by Diane Albert
“Excuse me,” a stiff voice said. “Could you please take this outside?”
Derek stiffened and pulled back. For just a moment his gaze burned her—and then his eyes shuttered, slamming closed like steel doors. Without a word, he took her hand and led her through the crowd to the door. She nearly tripped on her heels, but his grip held her upright.
She felt like everyone in the restaurant was staring at them, and her face heated under their knowing looks. By the time they stepped out into the hot Miami air, she wasn’t sure if she was burning with humiliation or lust. She didn’t even know what he wanted right now—to get away from her as quickly as possible, or to drag her home and make love to her.
But she knew Derek Rory confused the hell out of her, and if she didn’t get her head on straight, she was in trouble.
Chapter Seven
Derek opened the cab door for Stephanie, then slid into the seat after her. He kept his distance. She made him lose control, and he couldn’t afford that. He’d nearly snapped in the restaurant and disgraced himself—and her—in public. He wouldn’t treat her so cheaply.
And he wouldn’t forget his place.
Always be a gentleman in public, or no one will take you seriously in life. His father’s memory was a devil on his shoulder, reminding him how inappropriately he’d behaved. He despised his father and everything he stood for, yet his conditioning still remained. Every time he wanted to relax. Every time he so much as dared to smile. That voice was there, telling him if he wanted to get ahead in the world, he had to forget the joy that had once been in both their lives.
Forget his mother, who’d been just as bright and vivid and full of unrestrained warmth as Stephanie. When his mother had died, his father had changed. He’d forgotten how to live, and it was as if Derek—who took after his mother in coloration, who shared her softly inflected accent—reminded him every day of what he’d lost. His father had done everything he could to eradicate every trace of the woman from her son, under the pretense of preparing him for the business world.
He was starting to think he’d lost something more valuable than a sense of humor.
He was starting to crack. And it was because of Stephanie. Aaron’s sister. Aaron would have him dumped in a federal prison if Derek touched her, and he’d kissed her without a second thought.
In just a few days she had turned him upside down, and he kept going back for more. She drew him in, made him forget his propriety, made him forget everything but how much he wanted her. Even now, the sight of her fiddling with the skirt of her dress roused an unfamiliar fondness, a warmth that felt almost alien. She thought he’d been laughing at her.
No—he’d laughed with her, because of her, simply for the delight of being in her presence.
And it made no sense to him.
He dragged a hand through his hair and made himself break the silence. Made himself speak, with an honesty he was accustomed to repressing. “You’re right about me. I’m too serious. So serious that I don’t normally do things like that.”
She was still trembling. It did nothing for his self-control. “But you just did.”
“But I shouldn’t have.”
She stiffened. “Right. Gotcha loud and clear. Thanks.”
“It isn’t you.”
“Then what?”
“I…” He could hear the loud squeak of his teeth grinding. How could he explain a lifetime of conditioning, when he could barely force two words out? “My father wouldn’t approve of such unseemly behavior.”
“Aren’t you a little old for Daddy issues?”
“Probably.”
“Then stop letting them control you.” She unbuckled and climbed over to him, resting her hand on his chest. “Maybe it’s time to be your own man. Do you even know who you are, under his brainwashing?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” He took a ragged breath. “I thought I did. You confuse that and make me lose my way. When I lose my way, I usually do something stupid and rash.”
She withdrew, leaving him cold, and looked out the window. “Like kissing me?”
“Like kissing you.”
“Ouch.”
“I don’t mean it that way. I just…” He fought to find the right words. “This isn’t how this is meant to work.”
“Then how is it meant to work?”
“I’m doing a favor for my best friend’s little sister. Nothing more.”
Her eyes closed. Her lashes were like crushed black diamonds against her cheeks. “Nothing more.”
“I’m not supposed to feel anything,” he tried to explain.
“So don’t.”
She fixed her gaze out the window. The rest of the cab ride passed in chill silence. The tense set of her shoulders told him everything he needed to know. He’d hurt her. He’d turned something as simple as attraction to a beautiful woman into something more complicated than it needed to be, and he’d hurt her because he needed to keep his careful distance.
How would Aaron feel about that, he wondered—his best friend telling his little sister she wasn’t good enough for his father’s standards?
When the cab stopped, she fumbled for her purse without looking at him. He rested his hand over hers.
“I’ve got it,” he said.
“No. You paid for the cab ride there.” She dug deeper into her purse, the tense line of her jaw trembling. “I’ll handle this.”
She couldn’t afford her rent, but wouldn’t unbend enough to let him take care of the cab? Her pride would be the death of her. He doubted she even had the money in her purse. Without waiting another moment, he pulled a twenty from his breast pocket, passed it to the cabbie, and slipped out of the car before she could manage more than a splutter of protest.
By the time he circled the cab to open the door for her, she was already on the sidewalk and closing her door. Of course. Stubborn thing. He bit back a sudden and unexpected urge to smile. She clutched her file against her chest and worried at her lower lip, her gaze turned on a point somewhere far down the sidewalk.
