Once Upon a Valentine

by Stephanie Bond

  Not helpful, Ginger’s libido.

  The last thing she needed was to fall completely for Stephen. It was bad enough to be stood up by a blind date, but it would be much worse to lose her heart to someone who only thought of her as a good friend.

  Stephen was too important to her. She couldn’t risk losing him over unprofessional behavior. Letting herself fall in love with her boss, even if that boss was her best friend, wasn’t a good idea. Not now, not ever.

  The subway came to a stop. She didn’t look at him again as they got off the car, except to send a quick glance over her shoulder to ensure he was following her as the subway pulled away. They’d been the only ones to get off at this stop and were otherwise alone in this part of the station.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked tentatively.

  His jaw was tight. “I kissed you.”

  “I know. You already apologized.”

  “I’m not sorry I did it.”

  She stopped walking and turned around, looking up into his troubled blue eyes. She knew he’d regret saying these things to her tomorrow. “Maybe I should go home. You can deal with Jorgensen yourself. Tell him you couldn’t find me.”

  He shook his head. “Jorgensen wants what he wants.”

  “I know, but…he might be affected by this, too.”

  “We’ll make it a short meeting. Besides, if you leave, I’d worry about you facing a gauntlet of marriage proposals on the way home. If I’m feeling like this, then I can’t imagine what’s going through the other men’s minds. Scratch that, I can imagine. All too well. You might not be safe if you’re not with me.”

  “The question is, am I safe with you?” she asked, holding his gaze.

  It took him a moment to answer. “Of course you are.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “So you’re my knight in shining armor right now?”

  “An extremely horny knight in shining armor who is having a difficult time thinking about anything but ravishing you. But yeah, I guess I am.”

  She couldn’t help but grin. “Ravishing me? I thought you published kids books, not romance novels.”

  “Maybe I need to think about broadening my publishing schedule.” He swallowed hard. “Can you do me a favor, though?”

  “Sure.” She felt breathless suddenly.

  “No eye contact.”

  “Who, with Jorgensen?”

  “No, with me. The longer you look at me, the less able I am to control whatever this is.”

  Ginger’s heart pounded hard in her chest at the thought of Stephen unable to control himself around her.

  “I’m just having trouble believing this,” she said. “You want me.”

  He looked at her sternly. “You’re still looking in my eyes, Ginger.”

  “You have nice eyes.”

  “You’re not making this easy for me.”

  She moved closer to him and pressed her hand against his chest to feel how fast his heart was beating. This was how she’d always fantasized he would look at her—this heat, this need. “You said yourself I’m safe with you. I trust you.”

  “You should never play with fire, even if it promises not to burn.”

  She wanted him. Right here and right now. The thought made her breath catch.

  It would be so easy to forget everything, to let this happen. To throw caution and better judgment aside and to pull off his shirt and unzip his pants; to feel him against her. To guide him slowly inside her.

  If he’d only stop looking at her as though he wanted to devour her, she might be able to restrain herself.

  Nobody had ever looked at her with this much raw desire in their eyes. Not ex-boyfriends, not the other bespelled men tonight, not even the men in her most erotic fantasies.

  Was she absolutely certain she felt safe with Stephen Fox?

  Did she even want to feel safe with him?

  “After this meeting is over…” He looked at her hand, which was slowly trailing downward, over his hard, ridged abdomen easily felt through his thin white shirt. His jacket was wide-open despite the chill of the night.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m going to take you as fast as I can—”

  She held her breath, wanting to hear him say it. For him to say something naughty and uncontrollable. She might completely lose any inhibitions she had left then.

  “—back to that goddamned café where we’ll get some answers about how to break this spell. It can’t wait till midnight.”

  Disappointment flowed through her, but it worked like a cold glass of water tossed in the general direction of her growing lust for him.

  She pulled her hand away just as it had reached his leather belt. “Fine. Then let’s get this meeting over with.”

  3

  STEPHEN DIDN’T THINK it was all that professional to arrive at a business meeting with a raging hard-on, but there wasn’t exactly much he could do about it at this point except try to hide it.

  He forced himself to think about baseball, about cold showers, about anything nonsexual he could bring to mind, but nothing worked.

  Instead he thought about the taste of Ginger’s mouth, the feel of her warm hands sliding down the front of him and the whisper of desire he’d clearly seen in her green eyes that had made him more aroused than he’d ever been in his entire life.

  What he normally felt for her, what he hid from the world and from her, was all on the surface now, as if he’d been turned inside out. It felt vulnerable, it felt uncontrollable, it felt…wild. Especially when he’d seen his own need reflected in her eyes.

  He wasn’t sure if it had been his imagination, but she’d kissed him back. He desperately wanted to feel her fingers slide down his stomach again and continue downward to wrap around his hard cock. To feel her lips and tongue take over as she sank to her knees in front of him and took him into her mouth…

  A new subject to occupy his brain—not that much blood was flowing there at the moment—would be an excellent idea. He was a professional. So he would act professional, even under duress.

  And this was definitely duress. Times a thousand.

