He grabs my wrist in a move so fast it takes my breath away. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” I whisper, although I’ve no idea why I do, since he’s obviously awake now.
The sheet rides low on his hips, and it’s impossible to drag my hungry gaze away from his sculpted body. He’s become an addiction, and that can’t be a good thing.
“You working today?” His voice is deep and sexy and doesn’t help at all to convince me that I really need to leave right now.
I clear my throat and don’t miss the satisfied gleam in his eyes. He knows exactly how he affects me. Then again, I’m stark naked and my nipples are so erect they ache with need.
“No, I’m not.” For a second I debate going into any more detail, then decide what the heck. After Russell’s mini-rant on the phone yesterday, I’m not looking forward to avoiding him at work for goodness knows how long until his ego recovers from our breakup. “Actually, I’m going to resign. I don’t want to work in the same place as my ex.”
Something flashes in his eyes. “Good.” There’s an unmistakable stamp of possessiveness in his tone. “I don’t want you working anywhere near that prick anymore.”
I blink. Considering we’re not in a relationship it’s a weird thing to say, and even if we were officially dating, that kind of ultimatum isn’t something I’d put up with. After all, the final straw for me with Russell was when he tried to pull a similar display of machismo. “It’s hardly up to you who I work with, is it?”
He pulls me back onto the bed and looms over me. Upside down, with his hair falling over his face, he looks downright lethal. “What’s the problem, princess? You just said you were going to leave.”
That’s true. I frown up at him because, unlike Russell, Zach didn’t demand I give up something I love just because it suited his view of how things should be.
“I am.” Of course, being the heir apparent of Mulholland Hotels means my resignation from the L.A. position will simply entail a transfer to another location.
“Was he your boss?” Zach twirls a length of my hair around his finger. He seems to really like playing with my hair.
“No. I don’t have to leave because of anything like that.” The family connections between my parents and Russell’s go back decades, and we’re both being groomed to eventually become Executive Vice Presidents of the Mulholland International hotel chain. If I wanted to play really dirty, it wouldn’t be impossible to have Russell transferred from the central L.A. hotel to Milan or London, where he could continue his stratospheric rise through the ranks to Chief Financial Officer far away from me.
Except I have no great desire to remain in the family business, or to end up on the Executive Board, which has been my career path since I was eighteen, so I don’t really care where I’m based.
I let out an unintentional sigh. Even college and four years in the business hasn’t dimmed my passion for what I’d really like to do with my life.
“What’d you do?” There’s curiosity in his voice, and it’s funny, because I don’t remember the last time I was with someone who had no idea what I do. Just goes to show how narrow my social circle is.
“I’m in HR.” Well, to be precise, my trajectory is shooting for Chief Human Resources Officer, but it’s not anything I’m that enthused about.
“Should be easy enough to get another job.” He brushes the end of one of my curls across my nose, and the upside-down grin on his face is kind of adorable in a demonic way.
“Yes. That’s not the problem.” I push his hand away and go to sit up, but he holds me down as he swings himself across me and cradles my hips with his knees. I slide my hands over his chest because I’m all for having one last sexy session, but he pins my wrists above my head in one hand and braces his weight on his other fist on the bed beside my shoulder.
“It’s not what you want to do.”
It’s not even a question. How can someone who doesn’t know me at all jump to that conclusion? And, more to the point, beright?
“Well…” It’s on the tip of my tongue to deny it, but why should I? “No, not really.”
“So why don’t you just do what you want?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Why?”
I bite my lip. He wouldn’t understand. And then I wonder…would he?
“It’s tied into my family. Suppose you’d decided against joining your motorcycle club—would that’ve been an easy decision?”
He frowns, obviously considering it. “I always wanted to join. But if I hadn’t, no one would’ve made me.”
Okay, that’s a surprise. I thought it was like a cult thing. Obviously not.
“What d’you really want to do, Grace?”
No way am I telling him that. “It doesn’t matter.” I try to sound dismissive but my face heats, damn it, which must be the reason why he forks his fingers through my hair and holds my head as though I’m about to escape. As if that would even be possible, given the way he’s pinned me to the bed.
