Under His Touch

by Cathryn Fox

  “Right,” she says, and pulls the blankets up to cover herself. Now, why did that feel more like a kick to the nuts? Oh, maybe because someplace deep inside me I want her to tell me not to go out, that she’s the girl for me and we can make forever work. But there is no forever in my world, as I was just reminded, and I’d be wise to remember that.

  Yeah, I’m totally fucked.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Megan

  IT’S BEEN FOUR WEEKS. Four glorious, yet horrible weeks and not one of the dozen women I’ve set Alec up with have been “suitable.” While one part of me is far too thrilled about that—seeing as I end up in his bed every night—the other part of me is distraught. The clock is ticking, and Blackstone’s annual golf tournament where Alec is to introduce his fiancée is coming up fast. He needs to have a woman on his arm, and a ring on her finger, if he wants to impress the aging board of directors, with their old-fashioned values.

  I rush around my apartment and get ready to meet Alec. At least I’ve convinced him to stop scaring the women off by blurting out that he wants a marriage in name only, and he promised he’d at least try to find common ground and give the relationship a chance. Yet none of the women have measured up to what he needs. Or so he says. I have the feeling he’s not trying hard enough, and the women are the ones backing away, which is why I am now stepping in to go on a date with him. I want to see firsthand what he’s like, how he acts and treats his dates. If he’s coming off as some hard-assed, guarded businessman, no wonder he can’t get a second date.

  We’re going to my favorite Mexican restaurant, and with the weather warmer and the nights growing longer, I slip into one of my favorite dresses, a little black number that can be dressed up or dressed down. As it slides down my sides, the soft material scraping my skin, the sudden visual of Alec tearing it from my body sends heat to my core.

  “Oh, my,” I say under my breath as I fasten the button at the back and contort my arms to zip it up. I put on a bit of mascara, a light dusting of blush and swipe my favorite pink lipstick across my lips, which are still kiss-swollen from last night, and all the nights before.

  The buzzer sounds, and I rush to my front door and press it, giving Alec access to the building. A moment later a knock comes on my door, and I take a deep breath. Why the hell am I so nervous? This is Alec, and I’ve been in bed with him numerous times.

  You’ve never gone on a date, though.

  But it’s not even like it’s a real date. We both know that. I’m only doing this to critique him. Right?

  Okay, stop overanalyzing things, Megan.

  I slip on my shoes and smooth my dress down, and pull myself together as I walk to the door. I swing it open, and when I find Alec standing there, looking casual and yummy in his chinos and button-down shirt, I nearly falter in my heels.

  With one hand behind his back, he reaches out, touches the tumble of hair flirting with my shoulders. “You’re beautiful,” he says, his gaze slowly sliding down the length of me.

  “You are, too,” I say for lack of anything else.

  He grins at me, a grin so sexy and so full of mischief and promise, I almost forget how to breathe. Surprising me, he produces a bouquet of flowers from behind his back.

  “Nice touch,” I say. Jeez, I can’t remember the last time a guy gave me flowers, a real date or not.

  “I thought so.”

  “Modest, too. For the life of me I don’t understand why you can’t get a second date,” I tease.

  “I’m not sure I’d use the word can’t.”

  “Your ego won’t allow that?” I tease.

  “I told you, those women weren’t right. You’re doing a good job picking them. They fit all my criteria on paper, but there’s something missing when we meet face-to-face.”

  “You have to stop being so picky,” I say as I take the flowers into the kitchen. I fill a vase with water and drop them in. I turn back around and reach for my purse. “Ready?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” he grumbles, and follows me to the door. We step into the hall and I lock up. A few minutes later we’re in his Tesla heading to Lindo’s. Alec finds a parking spot and comes around my side of the car to let me out.

  “So far, so good,” I say to him. “That would impress any woman, I’m sure.”

  He grins. “I’m not an ogre. I do have manners. Plus, you’re grading me, so I’m pulling out all the stops.” He slides his arm around my body, placing his hand on the small of my back, and a fine shiver moves through me. “Cold?” he asks, his brow furrowed with genuine concern, and I hate how much I like that.

  “Not really.” No sense in lying. The man is well aware of what his touch does to me.

  “Ah,” he says, his grin widening. “We could skip dinner and head straight to my place.”

  “Alec,” I warn, even though I’m in love with the idea. “We need to focus.”

  “Fine, fine,” he says, and opens the restaurant door. I step inside and breathe in the delicious scents as I glance around the dimly lit, cozy and somewhat romantic restaurant. Alec stands close as the hostess comes our way, so close I can smell his freshly soaped skin as well as the aroma that is uniquely Alec.

  Alec gives his name and reservation time, and the hostess checks her tablet before leading us to a small table in the back corner. Light from the candle dances across his handsome face as we take our seats.

  “Nicest table in the place,” I say to him, and look around, noting the way some woman keeps casting glances our way. A former lover? My stomach knots at the thought and I push it down. Not my business, nor my issues.

  Alec opens the wine list and hands it to me. “What would you like?” he asks.

  “I’d love a glass of chardonnay,” I say, and hand it back. The waiter comes to take our drink orders, and Alec orders wine for me and a soda for himself.

