“Oh, gorgeous, you just set a challenge I intend to win.”
Shoving my feet into my heels, I met his smoldering stare. “Well, if you lose, I win, and if you win, I win, so I’m looking forward to the trying.”
North laughed as he followed me to the door. But as I opened it, he leaned in and whispered hotly in my ear, “There’s no running away tomorrow night. You’re mine all fucking night, and I intend to keep you busy coming until dawn.”
A shiver of need so powerful rippled over me I almost slammed the door shut and jumped him. Instead, I turned to find his lips an inch from mine, his expression deadly serious.
My answer was to close the distance between our mouths and take his in a deep, slow, wet kiss that promised I was up for that challenge too.
A few minutes later, I let myself into the staff elevator, hoping I didn’t bump into anyone because I had sex hair, swollen lips, and I was pretty sure my nipples were hard enough to poke through my bra.
I felt alive.
Awake.
I felt like the girl I’d lost years ago. The one who’d been excited by her sexual awakening before those men came along and made her want to hide.
North had done what Sloane said he might. He’d guided me back to myself. I wasn’t all the way there yet, but I was inching closer.
I just had to keep in mind that this was all it was. My sexual reawakening and a bit of harmless no-strings sex for him.
It was nothing more.
More would hurt us both.
Seventeen
NORTH
Thunderous clouds above had turned the North Sea gunmetal gray as rain battered it, dancing off the water’s surface like oil hopping off a hot pan. I shivered from the safety of the Howards’ beach house porch, admiring the force of nature. Waves crashed onto the shore below, the rhythmic sound, while more aggressive than usual, soothing.
I envied Aria this home, its position, its sanctuary. But only from here. Inside, while stylish and comfortable, it didn’t feel lived in. There was no sign of what Aria’s life consisted of outside work. No hobbies I could see. I imagined her returning home here late every night to no one to hold her and listen about her day and help her decompress.
The idea was miserable, and it agitated me.
She was living half a life here, and it was a damn travesty.
Dictator’s “Moonlight”rang in my arse pocket, and I pulled out my phone to see Theo calling.
Stepping back inside, I closed the porch doors and marveled at the silence that followed. The beach house windows had to be made with special noise-reduction glass. Heat licked my chilled skin as I answered my phone and lounged down by the fire.
“Cavendish, you sneaky bastard,” I answered casually.
He drawled, amused. “What the hell have I done now?”
“You sicced Walker on me about those letters.”
“Oh, that. I just mentioned it in passing. It’s not like I give a shit about you, mate.”
I grinned. “Right. How are you?”
“This lead actor is killing me. I walked into ‘a situation’ when I agreed to guest direct. Viola Stewart, his costar, got a lot of attention for season one, and now he’s acting like a little prick. Late to set, questioning lines, questioning camera shots. Next time he does it, I’m going to fucking stuff him in a used Portaloo.”
My lips twitched. “Who is it again?”
“Lucas Grant. A bit of a newcomer. The bastard has talent and charisma for sure, but Viola’s on another level, and his fragile ego cannot stand it.”
Blood rushed to my ears. “Did you say Lucas Grant?”
