Day Leclaire - The Provocative Proposal

by The Provocative Proposal (lit)

  She tried every other piece in that particular hole, but none of them worked. Finally, she took the piece away from Shayde and slipped it into the space. It fit perfectly.

  “Oops.” He grinned at her. “Caught me.”

  Tess released her breath in a long sigh, the remnants of the dream fading. Gazing up at the ceiling she yawned. “Yup. I caught you. Now the question is... What do I do with you?”

  As Shayde’s first order of business, he filled Tess’s of­fice with flowers. It didn’t further his assignment to in­stigate a romance with Gray, but he couldn’t help think­ing that every newly engaged woman should have her office filled with flowers from a lovesick fiance.

  Next came a duty he didn’t look forward to. But he had a job to accomplish, and he’d get it done, regardless of how he might feel about it personally... and personally he’d come to despise what he’d been assigned to do. Picturing Tess in Gray’s arms—imagining her responding to another man’s kisses the way she’d responded to his, thinking about someone else touching her as inti­mately as he’d touched her—stirred something dark and elemental. He didn’t understand the possessiveness that gripped him. Or perhaps he was afraid to examine it too closely for fear of what he’d discover about himself.

  Whatever the cause, it required every scrap of will­power for Shayde to pick up the phone and place a call to Gray.

  The call might have been a mistake.

  In less than an hour, Tess stood outside his apartment door, hammering away with unmistakable fury. Even her hair underscored her outrage. The vibrant curls escaped her slicked back style and bounced around her face, punctuating every movement in a colorful swirl of cha­otic abandon. He didn’t dare ask how she’d managed to talk her way past the security desk. Even more unnerving was how she’d found his apartment when she didn’t even know his name.

  The instant he opened the door, she swept across his threshold, bristling from stem to stern like an orange tabby whose fur had been brushed the wrong way. “Start talking, Shayde. I want to hear exactly what you said to Gray and why.” Three steps in and she stopped dead, gazing around wide-eyed. “Oh, wow.”

  “Please.” He slammed the door shut behind her. “Come in.”

  She took a full minute to examine what she could of his apartment from where she stood in the foyer, even standing on tippytoes to catch a glimpse of the living area. “This place is incredible. I mean really... incredible.” With a reluctant sigh, she turned to face him, her attention switching to the matter that had brought her banging on his door. Renewed anger swiftly overrode curiosity. “Okay. Talk.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d care to go back to incredi­ble?”

  She waved the red herring aside without so much as a nibble. “We’ll get to that soon enough. First I want to know precisely what you said to Gray and why.”

  “Me?” Shayde feigned innocence, something he didn’t do very well. With a bit of luck she might not notice, though considering Tess’s powers of perception, it was a long shot at best. “What are you talking about?”

  “You told Grayson Shaw how our engagement came about.”

  Aw, hell. Next time he saw his good ol’ buddy, Gray, he’d get some payback. A solid poke in the nose wouldn’t go amiss. Shayde scowled. Now that he thought about it, maybe he’d be really generous and give his indiscreet friend a second one, just to make certain the lesson took. “Oh. That.”

  “Yes. That.” He caught a note in her voice that left him wincing. “How could you? How could you tell him something so private?”

  Hurt appeared to be her overriding emotion and it bothered him more than he cared to admit that he was responsible for causing that hurt. He grappled for an ex­cuse—anything—that would set their relationship right again. “Look, sweetheart, he tricked it out of me.” Okay, lame. But desperation did pitiful things to a man.

  “Tricked it out of you? You. Tricked.” Tess must have found the excuse lame, as well. She stared at him with such patent disbelief that it took every ounce of self-possession not to scuff the toe of his shoe like some sort of callow schoolboy. How the hell did she do it? “Now there’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one.”

  He cleared his throat. “Blame it on a late night and not enough coffee this morning.”

  “Stop the games, Shayde.” Hurt turned to irritation. “It’s not like you. With one exception, you’ve always been aboveboard in your dealings with me.”

