Aspen groaned. How could she even think about staying longer under the shade of such conflicting emotions?
The simple answer was that she couldn’t. And dwelling on it wasn’t going to make it any different.
Decision made, she spun on her heel and went to pack her suitcase.
* * *
Cruz looked up, annoyed, as his PA opened the door to his meeting. It was taking him all that he had to concentrate as it was, without yet another irritating interruption.
‘What is it, Maria?’
He frowned as he heard Aspen’s hasty, ‘It’s okay...don’t interrupt...’ in the background.
Maria glanced over her shoulder. ‘Ah, Señorita Carmichael wishes to speak with you.’
‘Send her in.’
Aspen materialised in the doorway and Cruz saw her suitcase by the side of the door.
He frowned harder. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I can see you’re busy.’ She threw a quick glance around the room at his executive team. ‘It can wait.’
‘No, it can’t.’ He pinned her with a hard look, unaccountably agitated as he registered her intention to leave him. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘No, no. I just came to say goodbye. I didn’t want to leave without letting you know I was going.’
‘I thought you had decided to stay?’
She swallowed. ‘Our deal was concluded this morning and—’
Cruz swore. ‘I thought I’d already told you to forget the deal. It’s not relevant. I’m not going to buy Ocean Haven any more. It’s yours free and clear.’
A myriad of emotions crossed her lovely face, not completely unlike the morning when he had first told her that he was going to challenge her for The Farm.
Disbelief, shock, wariness, a tentative joy...
Three days ago he wouldn’t have conceived of giving up something he wanted as much as he had wanted Ocean Haven, but a lot had changed in three days. He’d found out the truth about the night he’d left The Farm and he’d made love to Aspen. Held her in his arms all night. Woken with her still in his arms in the morning. When he looked at her he felt things he’d never felt for any woman before her. Feelings he was still unable to categorize.
‘Really?’ She took a hesitant step towards him. ‘You’re serious? It’s mine?’
‘Yes,’ he said gruffly, wondering why it was that he couldn’t look at her without wanting to strip her clothes off.
‘Oh, Cruz...’
She looked as if she might cry, and just when he was about to back away she gave a gurgle of laughter and rushed over to him, jumping up to wind her arms around his neck. Instinctively Cruz grasped the backs of her thighs, and it seemed completely natural to raise her legs and lock them around his hips.
In an instant the chemistry between them ignited and he filled his hands with her taut curves as he sought to steady them both.
‘Thank you, thank you... This means so much to me. You have no idea.’
Before he could formulate a sane response she leant forward and kissed him, her silky tongue sneaking out to wrap around his. Cruz held in a groan and took charge of the kiss. This was what he’d wanted from the minute he’d woken up this morning.
Then he’d held himself back. Now, with her honeyed taste on his tongue, he didn’t bother. Her mouth was the greatest aphrodisiac he’d ever known.
She moved her hips and Cruz pressed himself more snugly against the seam of her jeans. She murmured something and he almost ignored it, but the words ‘We’re not alone...’ and ‘Everyone is watching...’ somehow permeated his addled brain.
He glanced around at his stunned executive team. She was right. Not one of them had looked away and he couldn’t say he blamed them. He was just as shocked that he’d forgotten they were still in the room as they were at seeing him with a woman locked in his arms.
He released a careful breath.
‘Excuse me, everyone. I’m going to have to adjourn this meeting. Again.’
He held Aspen as still as a statue until the door snicked closed. Then he devoured her, pulling at her clothes and unzipping his jeans. He shoved aside the laptop on the mahogany table and laid her down. Her shirt was open around her and her breasts were heaving against the delicate cups of her plain white bra. She looked wild and wanton, her hair spilling out of the French braid she had secured it in. His hands skimmed her, claimed her, and she arched up off the table towards him.
‘That door isn’t locked,’ she got out between gasps of pleasure.