Wish - Page 49

Chapter Twenty-Two

Amazingly, Marus doesn’t have condoms here in his warehouse, but he has plenty of hot water and linens, including the hand towels he brought for me. He tried not to make it awkward, but it was. He sort of looked at me apologetically, which was insanely cute. And sexy. It’s nice when a man isn’t afraid to be a man in bed, but knows how to act like a real human being afterwards.

Ironically, though, instead of feeling relaxed, I’m wound up tighter than ever. I want more of him, and it scares the hell out of me. Because while he did act like a gentleman after our little sex appetizer, his mood changed. It’s hard to put my finger on, but he seems almost somber.

I come out of the bathroom, cleaned up, makeup refreshed, and my long dark hair in a high ponytail. The dress I chose is a tight red thing with a low-cut back and spaghetti straps. The outfit shows off just enough cleavage in the front to be sexy, but more than it should in the back, making it a deliberate reminder of what I look like naked. I want him thinking of me and our new “unfinished business” all night long, just like I’ll be thinking of him. The shoes, which there were many to choose from, are strappy black things with delicate high heels.

“Marus?” I step out in the middle of the warehouse and swivel my head. With all these crates and aisles, it would take me forever to find him.

I wonder if he’s waiting outside in the car. I shove my other clothes in my oversized leather purse and walk toward the exit, the clacking of my heels echoing inside the cavernous building. “Marus?”

No reply.

I’m almost to the exit when I notice one of the open bay doors. I peek outside and spot Marus standing next to a very expensive-looking red sports car.

Marus spots me, and his eyes lock on mine for a brief moment before he realizes what I’m wearing. Again, I don’t know how he does it, but the way his eyes slowly take in every inch of my body makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. And trust me when I say I’ve never felt like that before. Most people would say I’m plain or even “a little pretty” when I do my hair and makeup. But gorgeous? Never. Yet with one look, this man has the power to make me feel like a goddess.

I have to wonder if he feels the same when I look at him—like he’s the most stunning man on the planet. Because he is. And standing here now, staring at his tall, well-built frame, I feel so much more than lust. It’s a tingle in my stomach. It’s an ache in my heart.

“You look incredible,” he says, finally breaking our silent but mutual appreciation.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He’s back in his expensive suit. “Although, I think I liked your other suit better.” I flash a devious little smile so he knows I mean his birthday suit.

“Yes, well,” he straightens his tie, “where we’re going, they do require clothing, but luckily for me, not too much.” His eyes trail down to my toes and up again to my face. “That dress is going to give me a heart attack.” He sighs appreciatively. “Shall we?”

I walk over to him and stop, turning my body so we’re toe to toe. “Thank you.” I crane my neck to look up at his beautiful face and chiseled features.

“For what?”

“For bringing me here.”

“Like I said, it’s nothing but a warehouse full of stuff.”

I’m not talking about that. He let me into his life. “Your work is important to you. Just like mine is to me. Thank you for sharing it.”

His eyes drain of their warmth. His mouth and lips do the same. “Anytime, Ginnie.” He jerks his head, indicating it’s time to go. “We don’t want to be late.”

Something just happened. I don’t know what, but his mood shifted. It reminds me of when we first met. I don’t like it.

“Sure. Okay.” I carefully get into the red sports car. I have no idea what brand it is. The fiery dragon logo on the steering wheel is something I’ve never seen before.

Marus closes my door and goes to lock up the bay door. When he returns, he slides behind the wheel, and his mood is even darker.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“Always.”

The evening drive into Manhattan for dinner was again another conference call. Marus talked to his team, who apparently work around the clock and have no lives because it’s getting late—almost eight o’clock—and I didn’t get the impression their workday is anywhere close to over.

He must pay them extremely well.

“Good. Keep me posted,” he says. “And cross Rubin off the list. We’re on our way to deliver the papers now.” He ends the call.

Tags: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Romance
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