  One exception? Maybe he’d be better off not asking which exception she meant, considering he could call to mind at least two separate occasions in which he’d been less than totally frank. But since honesty was such a vital issue with her—and usually with him, for that matter—­he’d take a wild stab at an “aboveboard” response.

  “Our engagement was my fault, so I told Gray the truth about what happened. I hoped by warning him in advance that he wouldn’t blame you when we ended our relationship. I didn’t want there to be any question in his mind about where the responsibility fell.”

  His explanation went a long way toward mollifying her. “I should warn you that whatever you told Gray upset him. For some reason he was very concerned about my well-being.”

  “Good. I’m glad he’s concerned about you.” Good? If it was so good, why did Shayde have an overwhelm­ing urge to throw something? He should be delighted that Gray’s protective impulses had kicked in with Tess, instead of reacting like a bull catching the scent of a rival. “You must be pleased he was comfortable enough to call. It puts you on a much friendlier footing. That should prove helpful when you approach him for a do­nation, right?” If his observation held a savage edge, it couldn’t be helped. He felt a bit savage around the edges.

  “No, it’s not helpful and I’m not in the least com­fortable about being on a friendlier footing with Gray. I’m trying to maintain a professional distance here, re­member?” She scrutinized him in a way that had every internal warning system going to red alert. “I wonder what he knows about you that has him so concerned. I don’t suppose you have any idea?”

  “None.” Time to change the subject and fast. “Look, if it makes you feel better, something positive came out of our phone call.” He didn’t wait for her to ask. Better to keep the conversation moving along. “I used my most clever maneuvers and crafty finagling to get my hands on Gray’s schedule for the next few days.”

  To his satisfaction she looked impressed, the last of her anger dying away. “How did you manage to pull that off?”

  He grinned. “I asked him.”

  She stared for a split second, then her mouth twitched and she broke down and laughed. “You’re too clever for me, Shayde. I never would have thought of that op­tion.”

  Her laughter helped ease his tension; soothing some of the primitive urges he’d been fighting ever since they’d first met and enabling him to respond with de­ceptive lightness. “That’s why you hired me, because I’m the best.” Unable to keep his hands off her, he tucked a wayward curl into place. “Gray told me he’s free for lunch on Friday. I booked a table at Milano’s for one o’clock. All you have to do is extend the invi­tation.”

  “What?” she teased. “You didn’t take care of that detail, too?”

  He shrugged. He’d laid the preliminary groundwork to instigate a romance between Tess and Gray. Did he have to serve the woman up on a platter, too? Not a chance in hell. “Hey, it’s your promotion. I know how important it is that you earn it on your own.”

  “And I will.”

  He smiled tenderly. “I don’t doubt that for a minute.” He gestured in the direction of the kitchen. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

  “No, thanks. I’m still floating in coffee from last night.” A frown touched her brow and Shayde released his breath in a silent sigh. He could guess what their next topic of discussion would entail. Sure enough, she glanced at him, a hint of pink riding high on her cheek­bones. “Speaking of last night...”

  His jaw inched out defensively. “Yes, I carried y
ou to your room. And yes, I removed your shoes.”

  “What about my jeans?”

  If his jaw poked out any further he’d dislocate it. “They sort of fell off.”

  “Fell off.” She nodded sagely. “Got it.”

  Perhaps a bit of embellishing was in order. “I guess they don’t make jeans the way they used to. Fall asleep and look what happens.”

  “And did my jeans also fold themselves across my chair?”

  “Technology today.” He shook his head in amaze­ment. “Self-folding jeans. What’s next?”

  “Shayde—”

  Just like that the tenor of the conversation changed. The easy banter faded, replaced by something that sharp­ened the air, a longing that felt both hot and desperate. He couldn’t say what kept him from pulling her into his arms. Perhaps he still possessed some lingering trace of honor or sense of fair play that prevented him from act­ing. More than anything he wanted to kiss her until they completed what had begun the first moment he walked into her office and met her wary gaze. But instead of giving in to the baser side of his nature, he closed his hands into fists and kept his feet planted where they were, fighting the overwhelming impetus to make her his own.

