She falls back on the bed, still smiling.
I breathe. I’ll give you whatever you want, Rachel.
Just don’t leave.
Please.
Chapter 22
“What are you doing this weekend?” I ask Rachel later, after we have breakfast together. I have a work trip planned, but I’m not planning to be separated from her if I can help it.
She grins wickedly, her eyes dancing. “You, if I’m lucky.”
“If I’m lucky,” I correct with a laugh. “I have to work this weekend. I’m going to Newport to look at a property.”
Her face falls. “So you’ll be gone the entire weekend?”
I nod. “I want you to come with me.”
“Oh.” She doesn’t look as excited as I hoped she’d be. “But you’ll be working.”
“Not the whole time,” I say meaningfully.
She raises her brow. “And when you are, what will I be doing with myself?”
I flick a spot of sauce from her lips. “You’ll be waiting, naked, in bed.” It’s a particularly arousing fantasy.
One she doesn’t find so appealing. Her lips purse. “I don’t think so.”
“How can I convince you?” I try to paint a seductive picture. “Just me and you, alone, on the beach, the sound of the sea, the gorgeous sunsets…”
She rolls her eyes, but I can see she’s coming around. “What’s in it for me?”
“Rest and relaxation? And some poor schmuck who can’t look at you without getting a hard-on?”
She bursts into a fit of giggles. “Fine. I’ll come.”
“Good. Now we’d better go before I give in to my baser instincts and do what’s on my mind.”
“What’s that?” she asks, raising her eyebrows as she rises to her feet.
I smile. “Something that’ll result in neither of us leaving for work any time soon.”
She blushes fiercely, and it’s satisfying to know she probably wouldn’t mind at all.
It’s late at night when we arrive at the beach house in Rhode Island after a long drive. Rachel is asleep with her head on my shoulder.
“We’re here,” I murmur in her ear.
She stirs and stretches slowly. “How long have we been on the road?”
“Four hours, and you’ve been asleep about two of them.” She smooths her hair while I watch. “You ready?”
She nods, and I open my door, stepping out of the car as Joe opens the door on her side. She joins me on the driveway, taking in the beach cottage, which is close enough to the water that we can hear the surf break on the shore.
Rachel turns to look at me. “Do you own this too?”
“No, it belongs to a friend. He loaned it to me for the weekend.” It’s Alex’s house for when he wants or needs to escape my Draconian demands at work.