As soon as she was close enough, he laced her tiny hand in his and tugged her with him. So many times, he had told himself to stop with the touching and hand holding he had started, but he couldn’t. It was essential, like breathing and came so naturally with her now that it would be futile. He had started it to get her used to him, long ago when he had first taken her to meet Hunter, he hadn’t liked the flinch at his touch, or the fear in those big baby blues. He had made a conscious decision to get her used to his touch if only to relax her and somehow it just grew to this. Holding hands was something he did constantly, pulling her along, hell, even taking her to business meetings. So many times had he caught strange looks from other receptionists that he was pulling his PA along and he would glare back at them. He knew it wasn’t normal, but Emma just assumed he was this way with everyone. Margo maybe, not so much hands-on but definitely not everyone. Just people he cared about and always her. Holding her hand now felt right, a perfect fit in the palm of his hand, the familiar soft touch that made him want more from her.
“Here, Emma.” He could see her shielding her eyes as the noon sun lifted higher in the sky, so he handed his shades back to her, with her eye color she needed them more than him. He practically spent half his life in the sun and had never really felt any effects from sun glare. Letting her go, he moved along to pick up some pebbles, the sun warming his already brown skin.
“Thanks.” She smiled his way as he bent down and expertly skimmed his pebbles across the soft, lapping waves. Looking her way for a moment to gaze on how much more relaxed she seemed away from the others on the boat. Once again, he wished they had come here alone. He wanted nothing more right now.
“What is it?” She tilted her head questioningly at him.
“You seem a bit more relaxed now we’re over here.” He could definitely see it.
“I feel more relaxed.” She sighed and began looking around her feet, pushing the sand with her tiny toes, and looking a bit too squeezable. He took a slow breath and continued skimming stones to distract himself.
“You look it.” He skimmed another stone like an expert and was unable to stop the goofy smile hitting his face at watching her.
“I’m glad you made me come.” She was watching him more closely now, giving nothing away in that face. Like always.
“I’m glad I didn’t have to force you.” He grinned, knowing that forcing Emma was never that easy, she had a stubborn streak and was one of the few women he had ever met who stood up to him defiantly. Even when he was being an arsey dickhead. He loved that about her.
“Technically, you gave me no choice.” She pouted sassily at him, that tiny little spark that was always beneath the surface. He would love to see her fully let go of it and just turn into a tornado like Leila could. He got the sense she was more than capable but her reserved nature kept it locked down. He wanted to see her release that passion a little. Okay, maybe not to Leila’s extent but some of it, anyway. He often wondered if she did it deliberately, kept herself calm and even so she would never lose control.
“You always have a choice with me, Emma, you know that.” He looked her way once more, feeling relaxed too, wanting to memorize her standing that way, hands on hips and a body to die for. He shook that mental thought away, knowing that if he stuck with it, his mind would find the shortest route to the gutter again. Being around her minus a whole lot of clothing was trying to say the least, and his libido was starting to fight back.
“We should be getting back; the others will think we don’t like them.” He tensed and flexed his body, catching a quick glance of her eyes as he did so, and it immediately caught his attention. Definitely no fear that time or any sense of discomfort. That had most definitely been an eye wander of the appreciative female variety—maybe she wasn’t as immune as he thought? He would love to explore that possibility. About time his assets were winning her over, he knew he was built and had enough sex appeal. Hell, he knew he was a good-looking bastard, women had made that obvious his whole life.
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