  “I didn’t peek.” All that he couldn’t say burned in his eyes. “But I wanted to. I carried you to your bed­room and saw the inner sanctum. I undressed you as far as I dared. And then I left.”

  “Are you always so noble?”

  It was the wrong thing to ask. He wasn’t the least noble. Lurking beneath the civilized veneer existed feel­ings that stripped him of all control, that reduced him to the most primitive of urges. He wanted Tess. The com­pulsion was so strong he could barely contain it. A des­perate need coalesced into a single imperative-the drive to take what instinct told him was his. This woman be­longed to him, just as he belonged to her. He didn’t understand how he knew. He didn’t have a hope in hell of putting a socially acceptable label on those feelings. He simply accepted the gut-level certainty that without Tess, his life was wrong.

  “Dammit, Tess! Don’t you get it?” he demanded. “I didn’t want to be noble. I wanted to strip you down to nothing and make you mine in every sense of the word. I wanted that engagement ring on your finger to be real.”

  The oddest expression swept across her face. It couldn’t be longing. Not for him. They weren’t meant for each other. “But it isn’t real.”

  “No, it’s not. And you were vulnerable last night. I couldn’t take advantage of you under those circum­stances.”

  It was her turn to offer a tender smile. “You couldn’t take advantage of me under any circumstances.”

  His mouth twisted. “Don’t be so sure. You don’t know me, Tess. There’s a lot I haven’t told you.”

  “Care to fill me in now?” she asked gently.

  He didn’t dare. It would ruin their relationship, not to mention preventing him from completing his job. He couldn’t bring himself to do that. But her question—and the potential ramifications of that question—firmed his resolve. “I think we’d be wise to finish our respective jobs. You have an Impossible to turn. And I—”

  “And you ...what?” She studied him with open cu­riosity. “What do you have to do, Shayde?”

  “I have to help you.” He said it for his own benefit as much as for hers. “And making love to you won’t help.”

  She actually had the nerve to pat his arm. “Don’t feel bad,” she deadpanned. “You can’t be good at every­thing.”

  Hell. “Honey, don’t tempt me to prove you wrong.” He pushed the words out through tightly clamped teeth. “Trust me, it would be a true pleasure.”

  Temptation sparked in her gaze, as well as that strange longing that he’d caught earlier. “I wish—”

  He shook his head. “Don’t say it.”

  She released a soft sigh. “Okay. I won’t. But you can’t stop me from thinking it.”

  Or stop himself, for that matter. He swore beneath his breath. What a mess. How could instigating one simple romance have gone so horribly wrong? And how did he fix it when every fiber of his being urged him to make this woman his before she was taken from him. He draped an arm around her shoulders and opened the door to his apartment.

  “Come on. Let’s get out of here before I do some­thing we’ll both regret.”

  She leaned into his hold. “Now that’s scary,” she murmured.

  “What?”

  She shot him a scorching look. “That was exactly what I was going to say.”

  Okay, so he’d promised himself he wouldn’t show up at the luncheon appointment. He’d sworn up one side and down the other that he’d give Gray a fair shot at Tess. Shayde checked his watch. An hour could be considered a fair shot, right? And if not... His jaw tightened. Tough. He’d waited as long as he could. After all, he was the Instigator. Checking on the development of the romance topped his job description which meant that dropping by House Milano to see how the two of them were getting along fell strictly under the heading of “in the line of duty.”

  He kept up the argument during the entire elevator ride to the restaurant crowning King Tower. Stepping into the marble-floored lobby, he greeted the elderly maitre d’ with a broad smile. “How’s it going, Georgio?”

  “Excellent, Mr.—”

  “Shayde,” he interrupted hastily. Damn. It was a good thing he hadn’t crashed the party when Tess and Gray had first arrived. His cover would have been blown, for sure, and no doubt his adorable employer would have taken him apart piece by painful piece. “It’s Shayde today.”

  “Certainly, sir.”

  Before he could ask about Tess, Gray walked into the lobby from the direction of the main dining area. Catching sight of Shayde, he scowled. “Okay, friend. What the hell’s going on?”

