Page 106 of Boss of Me

“Yeah.” I smile against her lips. “I’ll never look at this table again without getting hard as a rock.”

She laughs, her cheeks pinking. “That could be a problem.”

“You think?” I tease, pulling up my pants. As I lift her off the table, she wraps her arms and legs around me. I hug her body close to mine, feeling an overwhelming desire to protect her. Cherish her. Worship her.

Scary. Very fucking scary.

As I carry her out the door, she asks teasingly, “Where are we going?”

“The bedroom,” I rumble. “We’ve got several hours to kill, and I know the perfect way to do it.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

marlowe

We arrive on the island ofKauai early afternoon local time. As we deplane, a chauffeured Maserati is waiting on the tarmac along with a black SUV containing Gunner’s security detail.

Wearing colorful leis around our necks, we set off for his vacation home. I spend most of the ride with my face pressed to the window, awed by the sparkling blue ocean, sculptured green mountains, cascading waterfalls and endless stretches of golden sand beach.

We travel along a narrow highway that hugs the coastline. Thirty minutes later, the car turns onto a mountain road lined with swaying palm trees. After a mile or so, we pass through a gated entrance and drive past acres of manicured green grass. At the top of the hill stands a sprawling white stucco mansion.

I suck in a breath, grabbing Gunner’s arm as if he’s never seen the property before. He chuckles softly against my hair.

The stunning mansion sits on a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It’s surrounded by lush tropical gardens with a fountain at the center of the circular drive.

As we pull into the courtyard fronting the house, the estate manager and two of his staff members stand ready to greet us.

When we emerge from the car, Gunner shakes hands with the manager and introduces him to me as David Kapono.

“Aloha,” says the fortysomething Hawaiian man, his dark eyes as warm as his smile. “Welcome to Kauai.”

“Thank you,” I say, beaming. “I’m thrilled to be here.”

“Is this your first visit to our beautiful island?”

“It is.”

“But it won’t be her last,” Gunner says.

My heart skips two beats. When I look at him, he winks at me.

As the servants retrieve our luggage, Gunner guides me up the wide stone steps and into an entrance hall that could double as a luxurious hotel lobby. The floors are white marble, the domed ceiling has a skylight, and two curved staircases rise to the second floor.

“Wow,” I breathe in awe.

Gunner smiles. “Let me give you a tour.”

Boasting nine bedrooms, the mansion has soaring ceilings, beautiful tile work and high-end furnishings. Tall glass windows let in tons of natural light, blurring the lines between inside and outside. Warm earth tones abound, and every room commands an ocean view.

“As if your house back home isn’t amazing enough,” I marvel as we stand on the balcony off the master suite. From here we can see the whole estate spread out below. It spans two hundred acres dotted with palm and banyan trees and lush vegetation. Besides the main residence, there are two guest cottages, a greenhouse, a tennis court, and a private beach and lagoon.

“Do you vacation here often?” I ask Gunner.

“Not as often as I should.”

“Because you’re a workaholic,” I say half teasingly.

“I am,” he admits. “I enjoy making money. The harder I work, the more I earn.”