“Sure, here.”
He gave her two tablets and a blessedly cold glass of water to wash them down. “What happened last night?”
“You, um, required some help last night.” His lips held a trace of smile, redeemed by his expression of concern.
The complete blank in her memory disturbed her. “Why don’t I remember getting up to our room?”
“Because I carried you.”
“What?” Oh, good Lord. Her shoulders sank. “I’ll bet that was fun.”
“Then you threw up in the bathroom,” he said, filling her in on things she wished she didn’t know.
She buried her face in her hands. “So classy.”
A soft chuckle drifted to her. “All things considered, you held up pretty well. You brushed your teeth on your own, as long as I held you steady over the sink. You even remembered to take your birth control pill.”
She peeked through her fingers at him. “Seriously?”
“Then you started stripping down, and—”
She dropped her hands to her lap. “Isaac, did we…?”
To his credit, his lip curled with abhorrence. “Hell, no. I’d never take advantage of you like that.”
“Thank you,” she mumbled, but he had no idea how much that meant to her.
“I made you drink two glasses of water before bed, hoping to give you an edge over a hangover.”
Dismayed, she shook her head at herself. “I’m sorry I was such a disaster. Again.”
“I’d say more of a hot mess,” he said with a wink. “Emphasis on hot.”
“Oh, please.” She groaned, furious she’d drunk too much and he’d had to babysit her.
God, he looked gorgeous. Sleep-rumpled and lounging in bed like a model after a photo shoot. She was so crazy about him.
Sober now, she also realized that last night she’d overreacted. He’d been clear-minded and extremely professional in his response to Marcus’s request to take her out to lunch. And totally right. She’d come on this trip in the hopes of inciting a personal relationship with Isaac, but her main focus had to stay on the desired outcome. Isaac had his own career goals to achieve, and she needed to make sure she came across with the same professional courtesy he maintained so well. She couldn’t shut off her emotions, but she’d never let them negatively impact his career.
At the same time, she respected that Isaac lived and breathed the salesman persona. Asking him not to do his job, regardless of her discomfort, would be like telling him to stop breathing. Not a happy situation for either of them. Certainly not for the long haul, if it ever got that far. Which it probably wouldn’t, after last night.
“Sorry I overreacted last night. You were right. It’s just business. All about the sale.”
Quickly she scooted out of bed, grabbed the beautiful pink and black dress from the closet and stepped into the bathroom to prepare for lunch with Marcus. After showering and blow drying her hair, she stepped into the dress and zipped it up the side. She slid her palms over her figure beneath the luxurious fabric. How she wished she and Isaac were going on a date. She loved how she looked and felt in this dress, and she wanted to feel this way beside Isaac, not Marcus.
With a heavy sigh, she shoved those useless thoughts away and applied her makeup. Then she stepped into her high heels and walked out of the bathroom.
Isaac sat on the edge of the bed tugging a hand through his hair, until he looked up at her and froze. His jaw went slack, just as it had in the dressing room when she’d first tried on this dress. Once again her heart did a somersault in her chest.
But she had a job to do, right?
She grabbed her purse and headed for the door. “I guess I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Suddenly, he leaped off the bed. His arm shot out in front of her while his body heat seeped through her dress. His palm flattened on the door, clicking the latch closed. “If you don’t want to go, then don’t.”
Surprised by his reaction, she stared up into his dark eyes filled with conflicted emotions she couldn’t separate. “But I thought this is what I was supposed to do—”
“Don’t go to him.” The torment twisting his features wrung her heart. “Stay with me. Let me make love to you.”
Chapter 8
Isaac’s pride burned at the thought of her going out with another man. She looked too beautiful to let her out of his sight or his arms. She was his, damn it.
No spoiled Russian playboy would take her away from him. Even if his actions right now went against everything he’d been taught and believed. Last night, she made him question all his staunch beliefs about sales and salesmanship. Why the hell should she have to compromise her ideals to land a sale? And why had he?