  An irrational anger gripped Shayde. He vaguely re­called owing Gray something. Something to do with Tess—Oh, yeah. A fierce grin split his face. He owed his ol’ buddy a poke in the nose. And he was in the perfect mood to dole it out. “Having a good lunch?” he practically snarled.

  Whether it was his tone or the fact that he’d bunched himself like a tiger about to pounce, he couldn’t say. But one of the two incited Gray to react. In two bounds the two men collided, crashing against the nearest wall.

  “Why are you throwing your fiancee in my face at every opportunity?” Gray demanded.

  Shayde grabbed his former friend by the throat. “Did you touch her? I swear, if you did—”

  “Sure I touched her.” Gray’s blue eyes turned to flame and he bunched his fists around Shayde’s lapels. “The phrase `would you like some sugar’ took on a whole new meaning. We rocked House Milano like it’s never been rocked before.”

  Before Shayde could do more than grit out a single expletive, Georgio appeared at their side. “Gentlemen.” His calmly accented tones washed over them like ice water. “Do not force me to expel two of House Milano’s favorite customers as though you were no better than unruly schoolboys.”

  For an endless minute the two men locked gazes. Slowly, reluctantly, they released each other. “I apolo­gize, Georgio,” Shayde muttered. “I don’t know what got into me.”

  Georgio’s expression turned indulgent. “Redheads were always one of my weaknesses, as well,” he com­mented. “But I believe you’ll find that isn’t the case with Mr. Shaw.” With a final warning look, the maitre d’ returned to his stance behind the reservation desk.

  Gray shook his head, an amused expression sup­planted his anger. “He’s right you know. Tess is drop­dead gorgeous, but she’s not my type. Which brings us to an interesting question...” His gaze grew uncomfort­ably analytical. “Why have you been throwing her at me this past week? If you want me to donate to Altruistics, just ask me.”

  “Okay, fine. How about making a donation?”

  “Done.”

  “Great.” Shayde thrust a hand through his hair. He’d never felt so awkward before in his life. So much for being the smooth-as-silk Instigat
or, gliding behind the scenes and setting romance into motion. “Would it help any if I reminded you she’s not really my fiancee?”

  “Not even a little. Now, give. What’s going on?”

  Shayde released his breath in a sigh. “Not interested. huh?”

  “If there weren’t someone else, I would have been tempted. But no, I’m not interested.” He thumped a fin­ger against Shayde’s chest. “And if I felt toward a woman the way you clearly feel toward your non­fiancee, I’d stop making such an ass out of myself and find a way to turn fantasy into reality.”

  Shayde grimaced. Now why hadn’t he thought of that? “Then you’re out of the picture?”

  “I was never in the picture. Tell Tess I’ll have my people cut her a check first thing next week.” Gray in­clined his head in the direction of the archway leading into the main section of the restaurant. “She’s waiting for you, by the way. I told her you wouldn’t show, but apparently you promised you would and that settled the issue as far as she’s concerned. That’s a lot of faith wrapped up in one woman. I suggest you do everything you can not to destroy it.”

  “I haven’t lied to her.” Not exactly.

  “You think she’ll see it the same way?” Gray didn’t give him time to reply. “Fair warning, Shayde. She’s mad as hell. Not that I blame her. Try coming clean. Who knows? It might work.”

  With that he stepped into an elevator that had just disgorged a earful of customers, leaving Shayde to stare after him. So much for the Committee’s perfect match. What the hell were they thinking? The man didn’t want her. Of course, that meant Gray must be insane. No doubt it wasn’t something the Committee had taken into consideration when they’d picked him.

  Shayde followed the pathway of pink and ivory mar­ble across the lobby and entered the restaurant in search of Tess. He spotted her at a table near the windows. As Gray had warned, she looked annoyed. Temper had given her cheeks a rosy flush and turned her eyes a darker shade of blue. Even her hair looked more fiery than usual. The minute she spotted him, she reached for her glass and took a healthy swig of wine.