Page 29 of In the Heir (Westerly Billionaire 1)
And her resolve would crumble.
“I like jazz. I close my eyes and the peace of it sweeps over me.”
Swept away was close to how Brett felt when Alisha played as she described and gave herself over to the music. There was nothing overtly sexual about what she was doing, but he was torturing himself with the image of her talented fingers dancing their way off the keyboard and onto him.
He reminded himself of his promise: they would spend the next two days together without the pressure of more. Which meant he couldn’t give in to the urge to lean over and kiss her bare shoulder. He definitely couldn’t run his hand from her bare knee up her thigh, slide it beneath the light material of her dress to cup her sex. Taking her by the shoulders, turning her to face him on the bench so he could ease her down onto her back, was also strictly off-limits. As was ripping away her underclothing and spreading her wide for his hungry mouth.
If I’m not going to do anything, why the fuck did I invite her in?
Because no other woman has ever reduced me to this.
“You need to go,” he growled.
The music instantly stopped. Her eyes flew open, and her cheeks turned an embarrassed bright shade of red. “Oh. I didn’t mean to give you a full concert. I’m—” This time she stopped herself. “I haven’t played in a while, and it felt so good.”
Brett’s cock hardened at her choice of words. He stood. “I’ll show you out.”
He didn’t let the disappointed expression on her face deter him from opening the suite door and hustling her out of it. She looked confused by the snap in his voice, but he wasn’t about to explain that he was angry with himself for wanting to pull her back inside and fuck her against the door.
He was always in control—of himself and usually those around him. Alisha had somehow turned that all around. Turned him around. He could barely recognize himself when he was around her.
If the look in her eyes earlier was anything to go by, he was reasonably certain her no would turn to a moan of yes if he kissed her. She was as hot for him as he was for her, which only made it harder to keep his hands off her.
So why not do it?
Do her.
One time.
Or two. Maybe three.
And then we’d both be able to think straight again.
But then what?
Her promise to Rachelle is important to her, and her loyalty is part of her beauty.
Do I really want to take that from her?
“Good night.” His finality might work in business situations, but instead of leaving, Alisha stepped closer.
She cocked her head to one side and asked, “Are you angry with me? Did I say something wrong?” How could she think that?
He took a deep, fortifying breath. She’s only asking because I’m acting like an utter ass. “No. Tonight was great.” Just great. “See you tomorrow.”
“Sure.”
After watching her walk to her room and let herself in, he closed the door with more force than he’d meant to. He spent a while looking at the connecting door on the inside wall. What would he do if she knocked?
I’d let her in.
That was a stupid question.
She didn’t knock, so he made his way up the stairs to his bedroom, shed his clothes, and took a very cold shower.
Chapter Seventeen
The first thing Alisha saw when she entered her room was the small gift box on the middle of her bed. She sat down and picked it up. It was the jewelry box she’d refused at dinner. Its presence confused her as much as the night had. He’d spent the first part of the evening convincing her that they should spend time together, then practically tossed her out of his suite.
Was it because she’d offended him by talking about his family as if they were strangers to him? In a way they were.
No. His response had been tender and sincere. “You did what you had to do to survive. Forgive the child you were. She was an innocent in a situation she did nothing to create.” So was he, to some extent. Just a different but equally tragic one.
So, why the gift? Had he left it before he realized she wouldn’t sleep with him? Was it supposed to be a high-priced thanks-for-the-romp gift? Something impersonal he ordered in bulk and gave to all his hookups?
I’ll never know if I don’t open it.
She hesitated. I can’t keep it, but I can’t send it back without knowing what it is.
She lifted the cover off. “Aww.” It was a simple blue lanyard for her room key that was engraved with her initials. Not expensive but incredibly thoughtful—and perfect. She hadn’t realized that it was necessary to have her room key with her at all times because it served as an ID and was used to purchase items on the ship. Most people bought simple plastic card holders. After hearing Brett describe a cruise as a way of being moved around like cattle, she doubted he’d been on one before. How would he know that she’d need a lanyard?
She hunted down her phone, signed up for the onboard Internet package, and sent him a text. I love it. Thank you.
He didn’t answer right away, so she put her phone down and went to change into her pajamas. After brushing her teeth and attempting to read a book, she gave up and flopped back onto her bed. How would sleep be possible when all that separated her from Brett was one door?
And my promise to Rachelle.
Her phone finally pinged with an incoming message. I hoped you would.
It’s perfect. How did you know I’d need one
?
I read a blog about cruises after you told me you were going on one.
Alisha was so touched by the idea of him researching what she would need that she didn’t know how to respond.
Up for a run in the morning? he asked.
She picked up the lanyard. There was nothing impersonal about his gift. He might not be a man who intended to stick around, but that didn’t make being with him feel any less wonderful. Yes.
Eight o’clock.
I’ll be ready.
Alisha lay in bed for a long time thinking about Rachelle and the request she’d made. Was it fair? No. Could she understand how Rachelle might feel that her dating Brett could make a bad situation even worse?
Yes. Unfortunately, she could.
She eventually fell into a restless sleep. The next morning she woke, freshened up, gathered her hair up in a ponytail, donned a T-shirt and shorts, and was tying the shoelaces on her running shoes when a knock came at the door. Before opening it, she told herself she had done nothing wrong. She’d been honest with Rachelle. Honest with Brett. She hadn’t invited him on the cruise, but he was there. What was she supposed to do? Ignore him?
She opened the door. If possible, Brett looked even better than he had the night before. His running shorts accentuated his muscular thighs and his T-shirt complemented the broad shoulders and flat stomach he’d jokingly boasted about the night before. There wasn’t an inch of him that wasn’t deliciously fit.
His eyes looked a little tired. She fantasized that sleeping with only a door separating them had been just as difficult for him as it had been for her.
