And the Winner Gets...Married!

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And the Winner Gets...Married! Page 4

by Metsy Hingle


  Maybe it was the wine, she thought, as she breathed in the merlot and watched Justin over the rim of her glass. He seemed more relaxed, warmer toward her than he’d been in days. And she…she was enjoying herself, enjoying him. Sitting back in her chair at the conference table in Justin’s office, Kim allowed herself the pleasure of watching him.

  “How’s the wine?” he asked.

  “Wonderful,” she replied, and took another sip to prove it. Remembering what she’d read about wine, she allowed the flavor to rest on her palate to fully enjoy its taste before swallowing.

  “Don’t tell me you’re full,” Justin teased.

  “Hardly.” She took a third slice of the pizza. “Tell me more about the teenagers you work with at the youth center.”

  “They’re a challenge,” he began, and told her about how bright some of the troubled teens he’d been working with really were. “They keep me on my toes, that’s for sure. You should think about coming down. There’s a lot they could learn from you.”

  “I doubt that. You’re the marketing whiz.”

  “But there’s more to business than marketing. You’re smart, organized and you have a way of putting people at ease. Those are rare qualities, Kim. You instill even a fraction of them in those kids and it’ll go a long way toward shaping their future.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured, touched by the sincerity of his words.

  “Nothing to thank me for. It’s the truth. And I hope you’ll at least think about coming down to the center.”

  “I will,” she promised, and nearly choked when he smiled at her. God, but he was beautiful, she thought as she watched him tackle another slice of pizza. With that hint of red in his brown hair, the hazel eyes filled with laughter, the strong cheekbones and stubborn chin. For him to be so nice and honorable, too, just made him that much more attractive. Who could blame her for falling in love with him?

  “You going to eat that?” he asked, pointing to the last slice of pizza on her plate.

  “No. You go ahead and finish it,” she told him.

  “Tell you what. Why don’t we split it,” he suggested, and proceeded to divide the slice in two.

  Justin polished off his half in a matter of seconds, but it took her a while longer. “Full?” he asked as he refilled both of their glasses.

  “Stuffed is more like it,” she confessed, dropping her napkin on the paper plate.

  “Hang on a second. You’ve got a little tomato sauce on your face.”

  “Where?” she asked, and reached for a napkin to blot at her chin.

  “Here, let me do that,” he said, and, taking the napkin from her, he caught her chin in his hand and gently dabbed at a corner of her mouth.

  He was so close Kim could see the stubble on his chin, smell the woodsy scent he wore. And when his fingers stilled and he looked into her eyes, she could scarcely breathe.

  “You have the most incredible-colored eyes,” he told her.

  “They’re blue.”

  “No. Not blue. Not green. But a combination. They’re the color of water in the Caribbean where I sailed my boat last summer.”

  He stroked her cheek with his thumb, brought his face a fraction closer. “Kim, I…”

  Kim’s heart beat wildly in her chest. The breath stalled in her lungs. Instinctively she tipped up her head, closed her eyes and waited for the touch of his mouth.

  “I-it’s getting late. We probably should call it a night,” Justin said, and dropped his hand from her face.

  The words hit Kim like a blast of cold water. Her eyes snapped open and she scrambled to her feet, horrified of what Justin must think of her. Unable to meet his gaze for fear he would realize she’d wanted him to kiss her, she began to frantically snatch up the empty plates and napkins. “You can go on home. I’ll clear away this stuff and lock up,” she told him as she piled the paper goods atop the now-empty pizza box.

  “Here, let me get that,” Justin offered when her unsteady fingers began dropping the soiled napkins.

  “I’ve got it,” she argued.

  But Justin ignored her. “You’ve worked hard enough today. Go ahead and close up shop at your desk while I handle the cleanup.”

  Eager to escape, Kim didn’t argue. She simply fled Justin’s office, praying she could get out of there before he saw the tears prickling at the backs of her eyes. Quickly she grabbed her purse from inside the drawer of her desk where she kept it and snatched up her car keys. “Good night, Justin,” she called out, and started for the door. “Thanks again for dinner.”