  Stephen didn’t believe in magic, or at least he hadn’t until tonight. He had believed in it back when he was just a kid. His father was a magician, doing card tricks and pulling flowers out of hats. Dressed up like a clown, he’d often been hired to be the entertainment at kids’ birthday parties. It felt very real at the time, but now Stephen knew it wasn’t. His father’s disappearing act just before Stephen’s tenth birthday had shattered any of Stephen’s remaining belief in magic—or, upon witnessing his mother’s heartbreak, in the possibility of true and everlasting love. His father had reappeared in Reno with another family a couple years later and made a few sheepish phone calls to his confused and hurt son to explain that it was all for the best.

  Stephen had worked two part-time jobs while going to school to help his mother with the bills. He’d had absolutely no time to devote to a social life back then. What little time he did have for entertainment during his teens, he’d spent reading books—fantasies that helped him escape his regular life.

  He’d written an essay about his love of books that landed him a scholarship, that helped earn him a degree, that helped get him an intern job at a publishing house where he learned the business from the ground up. It eventually gave him the courage to make a go of it on his own.

  All from hard work and luck. Magic had nothing to do with it.

  But this…what was happening with Ginger…this might make him believe in fairy dust again. Because this sure wasn’t normal.

  He’d told her he loved her. It had just spilled from his mouth as if it was something he was actually capable of feeling for anyone.

  For Ginger. Especially for Ginger.

  Just what was that Valentine Café all about, anyway?

  Meeting with the author tonight had become an annoying gauntlet he needed to race through quickly before he could focus on what really mattered.

  She hadn’t t
ouched him since the subway station, which was a good thing. He didn’t think he could handle the feel of her hands on him at this point. It was normally difficult being around her without fantasizing about tearing her clothes off and taking her on the Red Fox boardroom table, but this went beyond any fantasy.

  She’s safe with me, he reminded himself again and again.

  He knocked on the hotel-room door. It took a minute before it swung open and Jorgensen peered out at them.

  “Finally,” he said grumpily. “I thought I’d have to wait all damn night.”

  Stephen forced a smile to his face and stretched out his hand. “Good to see you, Robert.”

  He did get a handshake in return, which was encouraging. “Hphmmph.”

  Jorgensen swept a glance over Ginger, and Stephen watched for any sign that he was affected by the—for lack of a better term—cookie magic. While the man’s eyes did glance over Ginger’s short, tight black dress and long, sexy bare legs—why was she bare legged in February?—under her cream-colored winter coat, he didn’t immediately lunge for her.

  Encouraging.

  Maybe the magic was wearing off. Then again, he felt it as strong as ever, so it probably wasn’t.

  Maybe Jorgensen was gay.

  Please, God, Stephen thought, let him be gay.

  It wasn’t a prayer he’d ever made before, but there was a first time for everything.

  “Can we come in?” Ginger asked.

  “No,” Jorgensen said bluntly. “I want to go downstairs for a drink. The room service here is atrocious. I ordered dinner fifteen minutes ago and it hasn’t arrived yet.”

  Since room service rarely arrived in fifteen minutes anywhere, this wasn’t unexpected.

  Stephen fought to keep the smile on his face. “Fair enough.”

  Moving Ginger to his left in a manner that had her brush torturously up against him—bad idea—Stephen followed Jorgensen back to the elevator and down to the main level lobby bar where they got a booth and ordered drinks from the cocktail waitress.

  Stephen was finding it difficult to keep his attention on his troublesome author and not on the beautiful redhead who now sat between him and Jorgensen. Her dress was very low cut and showed off her smooth, creamy skin and a generous amount of cleavage—a sight that made him even harder than he already was. Her tight dress easily revealed the curve of her ass that he always fought to avoid staring at during office hours. Everything about the woman next to him drew his gaze and directed his thoughts in a very unbusinesslike direction. By the high color in her cheeks, he wondered if she might be able to read his mind right now or if it was just that damn obvious what he was thinking.

  He wanted her. She knew it.

  But at the moment—in the midst of magic and desire—they were stuck in a business meeting. On Valentine’s Day.

  He forced himself to look at his troublesome author. In his midthirties, just like him, Jorgensen was better looking than his demeanor suggested. He rarely did personal appearances. It gave him a mysterious edge to his author persona. It was obvious to Stephen now that it was purposeful. If kids caught a glimpse of the sour man behind the fun books, it might affect his sales.

  “So, you want me,” Jorgensen began. He was looking at Ginger and it took a moment for Stephen to realize that he didn’t mean it in a crude, sexual way. In fact, at a glance it seemed as if the author was utterly and thankfully unaffected by the cookie magic.

  Wish I could say the same, Stephen thought.

  His cock twitched.

  Behave yourself, he told it.

  It didn’t listen very well.

  “I…” Ginger began, with a careful look at Stephen. “We really cherish your books at Red Fox. And we sincerely hope that you will sign the new contract. We know we can do great things for the future of the Blue Monster Mysteries.”

  “Mmm.” Jorgensen slid his index finger absently around the edge of his whiskey sour. “My agent feels the same way. He regrets he was unable to join us here, but he had a prior engagement.”

