“Um. I didn’t, uh, go to either of the ones you suggested.”
He blinks at me. “Please don’t tell me you went back to T.J. Maxx.”
An awkward laugh escapes me. “No, I didn’t,” I grin and down the last of my wine before setting the glass on the table with an audibleclink. I need the confidence. “I was going to go to the places you suggested. Agent… whatever. Fleur du Mal. But I was passing by this little boutique and one of the displays in the front window drew me in.”
He raises a brow. “I’m not sure I trust your taste in lingerie enough to feel good about that.”
“I bought five sets,” I say slowly, holding his gaze. “They measured me. The total was nearly eight grand.” His nostrils flare. Heat immediately blooms between my thighs. It’s a physical reaction to the way he’s looking at me. It’s like he’s already peeling off my clothes in his mind. “Is thatokay?”
A muscle in his jaw clenches. “That is…” he starts, his outstretched hand curling into a tight fist as he brings it back to himself, “more than okay.”
He takes a deep breath and eases back into his chair. His face relaxes, but his heated gaze remains instead of the brief glimpse of ferity. The intensity is still there, simmering beneath the surface. Whatever caged animal nearly slipped between the bars of its enclosure is clearly safely contained once again.
“We should discuss things. Before this goes further,” he says, the words coming out as rough as sandpaper. “Limits for both of us. Making sure we’re both on the same page. All the nitty-gritty details.”
“I already said?—”
“I know. I know, but I want to make sure. This isn’t justsex, April. We’re going to achieve a particular outcome, and that comes with a hell of a lot more strings than a one-night-stand.”
I swallow, nodding tightly. “Right. Okay.”
He shifts slightly in his seat, fidgeting with the watch around his wrist. “I want to make it absolutely clear that this arrangement doesn’t require anything more than two consenting bodies,” he says slowly, meeting my gaze halfway through and holding it. His mask is slipping back into place. I hate how much it irks me. “I appreciate that looks like a lot more for you. Yours is the one that will have to carry and deliver, and I want you to know now that I am already thankful for that, even though we haven’t started.”
I don’t know how to respond to that, so I just give him another tight nod.
“You should know that it can’t go any further than what I’ve laid out,” he says. “You shouldn’t expect any…feelingsfrom me. At least, none outside of natural instincts.”
I blink. The voice is gentle, and the words he says are the same I’ve told myself, but it feels so much worse hearing him say them out loud. I try not to show the warring emotions on my face, try to keep my features soft and neutral like he does. “O…kay.”
“I’m not capable of love,” he adds. His tone is matter-of-fact, not cruel. It’s like a simple truth he’s lived with long enough that it doesn’t sting him anymore. “Not in the way most people are, at least.”
My chest tightens. “I’m not asking you for that,” I say, the words a little quiet.
“I know, but it’s still worth mentioning, considering this will probably take a few tries before we succeed. It’s more likely for feelings to develop, and I just want you to know upfront that I can’t give you that.
He watches me carefully. “But what Icangive is…” His gaze drops to my mouth. “…everythingelse.”
My cheeks feel red and hot again, and I shrink back into my seat, my spine curling, my toes digging into the sand.
He leans forward, nullifying my shift. “I want you to let go tonight,” he rasps. “Enjoy it. All of it. No guilt or fear. No pretending you don’t want this. Tonight is strictly about pleasure. No strings, no expectations. I will not judge you, and I will not pressure you. You have nothing to worry about, well not much, at least.”
My stomach coils, and I’m not sure if it’s nerves or excited anticipation. “Much?”
His lips perk up a little as he says, “I don’t want to toot my own horn, per se. But most women panic a little when they see it.”
Oh god.
Ohgod.
“I promise it’ll fit.”
What started as a faint prickle turns into a raging inferno. A soft laugh breaks from his lips, and it might be the hottest sound I’ve ever heard. “You’re cute when you blush.”
“You can’t just—just—dropthat on me…”
“April. Princess,” he says, that stupid pet name slipping from his lips so easily. His eyes track down my curled body and back up. “You’re about to see it anyway, should I not have warned you?”
“I-I don’t…”
