“Besides, it’s my house you’re a part of. This is a workplace hazard.”
“Seeing your dick shouldn’t be a workplace hazard.”
“And yet it is,” I tell her. “Sorry I didn’t include that in the job description.”
Our eyes lock in a game of mental chess, and I’m starting to think she might enjoy sparring with me, though not as much as I do.
“I disgust you, don’t I?” I ask when she doesn’t speak.
Her brow raises. “If that’s what you’re going for, then no. You don’t.”
“Guess I’ll have to try harder.”
She gives me nothing in her stare and then turns to look back at the window. “I think I’m done in here.”
She starts to walk away, but I call out, “Hey. Come back here.”
Her gait halts, and her shoulders lower in defeat. Slowly she turns around.
“What is it?”
“Come here,” I repeat.
She walks a few steps forward until she’s at the foot of the bed, staring down at me with suspicion. The truth is, I don’t know what I want from her, I just don’t want to be alone. I’d rather be getting on her nerves if nothing else.
“Give me something,” I tell her.
“What?” She crosses her arms with a sigh.
“Tell me something about yourself that I don’t know.”
“You don’t know anything about me, Pascal.”
“Then you should have lots of things to tell me. So tell me something. Anything.”
“Fine. Birds scare the shit out of me.”
I laugh. “Birds? You’re scared of birds?”
She shrugs. “I blame Alfred Hitchcock and the pigeons in New York. Are we done?”
I decide that maybe I need to make this a little more businesslike. “Did you look into the names I gave you?”
Her eyes go round.
I press on. “Marine and Olivier. Did you look into them?”
She doesn’t seem too impressed. She walks around the side of the bed, right up to me. She leans in close, the smell of her flooding my senses as she puts her lips at my ear. Heat generates from her skin to mine, and the hairs on my neck stand on end.
“What happened to your paranoia?” she whispers, and my eyes roll back in my head, my cock stiffening to the point of strain. Her face lingers beside mine for a hot and heady moment before she starts to pull back, and instinctively I reach up and slip my hand behind her neck, holding her in place, our faces just inches from each other.
I stare at her lips, then her perfect nose, then those eyes that are searching mine with curiosity. Not an ounce of fear. She doesn’t even try to pull away.
Her gaze flicks to my mouth, and the blood running through my veins pumps hot and wild, my breath starting to catch in my throat.
I pull her down an inch, that inch that closes up so much space, feeling like I’m about to be overtaken by something very powerful and hungry and unstoppable.
“If you kiss me, I’m quitting,” she says softly.
My eyes flick up to hers, and she’s raising her brow in challenge.
Shit.
I can’t afford to take that risk.
“You’re a little tease, you know that?”
Her expression cools. “I’m sure everyone who doesn’t throw themselves at your feet would be considered a tease to you.” She leans in again to my ear. “If you want to talk about business,” she whispers, and I swear to God I’m going to explode because her voice just became this throaty, sexy thing, “then come find me later. But I know your family and—”
A knock at the door makes us both jump, and she immediately straightens up just as the door to my bedroom opens.
My father strolls in with a newspaper in his hand and stops as soon as he sees us.
“Am I interrupting something?” he asks, his voice flinty as he looks between the two of us.
“Not at all,” I tell him, sitting up and pulling the covers up as well, hoping they hide my erection, because this would look like something completely different otherwise.
I exchange a worried glance with Gabrielle, and she immediately puts her head down and quickly walks toward the door, giving my father a curt, “Sir,” as she passes him but avoids looking at him.
“Gabrielle, stay,” he says and reaches out and grabs her by the arm. He does this with such force and familiarity that it rattles something inside me.
Gabrielle glares at him combatively and pulls back as she stops, but my father doesn’t let go of her arm. Instead, he smiles at her. It’s wolfish. It’s the smile you never want