His scent...it’s so masculine and musky.His brows dip, nostrils flare, and I’m so startled I gasp and wobble on my heels.
Drew grabs my upper arms, steadying me.
“Gemma,” he rasps.
“Sorry.”I swallow.“I have a headache.I...um, too much coffee.”
His hands fall away reluctantly.
Without looking him in the eye a second longer, I gather my things, shoving them into my bag.
Aware that he hasn’t moved, except to slide his hands into his pockets—which I note with my peripheral vision—I start muttering my farewell.
“See you tonight.Seven, right.That’s fine, I’ll feed Zoe.Get mom to stay over or something.Black tie.Good.Okay.Well, yup, good.”
“Gemma,” Drew says when I reach the door.
Damn it, now I have to look at him.
I turn.
“Breathe.And wear black.”His voice is low, rough and incredibly arousing.
Breathing is optional at this point, I’m afraid.
I nod.
Scorching desire swirls inside his steel-blue globes as my instincts scream at me to run for my life.
I don’t want to.
I want him to spread me open and do all the bad things a man like him does to a woman.I want him to stop my mind from working overtime, trying to figure everything out.I want him to remind me I’m a beautiful, sexy woman.
The problem is Drew Carrington would destroy me if I let him do any of that.Just as he might do to the Ford legacy.
My job is to survive this.
Survive him.
For Zoe.