Your Fierce Love (The Bennett Family 7)

“It makes you happy,” he states with a smile. I swear my toes curl all on their own. Does Blake know how swoonworthy he sounds when he says those things? Evidently not, because he’s not using his seductive voice or his playful voice. There is no secret agenda; he genuinely means it. Which makes it all the more swoonworthy.

“Go take a shower. We have to pick up the girls in half an hour.”

Tonight he’s taking me to see the Bennett Enterprises show. It’s the first time we’ll attend an event together, together. And before that, we’re taking Pippa’s girls, Mia and Elena and Julie, out for ice cream. Blake often takes the little ones out for walks or an ice cream, but he’s never invited me over. I’m not sure he kept me out on purpose, but I was thrilled when he asked. I think it means he’s letting me in a little more. Maybe I’m building this up in my mind to be more than it is, but I can’t help myself.

“I’m so happy you asked me to go to the Bennett show with you. And to take the girls for ice cream.”

“Thank you for saying yes.”

“Who can say no to you?”

He gives an exaggerated wiggle of his eyebrows. Right, the amount of confidence this man possesses first thing in the morning is astonishing. Most people I know, myself included, need a good few hours to build up that trust. Makeup and coffee help, not to mention drop-dead-sexy shoes. Blake rolls out of bed with one hundred percent confidence.

“Shouldn’t have said that. Boosting your ego first thing in the morning is a dangerous move.”

Blake smiles, and without taking his eyes off me, brings one of my hands up to his mouth, kissing my wrist. It’s just a light feather of lips, but a shudder zips down my spine. I catch my breath. When I feel the tip of his tongue on my skin, heat zings my center. I attempt to withdraw my hand but Blake pulls me flush against him, one hand still holding my wrist, the other securely on my waist. We look like we’re about to dance, a beautiful and innocent pose.

Hold that thought!

He slides the hand from my waist farther down, lifting my nightgown and palming my bare ass. Uh-uh, I should have known better. Blake doesn’t do innocent. Goose bumps form on my ass right away. He runs his thumb up one ass cheek, then down the other, then up the crack between them. I involuntarily roll my hips against him, then take a large step back.

“You are a terrible man. I need to get ready.”

While I shower, Blake steps inside the bathroom. I point a menacing finger at him.

“No tempting me or we’ll never make it out of the house.”

“No tempting.” That’s when I notice he’s holding my phone. “Penny’s calling. Third time in a row. Must be urgent.”

My heart in my thr

oat, I turn off the water, step out, and dry my hands on a towel. Blake leaves after handing me the phone. Please, please dear God, don’t let anything have happened to her.

“Hey, sweetie,” she says. “Your boss is downstairs.”

“What?”

“He’s at the interphone. Says he needs to drop off some documents for you. You have this address listed as your work address right?”

“Crap. Yeah, I do. Sorry about that.”

“You want me to send him over to Blake’s? Or just take the documents from him and you’ll pick them up later?”

The last thing I want is for Quentin to come over here, realize I’m living above Blake’s bar. My clearing the air when we were away on set only made his nagging more incessant.

“Take the documents, please. I’ll drop by today to pick them up. Sorry for this. I’ll make it up with cocktails, I promise.”

Said documents must be the contracts from a new sponsor. I was supposed to go over it as soon as he got them, which I assume was yesterday evening.

“Nothing to be sorry for, but I won’t say no to a cocktail.”

“Thank you, Penny.”

Damn, that was a close call.

***

“Wow,” I exclaim that evening when we step inside the location for the Bennett show. I’ve been to a number of galas and events for my job, but this is something else entirely. It is elegant but not over the top, rich but not opulent, and despite the size of the venue and the number of people in attendance, it maintains an air of familiarity. It’s almost cozy. Stretching from the back wall to the center of the room is a long runway. On either side of it are small tables, with two to six seats around them, all facing the runway. I’m no pro, but I suspect that the seating arrangements contribute a lot to the intimate atmosphere. Fashion shows usually have rows upon rows of chairs, but this arrangement is far better.