Hansol was famous for pampering their employees with an annual retreat at a luxury resort. This year the two-night retreat was being held at Ojai, a small town reminiscent of Provence that improbably flourished in California’s desert climate.
Ojai was one of Natalie’s favorite places in California. It was so serene and beautiful, and the richly scented air provided continuous aromatherapy. The hacienda-style villa she’d be sharing with Garrett was gorgeous, but it only had one bedroom. Natalie’s mouth went dry at the sight of the prominent king-size bed in the center of the room. She averted her eyes and made quick work of changing into her swimsuit.
Garrett had a meeting at the office, so he’d arranged for one of the Song family drivers to bring her to the retreat. A part of her had been relieved he couldn’t drive with her. Something had shifted between them after her visit with his grandmother. They somehow ended up having dinner together almost every night of the week, and talked for hours, laughing like old friends until they...weren’t. Their attraction would combust without warning and they would find each other mere inches apart, breathing heavily. Starving for a kiss. But one of them—Garrett more often than not—would come to their senses in the nick of time.
She was afraid that someday soon she wouldn’t be able to pull away. Wouldn’t want to. Natalie wanted her husband with such urgency that she was on the verge of exploding. She’d never desired anyone like this before. Not even Peter Klapper, the college boyfriend she’d fancied herself in love with. But he’d soon lost his appeal when she discovered his selfish, narcissistic nature.
The problem with Garrett was the more time they spent together, the more she liked and admired him, and her attraction only grew. Natalie released a long breath. Everything was going to be fine. As long as they didn’t get within four feet of each other, she should be able to suppress her lust for her hot-as-hell husband. But they were sharing a suite for the next two nights. Tight quarters in romantic Ojai meant trouble. Horny, sizzling trouble. Crap.
She headed to the pool using the map she got from the front desk. She got a bit turned around and wound up taking the long way there, but she fortunately didn’t run into any Hansol employees to witness her directional challenges.
She scanned the pool area and spotted a secluded corner that was perfect for her. After spreading out her towel on a lounger, she perched on the edge, ready for some sun worship. The soft melody she was humming under her breath sputtered and died as her jaw dropped.
Garrett was in the pool, swimming toward her with powerful, fluid strokes. When he reached the end by her chaise, he rested his forearms on the edge and grinned at her.
“When did you get here?” The husky tenor of his voice made the innocent question sound like a caress.
Only his glistening hair and muscled torso were visible to her, but Natalie couldn’t drag in a full breath. Garrett was here and he was wet. The light sprinkling of hair on his forearms clung to his skin, and his jet-black hair rained drops of water. Mesmerized, Natalie followed the water sliding down the slopes of his broad shoulders, and wished her fingers could trail after it.
She’d never understood why people thought wet was sexy. Now she could write a thesis on it. The amusement sparkling in his eyes made her realize she was staring at him with her mouth open. Kill me now. She should be thankful she wasn’t drooling.
“Less than an hour ago.” To stop herself from staring at him, she focused on unbuttoning the linen shirt she’d thrown over her swimsuit and shrugged out of it. “What are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t make it till later tonight.”
The silence stretched on between them as his gaze bore into hers with an intensity that stole her breath. His cocky grin was nowhere in sight; instead, he looked at her with the thirst of a man lost in the desert. Confusion clouded her brain and she hid her face by digging in her tote for her sunscreen.
“Did you just get here, too?” Natalie asked to break the tension.
“Yes.” Garrett cleared his throat. “Just.”
“We must’ve crossed paths at the villa.”
“Right. I saw your luggage in our room when I arrived.”
Silence settled around them again as Natalie smoothed white lotion down her legs. It smelled like an orange Creamsicle. She succeeded in avoiding Garrett’s eyes for as long as she could.
But she finished all too soon, leaving only her back undone. Would it look odd if I dislocate my shoulder trying to get sunscreen on my back?
“Here.” Garrett pushed himself out of the pool. “Allow me.”
Despite the hot sun, a chill tripped down her spine like tumbling dominoes.
“Th-thank you.”
Natalie handed him the tube as he settled his glorious wet body next to hers. She gasped and hunched forward. She wasn’t sure what startled her more—the coolness of his hands or the electric shock his touch set off.
“Sorry. The water was pretty cold.” He tugged her back toward him. “Now, hold still.”
He started at the curve of her neck then slid his hands down to the top of her shoulders. Cupping one, he circled his other palm down her back. His touch grew hot against her skin, and it was all she could do to keep from leaning back and purring.
“Your skin’s so fair. Almost as transparent as fine china.” His breath warmed the back of her neck. He leaned in closer, putting his lips at her ear. “Would you break if you’re not handled gently?”
“I’m stronger than I look,” she said. And right now, she wanted to test her strength with something hard and fast.
Natalie twisted around to face him, her breathing uneven. He perused her body, an arrogant tilt to his lips, and a flush of arousal spread across her bare skin. He wanted her. That much was certain. Emboldened, she met his gaze and held it before she lowered her eyes to stare appreciatively at his chest, so smooth and strong.
She’d wondered countless times what he would look like under his dress shirts, and her imagination had not done him justice. The dips and grooves of his well-defined abs begged to be touched. He allowed her to study his body, sitting so still that she wondered if he was breathing. Her hand reached out of its own accord and she pulled it back with a sharp gasp.
She was treading a dangerous path and needed to retreat several paces. It could only lead to heartbreak. He’d made it clear their marriage would be short-lived. If Natalie followed her instincts and gave herself to him, she would be the only one to blame for her regrets.
