In Your Eyes (Man of the Month 6)

They walked in silence for a moment until they reached the room. He opened the door and they stepped into the living area of a stunning suite, with bedrooms on either side.

She stood still, not interested in the room. Only in him. "I really don't know," she repeated.

"Then let me answer the question. You are, Megan. You're of great value to me."

She tilted her head so that she could see his face better, trying to discern if this was the truth or a line. But all she saw was sincerity. And there was nothing evasive in his voice.

"Why?"

"Maybe because I think you might understand what I've accomplished. What I'm still trying to accomplish."

She shook her head. "I don't know what you mean."

"Well, look what you've done. You left a job at Sephora at an Oklahoma City mall at twenty-one and went to LA by yourself with nothing but a dream and a little bit of cash."

"How did you--"

"You worked three jobs while you got your cosmetology license, then you ordered a box of business cards and offered a card to pretty much everyone you met. The business grew slowly, but it grew, and by the time you turned twenty-six, you had a solid career working with portrait photographers before shoots and name brand celebrities before events."

He flashed an innocent smile. "Don't forget, I know a few of your clients, and they all like to gossip. And what you built wasn't shabby."

"Yeah, well, I don't have much of it left now." Immediately, she regretted the words. She hadn't told him why she'd run from LA, and she hadn't asked him to not tell Carlton where she was. But now he was probably going to ask why she bolted, and she really didn't want to talk about it.

But all he said was, "That's why they call it a fresh start, sweetheart. You'll build it up again. After all, you already know that you can. And gaining the confidence is the hardest part."

She peered at him, trying to discern if he knew why she'd wanted that fresh start. She couldn't tell. But at least he seemed to respect it. Which meant that he probably wasn't sending telegrams back to Los Angeles announcing where the long lost Megan Carter had got off to.

Even so, she should probably specifically mention that she was keeping a low profile and ask him not to post on social media, too. Just to be sure.

After all, loitering black cars made her twitchy. How much worse would it be if she suspected that Carlton knew where to find her? Assuming he even still cared. Which he probably didn't. It had been months; surely he'd moved on.

"It's late, Megan," he said before she'd gathered her thoughts. "And I'm tired. But here's the bottom line. I'm not interested in a fast fuck. I don't do that anymore. But I'm also not proposing marriage. Hell, I'm not even asking you to go steady. All I'm saying is that I want you for more than one night. You fascinate me, Megan. You always have. You light a fire inside me, and unless I'm mistaken, I think I make you burn, too."

He ran his fingers through his hair, looking both sexy and exhausted. "If I led you on, I'm sorry. But it was worth it to spend the time with you. And I'll get you back to Austin first thing in the morning."

He reached out and took her hand, then lifted it and pressed a soft kiss to her palm. "Your bedroom's over there. Goodnight, Megan. I'm sure I'll see you in my dre

ams."

Chapter Nine

Needless to say, Megan couldn't sleep.

She was in his dreams?

Boy, could she beat that. Because Megan didn't even need to go to sleep for Parker Manning to fill her head.

Was he lying in his bed, sound asleep, while she tossed and turned, a mess of sensual longing and unfulfilled need?

Or was he, like her, lost in fantasies? Was he imagining coming to her door and slowly turning the knob? Was he closing his eyes and picturing the way she'd respond if he reached for her in the dark and gently stroked her shoulder before sitting on the edge of the bed and tugging down the sheet to reveal her bare breasts, her nipples tight and hard with longing?

She sighed, unable to ignore the insistent warm glow spreading over her body in response to her decadent thoughts. And since they'd come without luggage, she was naked under the sheet, and the cool cotton felt incredible on her overheated skin.

I want you to want me.

Was that what he'd said? Because oh, God, she did want him.

Not a fast fuck. Not a one-time thing.