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modifications. She heard his feet cross the marble floor, and a shiver of anticipation threaded through her body. Focus on the calculations. Don’t let him get the upper hand. Cassandra refused to budge from her seat, using the well-worn comfort of the rhythm of work to suppress her hormone’s hallelujah chorus.
    “Good morning,” Marco said when he reached the desk. “Did you sleep well?”
    Cassandra pressed the alt-save buttons before she accidentally erased all her changes. “Not bad considering I spent the night alone,” she said.
    “That will change soon enough.” He leaned over her and rested his hands on either side of her laptop. “Is this a new design?”
    She could feel his heat, the sheer energy of his masculinity radiated into her skin. The tips of her fingers tingled and her pulse skipped several beats. Dear lord, the man was a walking human pheromone. All he had to do was be within a yard of her and she lost all ability to think rationally.
    “It’s an ongoing project,” she said, closing the screen. Marco owned her, but he’d given her Nelson Industries. The Barracuda was hers. The catamaran’s chances to win the next regatta, along with her position as Chief Operating Officer of Nelson Industries, had been what she had traded love for when she’d spoken her wedding vows. “And none of your concern.”
    “Everything about you is important to me.” Marco traced a line down the column of her neck. “Business can wait. I was about to have some breakfast. Care to join me?”
    Tiny lightening strokes zipped along her nerve endings. Every erogenous zone she possessed, even some she hadn’t known existed until now, fired to life. Oh, but his touch was her undoing.
    “Sure,” she said. “I’m famished.” Truthfully, the only thing she was hungry for was Marco. But Cassandra refused to give him any evidence of her craving. Spending her honeymoon night alone while he had slept who-knows-where had been humiliating enough.
    “ Buenos .” He pushed away from the desk, then slowly swiveled her office chair around. “My housekeeper would be disappointed if we didn’t eat the wedding brunch she prepared.”
    She gazed directly at his torso. Marco’s black shirt stretched across his rock hard abs and his linen pants did nothing to hide the evidence of his impressive arousal. Cassandra’s mouth watered—hunger would do that to a girl—but she swallowed her reaction, then tipped her head up to take in Marco’s gorgeous face.
    “I’m ready to head to the veranda when you move out of my way.” She injected her words with glacier ice. “After all, I wouldn’t want to upset Imelda. And I can see quite clearly that you’re starving, too.”
    His eyes gleamed hot. “We’ll quench every appetite soon enough.”
    She glanced down, then back up, quirking her lips into a half smile. “I can hardly wait.” A measure of satisfaction coursed through her when she saw the tic jump in his jawline.
    Marco took her hand, rubbed the pad of his thumb over her empty ring finger, then frowned. “I believe when we were shopping in Vegas for your new wardrobe, I forgot two important items that I always want to see you wearing.”
    Her heartbeat fluttered wildly in her wrist. It was like a thousand hummingbirds had taken flight inside her body and she had no inner net to contain them. “I understand. It’s not like we had a formal announcement, or engagement, or…” an emotional history to bond them.
    “Shh.” He kissed each slender tapered finger and knuckle. “You’re my wife. After brunch, we’ll drive to Mar del Plata and fix this mistake.”
    Cassandra stared into Marco’s emerald green eyes. Eyes that promised passion in their depths. Her skin tingled and the air between them felt thick with unspoken needs. And dreams that no longer mattered.
    “Of course. We need to prove that I’m yours when we return to Key West in three weeks for the reception my parents are coordinating,” she said.