Saving the CEO (49th Floor #1)(38)

“Touché.” It was all he could say. Unless he wanted to admit she was the first woman he’d ever let into his bed, much less allowed to spend the night. “Will you just shut up and come to bed?”

She gave up resisting, and he settled her under the covers. Turning out the light, he reached for a remote control on the bedside table and aimed it at the skylight. A shade began to retract.

“Can we leave it open?” she asked.

He lifted his thumb from the button.

“I know it’s stupid,” she said from underneath the duvet. “We’re in the middle of the city, and it’s overcast. But I love this skylight. I like the idea that the stars are just up there, even if you can’t see them.”

He hit another button, reversing the shade’s progress to expose the full expanse of glass. He couldn’t give her anything close to what she deserved. In fact, he could only give her one more night after this. So he could at least let her sleep under the invisible stars.





Chapter Eleven


Cassie awoke warm and cozy under Jack’s duvet. When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was the white winter sky through the skylight. It looked like snow. She stretched. “Mmmmm.” She sounded like a cat. She felt like a cat. Scooching over—Jack’s bed was enormous—she wondered what they would do this morning. The slideshow of possibilities that flipped through her head brought a grin to her face. Who knew last night’s epic marathon could leave her still wanting more? She fanned her arms out under the mound of covers, intending to wake him, but her fingers glided over nothing but cold sheets.

She was alone in the bed. Well, that was…surprisingly disappointing. But it was a work day. Popping her head out of the cocoon of down, she made out of the sound of the shower.

“Hey,” she called as she walked through the open bathroom door. He stepped out of the shower stall with a towel wrapped around his waist. “Oh, hi!” she said again, startled and unaccountably embarrassed, given all that had transpired the last couple of nights. It was just that he looked like some kind of Nordic sea god, all chiseled angles and wet blond hair slicked down his head. She could still hardly believe she was sleeping with someone like him.

“Hey,” he said, stepping around her to get to the sink. He didn’t look at her as he said, “Sorry to wake you. Last day of work today—the office always closes after the Christmas party until after New Year’s, so I’ve got tons to do.”

“Right, of course.” She spun around and headed back out to the bedroom in search of clothes, swallowing the little lump of worry that had lodged in her throat.

“Shower, though, hang out as long as you like,” he called after her, his voice flat, like he was reciting lines in a play.

“That’s okay,” she said, locating and pulling on her jeans. What had she expected? To wake up in his arms to the swell of violins? To find him looking at her with stars in his eyes? No, she wasn’t that stupid. But maybe she’d expected the generous lover who’d plied her with snacks and insisted she stay the night to be a little…warmer the morning after.

“Seriously,” he said, emerging from the bathroom, attention on his phone as he texted furiously. “Take your time.” He disappeared into the walk-in closet. “I’ve got a shitload of work to do today.”

Right. Okay. She might not have tons of dating experience, but she knew a blow off when she saw one. And she wasn’t about to cool her heels after he bolted. She was starting to feel dirty—and not in a good way. “I’ve got stuff to do, too,” she said, hoping her voice sounded normal. “So thanks, but I’ve got to go back to my place.”

He emerged from the closet dressed for the office. The slim-fitting gray wool suit fit him like a glove, and the hot pink plaid tie made her smile in spite of herself. Again, it seemed like he was avoiding her eyes as he adjusted his cuff links. “Okay, tell you what. I’ll leave a key on the counter downstairs. Lock up when you leave and then shove it back through the mail slot.”

He wasn’t even going to wait for her to get dressed? What the hell? “Okay,” she managed, shooting him a fake smile—but he’d already turned away and was rifling through his briefcase. Apparently he wasn’t even going to look at her once this morning. How could everything have changed like this? Last night they had mind-blowing sex and slept in each other’s arms, and now they were strangers? Or maybe this was just normal for him. Maybe she was the one overreacting. It’s not like he owed her anything. She headed for the bathroom, calling, “Have a great day!” over her shoulder. No need for him to know that he’d upset her. After all, it wasn’t like they were having a relationship.

…

It wasn’t until three o’clock, when she was rummaging through her purse looking for her work ID, that Cassie realized she still had Jack’s key.

Crap. She’d hidden in his bathroom until she heard him leave. He’d been talking on the phone—to someone he was less angry at than last time she’d overheard his end of a business call. But she had heard him say, “That is not acceptable,” in a voice that would have made her wilt like a daisy in the desert. His voice had grown quieter as he moved farther away from her in the house, and then she’d heard the front door close behind him.