Beautiful Bastard

said, his hand sliding along the hood. “Remind me to think about giving you a raise.”
    I felt the familiar desire to punch him spread through my body and it calmed me. Everything was so much clearer when he was being an outright douche.
    Pressing the button to release the trunk I gave him a reproachful look and stepped aside for him to put his things away. He took off his jacket and handed it to me. I shoved it into the trunk.
    “Careful,” he admonished.
    “I’m not a bellhop. Put your own damn coat away.”
    He laughed and bent to lift his suitcase. “Christ, I’d just wanted you to hold it for a moment.”
    “Oh.” With cheeks flushed at my overreaction, I reached in and grabbed the coat, smoothing it over my arm. “Sorry.”
    “Why do you always assume I’m being a jerk?”
    “Because you usually are?”
    With another laugh, he hoisted the suitcase into the trunk. “You must have missed me a lot.”
    I started to answer but got distracted instead watching the muscles of his back tighten his shirt as he placed his luggage in the trunk next to mine. Up close, I saw that the dress shirt had a subtle gray print and was tailored to fit his broad shoulders and narrow waist without any extra fabric bunching anywhere. His pants were dark gray and crisply pressed. I was pretty sure he’d never done his own laundry—and damn, who would blame him when tailored, dry-cleaned clothes made him so completely fuckable?
    Stop. Stop!
    He closed the trunk with a slam, breaking me out of my daze, and I placed the keys in his waiting hand. He walked over and opened my door, waiting for me to be seated before closing it behind me. Yeah, you’re a real gentleman, I thought.
    We drove in silence, the only sound provided by the purr of the engine and the GPS calling out directions to the hotel. I busied myself going over our schedule, trying to ignore the man next to me.
    I wanted to look at him, to study his face. I wanted to reach out and touch the slight stubble on his jaw, to tell him to pull over and touch me.
    All these thoughts ran through my mind, making it impossible to concentrate on the papers in front of me. The time apart hadn’t lessened his hold over me at all. If anything it made it stronger. I wanted to ask him how the last two weeks had been. I actually wanted to know how he was.
    With a sigh, I closed the folder in my lap and turned to look out the window.
    We must have passed ocean and navy ships and people on the streets, but I didn’t see a thing. The only thing on my mind was what was inside the car. I felt every movement, every breath. His fingers tapped along the steering wheel. The leather squeaked when he shifted in his seat. His scent filled the closed space and made it impossible to remember why I needed to resist. He completely surrounded me.
    I needed to be strong and be my own person, to prove that I controlled my path in life, but every part of me ached to feel him. I needed to regroup at the hotel before this conference, but with him so close, all my best intentions got away from me.
    “Are you okay, Miss Mills?” The sound of his voice startled me and I turned to meet his hazel eyes, my stomach fluttering at the intensity behind them. How had I forgotten how long his lashes were?
    “We’re here.” He motioned to the hotel, and I was surprised to see I hadn’t even noticed. “Is everything all right?”
    “Yeah,” I answered quickly. “Just been a long day.”
    “Hmm,” he murmured, continuing to look at me. I saw his gaze flicker to my mouth, and God, I wanted him to kiss me. I missed the command of his mouth on mine, as if there were nothing in the world he wanted more than to taste me. And sometimes, I suspected that might actually be true.
    As if drawn to him, I leaned forward in my seat. A hum of electricity buzzed between us, and his gaze flickered back to my eyes. He leaned in to meet me, and I could feel his hot breath against my mouth.
    Suddenly my door opened and I jumped back into my seat, shocked to see the valet standing there expectantly, hand outstretched. I stepped out of the car, inhaling the air that wasn’t permeated by his intoxicating scent. The valet took the bags, and Mr. Ryan excused himself to take a phone call while I checked us in.
    The hotel was packed with fellow conference attendees, and I saw several familiar faces. I had made plans to meet up with a group of other students in my program sometime on the trip. I waved to a woman I