek against the warm skin of his pec catching his sandalwood scent as I moved up to kiss his neck. “You make me feel beautiful. Wanted.” I met his gaze. “Needed.”

“Good. Let me add worshipped.” He rolled me onto my back, caging me into the mattress. “One night isn’t going to be enough.”

“It has to be.”

“Then I’m going to make it count.”