She glanced again at the tangled sheets, imagined a woman here, running down the hallway just hours ago, late for work in high heels and a wrinkled dress from the day before. They’d probably had sex all night long and he’d have slept longer if the painting wasn’t being delivered. Why did she care? Who was he to her? Just a casual hook-up. Why did the extracurricular activities of a player like Dom even matter to her?
With him standing so close, she could hardly trust herself to say anything coherent. She skittered away from him. His presence invaded her mind and muddled up her thoughts.
“What…where did you have in mind? I mean…for the painting. Where do you want it?” Everything sounded suggestive and her cheeks burned again.
She tried to remain businesslike, but all she could see was that big damn bed right in front of her and the half-dressed man beside her. She tried to ignore the massive carved wood headboard that looked like it belonged in a castle, the lush golden silk duvet cover and the multitude of pillows tangled up in the sheets.
She shuffled her papers again, dropping her pen. As she stooped to pick it up, her eyes froze on the crotch of his jeans. She almost gasped at the outline of his length, level with her eyes, straining against the fabric. Could her face get any hotter?
She chewed on the inside of her lip as she stood up. Ever so slightly, his hips turned toward her and his stance widened. She felt a gush of warmth and a throbbing pulse between her legs.
What was happening to her? She stepped away and fanned her cheeks with the clipboard.
“Hot?”
“A little, yes.” She didn’t dare make eye contact, for her composure was held together only by a thread. If he touched her, raised an eyebrow, skimmed his breath on her skin, she knew it’d be all over. Her body would betray her and she wouldn’t be able to resist him.
“Do you want something? Water?”
“No. I’m fine. Should we get on with it? The guys have been waiting for fifteen minutes or so. Where in here? For the painting.”
She was sure his gaze rested for a moment on the sheets.
“There.” He lifted an arm and pointed at the wall behind the bed.
“Really? Don’t you think it’d be better over there?” She indicated the long wall near the double doors. Just talk. Keep talking. Focus on the words and nothing else. “Or even back in the living area? The lighting there was awfully nice and besides, no one will see it if it’s in here.”
“I didn’t think you liked the lighting out there.”
She pretended to be writing something on the clipboard and kept her eyes glued downward. “It’s better than in here.”
“Hmm. Now that I’m standing here, I think the wall behind the bed is my favorite place. I can look at it often.” She felt the heat of his smile and looked up. It was a slow, knowing grin, as if he were daring her somehow.
“All right.” Often? He’d only be able to see it if he were right here. And how often will he be standing in this very place?
She glanced around the room. In bed, it’d be behind him. Why was he looking at her like that?
He sauntered closer, his hands in his back pockets, taunting her. She stepped back with her clipboard clutched to her chest, a flimsy yet tangible barrier between them. At the foot of the bed he stopped and held his palms up as if framing a picture.
“It’s the perfect location.”
Something about the tone of his voice tickled inside her head and she rubbed a finger against her temple. And then it dawned on her.
He’d be able to see it if he were making love.
Anger ripped at her thin resolve and she could scarcely breathe as she brushed past him and rushed from the room. He was nothing to her. Absolutely nothing.
“I’ll get the guys up here with the equipment and the painting. Back in a moment.” She squeaked the words and heard him laugh as she stormed down the hall.
CHAPTER NINE
ALTHOUGH DOM HAD driven out to the islands many times, he’d never made the ferry trip in the middle of the day, but then he didn’t want to wait any longer than necessary. He knew this conversation wasn’t going to be easy on so many levels.