“It was cute.”
“Really?”
A charged silence filled the air between them. They were sitting on the most romantic bed she’d ever seen in real life. Fluffy, scattered with rose petals, spritzed with perfume, and surrounded by gauzy curtains. It was their own little world. She was naked under her robe. One loose knot from nudity. They were on vacation in the Azores. “So…” she said in a voice that didn’t even sound like her own, “we’re in the honeymoon suite.”
Markus’s professional façade cracked and he broke into a big, dopey, lopsided smile.
The nightstand had several bottles of lotions and oils, and something that she was pretty sure was artisanal lube. If she opened a drawer, there was probably more. The honeymoon suite was even sexier than the room Justin had designed, which was saying something.
With Markus this close, she wasn’t sure where to look. All her thoughts were turning dirty, and her heartbeat was beginning to tick up. She tried to blink away every nasty thought that was crossing her mind, but it must have been written on her face.
Following her thoughts, Markus’s gaze drifted to the nightstand. “They thought of everything, didn’t they?”
There was no way to get through this professionally. Work wives was no boundary at all if this was their office. The EOD was pushing them off the cliff into romance.
He slid a little closer and rested his hand on her thigh, just below the hem of the robe. Her whole being focused on the warm press of his hand. She desperately wanted to lean in, to encourage him to hike that robe up. It would be a shame if someone didn’t appreciate all that waxing.
Her focus blurred, and she let her head fall back. She wasthirty-eight years old, a grown woman. Screw all her reasons for not wanting to jump into a relationship. What were they even? Her kids? They weren’t here. It was time for Gabby to have some fun. It was her turn, damn it.
She inched closer. As she did, the robe hiked up higher, dangerously high.
His voice lower than normal, Markus rasped, “Don’t tease me, Gabs.” He lifted his hand from her thigh.
Before she had a chance to say anything, he took a deep breath and collected himself. “My bad. I’m respecting the boundaries you set. You were right.”
Why in the hell had she set a boundary, again?
When he got up and walked away, she practically groaned in frustration. “Please, come back.”
The look Markus gave her was pure inner turmoil.
“Markus,” Gabby pointed out logically, “there’s only one bed.” She said it with conviction, like it was a prophecy. The universe had spoken.
With a chuckle, he said, “Um, yeah. But you were right. I can take the couch.”
“That’s thoughtful,” she said, “But Markus—” Gabby looked up, desperate for another touch. “There’s only one bed, and the psychic said—”
“Gabby, did it occur to you that Sheridan might be in on it?”
Gabby didn’t think so. If she didn’t believe in psychic powers before, she did now.
The ass crack of dawn, the honeymoon cottage
Gabby awoke in paradise after almost no sleep. How early did the sun come up in the Azores? Whatever time it was, it was too early. And too bright. She groaned and slipped deeper into the luxury bedding. A lot of relationship confusion and a late night—it was like college all over again, but with a higher thread count and more to lose.
After ten minutes of applying Inner Beauty products with no noticeable effect, Gabby joined Markus on their private patio with a view of the beach. Before she’d met Phil, she’d sold vacations like this but had never taken a trip herself. Here she was, smack-dab in the middle of one of the fantasies she’d marketed: palm trees, turquoise waters, umbrella drinks, and some snorkeling just to say you did it. A couple of people were doing sun salutations on the sand, but far enough away that they weren’t a bother. Sort of like if you lived somewhere other than LA and had deer in your yard.
“I think this is too nice to be a cult,” she said. Sure, there were weird things: all the nasty green juice and undue amounts of yoga, but so far, the vibes weren’t that much different than Whole Foods, which, granted, was a low-key cult.
“We’ll have an informed opinion soon, and we have plenty to do. Keep Sheridan safe, even if she doesn’t want us to, map out Inner-G’s organizational structure, and assess the potential for sensitive information leaks.” Markus passed her an itinerary. “Did you see our schedules?”
Her first impression: too much yoga.
Gabby glanced at Markus’s. “Why aren’t they the same?”
“Something about men going one direction and women another.” Markus shrugged.
She frowned at the schedule. “Are the men going to offend our delicate sensibilities by talking about sex and farting too loud?”
