The CEO's Dilemma ; Undeniable Passion

by Lindsay Evans

  “I’ll come with you.” Ahmed put a light hand on her arm. “I’d love to hear more about this building. It’s nice to look at but what more is there?”

  Elle’s deceptively soft eyes skimmed over the couple wanting Aisha’s time. “I’ll come along, too.”

  Patrick’s eyes glinted with amusement. The two weren’t fooling anyone. “The more, the merrier.”

  Emersyn laughed outright. “Come along, then.”

  Ahmed and Elle walked just behind them, never too far behind, quietly talking to each other but always keeping an eye on how the strangers interacted with Aisha.

  It wasn’t until they had seen the building from nearly every angle—inside, outside in the warm night air so they could appreciate the rainbow of lights glowing in the wings, and now upstairs to the lofted space that ran the entire second level—that things began to fall into place. Emersyn and Patrick’s accents. The questions they were asking. Even the rapt attention they each paid to her every answer. “Emersyn Rankin and Patrick Sebastian.” Aisha barely stopped herself from saying their names in a kind of awe.

  The corners of Patrick’s mouth curved up and Emersyn laughed for the second time in an hour. “Those are our names, yes,” she said.

  They were two-thirds of Rankin, Sebastian and Ziegler, one of the most powerful and influential architectural firms in the world.

  When Aisha had first thought of going after the very best firm, she’d considered applying with them. But they’d only had offices in Tokyo, Dubai, Accra and Paris at the time. It was only since she’d been at Wainwright and Tully that they had opened an office in Atlanta.

  By that point, being with Wainwright and Tully had drained a lot of her spirit and, embarrassingly enough, she’d even lost some of her earlier self-confidence. Yes, WT had offered her an office, but it seemed to come with the understanding that the tiny room was all she would get and all she deserved while churning out designs of gas stations or completing the finishing touches to another architect’s work in the firm while he—and it was almost always a he—went on to do something more important.

  “What are you both doing here?” Aisha asked then could’ve smacked herself in the forehead. She bit her tongue but kept going. “I thought you both worked out of one of the foreign offices.”

  “We do,” Emersyn said. “But then we heard about an interesting new talent right here in our American backyard and had to investigate for ourselves.”

  Oh my God!

  A moment later Aisha realized that her mouth was hanging wide open. She snapped it shut with an embarrassingly loud click. “You’re talking about me, aren’t you?”

  Emersyn’s dark eyes flashed with amusement. “Yes, we are, Ms. Clark.”

  Behind her, she heard the whispered conversation of her brother and his wife, noticed them falling back a bit more to offer her the privacy she now needed. Her cheeks felt hot and her heart pounded a thousand beats a minute. Emersyn Rankin and Patrick Sebastian, here, and interested in her and the building she’d designed.

  If somebody didn’t pinch her quick, she was going to pass out. Dev would never forgive her if she took a header off the loft and went splat, humiliating her at her own gallery opening.

  “There you are, Aisha.” Roman suddenly appeared at her side. “I was beginning to think I’d have to send a search party after you.” His eyes narrowed as he locked gazes with Aisha who, she was sure, looked shocked and about to vomit. He put a protective hand on the small of her back. “Is everything all right here?”

  At the sound of Roman’s deep, soothing voice, the hurricane-force winds of wild emotions drained away, leaving Aisha as limp as a rose in the heat of a Georgia summer. Immediately, Roman’s firm arms tightened around her, keeping her on her feet, and she leaned all the way into him.

  Her nose immediately sought out the cool and spicy scent of his aftershave.

  God, this man is magic.

  “I’m more than fine,” she finally managed to say even though her voice sounded breathy and high, doing a damn good impression of a Southern belle having an attack of the vapors. “I’m now officially freakin’ awesome.”

  Chapter 14

  When she thought about Roman, Aisha tried not to grin like an idiot.