“I’m going in for a swim,” she said, hoping the water was very, very cold because she was burning inside and out.
He stared at her for a few seconds, letting the electrified air float around them. Her cheeks turned an adorable shade of coral, which told him that she wasn’t immune to the desire raging between them.
For a moment, he thought she was going to touch him. The image of her delicate hands on his naked torso almost made him groan.
“I’ll see you later,” he said, his voice curt. “I need to take care of a couple matters before dinner tonight.”
“Okay, bye.”
She dipped her toes in the pool, testing the water. He needed to get the hell away before she got wet. Garrett hurried toward the pool gate as quickly as he could, which wasn’t very fast because the mindless part of his body refused to stand down. He hoped he was being inconspicuous as he placed his T-shirt in front of his tented board shorts and concentrated on deflating the tent.
Aunt Margo’s sadistic cheek pinches. My old mangy mutt with his perpetual drooling. The food poisoning I had last summer. Just. Don’t. Think. About. Her.
Natalie had cast a dangerous spell over him. He saw nothing else when she was near. Years of hard work, his family’s legacy and the responsibility of ensuring the livelihood of thousands of employees were the foundation on which he’d built his adult life, but he forgot everything. He became a being of want and need. He had no control over it.
He had to devise a hands-off strategy for this weekend. Making certain he hardly spent a moment alone with Natalie had worked so far, but his desire howled in his veins even when they were apart. If I have this much trouble not touching her out in public, how the hell am I going to keep my hands off her tonight? Resisting her allure would be torture—exquisite but agonizing torture. He needed a chastity belt for men.
By the time he reached the hotel lobby, Garrett had himself under control and pulled on his T-shirt. Hansol’s employees crowded the air-conditioned sanctuaries of the indoor bars and restaurants, and their objective was loud and clear—consume vast amounts of alcohol and make public spectacles of themselves.
People were convinced what happened at company retreats didn’t count in real life. For Garrett, who had been in the public eye his entire life, every second counted.
“Mr. Song, sir! Come join us!”
A few of the more inebriated employees tried to wave him over. These were the same employees who practically clicked their heels and scuttled away when he passed them in the office.
Garrett gave a curt nod and walked on, but he envied them with sudden intensity. He longed to forget about family expectations, and honoring your elders over your own desires. He wanted to burn away the scars of his childhood, his cynicism and his self-preservation instinct. He wished he could forget everything and be reckless. Get drunk in public, and make love to his wife...
A humorless laugh escaped from him. He was Garrett Song. Control was everything.
The moment he stepped into their villa and saw Natalie—lovelier in her shorts and T-shirt than any other woman he’d ever seen—he forgot all about work, plans or legacy.
When he’d run into Natalie at the pool, the walls he’d meticulously constructed to shield his desire collapsed like a fortress made of smoke. His mind had been congested with yearning and hunger, and he couldn’t turn to his work for refuge. Instead, he’d gone to the hotel gym to work out until his muscles screamed and he forgot how much he wanted to take his wife to bed. Unfortunately, his dick didn’t care how tired the rest of his body was. One look at her and it was all too alert and ready for its own brand of workout. There was no denying he wanted her more than his next breath.
“Hi.” She took a few uncertain steps toward him, eyeing him warily. “I was just about to make some tea. Would you like a cup?”
“No, thank you.” He stalked her until she backed into the edge of the sofa.
He let his eyes roam her face, then down her body, soaking in every curve and flare. By the time his gaze returned to her face, all he heard was the thunder of his pounding heart. He raised his hand and smoothed his thumb across her cheek. Her lashes fluttered and her lips parted on an indrawn breath. He froze, his mind and heart battling.
In halting movements, he buried his fingers in her hair and drew her to him. With a shaky exhale, he brushed his lips against hers in a fleeting, reverent touch. He withdrew just enough to meet her eyes and waited. His whole body shook with longing and fear—of what, he didn’t know.
Natalie held his gaze, peering steadily at him before leaning in. She kissed one corner of his mouth, then the other, each fleeting touch sending tremors down his spine. With a whispered sigh, she fully claimed his lips, pressing her body against his. He stood still, his hands hovering near her shoulders—to push her away or to hold on to her, he didn’t know.
When she squirmed against him, demanding a response, Garrett caved with a guttural groan. His mouth sought hers while his hands skimmed her sides and hips before reaching back to cup her round ass. She mewled in approval as her fingers dug into his back. Natalie caught fire in his arms and he couldn’t get enough. His tongue flicked, teased and plunged into her warmth, desperate to possess her.
Garrett growled, picked her up by the waist and braced her against the wall. He rolled his hips against her until they both moaned. Another minute of this and he was going to lose it in his pants like a goddamn sixteen-year-old. He drew back an inch and cursed under his breath.
Natalie took advantage of the brief pause to step out of his reach. He blinked at the sudden loss of heat and lifted his hands to bring her back to him.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” she said in a husky whisper. Her breathing was shallow and uneven, but her expression was cool and detached. “We’re both sexually frustrated from our forced celibacy, but we can’t lose sight of our agreement.”
She was absolutely right, but it gutted him to hear the words—the same words he repeated to himself whenever she was near. Well, no more.
“I’m beyond frustrated,” he said. And damn the agreement.
Her eyes widened, as if she’d heard the unsaid words. It was time to stop hiding from the inevitable. He was going to make love to his wife tonight, and to hell with the consequences.