She ignored Julienne’s question, of course.
“Gregor was your first…guy.”
Julienne smiled at the hesitation. Once the stories started hitting the rags, Nicola had raged about how much she didn’t like him. It had been then when Julienne had admitted that he had been her first and only sexual experience.
“And?”
“I know that you might be a little bit worried about your reputation, or what people would think, but truly, Jules, who gives a damn? The only two people who should care about what’s going on between you two should be you and San Francisco Alek. Don’t do anything you don’t want to, but for once in your blessed life, Jules, do something that makes you happy. And if that means doing Alek, then by all means, do him.”
It was like a light bulb went off inside her head. Nic was right. It was only their business and everyone else could sod off. Determination filled her as she straightened her shoulders.
“And the dress looks good?”
“Definitely. I’d do you.”
Julienne snorted out a laugh. “Thanks, I think.”
“Go get him, woman, and have fun for once in your life.”
“I will.”
“Love you.”
“Love you,” Julienne said, before ending the call.
She looked at herself once more. Grabbing her lipstick, she slathered it on, red again. With Alek, it seemed to be her signature color. She hurried downstairs knowing he would be there soon. As if on cue, the doorbell rang. The urge to run to the door and throw it open almost overwhelmed her. Instead, she told herself to calm down. There was no reason to get so insane about a man who was going to remain in the friend category.
By the time she made it to the entrance, she thought she had convinced herself that their relationship was one of friends of the opposite sex. But the moment she opened the door and saw him standing on her welcome mat, the heated rush of memories washed over her. The smell of his skin, the way his tongue felt as he licked over her nipple, and the moment he plunged inside her…bloody hell.
For a long moment, she couldn’t think of anything to say or do.
“Good evening,” she finally said, inwardly cringing. She really needed to learn another way to deal with her awkwardness.
She stepped back and let him come into the house. He still had his work clothes on, a pair of light-colored slacks and a Hawaiian shirt. He had a bit of scruff on his face—and she liked it. She also liked the way he was smiling at her. Like she owned the entire world.
“I hope the flight was an easy one.”
His smile widened. “I have a feeling it will always be an easy journey back to you.”
Her heart sighed. Why did he insist on being this man, one who could easily charm her back into bed and most definitely leave her with a broken heart?
“I’m famished, if you just want to set your bag down.”
“Can I change? I feel overdressed.”
She looked down at her own dress rethinking it.
“Oh, no, you are not changing that dress,” he said, his deep timbre rolling over the syllables.
Julienne raised her gaze to his. “Not too much?”
“You are never too much.”
Dammit, the man was inching into her heart one comment at a time. She had always been told she was too loud when she was younger. Not by her parents, but her teachers had admonished her for being a little raucous. What did people expect?
“I’ll wait here for you if you just want to pop into the bathroom down there.”
“Yes. I’m also famished.”
