“Working.”
“Always working,” she said, shaking her head
“I could say the same for you,” he said, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead, the gift box tucked by the side of his leg. He swallowed, wishing he didn’t have to say the next thing. “Hey, I hate to do this, but Rizzo at Comedy Nation is playing hardball, and I have to get things ironed out.”
“He’s such an ass,” she said, her voice coated in irritation. “I wish you could punch that guy.”
He laughed, loving her put-up-your-dukes nature. “Trust me, I would like to land one on him.”
“So you need to go to L.A. instead of Vegas?”
He nodded, the corner of his lips curving into a frown. “For a couple of hours. I don’t think I’m going to be able to join you at the Farrell meeting. But if you absolutely want me there, I’ll find another time to see Rizzo.”
“No. I know Grant needs this deal,” she said insistently, referring to Clay’s client. The fact that she knew the names of his clients and that she cared about his business had always touched him. What he did for a living mattered deeply to him; he liked that the details mattered to her too. “It’s absolutely fine. I am a big girl and can handle my meeting.”
“I know you can. I just wanted to make sure.”
“And then after my meeting, I plan to have a date with a lounge chair and a Pina Colada poolside at the Allegro until you return. I can just kick back and work on my non-tan,” she said, gesturing to her creamy, fair skin that she always covered in sunscreen. Then she placed her hands together in a prayer, as if making an oath. “But in the meantime, I promise not to agree to anything or to sign a thing without my lawyer looking at it,” she said, giving him a sexy little wink.
An appreciative moan escaped his throat. “Mmm. I have taught you well the perks of being with a contract man.”
“Want to play lawyer and naughty client?” she said suggestively, running her hand along his thigh. “Oh, Mr. Lawyer, I’m thinking of signing on the dotted line when you’re not around.”
“I’ll put you over my lap and spank you.”
“That’ll only make me want to go wild with blue ink,” she said, playing the part well. She quickly changed her tune as she placed a palm on his chest and raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re not sneaking off to Los Angeles to get me a ring?”
He laughed once more. She’d been trying to get it out of him since the night he told her he’d wanted to take her to Vegas for the weekend. Even with her business meeting, she was hunting for clues of a proposal. Only his brother knew he planned to ask her to marry him this weekend. “I’m not going to Los Angeles to get a ring, but even if I were I would never tell you,” he said.
“You do realize that gives absolutely nothing away?”
He nodded, tapping her forehead lightly, then running his finger down to her nose. “I know,” he said, then nibbled on the end of her nose.
“Well, enough about rings. What’s in that box there you’re hiding by your leg?”
“You saw it?”
“My gift-spotting skills know no bounds.”
He handed her the turquoise-wrapped box with a white bow on it. She eyed the bow. “In case you want to tie me up on the plane, looks like we already have something to use.”
His dick twitched against the denim of his jeans. She was always on the same wavelength as he was. “I may need to tie up your hands as a reminder to bring your poker face to the meeting today.”
She gave him a sharp-eyed stare. “Do not ever doubt my poker face. It is masterful,” she said, as she tugged one end of the ribbon, letting the white satiny bow fall across the shiny wrapping paper. Ripping off the paper, she popped open the top of the box, and there it was. That glow in her eyes. The absolute joy in receiving gifts. She was a delight to give presents to because she never faked her appreciation. Reaching inside the box, she wrapped her fingers around the necklace then gently lifted the long strand of pearls. “Oh my God, they’re stunning. They’re so f**king gorgeous.”
She draped the pearls over her hand, the long strands like waterfalls of smooth, rounded beads. She gazed at them like they were precious, a fitting response, since they were. “They’re real,” she said, with wonder in her voice as she looked up at him.
He nodded. “I would never give you something fake.”
“I’ve never had pearls before. I’ve never thought of myself as a pearl person.”
“Then let me show you how I want you to wear them, so you can see how absolutely f**king sexy a pearl person can be,” he said, standing up and making his way to his suitcase. He opened one of the zipper compartments where he’d tucked a dress for her, and brought it over. “Another gift. Put this on.”
“Now?”
He nodded. “Yes. Model it for me.”
“As you wish,” she said, standing up and glancing once at the cockpit. “What about the pilot?”
“I told him we’d be making full use of the plane and he said he’d have his eyes on the sky the whole time.”
“Then keep your eyes on me,” she said, looping the strand around her neck, then stripping off her skirt, letting it pool at her feet, her gaze locked on him the whole time. He watched her, growing harder with each layer she removed—now her shirt, then her lacy bra. He reclined the spacious leather seat, taking in the show, savoring every second of her undressing. She stood before him in only her underwear, a small bit of sheer white covering her pu**y, the evidence of her arousal already starting to show as he caught a quick glimpse between her legs.