Away from him.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, her ears turning pink. “I’ll get the next one, though. Whether you like it or not.”
He stepped closer. She was like an undertow, dragging him deep, dragging him into her. “It’s not a problem. I don’t mind helping you.”
She stiffened and backed away from him. “I don’t need help. I can handle things on my own.”
“You have a bit of a complex, bella.”
“Pot. Kettle. Or maybe I should come up with some endearing name for you.” Her lower lip thrust out. “Rhino sounds about right. Big, dumb, obstinate, and slow.”
“The rhinoceros is actually a very fast-moving creature.” He refused to let her retreat, and took a swift step closer. “Shall I demonstrate?”
“No!” She gripped her file folder against her like a desperate shield, her eyes round, glimmering in the soft light of the street lamps. “I…I mean…that’s not necessary. I believe you. What are you, a narrator for Animal Planet?”
“You’re a horrible subject-changer.”
“Is that even a word?”
He considered this, then nodded. “It is now.”
She took another step back. Her feet tangled like they were on a tripwire, and she dipped with a little shriek. He moved without thinking. One arm looped around her waist, pulling her flush against him. The other caught the folder before she could drop it, and pressed it securely against her chest. Through the manila, her heartbeat thumped against his palm, wild and ragged. She stared up at him, breathless, her body stiff and so very deliciously curved against him.
“Thanks,” she whispered, her tongue darting over her lips.
“Klutz,” he murmured, and followed every damp trail left by her tongue until he’d nearly memorized the curve of her mouth. She chuckled, throaty and sweet.
“Thought you knew that already.”
“Thought you didn’t need help.”
“If the
choice is between this and leaving a bloody smear on the pavement, I’ll take this.” Her eyes drifted over his face. Under the street lamps, they were nearly silver. “You…you can let me go now.”
The flutter of her breath against her throat compelled him. Her throat fascinated him, sleek and soft and vulnerable, waiting to be kissed until she threw her head back and arched her neck, inviting him, needing him. He could almost taste her, his mouth tingling with the need.
“Derek…?” she breathed.
He pulled back to his senses sharply as a slap. She was still watching him, waiting. Trembling. The temptation was almost too great, and only a supreme effort of will allowed him to release her, step back, put distance between them.
The sweltering Miami night was almost too cool against his overheated skin, and though he forced his voice to steady, he couldn’t take his gaze away from her. Detachment. He needed detachment. “Would you like me to go over Wheeler’s file with you? I might know a thing or two about marketing.”
Her gaze flickered with…was that disappointment? “Speaking of changing subjects…so much for the ever-obstinate rhino.”
He chuckled. “Can you be serious for one second of your life?”
“Tonight? No. Not after finding out my so-called fiancé is practically Bruce Wayne.” She looked away from him. The flush in her cheeks tempted him to do terrible things. “Do you have a Batmobile, too?”
“Hm?”
“Bat-mo-bile. Black. Spiky. Goes vroom-vroom. Sometimes has a flamethrower. I think I want one for our wedding.”
He said nothing. He was distracted by her lips, how they moved, how they shaped sounds that had less and less meaning with every moment, when all he could think about was how close he’d come to claiming that soft mouth again.
“Derek…?”
He dragged his gaze away from her mouth. Her eyes were no less alluring, wide and smoky and confused. Her hands trembled subtly against the file folder. Could she feel it? Could she feel how deeply she affected him?
“Right.” Focus. Focus. His voice came out hoarse, each word scraping against his dry throat. “Batman wedding. My Little Pony honeymoon. Do you want me to look at the file or not?”
It took a few moments for her to answer. She watched him as if she expected something from him, then abruptly looked away with a scowl, her blush deepening. “Is it sunny at night?”
“During an Alaskan summer.”
She threw her hands up—and nearly dropped the file folder. “First it’s Animal Planet, now it’s National Geographic.” She fished her keys from her purse. Her movements were uncoordinated, her fingers still shaking. “I can do it—”
“—by yourself. I thought so.”
Their gazes locked. He could think of one thing she would accept from him. One thing he could offer her. But what good would it do? He had to return to D.C. soon. Hell, he was supposed to go back tomorrow, and now he would have to call his office and make up some kind of excuse. He wasn’t the kind of CEO who took off for week-long trips to Cancun on a whim. People expected him to be there. People depended on him.
Just like Stephanie was depending on him now.
She ducked her head. Her eyes flicked to his mouth. The air between them sizzled, crackled, grew tighter, as if the very atmosphere urged them closer. He clenched his hands into fists and stepped back, breaking the spell.
“Goodnight, Miss Miller.”
She smiled, a bit sadly. “No more bella?”
“Not tonight. I’ve been too forward already.”
“…yeah.” She swallowed and dropped her gaze. “Goodnight, then.”
She turned and walked away from him, while he stood immobile and cursed his damned restraint. She vanished up the steps and into her building. For one impulsive moment, Derek pictured himself following her up the stairs and pulling her into his arms, just for one night. Just to get her out of his system.
But he was starting to think that wasn’t possible.