  “You’re not having anything?” I ask.

  “I’m driving,” he says and my heart wobbles in my chest.

  “I wish you would have met my parents, Alec. You would have liked them.”

  “I’m sure I would,” he says. “I feel like I know them anyway, from all your stories.”

  I swallow down the lump in my throat. “You were always such a good listener, so patient with me when I was sad. You barely knew me, and yet you took such good care of me. I don’t think I would have made it without you.” I pause for a moment as my mind trips back to high school. “In thinking back, I don’t think it was fair of me to put that burden on you. I wasn’t your problem.”

  His hand slides across the table and captures mine. “Megs, come on. You were going through a hard time, and I wanted to be there for you.”

  “Why?” I ask, and hold back the question I really want to ask.

  Why did you leave me after prom?

  “Sara and I were friends, and you were her cousin. You were like a lost puppy and I kind of have a thing for puppies,” he says with a grin.

  “You just lost points.”

  He sits up straighter, his shoulders square, and I can’t help but grin at his cute yet confused expression. “What did I do?”

  “Somehow in there, I think you called me an ankle biter.”

  He bursts out laughing, and I laugh with him, the mood around us softening, mellowing. The waiter comes with our drinks, and we place our food orders, and fall into easy conversation. The woman two tables over, however, keeps an eye on Alec and I do my best to ignore her.

  Our meal arrives, a dinner for two, and in the center of the table the waiter sets out an enchilada, a burrito, a taco and a chimichanga for us to split.

  “Looks amazing,” I say as Alec slices the enchiladas in half and divvies them up on our plates.

  “I haven’t had Mexican in years,” he says.

  “Remember when we used to eat it every weekend?” I ask him. “It was always between pizza and M
exican.”

  “And nine times out of ten you always won the thumb war and got your way,” he says.

  I glance at his big hands. “Wait, did you let me win on purpose?” I bite into my food and moan at the delicious flavors.

  “Me, let you win?” He arches a brow. “Are you forgetting how competitive I am?”

  “Nope, you were competitive.”

  “Still am.”

  I take a sip of wine. “Win or die trying, right?”

  He laughs. “Something like that?” He forks the enchilada into his mouth, and nods. “This is good,” he says.

  “Try this one.” I cut the chicken burrito into two and put half on his plate. He takes a generous bite, and moans. “I think this beats pizza every day.”

  “Pizza has its place,” I say, remembering the first night we shared a pie at his apartment and the way we played afterward. Okay, get your mind off sex before your nipples poke through your dress. It’s all fun and games until someone puts an eye out. Changing topics, I ask, “You’re still coming to the anniversary party tomorrow night?”

  “Still planning on it, unless you’re sending me out on another date.”

  “I’m not. I figured you needed a night off.”

  “I’m looking forward to catching up with Sara.” A little sound escapes me when he brings up my cousin. “What?” he asks, and takes a drink of water.

  “Did you know back in high school all the girls had a crush on you.”

  “Nope. Didn’t know.”

  “Apparently they wanted a piece of Alec Carson.” I lean toward him. “But they all thought we were an item.”

  He doesn’t laugh at that, like I thought he would. Instead he says, “I can see that. We were pretty inseparable.”

  I dig deep, gather courage, and I’m about to ask him what happened to us, when the woman who’s been staring takes out her phone and aims it our way.

  “I think that woman just took a picture of us,” I say to Alec.

  “Shit,” he says under his breath.

  The woman pushes her chair back and steps up to our table. “Alec,” she says. “Alec Carson.”

  He angles his head. “What can I do for you?” he asks, and from the way he’s looking at her I get the sense they don’t know each other.

  “Rumor has it New York’s most eligible bachelor is soon to get married.” Her gaze slides to me, and she has a weird smirk on her face. “Are you the lucky lady who’s finally pinned him down?”

  “If you’ll excuse us, we’re in the middle of dinner,” he says, his voice hard and agitated but holding a measure of politeness, even though the woman doesn’t deserve it.

  “But it’s breaking news, Alec.” She bats well-painted eyelashes at him, and does a flirty toss of her red hair. “I’m sure Starlight would love to do a spread.”

  Starlight is a tabloid magazine that emphasizes sensationalized crime stories and gossip about celebrities. It wasn’t long ago that Will was on the cover...in bed with a woman who wasn’t his fiancée. He must have gone into hiding, keeping his head down and nose clean, because he hasn’t been in the news for a long time. Could this be the reporter who outed him?

  The brazen woman turns to me. “And what is your name?”

  “Her name is none of your concern,” Alec answers through clenched teeth. His jaw is so tight, I’m sure he’s going to crack his back teeth.

  My pulse beats a little faster, and my heart goes out to Alec as I take in the tension in his body. I’ve seen the pictures of him in the papers, of course. But never knew how aggressive and downright rude the paparazzi could be—to his face—until this very second.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll find out who she is.” She laughs as her gaze moves over me. “Although you don’t really seem like his type.” She taps her finger to her chin, and puckers her lips. “Tired of playing with models, going for the plain Jane instead?” she asks, her gaze zeroing in on Alec.

