Page 7 of Price of Paradise

She crossed her arms over her chest and began tapping her sandaled foot. “No, with you, I mean. Are you sick? Is that it?”

His brows lifted. “Sick?”

Gunner was the healthiest man she knew. A giant,healthy, muscular, brilliant man who rarely even got a cold. Still, no one was indestructible. Not even the great Gunner Price. Mae swallowed back a lump of emotion clogging her throat. “Are you dying or something?”

“I’m not sick.” His gaze widened. “Geez, why would you think I’m dying?”

Not cancer, thank God. “Okay, good. That’s good. Did you get bad news about your father’s estate?”

“No,” he answered, glancing around the room. “Jake assures me everything is on track there.”

“Hello, Gunner!” She snapped her fingers in his face, gaining his attention. “I’m running out of guesses, and patience.”

His steely-blue eyes turned cold. “Do you like Jake?”

Where had that come from?“How is that any of your business?” she shot right back. “You’re my boss, my friend, but certainly not my keeper.”

“That’s not an answer,” he said, the deep baritone of his voice too calm.

She’d heard that tone when he’d come up against one of his competitors. It always meant he was about to go for the throat. “You didn’t travel all the way here to grill me about my dating life.”

“He’s not the type to settle down,” Gunner went on, as if he hadn’t heard a word she said. “I love my brother, but getting mixed up with him would be a mistake, Mae.”

“Oh, my God, this is insane,” she shouted, then swiveled around and paced the room. If she didn’t put a little distance between them she’d lose her temper and clobber him. Surely that wouldn’t be good for her job. Oh, it would feel good, sure, but then rent wouldn’t get paid. She’d be homeless. Spontaneity was terrific unless it meant losing your only source of income.

After a few deep breaths, Mae turned and faced Gunner again. “I have no plans to date Jake. He’s sweet, but not mytype.” She quirked a brow. “Happy now?”

“Not really,” he groused, moving across the room like a stalking panther. “Know whatwouldmake me happy?”

His nearness sent tingles of awareness along her nerve endings. “What?”

“Kissing you,” he admitted, hands fisted at his sides. “Have you ever thought about me? About us?”

Her brain was misfiring because she could’ve sworn he’d confessed to wanting to kiss her. Which was ludicrous. Insane. Ridiculous on gargantuan levels. “W-What?”

“You and me, Mae,” he reiterated. “As more than work associates. More than boss and assistant.”

“Yes!”her libido shouted like a puppy with a bone. “I…I don’t know how to answer that, Gunner.”

“With the truth,” he quietly demanded. “That’s all I want.”

Hell with it. For the first time in her life, Mae took a giant leap straight into oblivion. “Yes. I’ve thought about it. About you.”

“Good,” he growled, cupping her cheek in his rough palm.

She flung her hands out to her sides. “Why is that good? You’re my boss.”

“Who gives a fuck,” he muttered. “I came here, to you, to Miami because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About this…”

His mouth swooped down and took hers in a wild show of possession. Mae’s temperature shot right into the red zone, and her blood began to race. Without conscious thought, her arms wound around his neck, tugging him closer. He groaned against her lips and ran his tongue along the seam. Unable to resist temptation, Mae parted, encouraged by his rumbling growl of approval. As he dipped inside, Mae tasted the uniquely spicy flavor of Gunner Price.

And she went down like the friggin’ Titanic.

Chapter Three

Gunner wrapped one arm around her back and the other behind her knees, lifting her easily into his powerful arms. The rippling of muscles beneath his white dress shirt devastated Mae’s senses.

He broke the kiss and stared down at her. The feral look in his eyes shocked her. “Do you want this, Mae? Do you want me?”

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