…
“It’s been four days.” Aaron’s voice came through the speaker on Derek’s cellphone, clipped and cold with an echoing trace of static that hinted at some kind of signal interference. “You were supposed to go sightseeing. Not get engaged.”
Derek leaned back in his seat and watched the ocean from the balcony of his hotel room—a wash of gold and blue and green, sky and sand and sea blending together into a vivid explosion of color so ultra-real it burned his eyes. His laptop was open on the patio table, but he hadn’t looked at his CFO’s variance reports in a good hour.
“Tapping my phone now?” he asked.
“Satellite surveillance.”
“Where are you?”
“Somewhere where it isn’t illegal to kill people for touching my sister.”
“She needed help. It was an accident, and if it helps her at work…” Even if it was sending his work into a tailspin. He’d called the office that morning, and they were losing their minds, panicking right before a major acquisitions deal. His VP was more than capable of handling it, but they were used to Derek having a hand in everything. Maybe a little too used to it. He’d been nannying competent people so much, he’d probably made it impossible for them to do their jobs without going through his red tape.
He closed his eyes. Maybe he could get used to this life—the sound of the sea whispering over him, the hot sun beating down on his face, Stephanie tripping over the sidewalk until he wanted nothing more than to hold her and keep her safe.
But he wouldn’t be here if not for his business trip—the business trip he’d been neglecting, his “market analysis” little more than a newly-acquired knowledge of local takeout joints—and he couldn’t let his company flounder for the sake of an indulgence.
Aaron pulled him from his reverie with a sigh. “Is her boss bullying her again?”
“That’s a kind word for it.”
“I keep telling her she needs to get out of there.”
“That’s a decision she needs to make for herself.” Derek sighed and opened his eyes again. “Neither you nor I can make it for her.”
After a silence, Aaron said, “You like her.”
“As if that wasn’t your intent all along.”
“I’m as innocent as a judge.”
“The phrase is ‘sober as a judge,’ and you are neither.” He wouldn’t put it past Aaron to set them up. He wasn’t a bad boy, after all. Not Stephanie’s type—even if she tempted him to be a very, very bad man.
His phone beeped. He glanced at the caller ID. Stephanie, calling as if thinking of her had summoned her. “I have another call incoming. Stay safe, Aaron.”
“You want me dead. Because if I come back alive, you’ll wish I’d been shot down over North Korea by the time I’m done with you.”
“I think you just violated about six different Homeland Security information acts.” Derek chuckled. “Goodbye.”
He hung up before he caught more than the beginning of a “Fu—” and caught the incoming call a second away from hanging up.
“Good afternoon, bella.”
“Hello, dear,” Stephanie said, her voice light. “Miss me?”
“Like the deserts miss the rain.”
She laughed. “I’m divorcing you just for quoting that song.”
“Divorce before the marriage. That has to be a record.”
“I’ve always liked to be efficient.”
He waited her out. She’d been so adamant about not needing him, she must have waited to call until she had absolutely no choice. It had been three days—and it had been irritating as hell when he’d realized he’d been counting. He’d missed her. Missed laughing with her. It made a difference, and left an emptiness behind when she wasn’t there.
He couldn’t let her be this important to him, this quickly.
Finally she said, “Are you busy right now?”
“Only if torturing Aaron is a full-time job.”
“…an unlisted number is calling me. He’s the only unlisted
number that ever calls me. What did you do?”
He grimaced. “I didn’t have to do anything. He knows everything.”
She groaned. “I might have to start taking him seriously about that surveillance crap. I’m not answering it. He can stew. Or eavesdrop, since he’s so nosy.” She paused. He heard the sound of a copier with its repetitive click-shush. “Don’t you answer, either. Let him suffer.”
“Deal.”
“So…” Her breath was loud through the speaker. “Are you doing anything tonight?”
He took his time answering. “I have a date.”
“…oh.” She sounded so crestfallen he almost wished he hadn’t said it. “You met someone that fast?”
“It’s a long-term thing, really. Her name is Sofia. Have you ever seen Modern Family?”
Dead silence—and then she spluttered. “You are such a dick! Why couldn’t you just say you’re going to sit on your ass and watch TV?”
“This way was more amusing.”
“You—I—never mind. I don’t want to see you. Forget I called.”
“Bella…” He laughed. “I’m teasing. You like me when I tease, yes?”
“…maybe not so much when you tease me,” she grumbled.
“But you wanted to see me.”
She let out a huffy sound. “God. You are just so—hmph. Whatever. Meet me at my place at five. I’m getting out of here soon.”
“Was that an order, or a reasonable request?”
He could practically feel her glare through the phone. “I’m hanging up on you now. My place. Five. Bring a bathing suit.”
“Wait.” He sat up straighter. “Bathing suit? You didn’t say anything about swimming.”
“Problem?”
“I don’t have a suit with me.”
“You’re rich. This is Miami. If you wanted to you could buy every bathing suit in the city. Or blow your entire fortune on a pair of couture Versace trunks.”
He covered his face with his palm. “You’re impossible.”