“Point taken.” She put her smile on, the one she reserved for press conferences. “I guess we’re going to Thailand.”
CHAPTER FIVE
IT WAS late when Gage’s private plane landed on the island of Koh Samui. A car was waiting for them when they got off of the plane. Lily expected nothing less. Gage was always efficient. Or at least, the people he hired were always completely efficient. Which, she imagined, brought it back around to Gage being efficient.
She took a deep breath of the humid, salty air before getting into the limo.
Gage settled in beside her. His top button was undone, his tie long discarded, his sleeves pushed up over his elbows, revealing tanned, muscular forearms that demanded an in-depth study from female admirers. He still smelled good, too, even after long hours of travel.
“Don’t you find the limo a bit cliché?” she asked, running her hands unconsciously over the cool leather.
“I find it practical. I have a driver, I have privacy. I have enough room to work—” he looked at her, his blue eyes hot “—or play.”
She held up a hand and tried to ignore the chip in her manicure. “I don’t need to hear about your backseat exploits.”
He reached across the seats and gripped the clip that was holding her bun in place, letting her brown hair fall around her in a heavy curtain. He slid his fingers through it, rubbing the tender places that were sore from so many hours pinned back. The gentle pressure of his fingers felt so good. It was part massage, part sexual tease. She wanted to tilt her head and lean into his touch. To moan in ecstasy over what he was making her feel.
Instead she jerked her head away from his touch. “Why did you do that?”
“You may not want to discuss any of my backseat exploits, but if there are reporters waiting at the resort it wouldn’t hurt you to look as though you’d been engaging in some of your own.” He drew his thumb lightly over her cheek. “You’re already flushed.”
She let her breath out slowly. “It’s hot.”
His blue eyes were serious, studying, and she felt her face get even hotter. “Yes. It is.” He moved away from her, leaning back against the seat.
“How is the building project going?” she asked. Anything to break the tension that had just stretched between them, so real and tight that it had seemed like a physical force. It was worse that she was sure he felt it.
But then he was a man, and she was a woman, so, naturally, if she was giving off any attraction vibes he was going to pick up on them and reciprocate. It was the way it worked. A woman didn’t need to be especially desirable, only available.
“It’s going well. Most of the individual villas are up and ready for use. The main portion of the resort is still under construction, but I’ve made sure that the villa we’re staying in is totally stocked, and some of the housekeeping staff I’ve already hired are staying on site, so they’ll be around to take care of our needs.”
“I don’t need housekeeping,” she said dryly. “How do you think I manage in my daily life?”
“I assumed you were busy and you would have some domestic help.”
Which would require her to allow a stranger in her house. Which might seem fanatical to some, but she’d done cramped, shared communal living with her mother and whatever man of the month her mother was currently attached to. No privacy. And some of the men had attempted to take advantage … it was no wonder she’d never been the kind of woman to experiment with flings. She’d had to work too hard to maintain any sort of innocence in that environment.
“We’re not all billionaires, Gage.”
“But I know what I pay you,” he said dryly.
“But you don’t know my expenses. Maybe I own beachfront property.”
“You don’t.”
She turned to him, eyebrows raised. “You don’t think I do?”
“You’re too sensible.”
She smirked. “As it happens I own a beachfront condo.”
The West Coast, the ocean, had been her dream growing up. She’d seen the ocean for the first time at seventeen, when she moved to California, and it had been her goal to be able to see it from her bedroom window. It had taken quite a few years, but eighteen months ago she’d finally gotten the keys to her new beachfront home. A home she’d worked for. The home she’d earned. It had been the best feeling in the world. The ultimate reward for her years of hard work, focus and independence.
“You don’t seem the type.”
“I don’t?”
“Do you surf? Swim?”
She laughed. “No.”