She would see just how much Callum could ignore her then.
Callum got up the next morning feeling as tired as he’d been when he went to bed past midnight. He had tossed and turned most of the night, frustrated that he hadn’t taken the opportunity to taste Gemma’s lips when the chance to do so had been presented to him.
Every part of his body hardened with the memory of a pair of luscious lips that had been barely a breath away from his. And when she had tilted her head even more to him, placing her lips within a tongue reach, he had felt the lower part of his body throb.
The desire that had flowed between them had been anything but one-sided. Charged sensations as strong as any electrical current had surged through both their bodies and he had fought back the urge to unsnap her seat belt and pull her into his lap while lapping her mouth with everything he had.
He remembered the conversations they’d shared and how she’d tried staying on course by being the consummate professional. While she’d been talking, his gaze had been fixated on her mouth. He couldn’t recall a woman who could look both sexy and sweet at the same time, as well as hot and cool when the mood suited her. He loved all the different facets of Gemma, and he planned on being a vital part of each one of them. How could any man not want to?
Minutes later, after taking a shower and getting dressed, he left his hotel room to walk a few doors down to where Gemma had spent the night. Just the thought that she had been sleeping so close had done something to him. He wondered if she had gotten a good night’s sleep. Or had she tossed and turned most of the night, as he had? Probably not. He figured she had no idea what sexual frustration was all about. And if she did, he didn’t want to know about it, especially if some other man ruled her thoughts.
The possibility of that didn’t sit well with him, since he couldn’t handle the thought of Gemma with any other man but him. He pulled in a deep breath before lifting his hand to knock on her door.
“Who is it?”
“Callum.”
“Just a moment.”
While waiting, he turned to study the design of the wallpaper that covered the expanse of the wall that led to the elevator. It was a busy design, but he had to admit that it matched the carpet perfectly, pulling in colors he would not have normally paid attention to.
He shook his head, remembering that Gemma had gone on and on about different colors and how her job would be to coordinate them to play off each other. He was surprised that he could recall any of her words when the only thoughts going through his mind had been what he’d like doing to her physically.
“Come on in, Callum. I just need to grab a jacket,” she said upon opening the door.
He turned around and immediately sucked in a deep breath. He had to lean against the doorframe to keep from falling. His Gemma wasn’t wearing jeans and a top today. Instead, she was dressed in a tan-colored skirt that flowed to her ankles, a pair of chocolate-suede, medium-heeled shoes and a printed blouse. Seeing her did something to every muscle, every cell and every pore of his body. And his gut twisted in a knot. She looked absolutely stunning. Even her hair was different. Rather than wearing it in a ponytail she had styled it to hang down to her shoulders.
He’d only seen her a few other times dressed like this, and that had been when they’d run into each other at church. He entered the room and closed the door behind him, feeling a gigantic tug in his chest as he watched her move around the room. He became enmeshed in her movements and how graceful and fluid they were.
“Did you get a good night’s sleep, Callum?”
He blinked when he noticed that she stood staring at him, smiling. Was he imagining things or did he see amusement curving her lips? “I’m sorry, what did you ask?”
“I wanted to know if you got a good night’s sleep. I’m sure it felt good being back home.”
He thought about what she said and although he could agree that it was good being back home, it felt even better having her here with him. He’d thought about this a number of times, dreamed that he would share his homeland with her. He had six weeks and he intended to make every second, minute and hour count.
Apparently, she was waiting for his response. “Sleep didn’t come easy. I guess I’m suffering from jet lag. And, yes, I’m glad to be home,” he said, checking his watch. “Ready to go down for breakfast?”