“Then it’s good I rented a whole bunch of movies. Your on-demand options are impressive.”
He could hardly wait to see that bill. “Are you done?”
“Enjoying the house? Not even close.” She continued to sit there with one leg crossed over the other, her pink slipper bouncing up and down.
The robe slipped, treating him to miles of toned thigh. When she didn’t rush to close the material again, a new sensation hit him. She was making a point but she might also be making a play.
Now he needed to know what she had on under there and how long it would take him to peel it off her.
But he forced his mind to focus. He looked around again, wondering how long it had taken her to make this much mess and how many days it would take him to undo it. “I’m assuming this is your way of saying you don’t appreciate the manner in which I moved you in here.”
Even he had to admit he’d crossed a line, but he wasn’t up for a debate about something he thought should be simple. Today, Spence had agreed to come into the office for a few hours, and Derrick knew Ellie had made plans to spend a few hours with Vanessa. It struck him as the perfect time to get the job done.
He’d taken care of it all, which meant delegating to Jackson. The bigger benefit—he thought—was shutting down Ellie’s attempts to stall by complaining about packing.
The plan may have worked if he hadn’t gotten tied up in a meeting that ran long. He’d planned to meet up with Ellie before she’d headed to her apartment. To warn her. That had failed.
“Derrick, this is better than any hotel.” She wore one of those sickeningly sweet smiles that silently telegraphed her desire to push someone in front of a speeding bus. “I plan to stay right here. And I mean right here. In this spot. With my boxes stacked all around me as I collect more and more stuff. Now that I know the official address for your house I can have even more boxes delivered.”
“Okay, I get it.”
Her head fell to the side as she stared up at him. “Do you?”
He should be furious or at least frustrated. He was turned on. Like, ten-seconds-from-stripping-that-robe-off-her turned on.
What he should do is explain the reason for his actions then get back to work. End any temptation and not go near her.
All good thoughts…smart. But he didn’t intend to do any of it. No, they were going to be naked and soon. Her legs wrapped around him. Her mouth on his. The wall, the couch, the floor. He didn’t care where so long as they got there soon.
He walked over to her. Maneuvered through the piles and kicked aside more than one stray shoe. No question her entire closet now rested on his floor.
She didn’t bother to move the chips or the pillows she had stacked on one side of her, so he picked the coffee table. Sliding some books aside, he sat across from her, right next to her legs.
Through it all, she watched him. Her expression bordered on a smile. A satisfied one. Clearly she enjoyed this moment and the statement she was making.
That seemed fair, because he was a reluctant fan, too. “I may have been a little heavy-handed in my approach to making your relocation happen.”
She rolled her eyes. “Saying ‘I’m sorry’ would have been a shorter sentence.”
He held in a smile. “True.”
“Do you want to try it? I promise it won’t hurt at all.” Her voice dipped lower, grew sexier, as she finally put aside the chips and the magazine and folded her hands on her lap.
His mind went back to that robe. Her long, sexy legs were right next to him. He glanced over, taking in the bare skin and those muscles, all sleek and sexy. Suddenly he had only one question…
“What are you wearing under that?”
Amusement danced in her eyes as she reached for the belt and untied it. The slow reveal had his heart hammering in his chest. She must have sensed it because she took her time peeling the sides apart to reveal a pair of running shorts and a formfitting tank top. On her, the combination was just about the hottest thing ever.
His gaze traveled down her neck and over the slope of her shoulder. To her chest. Had she skipped the bra?
Damn…
She snapped her fingers. “That apology?”
Maybe it was the way she sat there, looking ready to do battle, but his usual hate-to-lose-at-anything armor fell. “I should have talked to you first.”
Silence thumped between them after he ended the sentence. For a few seconds they sat there.
“That’s it?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She sighed at him. “Try again.”
Apparently his defenses hadn’t fallen far enough for her liking. “I was attempting to honor our agreement.”
“For the record, you’re getting farther away from an actual apology, not closer.” She glared at him.