  “What? Wait a minute,” he said, sticking his head out the door of his office. “Let me get rid of this,” he told her, indicating the wineglasses and wine bottle he held in his hands. “It’ll only take me a second and then I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “That’s really not necessary. Tom or one of the other security guards will see that I get there safely.”

  “But—”

  “I’ve got to go. Have a safe trip and good luck with Schaeffer tomorrow,” she said, and exited the office suite quickly before the first tears began to fall.

  Three

  “Kim, wait!”

  The door swooshed closed behind her. But not before Justin had a chance to see her face. Had those been tears in her eyes? he wondered. Were they because of him? Had Kim realized what he’d been thinking of doing a few moments ago? What he still wanted to do?

  Damn!

  Staring at the door through which Kim had just exited, Justin checked the urge to go after her. He scrubbed a hand down his face. To do so would be a mistake, he reasoned. He’d come dangerously close to kissing her a few minutes ago. Were he to follow her now, he wasn’t at all sure that he wouldn’t give in to the desire that had been nagging at him for days.

  Definitely not a good idea, Connelly.

  Not only would he risk losing the best assistant he’d ever worked with, but Kim would have every right to slap him and the company with a sexual harassment suit. Still, for a moment there, he’d almost believed that Kim had wanted him to kiss her.

  Right! More like wishful thinking on his part, Justin conceded as he headed back into his office. Kim probably hadn’t given him a second thought. She’d certainly never indicated that she had any romantic interest in him. Why should she? Despite that most-eligible-bachelor tag he’d been labeled with, the truth was he was a dull guy who spent most of his time working and little time on fun. If women were drawn to him, it probably had more to do with the fact that he’d been lucky enough to be born of a gene pool that provided him with decent looks. Being a part of the Connelly dynasty that had amassed a fortune and having ties to royalty didn’t hurt, either. Kim, on the other hand, was a bright and attractive young woman. No doubt any number of guys were interested in her. And while he knew little about her personal life, it stood to reason that there would be a man in her life.

  Justin frowned at the notion of Kim in the arms of another man. Disturbed by how much the idea bothered him, he told himself it was because he was protective of Kim. After all, they worked closely together. He’d become fond of her, valued her as his assistant and depended upon her. It was only normal that he should feel some concern about her, he reasoned.

  He was going to drive himself crazy if he didn’t stop thinking about Kim and whom she might or might not be involved with. Determined to wipe Kim and thoughts of her love life from his mind, Justin focused all his attention on making sure he had everything he would need while he was in New York.

  For the next ten minutes the impending business meetings drove all other thoughts from his mind. After adding two other file folders he would need for his meetings in New York, as well as the redrafted contracts for the Schaeffer deal, he surveyed the contents of his briefcase.

  “I’m forgetting something,” he muttered. But what?

  Don’t forget your Palm Pilot.

  Justin jerked his head up as he remembered Kim’s earlier instructions. Striding out of his office, he marched over
to Kim’s desk. There was his Palm Pilot resting in the caddy where Kim had placed it when she’d taken the hand-held computer gadget in order to synchronize it with the updated data on his computer’s main network. He picked up the palm-size marvel that contained not only his schedule for the entire year, but also the addresses and phone numbers of his family, friends and business associates. As he turned to leave, he spied the single white rose on Kim’s desk that she’d bought from a street vendor the previous day.

  And quick as a wink she was back in his head again.

  Only this time she wasn’t at Connelly headquarters. She was on the beach with her faced tipped up to the sun and her lips turned up in a smile. She’d exchanged the neat, ladylike blue suit she’d worn that day for a pair of shorts and a T-shirt that made the most of those curves he’d caught a glimpse of the other evening. And instead of that prim, sleek twist, her hair was loose and flowing like silk in the wind. But it was Kim’s eyes—those serious blue-green eyes that had been haunting him for nearly a week—that he saw most clearly. Those eyes were bright with laughter and expectation and desire.

