Gunther tugged on her arm.
“I
thought you wanted to be alone,” she said, her head bent.
He
raised her chin, a look of concern on his face. “Waterworks?” She was silent,
not knowing what to say. He ripped the bedspread down and let it fall to the
floor before he folded her into his embrace.
“I
don’t know what to think, Gunther. I don’t sleep with guys randomly.”
“Oh,
doe-eyes. It’s okay. Of course I want you to stay.” He led her back to the bed
and pulled down the comforter.
“Aren’t
you coming?” She chewed her lip at the plaintive sound of her question.
“In
a bit. I’ve got to check a couple of emails first.”
* * * *
Gunther
retreated to the living room. His habit of burying his emotions in his work
kicked in. Don’t think about her, the
expression on her face. Is she in love with me? Oh, God.
Shoving
his conflicted thoughts out of his mind, he sat down at the computer. As soon
as the screen appeared, his focus returned. Gunther was all business.
He
opened his messages. “Damn! Someone forgot to get the permits? Fire the
bastard.” He scrolled down one by one to the next four. “Wardrobe ripped, lighting
problems, props go missing. Nothing but problems.” The image of the beautiful
woman in the next room nagged at him. He closed his document, unable to avoid
the biggest of question all—Erica Wheeler.
Gunther
pushed to his feet and went to the window. Running his hand through his hair,
he tried to sort out his feelings. He stared at the lights that lit up the city,
as if they could tell him what to do. Why
didn’t I have more self-control? I should never have slept with her. Damn. What
do I do now? He began to pace. I’m
not falling in love with her. I refuse!
He
searched his mind for reasons to put distance between them, but all he came up
with were memories of the softness of her skin, the way she looked up into his
eyes, and her moans as he made love to her. That’s
right. Made love. Not screwed. Damn, she was amazing.
He
didn’t want to face her emotions either. One glance at her kisser after he
climaxed, and he knew she was head over heels for him. He recognized that look.
It was the same look Laurel had worn the first time he had made love to her. And I wasn’t even any good back then. He
chuckled to himself about the progress of his sexual expertise. Shit! What am I going to do? She’ll expect
marriage, and I don’t do that. I can’t.
He
hated the pull she had on him, but he couldn’t walk away. Not now, not yet. She
was a real partner in his business. She cared for him and showed it in ways
he’d never seen before. She’s smart. The
company is going to happen, and I need her. He began to pace.
I want her. Want her in my company,
want her in my bed. This new sensation scared him. He’d
never wanted to share his business with anyone. Never cared to take a partner,
until now. When the idea to team up with Max Webster came to him, he had been overjoyed.
It would be brilliant. They’d lock up the best of Broadway for the movies and
the best movies for Broadway.
But
he couldn’t do it alone. Max had a couple of producers working for him as well
as an assistant. Gunther had hired producers freelance when he needed them,
never trusting enough to bring anyone in to work with him. He was afraid they’d
steal his ideas.
But
now he had Erica, and she was dynamite. Smart, hardworking, and totally devoted
to him. He hadn’t intended to trust her, it just happened. Now she was
essential in ways Elsa Marquette never could be. He had been ready to marry
Elsa. Elsa was business, Erica would be
love. I don’t do love. I can’t. What if something happens to her, like Laurel?
What if she leaves me? I couldn’t handle it. I can’t go through that again.
But
he wasn’t at ease with his decision. Why
am I even considering marriage? She’s lied to me. Her father is a violent nutcase.
I probably can’t trust her. For the first time in his life, he
“I
thought you wanted to be alone,” she said, her head bent.
He
raised her chin, a look of concern on his face. “Waterworks?” She was silent,
not knowing what to say. He ripped the bedspread down and let it fall to the
floor before he folded her into his embrace.
“I
don’t know what to think, Gunther. I don’t sleep with guys randomly.”
“Oh,
doe-eyes. It’s okay. Of course I want you to stay.” He led her back to the bed
and pulled down the comforter.
“Aren’t
you coming?” She chewed her lip at the plaintive sound of her question.
“In
a bit. I’ve got to check a couple of emails first.”
* * * *
Gunther
retreated to the living room. His habit of burying his emotions in his work
kicked in. Don’t think about her, the
expression on her face. Is she in love with me? Oh, God.
Shoving
his conflicted thoughts out of his mind, he sat down at the computer. As soon
as the screen appeared, his focus returned. Gunther was all business.
He
opened his messages. “Damn! Someone forgot to get the permits? Fire the
bastard.” He scrolled down one by one to the next four. “Wardrobe ripped, lighting
problems, props go missing. Nothing but problems.” The image of the beautiful
woman in the next room nagged at him. He closed his document, unable to avoid
the biggest of question all—Erica Wheeler.
Gunther
pushed to his feet and went to the window. Running his hand through his hair,
he tried to sort out his feelings. He stared at the lights that lit up the city,
as if they could tell him what to do. Why
didn’t I have more self-control? I should never have slept with her. Damn. What
do I do now? He began to pace. I’m
not falling in love with her. I refuse!
He
searched his mind for reasons to put distance between them, but all he came up
with were memories of the softness of her skin, the way she looked up into his
eyes, and her moans as he made love to her. That’s
right. Made love. Not screwed. Damn, she was amazing.
He
didn’t want to face her emotions either. One glance at her kisser after he
climaxed, and he knew she was head over heels for him. He recognized that look.
It was the same look Laurel had worn the first time he had made love to her. And I wasn’t even any good back then. He
chuckled to himself about the progress of his sexual expertise. Shit! What am I going to do? She’ll expect
marriage, and I don’t do that. I can’t.
He
hated the pull she had on him, but he couldn’t walk away. Not now, not yet. She
was a real partner in his business. She cared for him and showed it in ways
he’d never seen before. She’s smart. The
company is going to happen, and I need her. He began to pace.
I want her. Want her in my company,
want her in my bed. This new sensation scared him. He’d
never wanted to share his business with anyone. Never cared to take a partner,
until now. When the idea to team up with Max Webster came to him, he had been overjoyed.
It would be brilliant. They’d lock up the best of Broadway for the movies and
the best movies for Broadway.
But
he couldn’t do it alone. Max had a couple of producers working for him as well
as an assistant. Gunther had hired producers freelance when he needed them,
never trusting enough to bring anyone in to work with him. He was afraid they’d
steal his ideas.
But
now he had Erica, and she was dynamite. Smart, hardworking, and totally devoted
to him. He hadn’t intended to trust her, it just happened. Now she was
essential in ways Elsa Marquette never could be. He had been ready to marry
Elsa. Elsa was business, Erica would be
love. I don’t do love. I can’t. What if something happens to her, like Laurel?
What if she leaves me? I couldn’t handle it. I can’t go through that again.
But
he wasn’t at ease with his decision. Why
am I even considering marriage? She’s lied to me. Her father is a violent nutcase.
I probably can’t trust her. For the first time in his life, he
Similar Books
