seriously enough to dedicate mostâif notallâof your time to it. That, she told herself every day, was the true sign of success. The success of Bennett Industries was definitely a priority to Alex. He also didnât go out of his way to impress her; that was probably the biggest mark in his favor.
Just because she hadnât been in the mood for sex in a long while, didnât mean Monica had no clue about the men that were interested in her. Sheâd been approached more times than she could count, but theyâd all tried too hard to impress either with their money or their status, neither of which she needed or wanted.
Tired of reminiscing and thinking she pulled on her robe and left the bedroom sheâd played Twister so valiantly for. The other rooms of the cabin were dim, but she could still hear the low crackling of the fire in the living room. She did not turn in that direction; instead, she moved into the kitchen to find something to eat or drink that would help her sleep.
âSleepwalking?â
She jumped, holding a hand to her now-thumping heart. Alex was standing in the doorway that led from the kitchen to what she now referred to as the den, where the television was located. Trying to act as if it was no big deal that he was there, watching her sneak into the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator.
âGetting something to drink if you donât mind.â
âI donât,â he said and sounded closer. Too close.
She surveyed every item in the refrigerator, not wanting any of them.
âSee what you want?â
She looked up to see his face over the refrigerator door.
âNot yet. And you donât have to watch every moveI make. Iâm perfectly capable of getting something to drink and going back to sleep.â
She stood and slammed the refrigerator door.
âYou canât go back to sleep if you werenât asleep in the first place.â
How had he known? It didnât matterâthe fact that he always acted as if he knew every damn thing that ran through her mind was quickly becoming the biggest mark in her âdislikeâ column for him.
âIâm going back to bed.â
With a gentle hand he grasped her elbow and she stopped. âItâs okay to admit you canât sleep, Monica. It doesnât make you weak.â
Her back was to him so he couldnât possibly see the truth in her eyes, but he knew, no matter how, he just knew.
She sighed.
âItâs no big deal.â
âDoes it happen often? Or is it just because youâre in a strange bed?â
âI think itâs the bed.â
He was quiet. She knew he didnât believe her.
âWould you like some company?â
âNo!â She spun around to face him as she spoke. âLook, I donât know what crazy ideas you may have going on in your head. Just because we shared a couple of kisses does not mean Iâm ready to hop into bed with you. Maybe you take sex lightly, but I donât. And Iâm not sleeping with a man I hardly know!â
He didnât speak, but she heard him moving and wondered if he was once again leaving her standing alone. But the light came on and she saw him as he walked toward her. He wore only black boxer briefs that clung to the tops of his thighs andâ¦his other partslike a second skin. His chest, as well as the rest of his sun-kissed body, was bare. Every inch of him was all male, hard contours, ridges and planes finely sculpted and well tuned. A feast for the eyes was the very least she could say to describe him. But Monica decided not speaking might be better. She tried to swallow instead, though even that was going to be a task.
âYou know my name and where I work. If youâd like to know more all you have to do is say the word,â he said as he came to stand in front of her. Then, cupping her chin and tilting her head upward so she was looking right into his eyes, he continued, âBut