  Normally it was the agent who was the cutthroat, the difficult cog in the wheel, but in Jorgensen’s case…

  Just keep reminding yourself what Jorgensen’s books mean to the future of Red Fox Publishing. Without him, you’ve got nothing.

  That didn’t exactly put him in a position of power at this very moment and that bothered him deeply.

  “Since you came to Red Fox for your last three books, your series has only gained momentum,” Stephen said. It seemed like a good place to start.

  “Damn right it has. I’ve done well due to the power of my writing and through the enthusiasm of my fans. Now my question to you is—why should I continue on with Red Fox Publishing? What can you do for me that I couldn’t receive elsewhere?”

  “One-on-one attention from your editor. Cover consultation—”

  “Approval,” Jorgensen interrupted. “I want cover approval, not just consultation. If you’d seen some of my covers in the past…monkeys wearing mittens at the keyboard could put together something better.”

  Stephen and Ginger exchanged another glance and he tried not to smile. “I assure you, Red Fox is not currently employing any mitten-wearing monkeys in our art department.”

  Jorgensen signaled the waitress to bring over another round of drinks before returning his attention to Stephen. “You need me, don’t you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’ve seen the numbers. Your business is flailing. I’m not surprised. Publishing as a whole is having a difficult time transitioning into this new era. You either evolve or you die. It’s like anything, Fox. Plants, animals, people, publishing. How do I know that Red Fox is a publishing house capable of evolving?”

  Stephen’s jaw clenched. This guy was even more smug than he was on the phone. He knew from the moment they’d met that Jorgensen was the type of person who only wanted people to agree with him and to stroke his bloated ego at every opportunity. He was, quite frankly, the sort of person Stephen despised.

  But despising a bestselling author when you owned and operated a “flailing” publishing house wasn’t a very good business decision.

  Worries about his business were almost enough to take his attention temporarily away from the beautiful and desirable woman seated so close to him that he could feel the warmth of her body.

  Almost. His body burned for hers. Every single inch of him was on fire.

  “I assure you,” Stephen said slowly, “that Red Fox is evolving. And we want you to be a part of it.”

  Jorgensen snorted. “It must be amazing for you to get the chance to publish my books. The money they make for you means everything, doesn’t it?”

  I so hate you.

  Stephen struggled hard to keep the smile on his face. “I won’t lie to you, it does. You have a dedicated editor in Ginger who will continue to work with you personally. You are welcome to contact me at any hour of the day with any problem you might have. And, yes, I will give you cover approval. That, plus our generous offer—”

  “It wasn’t that generous,” Jorgensen said flippantly as he leaned back in the booth. “I mean, it was decent, but I’m not shouting from the rooftops, here.”

  Ginger stayed quiet, letting Stephen do the talking. She took a sip from her wineglass in front of her and then stared down into the contents as if it might hold the answers to the universe.

  Damn, she’s so beautiful. It made his heart hurt.

  “Do you think it’s a generous offer?” Jorgensen asked her.

  Her shoulders tensed. “I do.”

  “Tell me what you think about your boss here. The honest truth. I’ll know if you’re lying.”

  Ginger placed her glass gently down on the tabletop and was quiet for a moment before looking into Stephen’s eyes. “He’s amazing.”

  Now his heart began to sing.

  “Can you be a bit more specific?”

  “Stephen Fox makes coming to work every day a pleasure. He’s kind, he’s considerate,
he’s generous, and because of this, I know I work harder every single day I’m there. It’s made me love working at Red Fox, and I would do anything to make sure things turn out right for Stephen and his company.”

  “That’s a bit more specific,” Jorgensen said after a moment. “If painfully professional.”

  “How else would I be but professional?”

  “How do you feel about Fox here on a personal level?” Jorgensen asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re here on Valentine’s Day with him on very short notice. Am I to take it to mean that the two of you have a personal relationship outside of the office?”

  “That’s none of your—” Stephen blurted, but Ginger placed her hand on his to stop him from saying anything else. The feel of her skin against his cut his words off. A shiver went up his arm and then swirled around his heart before heading straight south to his crotch.

  This was absolute torture.

  “I consider Stephen a very good friend,” Ginger said firmly, without taking her hand away from his. He found it difficult to breathe and his body ached with the need to touch her, to taste her…

  “Friend,” Jorgensen repeated. “So there’s nothing more personal between you? You’re not romantically involved?”

  “Why do you need to know this?” Stephen demanded, his voice now hoarse.

  “Call me curious.”

  “We’re not romantically involved,” Ginger confirmed. “Just good friends and business associates.”

  Jorgensen’s gaze rested on her hand on Stephen’s before she finally pulled it away. It took everything in him not to reach out and recapture it, to entwine his fingers with hers. At that moment, Stephen blamed this author for every misery he’d ever had in his lifetime.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Jorgensen said.

  “Why?” Ginger asked.

  “Because…” He hesitated only briefly. “Because I want you for myself. Today, tomorrow and always.”

  “Oh, shit,” she said.

  4