  Alec stands so fast, his chair shoves backward, but it doesn’t faze the woman at all. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that.”

  “Oh, my. I’ve never seen this protective side of you before, Alec. She must be pretty special,” she says, giving me another glace before walking away.

  Alec slowly sits back in his chair and smooths his hand over his chest.

  “I’m sorry. It’s awful what you have to put up with. Do you want to leave?”

  He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. “Let’s finish our meal and not give her that kind of power over us.”

  “Do you think she’ll print the picture?”

  “I don’t know. We’re having dinner. Nothing to really sensationalize over that.”

  “Does this happen a lot?” I catch a glimpse of the woman as she breezes out the door, looking quite smug with herself. “When you were on other dates, were you harassed?”

  “Sometimes.”

  Perhaps that’s why things never worked out. No one wants to be accosted, photographed or belittled during dinner.

  “She’s wrong, you know,” he says.

  “Wrong?”

  “You’re not a plain Jane. You’re beautiful.”

  I set my fork down, my pulse jumping in my neck. “Thank you,” I say quietly as he divides the taco, and puts half on my plate, but I no longer have an appetite. “How do you think she found out? Who would have said you were soon to get married?”

  “Granddad is spreading it all around town. I’m going to have a talk with him.”

  “Don’t be too hard on him. He’s just excited for you. I think...” I let my words fall off. I don’t want to say anything to upset him.

  “You think what?” he asks, pushing the matter.

  “I don’t think he’s very well, Alec. He was doing a lot of fading in and out when he hired me, like he was forgetting his words, and I think he just wants to see his grandkids happy and settled down before...” I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence. I’ve always loved Alec’s granddad. He was so good to me when we were younger, and the thought of losing someone else I care about cuts me deeply.

  “Yeah, I guess.” Alec pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m not so sure his mind is going, though.”

  “Really, why?”

  “He had enough wits about him to convince me to get married, and drag you into it all.”

  “He didn’t drag me. I went into this willingly.”

  “Even though you knew it was me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Even after...” He looks down, like his thoughts are now a million miles away. Or more like eight hours away by plane. The amount of time it takes to go from New York to St. Moritz.

  The waiter comes, interrupting the moment, and asks if I’d like a refill on wine. I decline, and set my fork down, finished with dinner and wanting to leave, just to go somewhere we can be alone.

  “Ready to go?” Alec asks.

  “Yes. You?”

  He gestures to the waiter to bring the bill, and after he pays, we make our way out into the dark night. I breathe in the fresh spring scents before climbing into the Tesla. Alec circles the car, his strong, confident movements drawing my attention, and a few minutes later, he pulls into traffic, but instead of taking me back to my place he goes in the opposite direction.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “I don’t like surprises,” I say.

  He laughs. “Like hell you don’t. You screamed your head off when I got you those Rolling Stones concert tickets for your birthday.”

  “Well, okay maybe I do,” I say. “As long as it’s a good surprise.”

  His hand slides across the car and sits heavy on my thigh as he gives it a squeeze. His warmth seeps through me, and my insides quiver with all the crazy things I feel for this man. All the emotions that have r
esurfaced in his presence. Suddenly I’m not so sure any of this was worth it. Not if it means I spend another eight years mending a broken heart.

  I stare out the window, take in the pedestrians and shops as he drives, and soon enough we’re at Central Park. “Are we here to feed the duck again?” I ask.

  “Nope.” He parks and comes around to my side of the car. I climb out, and he hits the fob to lock the doors. “Let’s go,” he says, taking my hands in his. A breeze blows over us as I follow him through the lit park and he stops at the hansom cab.

  “A carriage ride? Are you serious?” I ask.

  “You said you’ve never been in one but would like to.” He grins. “How many points does this get me?”

  “A lot,” I say, a little touched and surprised that he remembered. He boosts me up until I’m situated on the seat. He talks to the driver for a second, and then climbs in beside me. I snuggle close, and he wraps his arm around me.

  The buggy starts, and I glance around to admire the sights and the people. “This is so nice,” I say.

  “Yeah, it is.”

  His mood is mellow, but there is heat in his eyes as he gazes at me. His hand brushes my hair from my face. “I want to be inside you,” he whispers.

  My heart stalls. “I want that, too.”

  “My place or yours?” he asks.

  I grin at his cheesiness. “How about winner chooses,” I say, and take his hands in mine for a thumb war. He laughs out loud and the sound takes me back, reminding me of the Alec I once knew. Only problem is, I’m beginning to like this version of him a little too much.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Alec

  PHILLIP PULLS THE limo up to the curb, and I thank him as I exit the vehicle.

  I step inside the building where the anniversary party is well underway and take the elevator to the top floor. I’m a bit late but I had some last-minute things to take care of that kept me tied to my desk. When I enter the Skylark, I look around and finally spot Megan talking to Sara. My heart kicks into gear the second I see her, but then worry seeps into my bones. I can’t tell what they’re discussing but from Megan’s body language, I’d hazard a guess that it’s something very important. I take a step toward her when I’m stopped by Megan’s aunt and uncle.