I found him in his home office. He stood with his back to the door and
a Bluetooth receiver in his ear. His arms were crossed and he was staring
out the windows of his Fifth Avenue penthouse apartment, giving the
impression of a very solitary man, an individual who was separate from the
world around him, yet entirely capable of ruling it.
Leaning into the doorjamb, I drank him in. I was certain my view of
the skyline was more awe-inspiring than his. My vantage point included
him superimposed over those towering skyscrapers, an equally powerful
and impressive presence. He’d finished his shower before I managed to
crawl out of bed. His seriously addictive body was now dressed in two
pieces of an expensively tailored three-piece suit—an admitted hot button
of mine. The rear view of him showcased a perfect ass and a powerful back
encased in a vest.
On the wall was a massive collage of photos of us as a couple and one
very intimate one that he’d taken of me while I was sleeping. Most were
pictures taken by the paparazzi who followed his every move. He was
Gideon Cross, of Cross Industries, and at the ridiculous age of twenty-eight,
he was one of the top twenty-five richest people in the world. I was pretty
sure he owned a significant chunk of Manhattan; I was positive he was the
hottest man on the planet. And he kept photos of me everywhere he worked,
as if I could possibly be as fun to look at as he was.
He turned, pivoting gracefully to catch me with his icy blue gaze. Of
course he’d known I was there, watching him. There was a crackling in the
air when we were near each other, a sense of anticipation like the coiled
silence before the boom of thunder. He’d probably deliberately waited a
beat before facing me, giving me the opportunity to check him out because
he knew I loved to look at him.
Dark and Dangerous. And all mine.
God . . . I never got used to the impact of that face. Those sculpted
cheekbones and dark winged brows, the thickly lashed blue eyes, and those
lips... perfectly etched to be both sensual and wicked. I loved when they
smiled with sexual invitation, and I shivered when they thinned into a stern
line. And when he pressed those lips to my body, I burned for him.
