Voyeur - Lacey Alexander [94]
He gave his head a matter-of-fact tilt. “You said you’d throw them out into the snow. I didn’t want to waste a perfectly good pair of shoes.”
She cast a smirking grin in reply just as his cell phone buzzed—across the room on the desk next to his laptop, where she guessed he’d left it yesterday when he’d been catching up on work. She watched as he flipped back the covers and padded across the room to answer, so beautifully naked that her mouth began to water.
“Braden Stone,” he said upon flipping the phone open.
She could tell it was a business call, not only from the discussion but from the very tone he took—commanding and strong and authoritative—and she understood exactly how he succeeded in toppling corporations. “That’s not acceptable,” he was saying, “and you’re going to make it right. Today. Within the hour, in fact.”
She bit her lip, realizing that watching him give someone hell on the phone while he was peering out the window stark naked was perhaps, oddly, one of the sexiest things she’d ever beheld. She was also forced to realize that what she’d shared with him last night had been no less than profound.
She’d been trying to convince herself all along that this was just sex, just fun, just physical pleasure. But the worlds he’d opened to her now, the generosity he’d shown her, the way he’d encouraged her and excited her and made her feel safe no matter what . . . She sighed, knowing beyond a doubt that she was changed forever because of him. A sobering realization.
“Get back to me,” he said, “and meanwhile, I’ll call Phillips and First National.” He flipped the phone shut and turned to face her, his voice returning to “normal Braden.” “I can’t believe this, but it looks like I’m the one who has to work today. Some complications with a pending merger, and I need to make some calls.”
Laura drew in her breath. “It’s just as well. I need to write, too.”
She didn’t mention that after what they’d shared last night, he probably could have finally talked her into spending the day with him, in bed or out.
She didn’t mention it because this was a sign—a sign that she simply couldn’t let herself get any more attached to him than she already was.
She knew leaving would be difficult now, no two ways about it, but she couldn’t wallow in that—she had to be a big girl. And working—as usual—would be a good distraction from all the emotions swirling inside her.
“I have time for a quick breakfast, though, if you do,” he offered.
She couldn’t help smiling. Distraction could start in a little while. For now, she was going to relish the opportunity to cling to him for just a little longer after last night’s intimacies. She sat up and tossed the covers aside. “I think I could squeeze it in. Want to make it together?”
He flashed a devilish grin. “Baby, I always like making it with you.”
Over an easy breakfast of scrambled eggs and English muffins, Laura felt his gaze.
“You look deep in thought.”
She switched her glance from the snowscape out the window to the man across from her, caught. “Guess I’m still just stunned by what I did last night.”
He lowered his chin, his expression chiding her.
“Don’t worry—still no regrets. I’m just thinking how very un-me it was. For you, I guess it’s no big deal, but for me, it’s . . . big.”
She couldn’t help being surprised when Braden set down his fork and stood up, walking around behind her chair to bend down and slide his arms around her. He spoke softly in her ear. “What you did—what we did—is okay, honey. It didn’t hurt anybody, it felt good, and hell, it might have even helped somebody.”
Laura looked up at him, surprised.
“Last night might have gotten Tommy out of his funk over Marianne. He hadn’t had sex with anyone since then.”
“Oh,” she heard herself murmur.
Wow, was it possible their ménage à trois had really held some humanitarian value? She was letting sarcasm taint her musings, but it was nice to think maybe it had helped Tommy overcome his heartbreak a little.
A few minutes later, they cleared the dishes together,