  Although they hadn’t made any promises to each other, she and Roman had been texting each other a few times every day with jokes and random observations about their days. Once Roman even sent her the link to the yoga retreat his company was planning for the next year in South Africa, asking what she thought of the trip. Their connection was unexpected and powerful. Something Aisha never had before with a man.

  After Devyn’s successful gallery opening and the shock of Emersyn and Patrick’s interest in her work, the night had seemed too incredible to be real. Afterward, she and Roman had sat in his truck in the parking lot and watched the lights flash and glow in the building. They’d talked about a million little things, including his surprise at seeing his best friend, Merrine, at the opening.

  In the end, Aisha and Roman had been too tired to do more than kiss like horny but exhausted teenagers in her doorway before he drove away at nearly four in the morning. He and Merrine already had plans to meet up at the crack of dawn for a mountain hike.

  Friday evening Aisha sat at her drafting table, frowning down at her new plans for the Sykes Prize, pencil in hand.

  She nearly jumped out of her skin when the phone rang. Still looking at the design spread out on the drafting table, she fumbled in the pocket of her robe for the phone.

  “Hello?” At best, the only people she expected to call at this time of night were her family. Or, not as nice, boundary-less work colleagues. Senior architects from the firm had taken to calling her at all hours lately, demanding more and more ridiculous things she was sure were designed to take her time from the Sykes project.

  “You sound distracted,” Roman said to her through the phone.

  Oh. Just that quickly, she wasn’t distracted at all.

  “I’m not now.” Smiling, Aisha put the pencil down and tied the silky robe more securely around her waist. “To what do I deserve the honor of your call at—” she looked at the wall clock she passed on the way to the living room from her office “—eight thirty at night?”

  “It’s not booty call hours yet, is it?” he asked with laughter in his voice.

  “You tell me. I’m not the kind to make or get those types of phone calls, Mr. Sykes.”

  “For some reason, I don’t believe you.”

  “Well, I’m just telling you about my life now, not before.” Aisha sat on the sofa and stretched out her legs. It should scare her that she’d already clearly delineated her life in terms of after Roman and before. Eloise came out of nowhere, purring her head off. She leaped onto the sofa and made herself comfortable on Aisha’s lap.

  Aisha nearly sighed like an infatuated school girl at the sound of Roman’s warm, deep laughter.

  “Well, I’m not calling you for that, just to talk. Your record of no booty calls since we met is still safe.”

  “Too bad,” she said, grinning up at the ceiling. “So if not my booty, what’s on your mind?” Eloise uncoiled herself in Aisha’s lap and the cat walked up to her chest, meowing as if she knew her favorite new man was on the phone. With her feline hearing, she probably knew very well it was Roman on the line. Aisha ran a hand down the cat’s sinuous back.

  Roman’s low sigh ribboned out of the phone to brush her ear. “It’s been a long day and I’ve already bothered Merrine about my life for the moment, so I thought of you.”

  “I’m second place, am I?”

  “Never. Just someone I want to talk to instead of bitchin’ about something you’ve already heard about a million times.” The sound of glass on glass came at her through the phone, then liquid being poured.

  “Fair enough, but just so you know, I’ve been k
nown to have open and nonjudgmental ears to a round of bitchin’. In fact, I’ll say that said bitchin’ only makes you human and not some yoga god sent to us mere mortals from a super-flexible alternate universe.”

  He laughed again. “Why don’t you tell me about your day instead?”

  “Nice deflection.” Aisha smiled into the phone. “My day was my day. Boring and filled with work. Although I did make a detour to that teahouse where you and I met up the other day. I had a very relaxing few hours just thinking about nothing.”

  “Good. I’m happy you did. That place is great. It’s saved my sanity a few times.”

  “And today, what kind of insanity did you deal with?”

  His laughter was rueful. “You’re determined to get me to spill my guts, aren’t you?”

  “I am. And I won’t even be subtle about it.”

  “Fine.” He blew out a low breath. “It’s my assistant. Or I should say my father’s assistant? She’s being more of a burden than a help. Although there’s no point in replacing her, she’s pressing all my buttons lately.”

