Charles had purposefully kept Gemma close during the party because he knew how some of them could turn out.
It didn't stop some men from looking at her though, and that it itself bothered Charles. He had never experienced this before. He just knew that he felt very possessive of Gemma suddenly.
He wasn't sure if it was the head knowledge that he'd told her to decide if she wanted to be his girlfriend or not, or if it was having her so close to him for the past several days, or if it were a cumulative effect of the past two and a half months of her constant efforts, but Gemma had somehow squeezed through some of his defenses and he didn't know how to handle that.
On one hand, he'd never wanted a woman so badly in his life. On the other hand, she was making her way toward his innermost self, something he had guarded from everyone with ferocity, and it made him very uncomfortable.
As he stepped back into the elevator with Gemma, however, he was fairly certain that his passion would win out that night.
She had a faint blush to her cheeks and a faint smile. Then she yawned. Charles frowned.
"Are you tired?" He asked.
"Mmm." She murmured.
The elevator reached their floor and he led her back to his suite. She went straight to the washroom to prepare for bed. He went to the washroom for a shower after she had finished. When he walked back into the room, he found Gemma sound asleep, under the quilt.
He was disappointed. He intend to make her his that night, but she was sleeping. He crawled into the bed beside her and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her lips and she snuggled closer to him, subconsciously seeking his warmth.
His breath caught in his throat. He felt the long-dead feelings of tenderness. And... he wasn't sure if it's was still possible, but perhaps the beginning stages of love.
"Sleep well, Gemma." He whispered.