His Princess - Stacy Gail Page 0,22
His path wound back to her, and she loved how he didn’t hesitate in pulling her to him. “Too busy to miss me?”
“Were you trying to make me miss you?” Because it worked.
He shook his head. “I don’t play shitty little mind games like that. If I’m out of touch it’s because I’m buried in a crazy shit storm of work and barely have time to breathe.”
Ah. “So that’s what happened to you this week?”
“Pretty much, but I was also pushing hard to make sure I wouldn’t have any distractions this weekend. As of now, the only thing I want to do is focus on you.”
“I like the sound of that.” Since his words soothed the insecure tail-chasing she’d done over the past four days, she smiled and shook her head. “And for what it’s worth, I did miss you, just as much as I wondered if I’d simply become another link in your princess chain.”
Those dimples that she found so irresistible deepened. “I thought you said you weren’t a princess.”
Dang it. “I’m anything but a princess, thank you very much. I’m a hard-working career woman, with every intention of reaching the top of my career. And don’t forget, I’d rather be a queen than a princess.”
“Who knew ambition could be so damn sexy?” Bending to kiss her once more, he eventually broke away just as she was falling headfirst into a blissed-out fog. “You pack a bag?”
“I did.” She heard how breathless she sounded and could only shake her head at how utterly susceptible she was when it came to this man. “I wasn’t sure if it should be an overnight kind of deal or if my entire weekend was booked, so I actually packed two bags to cover all the bases. I’m thorough like that.”
“Got to admire a woman who likes to be prepared for all occasions.” A chuckle escaped him, and he gave her a squeeze before letting her go. “Go grab the weekend bag and let’s bounce. I want to get this weekend started.”
“Yay,” she said, while her pulse rocketed into the stratosphere.
The weekend.
Two days.
And two nights.
Starting tonight.
It was a wonder he didn’t hear her heart beating from all the way across the room.
“You know, eventually you’re going to have to let me in on where we’re going,” Joelle said as she settled into the passenger seat of his sleek silver Jaguar F-TYPE that reminded her strongly of her old Beemer two-seater sports car. “I promise not to tell any of your clients where you’re hiding.”
“That’s big of you.” Heading toward the freeway, he gestured to the digital radio. “Feel free to put on your favorite kind of music.”
“Don’t you have a favorite station?”
“I want to see what you pick.”
“Aha, a test. Moreover, a test designed to distract me from the fact that you didn’t answer.” With a smile, she leaned on the console between their seat and started punching buttons. “Fun. I’ll take the bait.”
“You are, you know. Fun.” He shot her a quick glance before getting into an exit lane. “I didn’t expect that from you.”
“What did you expect?”
“Cultured tastes, lofty standards, maybe a little spoiled and a lot demanding. High maintenance from start to finish.”
“Wow.” It was her turn to give him a sidelong glance while she struggled not to be offended. “With a list like that, it’s a wonder you even spoke to me.”
“So you’re not high maintenance?”
“I’m not demanding, at least not of anyone except myself. And the only lofty standards I have is making sure my created content is better than anyone else’s on the internet. In fact, I’m a perfectionist on that score. But that doesn’t carry over into my personal life, or how I view other people. I’m a live-and-let-live kind of person, generally speaking. What about you?”
“I’m usually too busy to give a shit what people are doing or how they live their lives, and you and I have the same perfectionist quirk, which isn’t a bad thing. I still hold that you’re high maintenance, though, but that’s also not a bad thing. I’m high maintenance, too.”
“I’ll be the judge of whether or not that’s a bad thing,” she muttered, then zeroed in on a genre of music. “What makes you say you’re high maintenance?”
“I like getting what I want, and I don’t stop until I get it.”
“That’s not high maintenance. That’s just knowing your own mind.”
“So that doesn’t freak you out?”
Surprised, she glanced up from the list of stations. “Why would it?”
“Because I want you.”
“Ah.” She