“If I would’ve realized I’d get to be in your company, I may have arrived sooner,” Sierra teased him, then laughed when he actually blushed.
“Sierra, you’re terrible. You know you’re making my husband think all kinds of terrible thoughts about our college days, now. He’s dying to know if we did actually have pillow fights in tight camisoles and panties,” Bree said with a huge grin.
“I’d never picture any woman but you, baby,” Chad quickly recovered as he kissed his wife with the passion of a newlywed, though they’d been married for several years.
“You’re a very wise man, Chad,” Sierra said as he held open the back door for her.
“I get things right on occasion.”
Sierra peaked in the window noticing the baby wasn’t there.
“Where’s Mathew?”
“He’s at the house with his Uncle Max at the moment,” Bree said. “Max brings over Ariel and the two of them play. They’re really cute together.”
“You’re so lucky to have such great siblings, Bree. I’ve always envied that about you.”
“I do love them all, even when their nothing but a pain in my butt,” Bree admitted.
Chad held open Bree’s door, then jogged around to the driver’s side and slid in. Before long, he was weaving through traffic and the gentle motion of the car had Sierra falling asleep.
“Wake up, we’re home.”
Sierra slowly pulled herself from the dream she’d been having, the very erotic dream, starring none other than Damien Whitfield. It was a good thing she was half-way around the world from him, because her body hadn’t yet taken the hint she wasn’t enlisting in an affair with the man.
“Already?” Sierra grumbled, wanting nothing more than to fall back to sleep.
“Yes, already. Let’s just get you inside where you can crash for the rest of the day. We’ll spend all day tomorrow catching up,” Bree promised.
“That sounds heavenly,” Sierra said as she slowly extracted herself from the rig and stumbled into Bree’s large home.
She barely made it up the stairs and to the bedroom before falling face first into the comfortable bed.
Chapter Seventeen
When Damien was in Seattle, he normally had a driver for his travels. He preferred to maximize as much time as possible to work and found driving a waste of his time. However, with his confrontation looming with Sierra, he found he preferred to have as few witnesses as possible.
His gut was churning in anticipation. He was on his way to Bree Anderson’s home. Sierra didn’t know yet that he was about to arrive. He hadn’t bothered with speaking to her on her email as she’d suggested.
No. He wanted to see her face, know what thoughts were going on inside her head. He hadn’t spoken to her in almost two weeks, unable to leave Australia before now.
He’d been back for two days, forcing himself to wait before going to her. He didn’t want jet lag to be a hindrance when they had their confrontation.
Two weeks had done nothing to cure his desire for her. He wanted her now more than ever before, knowing he’d take the first possible moment to ravage her lips. Just the thought of tasting her again had him hardening uncomfortably in his pants. Fury and passion intensified inside him, each feeling trying to topple the other.
He’d made the deal with her father, giving the man large sums of money in exchange for her being his employee. It had obviously turned into more than an employer – employee relationship, which made him even angrier. He’d never had a woman walk out on him before. He didn’t like it one little bit. When he finally got her alone – well, he wasn’t sure he could be responsible for his actions.
The longer he drove, the more he warred with himself, but he came to the conclusion that his seemingly insatiable lust for her was just getting started. What began as nothing more than a business arrangement had quickly fallen off course.
He didn’t know how to deal with it. But Damien Whitfield always knew how to deal with things. This wasn’t a welcomed confusion.
He approached the gate guarding Bree’s home, a smile forming on his lips. It seemed his cousin was a cautious woman. If only she knew who she was about to invite inside her protected space.
Old anger and hurt buzzed inside him like a swarm of angry bees, fighting for a stronghold on his tightly reined-in emotions. The Anderson’s had caused his father’s death, thrown his mother out in the middle of the night, and wanted nothing to do with him. His mother was dead because of them, because she couldn’t afford decent medical care.
It was unacceptable.
He pressed the button, watching as the camera focused on him. He did his best to keep his mask of emotions in place.