“Wasn’t enough.”
His thumb traced her lower lip before he released a long-suffering breath and moved away.
The slow, simmering onset of sexual frustration started to burn. It shouldn’t, she cautioned herself. Hunter was showing restraint, and she should follow his lead.
No matter how difficult that proved.
Gabi loosened a strand of hair from the messy bun on top of her head and added a little curl.
She went with a little heavier makeup, stuck with a scarlet red lipstick . . . something she was thankful she could pull off.
The knit dress had a turtleneck collar and half sleeves. It hugged her curves, stopping a couple of inches above her knee. The garter belt and fishnet stockings were a last-minute decision. Probably a foolish one that wouldn’t be seen by anyone but her.
As she fastened the last clasp and ran her hand over the edges, she admitted, if only to herself, that she hoped Hunter would discover the sexy addition to her outfit. As much as she loved frustrating the man, she could live on the sexual waves penetrating their every conversation. Pushing him, making him forget his own name, was a power she’d never had with a man before.
She liked it.
A lot!
With one last glance in the mirror, she turned off the light and made her way out of the suite.
Hunter turned away from the picture windows as if in slow motion. Instead of a tie, he wore a slim-fitting knit shirt that sat high on his neck. Over that, he wore a jet black jacket. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear they had coordinated their outfits. His slacks matched the jacket, his shoes the perfect shade of black to blend. The man really knew how to dress. Casual, confident . . . the billionaire he was.
She took her time walking down the stairs, felt his eyes following her.
Speechless. Gabi liked this side of Hunter much better than the conniving bastard who’d all but forced her signature on their marriage certificate.
“I half expected you to wear red.”
She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and let him approach.
“I considered it.”
He offered a ghost of a smile as he rounded the furniture separating them. He picked up a box sitting on a side table and held it out.
“What is this?”
“Open it,” he told her, that ghost smile still lingering.
His fingers brushed hers as she took the obvious jewelry box from his hands.
The hair on her arms prickled and her fingers trembled as she lifted the lid. Sitting on crushed black velvet was a pair of drop ruby earrings. The pear-shaped stones were the size of her little fingernail, a long length of tiny white diamonds set in what looked like white gold made them sparkle in the limited light.
“Oh, my . . . Hunter . . .”
“A splash of power.”
She met his gaze and felt the edges of her heart crack.
“You shouldn’t have,” she told him. And before he could reply, she said, “But I’m happy you did.”
“Wear them for me?”
She grinned. “I think they’ll look better on me than in the box.”
A mirror sat above the foyer table. She removed the simple gold loop earrings she’d put on and replaced them with the gems.
Their weight was a testimony to the carat of the stones. When she attached the second one she gave her head a tiny shake. They found the light and sparkled.
Hunter slid up from behind her and caught her reflection in the mirror. He brushed one of the earrings with the backs of his fingers.
She stood perfectly still and watched the wonder of emotions pass over his face. “You’re beautiful, Gabriella.”
The tilt of her head wasn’t voluntary.
A hint of his frame brushed hers from behind and sparked.
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.
The request to be set free sat on her lips unspoken. The truth was, she hadn’t felt this alive since . . . since ever. Being set free now would mean an absence of the emotions inside her. Moving from day to day had been her life since she left Florida.
Perhaps it was time to start living again.
She lifted a hand to the side of his face. “Thank you.”
They stood staring at each other through the mirror.
“We should go,” he said without moving. “Before I blow off the Adams account and destroy every self-made pact I made about you.”
“Self-made pact?” she asked with a giggle.
His lips came dangerously close to her neck before pulling away with a growl.
He grasped her hand and pulled her toward the door. “We’re leaving . . . now.”