  “Why do you think there’s no point in replacing her?”

  He paused as if he wasn’t sure about telling her that much about his life. Aisha’s belly sank. She just opened her mouth to tell him “never mind” when he spoke again.

  “I won’t be CEO of Sykes for more than a year. My brother will take over the company soon and will likely choose his own assistant. I don’t want to hire someone who might only have the job for less than a year.”

  What? “Are you stepping down?”

  “I am, yes. Circumstances beyond my control will force me to stay on longer than I’d like, but I’m passing the company to Lance as soon as I’m able.”

  Wow. Aisha frowned. For some reason, the thought of Lance Sykes as the head of Sykes Global wasn’t a comforting one. But it wasn’t her company. She turned her thoughts back to what Roman had said.

  “No matter how short your time in the CEO chair, you shouldn’t inconvenience yourself because of someone else.” Aisha scratched behind Eloise’s ears, smiling when her cat began to purr even louder. “A good assistant can help things in your office run more smoothly, which makes your time in that office more effective. If you won’t replace her for yourself, get rid of her for the company’s sake.”

  “I was afraid you’d say something like that,” he said.

  “Ah, I see. You know exactly what to do then. You just want someone to talk you out of it.”

  “Something like that.” Roman laughed.

  “Well, that won’t be me. Sometimes I’m actually very sensible.” She grinned down at the purring Eloise, remembering just how intensely she had pursued Roman despite how much sense it made not to. “But only sometimes.”

  His agreement hummed through the phone. “Sensible days or not, I enjoy talking to you. Every time.” His voice was low and intimate, hinting at other things he enjoyed about her. Every syllable he uttered melted her a little bit more.

  “Damn, why does this have to be a non-booty call?” Aisha groaned.

  The sudden silence on the other end of the line threatened to give her stomach a cramp of anxiety.

  “Things can change, you know,” Roman finally said.

  Aisha swallowed thickly and shoved down the part of herself that warned her against being too bold, too straightforward. “Does this mean you’ve given up the idea that I’m too young for you?”

  “Not at all,” Roman said, his voice a deep growl. “It just means I’m weak and completely susceptible to your charms.” He paused again. “I want you, Aisha. Come to me. Please.”

  “I can be at your place in less than an hour,” she said, already lifting Eloise off of her. If that made her desperate, she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

  Chapter 15

  Although Aisha had lived in Atlanta for most of her life, this was her first time driving through the back roads of stately and moneyed Virginia–Highland, the area away from the restaurants, trendy shops and artisanal pubs that made up the popular strip. After breaking the speed limit leaving her house, she forced herself to drive more sensibly, especially when she arrived in the maze of houses that was the Virginia–Highland neighborhood. The houses looked homey and unassuming, but she knew the property values were high. Many, with modest wooden gates shielding the homeowners from the naked glare of the street, loomed high on hillocks with lights glowing from inside. That was one of the houses that Roman lived in.

  Before he’d given her his address, she’d assumed he’d resided in a midtown penthouse. A high tower of glass overlooking the city and with an uneclipsed view of the sun’s movement across the sky.

  Now as she pulled up into the small, semicircular drive framed by well-manicured grass and small, smooth-barked trees, she was surprised. She shut the engine off and wiped nervous palms on her thighs. She felt every touch of her hands through the thin dress she wore. But she only had a moment to suffer in her nervousness before the front door, up a short incline and at the top of a half dozen steps beyond a screened-in porch, opened. Roman stepped out.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he said.

  She sighed out a breath.

  He was understated and handsome in a gray tank top and workout pants. Both were loose on his body but did nothing to hide the muscles of his chest, the thickness of his sex and the power in his firm thighs.

  Damn. “I’m not here yet, just—” she huffed out a deep breath, unable to hide her nervousness for once “—just making my way in.” This was just sex anyway. It wouldn’t make or break what was between them. But even as she told herself that, she didn’t believe a single word.

