Loving War(68)

“Because you’re amazing,” he says, leaving me breathless when he breaks the kiss and resumes smiling at me, bending down to where his eyes stay on mine. “All they had to do was see that.”

Everything inside me turns to mush, and he kisses my nose before heading over to the dresser and dropping his towel.

Yeah… frigging speechless. All I can do is stare and marvel at the man who is slowly pulling on a pair of boxer-briefs.

He grins over his shoulder when he catches my eyes taking in the firm lines of his exquisite ass, but I barely register anything. This is like a dream—a high so unimaginable that it can’t be real.

“You can keep staring, or you can grab a glass of champagne,” he says while grinning, moving over to the black oak table that seems much too elegant for this room. As he picks up a glass and fills it, he gives me that smirk that tells me he knows exactly what’s on my mind. “I’m good with either.”

Swallowing hard, I stare at him. Do not say anything stupid, Tria. Don’t you dare.

“I’ll take the champagne while I stare,” I say with a flirty grin, proud of myself for doing good.

There’s no way he can impress me any more than he already has, so I should be okay for the rest of the night.

“I wanted to take us out tonight, but I also knew what all would be going on in your pretty little head.”

I highly doubt that.

“Oh?” I muse, taking a sexy-strutted step toward him and his almost naked body. “What’s that?”

He grins that boyish grin that doesn’t prove he’s seduced, but rather excited.

“First, tell me how the bidding war went.”

Tilting my head, I ask, “How’d you know—”

“You’ve already got a deal, Tria. That means they were thoroughly impressed with you. Enough that they couldn’t risk someone else offering you a spot before you left. Considering the rejections you’ve received, they all most likely worried you’d take the first offer without holding out for a better one. Now, how many were in the bidding war, and how sweet was your deal?”

Grinning like an idiot, I shrug, trying my best not to squeal and jump around like I want to. Unfortunately, I end up squealing and launching myself into his arms, jumping up and wrapping my legs around his waist while I giggle hysterically from the excitement.

He laughs while holding me to him, and I rain kisses all over his face in a sloppy, jerky manner that has him laughing harder.

“Three out of five,” I say, though the words are said through my heavy breaths and giggling, so I know they’re hard to understand. “And I’ll show you the details of the awesome deal I got. Thank you for sending your lawyer there to help me, by the way. You’re so unbelievably amazing.”

He smiles against my lips while trying to kiss me, and I grip him tighter between my legs. We’re both smiling too big to really kiss.

“I like seeing you this happy,” he says, drawing his face back just enough to find my eyes.

“Well, you’re the one who made me this happy. They wouldn’t have ever met with me if it wasn’t for you.”

He runs his nose along my jaw, and I lightly kiss his cheek, trying to get my breath back. But now the adrenaline has resurfaced, and I feel like I could dance in the streets without any shame.

“What did you think was on my mind?” I muse, enjoying how he holds me with effortless ease, but then his bruises cross my mind, and I try to wiggle free. I feel like shit for forgetting them.

He doesn’t let me go right away, and I seriously become curious about his pain tolerance, because he seemed to really be hurting yesterday, but he acts unaffected today.

“Ah,” he says, still grinning as he walks over to the table and slowly puts me on my feet. He reaches down for his briefcase, and he pulls out several thick folders packed full of pages. “These are résumés.”

I’m confused, my mind still hazy as I try to stay upright and not pass out from the excitement that is bubbling through me without mercy.

“We’re staying in because you’ll have a ton of questions, and I’m the best person to answer them. We’ll start with assembling your team so that you aren’t overwhelmed with things to do. Everyone in these stacks is ready to start work right now; they’ve passed my screening process—which is very hard to do; and they have negotiable rates that will go with the budget you discussed with me. We’ll sort these out and find the perfect fit for you.”

Ah, hell.

Tears water up in my eyes, and he looks down at me with bemusement riddling his expression.

“What’d I do wrong?”