Matched to a Billionaire(19)

The kiss deepened and the hand on her thigh inched higher, trailing   sparkling warmth along with it. She tilted her hips in silent   invitation, begging him to take those fingers wherever he so desired.

But then he pulled away, chest heaving, and spun her to face the wall, his torso hot against her spine.

"Daniella," he murmured in her ear, and his fingertip traced the line of   her dress where it met the flesh of her back, toying with the zipper.   "I'm about to pull this down and taste every inch of you until we're   both mindless. Is that what you want?"

Damp heat flooded her and she shuddered. "Only if you call me Dannie while you do it."

He strangled over a groan and moved her forward a confusing foot, then two. "I can't do this."

"Don't say you don't want me." So close. Don't back off now. She whirled   and tilted her chin at the bulge in his pants she'd felt branding her   bottom. "I already know that's not true. You don't kiss someone like   that unless you mean it."

"That's the problem." Breath rattled in his throat on a raw exhale. "You   want me to mean it in a very different way than I do mean it. I'd   rather not disappoint you and that's where this is headed. Making love   will not change the fact that tomorrow I'm still going to work a   sixteen-hour day, leaving little time for you. Until both of us can live   with that, I need you to walk away."

He was blocking himself off from her again, but for a very good reason.   The rejection didn't even bother her. How could it? He was telling her   he didn't want to treat her like a one-night stand.

That set off a whole different sort of flutter.

"I'm walking." For now. She needed a cooler head-among other parts-to navigate this unexpected twist to their marriage.

She skirted the desk, putting much-needed distance between them.

Raking a hand through his hair, he sank into the chair with a pained grimace. "Good night."

"This was the best date I've ever been on."

With that parting shot, she left him to his paperwork, already plotting   how to crack that shell open a little wider and find the strong,  amazing  heart she knew beat beneath. He thought they were holding off  until she  was okay with no-emotional-investment sex, but he was already  so  emotionally invested, he was afraid of hurting her.

That's what had changed. Somehow, she had to help him see what he truly needed from her.

If a large percentage of success happened by showing up and then   outwaiting the competition, she could do that. Yes, her competition was   an intangible, unfathomable challenge called work, but the reward   compensated for the effort.

Time for a little relocation project.





Seven


The silky feel of Daniella's thigh haunted Leo for days. And if he   managed to block it from his mind, her fiery responses when he kissed   her replaced that memory immediately.

It didn't seem to matter how many spreadsheets he opened on his laptop.   Or how many proposals for new ventures he heard. Or whether he slept at   the office because he lacked the strength to be in the same house with   Daniella. Sleeping as a whole didn't work so well when his wife  invaded  his unconscious state to star in erotic dreams.

There was no neat, predefined box for her. For any of this. It was messing him up.                       
       
           



       

He hadn't seen Daniella in four days and the scent of strawberries still lingered in his nose.

Fingers snapped before his eyes and Leo blinked. Mrs. Gordon was at his   desk, peering at him over her reading glasses. "I called your name four   times."

"Sorry. Long night."

Mrs. Gordon's gaze flicked to the other end of Leo's office, where a   sitting area overlooked downtown Dallas. "Because that couch is too   short for a big, strapping young man like you."

He grinned in spite of being caught daydreaming, a mortifying situation   if it had been anyone other than his admin. "Are you flirting with me?"

"Depends. How much trouble are you in at home?" Her raised eyebrows   wiped the smile off his face. "Enough that an old woman looks pretty   good right about now?"

"I'm not in trouble at home. What does that even mean? You think I got kicked out?" He frowned.

It bothered him because deep down, he knew he'd taken the coward's way   out. Being friends with his wife hadn't worked out so well. She was too   sexy, too insightful.

"Au contraire. You're in trouble. It's all over your face."

"That's ridiculous." Leo scrubbed his jaw, not that he believed for a   second he could erase whatever she thought she saw there, and fingered a   spot he'd missed shaving that morning. The executive bathroom off his   office left nothing to be desired, but two hours of sleep had affected   his razor hand, apparently.

"Forget her birthday, did you?" Mrs. Gordon nodded sagely.

Soon we'll be buying each other birthday cards, Daniella had said, but   he didn't even know when her birthday was. "Our marriage isn't like   that."

Mrs. Gordon's mouth flattened. Her favorite way to remind him she had   his number. "Why do I get the feeling you and your wife have differing   opinions about that?"

He sighed and the hollow feeling in his stomach grew worse because she   was right. "Did you hear from Tommy Garrett's people yet?"

"Don't change the subject. I'd have told you if I heard from Garrett and   you know it. Just like you know you've got a problem at home that you   better address sooner rather than later. I've been married for thirty   years. I know things." She clucked. "Take my advice. Buy her flowers and   sleep in your own bed tonight."

He had the distinct impression Mrs. Gordon believed his wife would be in the bed, as well. He didn't correct her.

After all, what sort of weakness did that reveal?

He couldn't have sex with his own wife because he'd backed himself into   an impossible corner. She wanted some kind of intimacy, which he   couldn't give her, and he didn't want to hurt her. He'd thought   friendship might be enough, but friends apparently talked about aspects   of themselves that he just couldn't share. Especially not drawing. It   was tied to his obsessive side, which he kept under wraps.

How long would Dannie remain patient before finding someone who would   give her what she wanted? Women in his life usually lasted about two   months before bailing.

He'd never cared before. Never dreamed he'd experience moments of pure   panic at the thought of Daniella going the way of previous companions.   They had a convenient marriage, but that meant it would be easy to   dissolve when it was no longer convenient for her.

By 9:00 p.m., Leo couldn't argue with his admin's logic any longer. His   body screamed to collapse in a dead sleep, but he couldn't physically   make himself lie down on that couch.

What was he really accomplishing by avoiding his wife? When he'd told   her to walk after nearly stripping her bare right there in his study,   she had. No questions, no hysterics, no accusations. She was fine with   holding off on advancing their relationship.

Daniella wasn't the problem. He was.

He was a weak daydreamer who'd rather scratch a pencil over pieces of   paper all day and then spend several hours exploring his wife's naked   body that night. And do it again the next day, abandoning all his goals   with Reynolds Capital Management in a heartbeat for incredible sex and a   few pictures. He'd done exactly that before, and he feared the   consequences would be far worse if he did it with Daniella.

If he could resist the lure of drawing, he could resist the Helen of   Troy he'd married. As long as he didn't kiss her again, he had a good   shot at controlling himself. Of course, the real problem was that deep   down, he was pretty sure he didn't want to.

He drove to the house he'd bought with his own money, where he'd created   a safe, secure home that no one could take away. The lights always   shone brightly and the boiler always heated water. And Leo would die   before allowing that to change.                       
       
           



       

Daniella wasn't downstairs. Good. Hopefully she was already asleep in   her room. If so, he could get all the way to his bedroom without running   into her.

As he passed the study, his neck heated as the dream from last night   roared into his mind-the one where he finished that kiss from the other   night by spinning Daniella facedown onto the desk, pushing up that sexy   dress and plunging into her wet heat again and again until she  convulsed  around him with a cry.