Her little secret, the one thing she found joy in more than anything, was painting. She’d told no one, afraid they would laugh at her and not take her seriously.
Not that anyone took her seriously anyway.
“This is where I’ve been assigned. I have no complaints.” His vivid green eyes lit upon her, lingered for the briefest moment before they skittered away, scanning the room with ruthless efficiency.
“You’re so diplomatic.” They’d hardly spoken the entire trip and if he wanted to ignore her, then fine, she’d ignore him too.
But there was no denying the attraction brewing between them. She wasn’t imagining it either. It was there. Like vibrant little strikes of electricity bouncing back and forth between them, shocking her every time they struck, making her more aware of him.
His potency, his raw, masculine beauty, it called to her. Sometimes she caught him looking at her, his gaze heated, his expression full of potent desire. He’d always turn away, as if afraid he’d been caught.
Aching arousal spiraled through her every time their gazes met. It was palpable, this energy between them. He liked to pretend it didn’t exist, she could tell.
But she had a couple of extra tricks up her sleeve. He couldn’t ignore her the entire time they were together on the island, not even Jerry around to interfere. She needed to take advantage of the situation handed her.
Blake couldn’t believe she was even contemplating this, but she needed to take advantage of her private time with Mason.
“Everything looks good. I still need to do a more thorough search, though,” he declared as he started down the hall. “Which bedroom is yours?”
“Last door on the left,” she called as she walked toward the window that faced the backyard and in the distance, the Pacific Ocean.
It was gorgeous here, a place she’d loved visiting since she was a child. Her grandparents had owned it originally, leaving the property to her mother when they’d both eventually passed on. Her mother never came here though, and had given Blake her full permission to use the property whenever and however she wanted.
So she did.
“I put your luggage in your room,” Mason announced as he strode back into the living room.
“Thank you.” She left the window and walked toward the couch, stopping just behind it. Brushing a hand across the back of the dark brown sued
e, she wasn’t quite ready for him to leave her yet. “I hope you brought jeans.”
“I did.”
“And T-shirts maybe?”
He gave her a non-committal shrug. “A few.”
“Good. You stick out in your fancy suits.”
“I know.”
“I should’ve warned you. I came prepared.” She gestured at herself.
Not saying a word, his warm gaze did a slow perusal, starting at the top of her head and then wandering down, lingering on her breasts, her hips, her legs.
Her body warmed beneath his blatant stare, tingled in all the right places. God, she both hated and loved it when he said nothing, just let his eyes and facial expressions do all the talking.
Mason said so much more when he didn’t speak.
“Want me to walk you over to your cabin?” The property consisted of two wooded acres and two cabins. The main house was larger, at nearly two thousand square feet, while the second cabin was small but quaint and a little less than half the size.
“I’ve got it handled. I’ll be back in a few minutes to finish my search. There are a few things I need to take care of first.” He started to go and she went toward him, following him to the front door.
Desperation clawed within her and her mind raced. How could she keep him here longer? Where did all of her grand plans go? The ones she concocted on the plane ride over? All sorts of delicious scenarios, including her jumping him the second they arrived on the island.
None of them were coming to fruition. She was such a chicken.
“What are you doing for dinner?” she blurted. Gah, she wanted to smack herself in the forehead, stuff a sock in her mouth, anything to stop her saying such stupid stuff. He was going to turn her down, she just knew it.