Callum’s gaze drifted upward from her mouth to her closed eyes and the long lashes covering them. His gaze then moved to her cheekbones and he was tempted to take the back of his hand and caress them, or better yet, trace their beautiful curves with the tip of his tongue, branding her as his. And she was his, whether she knew it or not, whether she accepted it or not. She belonged to him.
He then noticed how even her breathing was, and how every breath drew his attention to the swell of her breasts that were alluringly hidden inside a light blue blouse. He’d always found her sexy, too sexy, and it had been hard not to want her, so he hadn’t even bothered fighting the temptation. He had lusted after her from afar, which was something he couldn’t help, since he hadn’t touched another woman in almost three years. Once her place in his life had become crystal clear, his body had gone into a disciplined mode, knowing she would be the one and only woman he would make love to for the rest of his life. Now, the thought of that made his body go hard. He breathed in her scent, he closed the book he had been reading and adjusted his pillow. He closed his eyes and allowed his fantasies of her to do what they always did, take over his mind and do in his dreams what he couldn’t yet do in reality.
Gemma slowly opened her eyes at the same moment she shifted in her seat. She glanced over at Callum and saw that he had fallen asleep. His head was tilted close to hers.
She would have to admit that at first his close proximity had bothered her because she assumed they would have to make a lot of unnecessary conversation during the flight. She wasn’t very good at small talk or flirting. She’d dated before, but rarely, because most men had a tendency to bore her. She’d discovered that most liked talking about themselves, tooting their own horn and figured they were God’s gift to women.
She pushed all thoughts of other men aside and decided to concentrate on this one. He was sitting so close that she could inhale his masculine scent. She had enough brothers and male cousins to know that just as no two women carried the same scent, the same held true for men. Each person’s fragrance was unique and the one floating through her nostrils now was making funny feelings flutter around in her stomach.
Gemma found it odd that nothing like this had ever happened to her before, but then she couldn’t recall Callum ever being this close to her. Usually they were surrounded by other family members. Granted, they weren’t exactly alone now, but, still, there was a sense of intimacy with him sitting beside her. She could just make out the soft sounds of his even breathing.
She had been ready to go when he had arrived at her place. When she opened the door and he had walked in, her breath had gotten caught in her throat. She’d seen him in jeans more times than not, but there was something about the pair he was wearing now that had caused her to do a double take. When he’d leaned down to pick up her luggage, his masculine thighs flexed beneath starched denim. Then there were those muscled arms beneath the Western shirt. Her gaze had lingered longer than it should have on his body. She had followed him out the door while getting an eyeful of his make-you-want-to-drool tush.
She studied him now, fascinated by just what a good-looking man he was and how he’d managed to keep women at bay for so long. A part of her knew it hadn’t just been the story Zane had fabricated about a woman waiting for him back in Australia. That tale might have kept some women like Jackie away, but it would not have done anything to hold back the bolder ones. It was primarily the way he’d carried himself. Just like Ramsey. In his pre-Chloe days, most women would have thought twice before approaching her brother. He radiated that kind of “I’m not in the mood” aura whenever it suited him.