Chest hurting from the shallowness of her breaths and her glasses fogging up, she swallowed. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”
He groaned and fed her the rest of the fruit. “You really don’t mind going in to work?”
“No—if you take this bracelet off.”
FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, she was at her desk printing out the documents he needed, and the bracelet was still on her wrist. Gabriel Bishop, as she’d already learned, was one stubborn male. And he’d decided the ridiculously expensive, exquisitely beautiful, one-of-a-kind bracelet was hers. Aggravated as she was, she couldn’t help the melting in her bones.
He’d had it for months, she thought again, her eyes lingering on the pretty, delicate lines of it. She’d sighed over it in the shop, having no intention of recommending it to Gabriel so he could give it to his “girlfriend.” When he’d caught her sneaking that photo of it and bought it, she’d been so frustrated. And jealous. She could admit that now. She’d been jealous he was giving the bracelet she loved to another woman.
Except the whole time, it had been for her.
Months.
Touching the tiny flowers with possessive fingers, she jerked them back when she heard Gabriel coming out of his office. “Papers ready, Charlotte?” he asked a little absently, his attention on the report in his hand.
“Yes,” she said, her pulse kicking at the sight of him, so big and smart and delicious. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” He took them, disappeared, saying, “Can you dig up the previous proposal for me? I want to double-check something.”
“I’ll have it to you in a minute.” She turned to her computer, discovered that for some reason the file hadn’t been input. “I’m going to have to go down to the records room,” she said, poking her head into his office.
Gabriel looked up, frowned. “I’ll come with you.”
Stomach dropping, she gripped the edge of the doorjamb. “It’s only one floor down. I’ll be fine.”
He was already walking toward her. “Charlotte, I know you can do it. I’m also feeling very protective today.” An edge in his voice. “So just let me come with you.”
Shaken by the blunt words, she spread her hands on his chest. She’d been so focused on how he was treating her that she hadn’t stopped to consider how she should treat him. He was a protective, possessive kind of a man, and she’d laid a lot on him today. “Maybe I should give you a kiss,” she said, finding the courage because he needed her to find it. “Come here.”
He bent his head. Cupping his cheek, she pressed her lips to his, sipped gently. She was viscerally aware of the strength and the power of him, but she was also stunned to realize he’d given her control. Though his hands had come to rest on her hips, he didn’t pull, didn’t force, just stood there and allowed her to taste him.
His breath, however, turned uneven as the seconds passed. Charlotte thought about stopping but couldn’t find any reason to do so. He smelled so good, tasted so good, his warmth surrounding her and making her feel safe and soft inside. As if her blood was molten honey.
Gabriel moved his head, fitting their lips together more firmly. Charlotte moved with him, her hand sliding from his cheek to the side of his neck. The tendons flexed under her touch, the thickness of his neck making her want to kiss every warm inch. Nipples so tight they almost hurt, she went to press up to him, rub herself against the heated strength of his body in an effort to ease the ache.
And the fear, it licked at her.
Breaking the kiss on a choking wave of frustration before the panic attack could hit, she went down flat on her feet.
Gabriel, his lips wet and his pupils dilated, said, “I like the way you make me feel better.”
The cold metal hand around her chest stopped squeezing. Because Gabriel seemed not to mind that he had to go slow. If he wasn’t giving up, she definitely wouldn’t.
IT TOOK THEM THREE hours to get the work completed. Gabriel received a call partway through that led to a short, clipped conversation, but when she asked if everything was all right, he’d said, “Nothing to worry about.”
From the tension in his jaw and shoulders, she knew that wasn’t true. She intended to bring it up again when they left the office, but he was back in a good mood, so she let it slide. Still, part of her continued to worry at the question, especially given the number of calls he’d received recently from an older-sounding man with a smoker’s voice. Those calls inevitably left him with shadows in his eyes.
“Gabriel?” she said as they drove out of the garage.
“Hmm?” A deep smile. “Mission Bay for a late lunch?”
Utterly undone by that smile and uncertain about their fledgling relationship, she just nodded.
Driving to the bustling group of restaurants and cafés by the sea, the water glittering under the sun and kayakers out in force in their colored craft, they decided to eat at a great Mexican café Charlotte had discovered with Molly.
Gabriel ordered what Charlotte recommended, smiling inwardly every time she touched the bracelet. She didn’t seem to realize how she was petting it, and he wasn’t going to point it out when her delight gave him such pleasure.
He’d been dreaming of putting that bracelet on her wrist since the day he’d bought it. She’d been so adorably bad-tempered that day, pointing him in the direction of any piece of jewelry she thought would satisfy him. But he’d been determined—and at that time, he hadn’t realized the depth of the scars she bore, had expected to be able to give her the bracelet in the next few weeks.