A Billionaire's Redemption - By Cindy Dees Page 0,33

she usually wore over a tank top. Feeling daring, she skipped both tank top and bra.

She felt a moment’s doubt when she checked herself in the mirror, though. The short T-shirt barely covered the lower swell of her breasts. And she never showed this much stomach. At least hers was tanned and toned after a long summer spent in her parents’ swimming pool. She brushed her hair until it gleamed over her shoulders and threw on just a touch of mascara and clear lip gloss.

Amused at the notion of putting on makeup to cook breakfast, she opened her bedroom door quietly and peeked down the hall. No movement. She tiptoed to the living room and spent far too long staring down at Gabe sprawled on her couch.

My, my, my, he was pretty. His hair was dark and tousled against his strong features. His face was an intriguing mixture of rugged and refined—too chiseled to be called pretty, but too elegant to be called rough. Relaxed in sleep, he looked younger. Almost boyish. And so yummy, she could just eat him up.

Acres of muscular chest sprinkled with dark hair drew her gaze, and his legs were powerful beneath his pajama bottoms. Startled at her lack of fear of his obvious sexuality, her mind wasted no time running wild, conjuring possible ways to wake him up. They mostly involved getting naked and pressing herself against his incredible body.

“Like what you see?”

She jumped about a foot in the air at Gabe’s husky voice. He’d caught her staring at him like he was her very own ooey, gooey sexual treat.

Fiery heat exploded in her cheeks as she mumbled, “Uhh, yes, actually.” Some suave seduction she was off to. She sounded like a bumbling teenager. “Umm, hungry?” she managed to choke out.

“You cooking?” he replied lazily.

Her gaze snapped up to his face at the sexy timbre in his voice. His gaze was sliding down her body with excruciating thoroughness, taking in her skimpy outfit and the assets revealed with laser precision.

That was more like it. “What’s your pleasure?” she murmured.

It was his turn for his gaze to snap up to hers.

“Eggs? Pancakes? Steak?” she suggested, a smile hovering at the corners of her mouth.

“All of the above.”

“If you want to jump into the shower, go ahead,” she suggested. “I’ll go have a look in the kitchen and see what I can come up with.”

“How about I pop back over to my place to shower? I can grab some clothes that way.”

She let her gaze slide down his body and back up. Whoa. He was already wide-awake in more ways than one this morning. “I rather like what you’re wearing now.”

“Vixen,” he muttered, heading for her front door. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Call if anything happens and you need me between now and then.”

Oh, she needed him, all right. The smoky green of his eyes announced that he’d gotten that message loud and clear. But frustratingly, he still seemed determined to do nothing about it. The door closed behind him, and suddenly, her house felt horribly empty. Or maybe it was her who felt his absence so keenly. Yikes. She had it bad for him.

She headed ruefully for the kitchen. She’d always had a thing for Gabe Dawson but had never imagined there was a chance in heck of anything coming of it. Maybe there still wasn’t any chance. Maybe she was an idiot to throw herself at him like this. The poor man was just trying to do a decent thing, to keep her safe, and here she was making a complete fool of herself over him.

But if she’d learned nothing else from her father’s death, it was that life was too short to waste not going for the things she wanted. How did that saying go? In the end, you don’t regret the things you did in life; you regret the things you didn’t do. If she didn’t try for Gabe, she would regret it for the rest of her life. If he rejected her overtures, so be it. But maybe, just maybe, he’d take her up on her offer.

She kept the conversation light over breakfast and listened with interest as Gabe described some of his more exotic travels over the past few years. But as the meal ended, he pushed his plate back and took control of the conversation.

“What are your plans for today, Madame Senator?”

“I thought I’d add more locks to my doors and windows, maybe invest in a trained

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