The Magnate's Manifesto(50)

She looked up at him, the only sign there was anything going on behind that ice-cold expression of hers the quivering of her bottom lip. “I told you this morning, I get it. Hang on to that impressive set of rules, Jared. It’s all good.”

He stood there, speechless, as she ducked around him and set the coffee down. Really? She was going to be like that about it?

The deep freeze continued throughout the afternoon as they toured three of Maison’s stores in Paris. Through the cocktails that preceded the French company’s annual summer party they’d been invited to attend along with the Gehrig team. He held it together through it all, until they were speaking to the CEO of a Parisian cosmetics company Maison had a partnership with, Jared laying on the charm because the CEO was a great contact to have. Then Bailey rolled her eyes at him. Rolled her eyes at him and muttered something about needing to use the ladies’ room.

He stared after her, a dangerous heat filling his head. What was wrong with her? They had the biggest deal of his life to win tomorrow, he had backed her without fail this entire time, and she was acting like a girl over one night together?

He made it through the rest of his conversation with the CEO, scouted out the washrooms and found them in a hallway off the restaurant. They were one-person affairs, and there were multiples of them. He eyed the one marked women with the door closed, stuck his hand against the wall and waited.

When the door swung open and Bailey stepped out, he pounced.

“Give me a minute, will you?” He bit the words out as he shoved her back into the washroom and shut the door.

“Jared—” She looked up at him with wide eyes. “This is not the place.”

“You’re making it the place.” He jammed his hands in his pockets and stared at her. “You told me last night there were no strings. So for God’s sake what is wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” She bit her lip and made a study of the intricate pattern of the floor tiles.

His curse split the air. He slid his fingers under her chin and brought her gaze up to his. The brightness in her eyes made his stomach clench. “Don’t you do this to me, Bailey. You promised me you’d be okay with this.”

“I am.” She pulled out of his grasp and backed up against the vanity. “I guess I’m just not made of stone like you are. Funny,” she derided, forcing out a harsh bark of laughter, “women like to use that to refer to a certain body part of yours, but I think it better describes your heart. You can just turn it off and on at will, can’t you?”

He looked at her nonplussed. “Apparently not with you, because here I am when I should be schmoozing executives.”

“Oh,” she choked out. “I think you were doing an excellent job of that.”

“Jealous, Bailey?”

She stared him down for a moment, then leaned back against the vanity and ran her hands through her hair. “I just—I don’t…I’m just finding it hard to put last night aside. To pretend it wasn’t special when to me, it was.”

He felt his carefully engineered defenses dissolve into dust. Bailey was like a flaw in his perfectly designed ability not to care. A weakness that would surely dismantle him completely if he let it.

“It was…special to me too,” he admitted, choosing his words carefully. ‘I just don’t want us to get too carried away here.”

“Why?” She poked him in the chest, and God, didn’t she know by now how much that antagonized him? “What do you think might happen if you let yourself feel? The earth might open up and swallow you whole?”

“No, Bailey…”

“Then what? What do you think’s going to happen?”

He reached for her then, his hands purposeful as he sank them into her waist and deposited her on the marble counter. “I might do this.”

He brought his mouth down on hers in a hot, hungry kiss that was equal parts punishment and absolution. She pushed her hands against his shoulders as if to reject him, but if he was jumping into the fire, then so was she. He cupped her jaw, gentled the kiss and called himself a complete and absolute fool. A sigh racked her as she buried her fingers in his hair and kissed him back, heated and without reserve.

When he finally lifted his head, it was to nudge her thighs apart, step between them and draw her closer. “You are pulling me apart, piece by piece,” he admitted huskily. “And I don’t like it.”

“I don’t, either.” She reached up and cradled his jaw in her palms. “But you hurt me this morning, Jared. Be honest with me, yes, but at least explain where it’s coming from.”