The Awakening Aidan - By Abby Niles Page 0,35

as shirtless as possible as a constant reminder of what she wanted and could easily have—if she’d just accept that she was stuck here and might as well enjoy herself.

Until she did, he had to keep as detached as possible, and bringing Aidan O’Connell out of retirement had been the only way he could think of to create that distance. He’d left that man behind a year ago when he looked in the mirror and no longer liked who he saw reflected back. He still didn’t like him, but the indifference helped keep the Drall under wraps.

The last few days while he’d planned and waited had been excruciating. At times, he’d felt as if he might crawl out of his skin from the need to be with her. The only thing that calmed him was focusing on his goal to win Jaylin over as he would during a hostile takeover—with no emotion.

Not that he hadn’t had his “claim” moments. He had. Laying eyes on her for the first time in days had almost made him lose complete control, especially when that peaceful smile had graced her lips after she’d boarded the plane. But that peace had evaporated the moment she’d seen him, replaced with anger and disbelief—a painful reminder that he wasn’t allowed to touch her, that she wasn’t his, no matter how much he wanted her to be.

Calling forth the cold mogul had been the only way he’d stopped himself from reaching for her and folding her in his arms. And he’d been shocked at how successfully he was able to suppress the instinct with his former self.

Her scent attacked him from behind, and he stiffened as his beast stirred, a possessive growl rumbling in his chest. A current of need charged his body, making him clench his fists against the urge to charge her, to take what was his. He’d have to be careful of her sneaking up on him or risk allowing the Drall to dictate his actions—just as Jaylin assumed it would. With all her experience and book knowledge, she believed she was one step ahead of him at all times. Could anticipate his every move.

Wrong.

He needed her off-balance. That meant doing exactly the opposite of what she expected of him, even if it killed him. He forced himself not to acknowledge her, not one fleeting glance, as he started to move his clothes from his suitcase to the six-drawer mahogany dresser.

“You can’t stay in here, Aidan.”

Her quiet voice caused the Drall to spike again.

Mine. Take. Now.

He shut the drawer with a little more force than necessary. He breathed again. Calm. Distant. Control. The need lessened. When he faced her, Aidan O’Connell was firmly in place. “I paid for it. I’ll sleep wherever I want.”

Just to make his point, he stretched out on the bed and laced his fingers behind his head, satisfied as her gaze belied her steely expression and traveled over his chest before jerking to his face. Giving a relaxed sigh, he settled back against the pillow and closed his eyes. While he hoped he came across as indifferent, his true reason for blocking her out was fear that his eyes would betray him just as hers had. He didn’t need for her to see how much he wanted her to climb up on this bed and lie beside him—to just let him hold her.

“What has gotten into you?” she asked.

Survival mode, that’s what. “I’m enjoying my vacation. That doesn’t include sleeping on the couch or in any of the other mediocre rooms. I paid top dollar for this island, and I’ll enjoy every amenity it has to offer, which means you’re not going to monopolize the master suite for the duration of our stay.”

“Fine, you can have it. Now open up one of the mediocre rooms you so ogreishly had closed, so I can use it.”

“To hide, you mean?” He popped an eye open and studied her, not surprised to see she had her arms crossed tightly beneath her breasts in typical defensive Jaylin fashion. “That’s not happening.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch then.”

He shrugged, though it pained him she’d rather sleep on a cramped sofa than on this huge comfortable bed beside him. “Suit yourself.”

Her frustrated “Oh!” caused a smile to tug on his lips. He quickly pressed them together. He definitely had her where he wanted her—flustered, completely unprepared for what he’d say or do next.

“How long am I going to have to endure your ass-hattery?”

Another smile tried to emerge, but