Chapter 10: Overruled

Orson did not flinch at the sound.

He stared at me in the dim light of the car, and his chest rose and fell, and then he laughed, once, low and unsteady.

"There you are," he said.

"What was that?"

"I'll tell you everything I know. Upstairs." His thumb traced my bottom lip. "Not here."

"Business only," I said. It was the last term I had left, and it came out thin. "That was the arrangement."

"Then fire me."

I pulled his mouth back down to mine.

The driver took us home without once looking in the mirror.

We did not speak in the elevator.

His hand was spread across my lower back, and every floor we passed my skin climbed toward it.

The guest suite door shut behind us.

He backed me against it and kissed me until my head went light.

"Tell me to stop," he said against my jaw. "Say it, if it's what you want."

"If you stop I will kill you."

His laugh broke on my throat.

He found the zipper of the green dress and drew it down slowly, one inch at a time, and the silk slid off my shoulders and fell.

I stood in front of him in my underwear and nothing else.

Seven years with Broderick, and I had never once been looked at like that.

Orson looked at me slowly, all of me, and did not hurry.

"Beautiful," he said, rough.

"You're wearing too much."

"Am I?"

"Take it off."

He took off the jacket.

I unbuttoned his shirt myself, with hands that would not hold still, and pushed it off his shoulders.

He was lean and hard, with a long pale scar across his ribs.

I put my mouth on it.

He made a sound I felt in my own stomach.

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