Page 32 of Pursuing Desire

“The wedding? Oh, yes, of course. We should plan a trip there before the wedding, for sure. I know my parents would love to meet you in person. You know, since I talk about you so often.”

“Do you?” Dax asks.

“Do I what?”

“Talk about me often?” Dax clarifies.

“Oh, um, yes, all the time. Can’t shut up . . . about you,” I stammer. Hopefully, the camera doesn’t see the glare I shoot his way.

“I’d love to hear what you say about me. Did you tell them I’m irresistibly handsome? A paragon of a man with endless charm? That your heart goes pitter-patter every time I’m near?”

“Absolutely. That’s exactly what I say about you. I also talked about how you’re not at all egotistical, self-absorbed, or full of yourself,” I say sweetly. “And that you’re shy and keep all your obnoxious opinions to yourself.”

Dax surprises me by letting out a loud bark of laughter. A few patrons from the tables near us turn their heads in curiosity. A stab of annoyance pierces me when I notice the too-interested look coming from a woman at the table nearest us. She’s licking her lips like she’s ready to have Dax for dessert.

Dax cocks his head to the side and studies me, laughter still hovering on his lips. “You know, Jess. I have always enjoyed these stimulating conversations with you. You never seem to bore me, that’s for sure.”

“And neither of you bore me,” says a familiar female voice coming up behind me. “It’s easy to see the chemistry between you two.”

Dax scoots his chair back and rises in greeting. “Hi, Taylor. You’re so quiet we didn’t know you’d come in. Here, have my seat. I can ask for another chair to be brought over.”

Taylor puts her hand up. “No, please, keep your seat. Thank you, but I’m not staying. I was going to stay and film, but I figure you two could use some time alone. I just came over to give you a heads-up and let you know that we just now set up a camera in your suite. With all the lovey-dovey action in the ocean earlier, I didn’t have time to get it set up before.”

“You’re going to be watching us in the suite?” I ask, trying to control the shock in my voice. We knew it was a possibility, but I didn’t actually think the show would do something so intrusive. The room was supposed to be our safe space from all of this craziness.

Taylor holds up her hands in surrender, or to ward off an attack. I’m not sure which, and she probably isn’t either. “I know, I know. But it’s just the main area. It’s on a motion sensor and will only be recording video and sound when you’re in that specific room. You’ll have complete privacy in the bedroom. You know, where it counts. We can’t see or hear a single thing that goes on in there.” She winks and then walks off, her bag bouncing against her hip.

I’m glaring at her back as she retreats, wishing I could throw something at her. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice that Dax is still standing. He holds out his hand to me. “Well, sweetheart, we might as well get back to the room. Our fans await.”

I stand up and ignore his hand as I start heading toward the exit. As I pass him, I pause and hiss in his ear, “I’m not planning to give them any show. I’m going right to the bedroom and closing the door.”

He follows closely behind me as I make a quick exit and head for the elevators. Once inside, I punch the button to our floor with as much malice as I can muster in my finger. Dax takes the hint and doesn’t try to engage in conversation with me as we make our way up and to our room.

The silence continues all the way into the suite and then into the bedroom, where I close the door with a loud click.

Dax looks at the clock on the bedside table. “Are we really going to bed this early? We could change into more comfortable clothes and go for a stroll on the beach?”

“A romantic, moonlit stroll on the beach with New York’s most eligible bachelor? I’ll pass, but thanks for the offer,” I say with plenty of sarcasm.

Dax rolls his eyes at me. “You know, I do have some self-control. I won’t maul you on the beach.”

“Like you did earlier?”

“Fair point.”

“Forget your stroll on the beach. We need to talk about the sleeping arrangements. I get the bed tonight,” I tell him. I don’t leave any room in my voice for argument. As far as I’m concerned, he’ll be on the couch for the rest of this trip.

“What a coincidence. I’m also getting the bed tonight,” he says.

I put my hands on my hips and lean forward with a frown on my face. “I claimed the bed first. You can sleep on the couch. It looks comfortable enough.”

“You know I can’t sleep out there. It’ll look fishy if I’m not sleeping with my fiancée.”

“Then sleep on the floor! Or in the bathtub. I don’t care. Just not in the bed.”

“Me? On the floor. That’s not happening, babe. You know what kind of nasty funk lives on these carpets?”

“Don’t call me babe,” I fire back.