  Justin’s mouth went dry. He sucked in a breath. “Oh, man.” He definitely needed to get a grip, he told himself, and strode back into his office. He tossed the Palm Pilot into the briefcase, then snapped it closed and forced himself to shut off the enticing images of Kim in his head.

  He was going to be in serious trouble if he didn’t get a handle on these crazy thoughts he’d been having about his assistant, Justin reminded himself. He snatched up his briefcase, retrieved his suit coat and headed toward the exit.

  So, he would get a handle on it, he assured himself, as he stepped into the elevator. All he had to do was treat this new attraction he was experiencing toward Kim as he would a business or marketing problem. These next few days away from Kim—tomorrow in New York and then the weekend—would provide him with the perfect opportunity to do just that. Squaring his shoulders, Justin stepped off the elevator and, after signing out with the guard on duty, he headed for the garage.

  A few days away from Kim was just what he needed to put things back into their proper perspective. He and Kim made a good working team. No way did he plan to mess that up by giving in to some crazy urges he’d had to kiss her. He’d already figured out it was his own lack of a social life that had triggered this new attraction he’d felt toward Kim. He’d simply force himself to reclaim some time for a social life. Already feeling better, he breathed a sigh of relief as he slid behind the wheel of his Mercedes. With any luck Kim would never find out just how close he’d come to crossing the line, and their relationship would go back to being business as usual.

  It was business as usual when he called Kim from New York the next day. Seated in the back seat of the taxi en route to his meeting, Justin listened on his cell phone as Kim relayed his messages.

  “Ashley Powers called. She said that you owe her a dinner and she’d like to collect soon.”

  Justin thought of the striking brunette stockbroker he’d taken out a few times this spring. The woman was beautiful, intelligent and had been sending him signals that she was more than ready to take their relationship to the next level. He’d been prepared to take her up on her offer for more than a month now, but their busy schedules kept getting in the way. Maybe Ashley was just what he needed to firmly shut off any lingering attraction he felt for Kim. “What’s on my calendar for next Friday night?” Justin paused, and when Kim didn’t answer, he asked, “Kim, you still there?”

  “Yes. I was just pulling up your calendar on my screen. Right now you’re open.”

  “See if Ashley’s free for the evening. If she is, make us dinner reservations. Try that new place mentioned in that food critic’s column last week.”

  “All right,” Kim replied.

  “What else have you got for me?”

  “Robert Marsh said he needs to speak with you.”

  “What does he want?” Justin asked, agitated that Marsh was the reason he was in New York. Had the other man paid closer attention to the details, he wouldn’t be scrambling to clean up a mess now.

  “He wouldn’t tell me. He said it was personal and had to do with family business.”

  Justin frowned, disliking the way Marsh had taken to identifying himself as a member of the Connelly family. Perhaps Justin had become jaded, but every instinct in him said Marsh was far more in love with the idea of marrying into the Connellys than he was in love with Alexandra. “Inform Marsh that he can either tell you what it is he wants or he can wait until I get back in the office on Monday.”

  “I’ll tell him.”

  “Is that it?”

  “Not quite. You have two more phone messages. One is from Patrice Barlow, who said to tell you that she and her daughter Bethany will be at the bachelor auction tonight and that Bethany will be making a substantial bid on you.”

  Justin groaned aloud. “Let’s hope that her bid’s not too substantial. I’m not sure I could handle spending an entire evening with Bethany the debutante.”

  “She’s not that bad,” Kim told him.

  “Easy for you to say. You’ve never been trapped at a dinner party with her and forced to listen to her ramble on and on about sororities in that squeaky voice of hers.”

  “She’s very pretty,” Kim offered.

  “How can you tell under all that makeup? The last time I saw her she was wearing so much gloss on her mouth that I thought the wineglass was going to slip across her lips and she’d end up with wine in her ear.”

  “You’re making that up!”

  “All right, maybe I am exaggerating a little,” he said. “But you have to admit, the woman does overdo the makeup.”

  “Maybe a little,” Kim conceded.

