God. He tipped his head back and sluiced the water out of his face. He’d told himself not to do it. Had warned himself it was a mistake. Why did he continue to let himself want what he couldn’t have? How could he be tangling himself up in a woman who was not only the obsession of Alexander Gagnon, she was rapidly becoming his?
He tipped shampoo over his head and attempted to scrub some sense back into his brain. He needed to focus on this presentation and win. Take Bailey at her word. It had been one night of ridiculously good sex agreed upon by two consenting adults.
The fact that Bailey had stolen a piece of his heart last night, had been stealing pieces of it for the past week, was inconsequential. He would never be the kind of man who connected on a permanent basis. He didn’t have it in him.
It was time he started acting like it.
Bailey leaned back against the bathroom door, nail in her mouth in an absentminded chew as she contemplated an in-the-shower Jared from the perspective of a woman he’d just taken to heaven and back. She was sure no other man would equal his outrageously good body and technique, and had a newfound appreciation for the tennis bracelet club in the Valley.
She replaced the thoroughly chewed nail with another. Last night had been exactly what she’d needed to take her mind off Alexander Gagnon. Except she wasn’t sure it’d just been sex. She could have stayed in Jared’s arms forever. And that was the problem. Not that he’d sneaked out of her bed.
She swallowed hard. Last night had been unforgettable. The heartbreakingly beautiful way Jared taken her virginity, so in tune with her every emotion…how treasured he’d made her feel…how desired.
Oh, Lord. She snaked a hand through her tangled hair. She’d told herself she wasn’t getting emotional about this. Enough.
She cleared her throat. “Could you tell me where that research is? I want to read it before our meeting.”
The click of the shower shutting off should have been her first clue he was getting out. Why she stood there frozen as he shoved the curtain aside and reached for a towel, water dripping off his utterly delicious masculinity, she wasn’t sure.
“Sorry, I—” She took a step backward. “I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.”
“For God’s sake, Bailey.” He ran the towel over his hair. “You had your legs wrapped around me last night. It’s a little late to be embarrassed.”
Yes, well, that was last night and this was now. She bit her lip. “Was that your phone I heard earlier?”
He nodded, relieving her immensely by wrapping the towel around his hips. The hard set of his angular face didn’t do a great job of reinforcing that comfort, however. His blue gaze was laser-focused and impersonal as he waved his hand toward the bedroom. “It’s on the table by the window. Help yourself.”
She shifted her weight to the other foot, studied him. Regret. Definitely regret. Fine.
“I ordered us coffee and croissants. I’ll go read it.”
“Thanks.”
She waited, a fraction of a second, just to see if he’d have anything to say about last night. Anything that might make today a little less awkward.
The silence was deafening.
She dug her toe into the tile and looked up at him. “It’s clear you regret what happened last night.”
He gave her an even look. “I don’t regret it.”
“Then why do you look li—”
“Bailey.” His gaze narrowed. “It was great. It was hot. You were hot. Absolutely worth it. What else can I say?”
She squinted at him. Had he actually just said that?
A sharp pain gouged her insides. “Right,” she said, clenching her stomach and pushing past it. “Good to know. And in case you’re running a little scared which is wholly possible, you’re absolutely right. I meant what I said. It was one night. We’re good.”
She turned on her heel and left before she became certified dangerous.
They spent the morning hearing presentations from the marketing and sales groups at Maison headquarters in the Montparnasse district of Paris. Jared thought it interesting that Bailey sat on the other side of the room from him beside an attractive, very young French marketing executive who flirted with her at every possible opportunity. He told himself it was a smart, strategic move on her part, positioning herself as part of the Maison team.
That was before, however, she walked away from him midsentence during a break. Before she blew off his request to get her a coffee.
“Bailey.” He kept his voice low as he cornered her on the way back from the machine, coffee in hand. “You know this can’t happen between us. It’s a bad idea.”