  Forcing herself forward on the course she’d decided on, she grabbed her oversize leather bag and left the car to meet him.

  Roman pushed the door open wider and held out a hand. “Come in.”

  Trembling deep inside, she grasped that big, warm hand of his and stepped over the threshold. “Thank you.”

  “For having you?” he teased. He took her bag and hung it on the nearby coatrack.

  The living room was dim. Aisha had a vague impression of dark furniture, wide windows and pale walls before Roman reclaimed all of her attention. She bit her lip and smiled. “I guess you’re in a playful mood, huh?”

  “Right now, I’m in a few different moods.” He scratched at the faint stubble on his jaw and closed the door behind them. The door took his weight as he leaned back and, with her hand still in his, tugged her against his broad chest. “Including uncertain as hell.” His hands rested on her waist, lightly caressing her from ribs to hips. “I shouldn’t want you like this, but...” Through their clothes, he felt like a furnace. A hard, beautiful furnace. “I’m weak.”

  “You’re not weak.” Still trembling, but for a different reason now, she shook her head and leaned more into him. “You’re gorgeous, you’re strong, you’re sexy.” Her truth spilled from her lips and all over him. “You’re all that and more, and you’re right, maybe what we’re doing isn’t the smartest thing. But I’m too selfish to let you go.”

  “Thank God for your selfishness and my foolishness,” he said just before their lips met in a kiss.

  It started gently. An exploration of firm flesh, a soft sigh of welcome and then the kiss quickly became more. Urgent. Needy. Hot.

  Under her hands, the gray tank top bunched up and she splayed her fingers over the muscles of his abdomen and up to his pecs. He groaned when she pinched a nipple and she felt his sex jerk against her. God, he was so gorgeous. She opened her mouth to take in more of him and he captured her tongue, sucking on it in a way that flooded her with wetness. Her fingers curled into him. A hot throbbing between her legs made her breathless.

  “I want you,” he gasped.

  “Then take me.”

  With another deep groan, he lifted her and she wound her legs
around his hips, hissing when she felt the firm press of his arousal against the hot place where she needed it desperately. Her hand fumbled down between them and she felt how hard he was. He grunted her name.

  “If you don’t stop—” Another harsh sound punched out of him when she traced the shape of him through the soft pants.

  And that was probably why they didn’t make it too far. In the dark of the living room, Roman raised Aisha higher against him and then the back of the sofa was under her butt and he was crowding against her again, dragging down the straps of her dress to bare her braless breasts.

  “So gorgeous,” he gasped a moment before latching his mouth to a nipple. Then his head popped back up. “You’re pierced here?”

  “Very observ—” She lost her words as his mouth went back to work, this time with even more passion, more suction. More heat. He moaned like he was starving for her.

  “Roman...” His other hand kneaded the previously neglected breast, his thumb working her nipple while his mouth, hot and wet, sucked the other in his mouth, teeth tugging at the barbell through her nipple, tongue working the combination of the metal and her tender flesh.

  Aisha gasped and undulated against him. She was highly sensitive there, which was why she’d gotten both nipples pierced. The intensity of his mouth, the single-minded way he sucked and pleasured her, his hands grasping her thighs and keeping her from touching him, brought her to the breaking point.

  The throbbing between her legs grew and grew. The hot tingle becoming the beginnings of something she couldn’t control. “Roman!”

  The orgasm roared through her. Aisha shuddered against him. Wailed his name. And let the sensations take her completely over.

  He lifted his head, a look of amazement on his face. “Did you just...?”

  Breathless, Aisha licked her lips. “Maybe.”

  With a rough groan in the damp line of her throat, he lifted her into his arms. What was left of Aisha’s world tilted and she clung to him, her arms and thighs—hell, all of her—still trembling from her bliss. When she opened her eyes, they were in a bedroom dim from the shroud of evening but softly lit with a row of lights above the bed.