  He didn’t have to see Kim’s face to hear the smile in her voice, to imagine the grin curving her lips—lips with just a touch of rose color, and far more inviting than Bethany Barlow’s could ever be. Realizing where his thoughts were headed, Justin sobered at once. “You said I had another message.” he prompted, reverting to business.

  “Yes, from your sister Tara. She just wanted to wish you luck today and to say thanks in advance for agreeing to participate in the auction tonight.”

  “In other words, she called to remind me that I’d better show up tonight or I’m toast,” Justin countered.

  “I wouldn’t put it that way exactly. She’s just a little nervous and wants to make sure there are no glitches.”

  “Nice try, Kim. But I know my little sister. She had you double-check the flight arrangements, didn’t she?”

  Kim hesitated. “I offered to check.”

  Uh-huh, Justin thought. No doubt his sister had made an ally of Kim. Not that he was surprised. People seemed to gravitate toward Kim, and heaven knew that Tara could use a friend after the rough time she’d had these past years. “Tell Tara not to worry. A promise is a promise. I’ll be there.”

  “I’ll tell her,” Kim replied. After a moment’s pause, she said, “That’s everything for the moment.”

  “Good,” he said, but found himself reluctant to cut the connection.

  “Was there anything else you needed me to do?” Kim asked.

  “No. No, you’ve covered everything as usual.”

  “Just doing my job,” she informed him. “Speaking of which, I better start making those calls.”

  “Kim, wait.”

  “Yes?”

  “Promise me that you’ll get out of there on time for a change. I don’t like the idea of you working late alone.”

  “Justin, I’m perfectly safe. The security—”

  “Promise me,” he insisted.

  “All right. I promise to leave on time. I was going to leave at five today, anyway.”

  “Big plans for the evening?” The question slipped out before he could stop himself.

  “Kind of. I’m going to the fund-raiser tonight at the hotel. Your sister bought extra seats and insisted on giving me a ticket to attend. That is
if my being there doesn’t make you uncomfortable. If it does, I can tell Tara I can’t make it.”

  “Why would your presence make me uncomfortable?”

  “I…don’t know. It’s just that you’ve seemed a little edgy the past few days. I thought that maybe it was me, that I’d done something to make you uncomfortable.”

  “I’m just uptight about the Schaeffer meeting,” Justin lied. “By all means go to the fund-raiser. It’ll be nice to see a friendly face there.”

  “If you’re sure…”

  “Positive. Come. Bring your boyfriend, and the two of you can have a great time.” Before she could reply, he ended the call by saying, “Got to run. I’m at Schaeffer’s now. I’ll see you tonight.”

  Kim stared at her reflection in the mirror, unable to believe that the elegant creature who looked back was actually her. She smoothed her hands down the skirt of the strapless black evening gown. And when her gloved fingers whispered along the moiré silk fabric, she fell in love with the dress all over again. Dismissing the last pangs of guilt over splurging on the outfit, Kim smiled. Both the dress and the matching eighteen-button doeskin gloves had been worth every penny, she decided, as she turned to admire the way the skirt swished about her ankles.

  The store clerk had been right. It was the type of gown that made a woman feel like a princess. And Kim couldn’t help feeling a bit like Cinderella on her way to the ball. Lifting her skirt, she studied the high-heeled shoes with their delicate straps. “Not exactly glass slippers,” she murmured.

  But every bit as impractical, she thought, and laughed aloud at her own foolish purchase. She’d probably never wear the shoes again. And the likelihood that she’d ever have an occasion to wear the gown and gloves again were just as slim, she admitted. Yet for now, for tonight, it didn’t matter. Tonight she could pretend she was a princess attending her first ball.

  “Good evening, My Lord,” she mimicked. Enjoying the game, she executed a curtsy and giggled when she wobbled on the skyscraper heels. Definitely not walking shoes, she reminded herself, and made a mental note to take small, slow steps tonight. Otherwise, she’d be tumbling in the middle of the ballroom floor in front of all those important people. The idea of disgracing herself that way sent a shudder through Kim. She hugged her arms to herself. She could just imagine what Justin’s reaction would be to the sight of her sprawled on the floor.

 

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