into Brandon and his heart began to pound uncontrollably. Quickly scanning the room for doors, he picked the nearest one to right. He locked the door then left Alexa propped up against the back of the door and speedily made his way around the room to shut the drapes on the large windows that looked out on the balcony.
Once he closed the last set of thick drapes, he turned around to face her, his eyes hot and piercing. “I need to talk to you Alexa. Just you and me. Alone.”
Startled, looking like a prisoner after the bars had slammed shut, Alexa turned for the door, but Brandon beat her to it.
Blocking the lock with his body, he said, “You can’t escape, Alexa. Not this time.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Alexa’s heart was beating a million miles a minute. She felt a little foolish about her mad leap for the door, but she had to do something, didn’t she? After all, when a guy locked you into a room with him and closed all of the drapes, he was bound to have something nefarious in mind.
She tried to recall the articles she’d proofed in ROAR about the best way to defend herself in case of an attack, but the chardonnay was messing with her synapses in a big way. Instead of conjuring up kung-fu moves, she was thinking about giving Brandon’s lips another taste test. All through dinner she had thought about kissing him. So she kept drinking more and more wine to try and erase the potent memory of their embrace.
Her tactic had backfired. All the wine succeeded in doing was making her more languid.
Ready for his touch. Putty in his hands. If she were foolish enough to let him touch her, that is.
Which she wasn’t. Although, as the night progressed it was getting more and more difficult to remind herself why she didn’t want Brandon to touch her. He was friendly, fun and gorgeous.
It’s just an act, she told herself firmly. What kind of man signs a contract to find a wife on national TV?
Brandon was pressed up against the door like a one-man army, bound and determined to stave off a military attack from the dance floor outside. Although, come to think of it, being followed around by TV cameras all the time did feel a little bit like being under siege.
Evidently he wanted to talk to her in private. Fine. She’d give him some time alone.
Who knew, maybe she’d be able to dish up something good for her article.
Turning away from him, she walked over to the plush velvet couch in front of the fireplace and sat down. “You can step away from the door now. I won’t try to escape again.”
Brandon looked discomfited by her words, as if he had just realized how ridiculous he looked. As he moved to join her on the couch, Alexa felt like she was being stalked by a large, hungry lion.
Alexa refused to flinch or, worse, let on that just being in the same room with him made her insides feel all funny. She wanted to blame it on the wine, but she’d been drunk before and it was obvious to her that what she felt with Brandon was worlds apart from intoxication.
Brandon sat down on the purple velvet ottoman in front of Alexa. “I went a little bit overboard just now, didn’t I?”
Alexa raised an eyebrow. “A little?”
Brandon grimaced. “Could I blame it on the wine?”
A giggle popped out before Alexa could stop it. What was wrong with her? She didn’t giggle! Intent on ignoring how much anticipation she was feeling, she conjured up her best no-nonsense voice. “So, why’d you lock us in here together?”
Brandon ran his right hand through his hair, ruffling up his dirty blonde locks. Alexa’s fingers itched to follow suit. She clasped them into a tight ball on her lap and waited for him to explain his strange behavior.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, and then finally opened them again.
“Alexa, I was hoping this would be easier, but now that we’re finally alone, I have no idea how to tell you...” His stopped mid-sentence and rubbed his eyes.
Brandon began to pace back and forth.
Once he closed the last set of thick drapes, he turned around to face her, his eyes hot and piercing. “I need to talk to you Alexa. Just you and me. Alone.”
Startled, looking like a prisoner after the bars had slammed shut, Alexa turned for the door, but Brandon beat her to it.
Blocking the lock with his body, he said, “You can’t escape, Alexa. Not this time.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Alexa’s heart was beating a million miles a minute. She felt a little foolish about her mad leap for the door, but she had to do something, didn’t she? After all, when a guy locked you into a room with him and closed all of the drapes, he was bound to have something nefarious in mind.
She tried to recall the articles she’d proofed in ROAR about the best way to defend herself in case of an attack, but the chardonnay was messing with her synapses in a big way. Instead of conjuring up kung-fu moves, she was thinking about giving Brandon’s lips another taste test. All through dinner she had thought about kissing him. So she kept drinking more and more wine to try and erase the potent memory of their embrace.
Her tactic had backfired. All the wine succeeded in doing was making her more languid.
Ready for his touch. Putty in his hands. If she were foolish enough to let him touch her, that is.
Which she wasn’t. Although, as the night progressed it was getting more and more difficult to remind herself why she didn’t want Brandon to touch her. He was friendly, fun and gorgeous.
It’s just an act, she told herself firmly. What kind of man signs a contract to find a wife on national TV?
Brandon was pressed up against the door like a one-man army, bound and determined to stave off a military attack from the dance floor outside. Although, come to think of it, being followed around by TV cameras all the time did feel a little bit like being under siege.
Evidently he wanted to talk to her in private. Fine. She’d give him some time alone.
Who knew, maybe she’d be able to dish up something good for her article.
Turning away from him, she walked over to the plush velvet couch in front of the fireplace and sat down. “You can step away from the door now. I won’t try to escape again.”
Brandon looked discomfited by her words, as if he had just realized how ridiculous he looked. As he moved to join her on the couch, Alexa felt like she was being stalked by a large, hungry lion.
Alexa refused to flinch or, worse, let on that just being in the same room with him made her insides feel all funny. She wanted to blame it on the wine, but she’d been drunk before and it was obvious to her that what she felt with Brandon was worlds apart from intoxication.
Brandon sat down on the purple velvet ottoman in front of Alexa. “I went a little bit overboard just now, didn’t I?”
Alexa raised an eyebrow. “A little?”
Brandon grimaced. “Could I blame it on the wine?”
A giggle popped out before Alexa could stop it. What was wrong with her? She didn’t giggle! Intent on ignoring how much anticipation she was feeling, she conjured up her best no-nonsense voice. “So, why’d you lock us in here together?”
Brandon ran his right hand through his hair, ruffling up his dirty blonde locks. Alexa’s fingers itched to follow suit. She clasped them into a tight ball on her lap and waited for him to explain his strange behavior.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, and then finally opened them again.
“Alexa, I was hoping this would be easier, but now that we’re finally alone, I have no idea how to tell you...” His stopped mid-sentence and rubbed his eyes.
Brandon began to pace back and forth.
Similar Books
