He didn’t think beyond that. He couldn’t. And the next morning, she was gone.
He’d convinced himself it was for the best. She’d been a fantasy—a mirage his starving soul had conjured. But here she was. Real, warm, and so damn close. Tightening his hands around the steering wheel, Landon stepped on the accelerator. He had to get her to the villa before his daydreams got out of hand.
Dust clouds whirled on the dirt driveway when he screeched to a stop in front of the villa. He bolted out of his seat and nearly ripped the passenger door off its hinges. He was rock hard and aching. The exquisite torture had to end for his sanity’s sake.
Despite the unceremonious way her door was jerked open and the way crisp night air rushed against her, Aubrey didn’t so much as twitch. She was out cold.
Goddamn it.
Landon hesitated for a second and then lifted her out of the car. With a soft sigh, Aubrey snuggled against him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Then she tucked her head against his shoulder, warming the side of his neck with her sweet, moist breath. His aroused body responded predictably to her proximity, and he felt dizzy with the desire flooding through him. He had to get her out of his arms as soon as humanly possible.
When he reached the front door, he wanted to scream in frustration. How am I going to press the security code with Aubrey in my arms? Landon kicked the solid wood door. It made him feel marginally better, so he kicked it a couple more times. With some juggling and a lot of cursing, he finally got the door open.
His breath was coming fast and short from a mixture of physical exertion and good old-fashioned lust. Completely oblivious to his struggles, Aubrey whimpered something in her dream and drew closer to him, bringing her lips to rest on the pounding pulse on his throat.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
Landon stomped to the staircase and climbed up steps two at a time. When he reached her room, he dropped her none too gently on the bed and then got the hell out, locking the door behind him for good measure.
“God, help me.”
He slid down to the floor with his back against Aubrey’s door, too weak to support his weight for another second. Landon drew his shaking hands through his hair and fought to get his breath back. His hands clenched and unclenched helplessly on his thighs, bereft of the soft body they had held a minute ago. His skin still burned where their bodies had touched. He’d hardly slept last night, much too aware only a single wall separated them. Now that he’d held her in his arms again, there would be no sleep for him tonight.
When Lucien had thrown him under the bus, Landon convinced himself it wouldn’t be difficult to be roommates with the most tempting woman in the world. He wasn’t going to waste time finding a new place to stay, especially since he would be in and out of Bosque Verde on business. The villa was the most practical option. Simple and convenient.
He was an arrogant, delusional jerk. It wasn’t convenience that kept him there. It was her. Call me a masochist, he thought, laughing without humor. Sharing the villa with her wasn’t difficult; it was nearly impossible. He couldn’t have her and it was killing him, but he’d be damned if he gave up a single minute with her.
Landon dragged his hand down his face. Self-control was an art he’d mastered over the years. He was a grown man with responsibilities, but he wanted Aubrey with a desperation that made him want to forget all that. But the day he allowed passion to rule his life would be the day he became selfish and weak. Like his old man.
His mood grew dark knowing another sleepless night awaited him. Getting out of her room wasn’t enough. He had to get out of the villa. Making up his mind, Landon changed into his swimming trunks and headed out to the pool. Maybe he could exhaust himself enough to catch a couple hours of shut-eye.
10
Aubrey lifted her arms high above her head and twisted her torso as if she were wringing herself dry. The petal-soft sheets caressed her skin, and she luxuriated in the endless bed. Petal-soft sheets? Endless bed? Her twin-size bed had humble, three-hundred-thread-count sheets.
She sat upright as her sleep-muddled mind grasped that she wasn’t in her bed. She