No Strings__ - By Janelle Denison Page 0,34
table at the far end of the room near a window overlooking one of the tropical gardens outside, eating her breakfast while writing something in a notebook—probably notes for their campaign. That’s exactly how he’d spent the past few hours, working on his own presentation and how to best use Hattie-the-matchmaker as his focal point for the campaign.
His stomach grumbled ravenously, demanding to be fed, and he headed straight for the omelet bar and put in his order, then piled his plate high with bacon, fruit and other side dishes. He filled a large glass with orange juice and added a cup of coffee to his tray, then carried his hearty meal toward Chloe’s table.
He honestly wasn’t sure what to expect from her this morning, not after the way she’d snuck out on him last night while he’d been dozing. The soft click of the door shutting had woken him up, and he’d instinctively known that she was gone. He’d gotten as far as tossing off the sheets and grabbing his pants to put them on so he could go after her, before realizing he’d be chasing after a woman who clearly didn’t want to be pursued.
The thought was a much needed reality check that this thing between them was nothing more than a casual island fling. He had no claim to her other than just sex. But he’d be lying if he said that being with Chloe was nothing more than an itch he’d been dying to scratch for the past two years.
Oh, they’d definitely indulged in a whole lot of pleasure, had finally surrendered wholeheartedly to the lust that had burned bright and hot between them for much too long. But afterward, as he’d pulled her into his arms, he’d been filled with a contentment that wasn’t all related to his physical satisfaction. It had more to do with how good and right she felt in his arms—more than any woman he’d been with since his divorce.
That realization was like a sucker punch to his stomach and definitely got his attention—because his mind had no business contemplating those thoughts with her. Ever. No matter what the island matchmaker, or the stamen of a flower, revealed.
So, while Aiden was disappointed with Chloe’s stealthlike exit last night, he understood why she’d felt the need to leave. She was trying to keep some semblance of normalcy between them, to keep their affair separate from the fact that they still worked together, at an agency that frowned heavily on inter-office romances. It didn’t matter that he intended to leave the company within the next few months, especially if he was the recipient of the five-figure bonus that would be awarded to the St. Raphael campaign winner. He and Chloe were opposites in all the important ways that mattered, which meant they had no future together beyond this week.
As he neared her table, she glanced up while taking a drink of her coffee, her eyes widening ever so slightly over the rim of her cup as she watched him approach. Wearing her hair in one of her sleek ponytails, she looked beautiful and fresh-faced, and he’d like to believe that the three orgasms he’d given her last night had something to do with the pink glow on her cheeks.
Yeah, he was totally going to take credit for that.
She was wearing a pair of white shorts, a pink lace tank top and sparkly flip-flops, trying to blend in with every other woman in the dining room. But to him, she stood out like an exotic fruit he wanted to taste—again and again.
Not wanting to risk a rejection until he got a feel for her mood, he didn’t bother asking if she wanted company, just set his tray down on the table and took a seat across from her. She said nothing, but the wary look in her gaze told him that she fully expected an interrogation about giving him the slip after last night’s sexcapades. Lucky for her, he wasn’t going to complain about it. Hell, he wasn’t even going to mention the issue because it was a discussion they didn’t need to have.
His plan was to keep things between them light, casual and fun. No morning-after angst necessary.
Scooping up a forkful of his omelet, he nodded toward her notebook. “Already hard at work?”
She shrugged and relaxed somewhat, her obvious relief softening her features. “I had some ideas about a catchy slogan running through my head that I wanted to get on paper before