“A person doesn’t have to get married to abate loneliness. She could have gotten a dog, you know.”
His expression became thoughtful and he asked a bit too casually, “Like Yoda?”
She spun toward him. “Yoda is my best friend and not because I’m lonely. Far from it.”
Had she sounded defensive? What was she saying? She was defensive.
“A dog is your best friend?”
“Obviously you’ve never had a dog or you wouldn’t ask that question.” She glared at him. Of course he wouldn’t understand. How could he? He’d probably never been lonely a day in his life and if he ever was, all he had to do was crook his sexy little finger and women would come running to do his bidding.
Not that she was lonely. She so wasn’t.
“You’re right,” he admitted, meeting her glare head on. “I’ve never had a dog. I always wanted one while I was growing up, but Mom’s allergic to pet dander.”
“Poor little rich kid.”
One side of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. “I’m not going to get any sympathy from you, am I?”
“No.” She turned back, gestured to the mansion still easily visible in the distance. “That’s your house, Vale. Not even your main house, but your East Coast beach house. It looks more like a modern-day castle.”
“That’s my mother’s house. Not mine. I live in a Manhattan condominium.”
“In a building your family owns.” She took a deep breath, gave him her pretty-as-you-please smile. “Besides, the room where we slept, that’s your room.”
“How do you know?”
As if she could not know. “You’re stamped all over the place.”
He chuckled. “I’m what?”
“The medical magazines, the toiletries in the bathroom.” She resumed walking away from the house. “I don’t know specifically what it is, just that the room looks like you.”
“I look like a bedroom?”
Oh, yeah, she looked at him and saw a big bed. With their naked bodies twined together. He looked like sex. Sex she couldn’t have. Not with him, and she’d never wanted sex with anyone else. Why did he have to be the one to make her body come alive? Why him? A rich playboy who was her boss and frustrated her so much?
“Let’s change the subject,” she ground out, wanting to hit him for the mess he’d made of her emotions. She’d been able to keep her attraction to him neatly tucked away until this weekend.
Why had he had to push her into coming when she’d known she shouldn’t?
Faith hadn’t thought it possible that she’d doze off when Vale had ordered her to lie down for a nap—a nap!—while he showered. But her lack of sleep from the night before and the beach air must have been working on her because when she opened her eyes after what she’d thought had only been a few minutes, he had finished showering and was gone.
He’d left a note on the bedside table, saying he’d see her at the wedding but wouldn’t likely come back to the room prior to the ceremony.
She glanced at her watch. Wow. She’d slept for almost two hours. She’d better get started or she’d be late.
Donning the dress she’d instantly known was “the one” when she’d seen it in the shop, she zipped the side zipper, loving the body-hugging shape of the emerald-colored dress with its flounced hemline.
Usually she dressed to blend in with her surroundings. As a woman competing in what many still considered a man’s world, she’d always felt the need to tamp down her sexuality. Not today.
Today, she wanted to feel all woman.
Today, she did feel all woman.
Because of Vale and the way he kept looking at her.
She still wanted to pinch herself that he wanted her, that she was the one holding back on them having a weekend fling.