Payback Affairs: Shattered by the CEO. Emilie Rose

the light.

      That wasn’t relief filling his lungs. The sea air simply made it easier to breathe. He shoved the sliding glass door open the rest of the way. “Seasick?”

      She lifted her face. Moonlight washed her cheeks. She’d removed her makeup, but not her dress. From his vantage point above her, the strapless bodice revealed a tempting shadow of cleavage, and then the ocean breeze caught her zigzag hem, drawing his gaze from her sexy sandals to an arousing length of sleek thighs. “No.”

      “Then why aren’t you in bed?”

      “I forgot my nightgown.”

      Her reply hit him like a kick in the crotch, propelling the air from his lungs. Did she think he was stupid enough to fall for that? “How convenient.”

      She winced at his sarcasm. “Our luggage wasn’t delivered until almost nine. By the time I unpacked and realized I’d left my nightie in the dryer, the gift shop had closed. Can I borrow a T-shirt tonight? Unless you don’t mind if I sleep naked.”

      The lower half of his anatomy responded with resounding approval. Luckily, his brain kicked in. Tara had always been good at making her lies sound believable. Too bad he hadn’t known that then. But he made a mental note that the luggage had been delivered late. “I’ll get a shirt.”

      She rose. “Thank you.”

      He backed inside and headed for his luggage. Two flicks later it opened. He withdrew a white T-shirt and handed it over.

      “Thanks. I’ll only be a minute.” Tara crossed the shadowy cabin quickly and disappeared into the bathroom. The door closed.

      Something about watching her pad across a bedroom hit him like a double shot of espresso. Sleep would be a long time coming.

      Rand eyed the bed and debated stripping to his boxers and getting under the covers before she returned. Stripping … the way Tara was currently on the other side of that wall. He gritted his teeth against another below-the-belt pulse of arousal.

      Moments later the door opened. Tara returned, leaving the lavatory light on. Despite the extra-tall size, his shirt only covered her to the tops of her thighs, leaving a mouthwatering amount of leg bare. Even in the moonlight he could make out the shape and jiggle of her breasts beneath the loose white fabric as she hung her dress in the closet. When she turned toward the bed he saw the raised texture of her erect nipples and silently swore.

      Was she wearing anything at all under there? Or would he be able to slide his hand beneath the cotton and cup her bare bottom?

       You’re not cupping anything.

      “Which side?” she asked.

      It took a few seconds for his brain to engage and figure out she meant which side of the bed. “I don’t care.”

      She picked up the elephant and smiled. “Isn’t he adorable?”

      “The more creative the animals, the better you’ll tip your steward at the end of the voyage.”

      She stuck her tongue out. “Spoilsport.”

      The childish gesture reminded him how much fun he’d had with her before she’d betrayed him. Few Florida residents hadn’t visited the proliferation of theme parks and tourist traps dotting the state like mushrooms. But oddly enough neither she nor he had. They’d spent a lot of their time visiting amusement parks and acting like kids during the day and igniting the sheets like very naughty adults at night. Screaming on roller-coaster rides or in passion made it easy to avoid personal topics, and playing tourist with Tara had been like having the childhood he and his siblings hadn’t had.

      She’d been one of the few people he’d been able to relax with.

      More fool him.

      She carefully set the towel creature on the shelf before lifting the covers on the far side of the bed and climbing between the sheets. “Bathroom’s all yours.”

      Her comment jarred him into action. He retrieved his shaving kit and the essentials and retreated to the head. After brushing his teeth he donned clean boxers and sat on the closed toilet lid. How long would it take her to fall asleep? He gave her ten additional minutes before snapping off the light and easing open the door.

      She must have gotten up and closed the curtains. He wanted them open, but didn’t want to wake her with the noise. He couldn’t see anything in the pitch-black room, but he could hear Tara’s breathing coming slow, even and deep as he approached the bed. He slid between the sheets and lay stiffly, flat on his back. He folded his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling he could barely make out, dreading the sleepless night ahead. Dreaded lying beside Tara. Wanting her. His sex thickened and ached—a problem any sane man would have handled in the shower.

       No, a sane man would take the sex she offered without second thoughts.

      But Rand knew how skillfully she’d cast her net last time, how easily she’d suckered him into wanting more than a casual fling despite his vow to never marry, have children or let a woman depend on him.

      Tara’s breathing altered. She rolled over and snuggled up to him. One silky smooth leg bent and rested on his thigh. Her hand splayed over his sternum. He ground his teeth until his jaw hurt. And then her hand shifted. Downward. Her burning touch skimmed over his bare skin and came to rest just above his navel. His heart slammed against his ribs. Another half inch and she’d encounter the evidence of his horniness, which even now stretched toward her hand.

      Was she asleep or playing him? He’d bet his Porsche 911 Carrera S Cabriolet it was the latter.

       Why are you denying yourself? She used you last time. It’s time for reimbursement. With interest.

      Good point.

      He wanted her and he’d take what she offered. Forewarned was forearmed, or so the cliché claimed. As for her falling in love with him … Impossible. For that to happen she’d have to be a different kind of woman. One who didn’t profess her love for one man and then screw his father days later.

      Rand covered her hand with his and guided it lower until her palm rested over his engorged flesh. The thin knit of his boxers offered no protection from the scalding heat of her touch and his erection jerked in response. A reflex. Nothing more.

      Tara’s breath hitched. Her fingers twitched, and then tension invaded her lax muscles. Either she’d been asleep and he’d woken her or she was damned good at faking it.

      And with Tara Anthony he couldn’t trust his judgment to know the difference.

      Waking with a handful of Rand was nothing short of a dream or a fantasy.

      Tara tried to focus her rousing brain and figure out what was going on. Her fingers curled around thick, cotton-covered steel. Oh, yes. Definitely Rand. She inhaled a shaky breath and his familiar scent confirmed the identification. His palm covered the back of her hand, anchoring it in place.

      She tipped back her head, but she couldn’t see his features in the inky room. “What—?”

      “It’s just sex,” he rasped in a low, husky voice that made her insides sizzle with sexual excitement.

      “Okay.” For now. She tested his length and his breath hissed.

      He rolled her onto her back. One hair-roughened leg separated hers and pinned her in place. His big, hot hand released hers to stroke from her thigh to beneath her borrowed T-shirt. His palm coasted over her panties, her waist and covered her breast. Sure. Fast. Impatient. He found her nipple like a heat-seeking missile and tweaked it until she squirmed with need.

      “I won’t marry you.”

      She bit her lip. She hadn’t expected winning him back to be easy. But this was a gamble she had to take. A gamble with risks. “I didn’t ask you to.”

      His mouth took hers, his tongue plunged, dueled, stroked. He devoured her as if his