He tells me, “Your nine o’clock is waiting for you in Diagon Alley, sir.”
“Thank you. Hold all calls.” I don’t check in to see if anything important awaits me this morning, because all I can think of is the task ahead of me. I draw closer to the meeting room, noticing that Neil closed the blinds as I requested.
I enter, glance down the long glass table, with the view of the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance before my attention falls to the brunette awaiting me. Allie is looking far too professional in her black pantsuit and teal blouse for the conversation ahead of us and is chewing her lip. “Thank you for coming on such short notice,” I say, shutting the door behind me.
When I turn back to her, I see the blush of her cheeks and the way she’s not lifting her chin as she usually does around me. Yeah, girl…I haven’t forgotten last night either.
“Not a problem.” Her voice is curious and quiet. “Listen, before you say anything, I’m sure we need to talk about last night.”
“No, we’re not talking about last night.” I move to the head of the table, next to her, unbutton my jacket, and then shake the fabric off my shoulders, draping it over the back of the chair. I like how she’s staring at my every move as I roll up my sleeves. She’s wet right now and aching for me, I can tell by the way her breath is quickening and how she’s biting her bottom lip.
Good. That’s how I want her.
I take my seat. “But I will tell you what we’re going to talk about.”
A pause. Then, “Which is?”
I lean forward, resting my arms on the table and clasping my fingers. “We’re going to hash out why you’re refusing a date with me.”
She sputters a laugh. “You want to have a business meeting about why I don’t want to go on a date with you?”
I nod. “Tell me your objections so I can deal with them.”
She hesitates, crossing and then uncrossing her legs beneath the table. “You cannot be serious.”
“I’m very serious.” I narrow my eyes on her, loving the way she’s squirming in her seat. I can only imagine she’s remembering the way I touched her, kissed her, and how I stole the damn orgasm right out of her. But all I can remember is the smell of her, the sounds she made, and the warmth and wetness against my fingers. I want to taste her. I want to own her. “What’s your first objection?”
“Um…” She’s staring at me with wide eyes. Clearly, I’ve stumped her.
“We’re not leaving this room until you name your objections,” I tell her, more firmly now.
I need to explore things with her. I need answers before my demons overwhelm me. It’s too dangerous for Allie to be with me then. And every day, every minute, every second that I’m with her, she seems to be pulling that darkness out faster. I need to fuck her. She needs to let me quiet the beast.
“Okay,” she finally says, lifting her chin. “You’re my boss.”
I smile swiftly. “Therefore, I can make the rules.”
Her lips thin, eyes tight at the corners. “No, you think you can make the rules, but it’s my name that could get dragged through the mud.”
A hot flush swipes over my body, tightening my jaw. “Dating me is comparable to being dragged through the mud?”
She shrugs, holding my eye contact in the way I like. “You have a reputation that I’m sure I don’t need to point out to you. I’ve worked hard to get where I am professionally. I won’t risk my career like that.”
A valid point, I thought. One I intend to crush anyhow. “Have you ever read in the tabloids about me dating anyone here at Holt?”
“No.”
“I’ve dated five people and all five of those women still work here.” Her nose scrunches, and I can tell my answer is a double-edged sword. “While that might not be what you want to hear, it also shows you that I know how to keep professional and personal separate. If nothing comes of our date, only you and I will know about it. Believe me, I won’t let the tabloids photograph you.” I see by the way her shoulders droop that what I’ve said pleases her.
Regardless, she fires off her next excuse. “I haven’t dated in over a year, because I’ve been focused on my career. It’s important to me. I don’t want the complication of a relationship right now.”
“I’m not asking for a relationship,” I say easily, gazing over the soft lines of her face. My fingers twitch to feel her skin heat under my hands like I did so easily last night. I want to hear those soft moans and feel them brushing down my neck while I thrust deep inside her. I lift my eyes to hers, which are becoming more heated as the seconds drag on. “I’m asking for a date. Two people. One dinner. One night.”
She inhales a big deep breath and then blows it out slowly, enough for me to remember how her breath hitches right before climax and how she releases a perfect little squeak. “I don’t do one-night stands,” she continues. “If that’s what you’re looking for, you should look elsewhere.”
“Good to know.” I fold my arms, lean back in my chair, actually glad. My possessive side likes that. If she doesn’t do one-night stands then I can only assume Allie hasn’t had many lovers. All mine, the beast purrs inside. “But I never said anything about sex. I said I want a date.” I like the way she blushes when I add, “And I also believe that last night proves enough that my pleasure is not on my mind. Therefore, your objection is also irrelevant.”
A long few seconds of silence passes before she breaks the staring contest and shakes her head. “Why won’t you let this go?”
“You know why,” I tell her.
Again, she silently stares at me. I don’t understand her objection. Christ, last night she let me get her off. Now she’s having second thoughts? Regardless of what her mind is telling her, I see the way her lips part under my regard and how she’s trembling slightly. I see the flush over her cheeks and how her eyes undress me. I intend to fully help her understand why neither of us should ignore this.
I’m done waiting.
No more refusing me.
I rise and move to her, watching her eyes widen, pupils becoming large and dark. When I grab the back of her chair, wheeling her out from under the table and turn her toward me, she leans into me and her face is deepening in color. My cock hardens to steel as I inhale her sweet scent, while I brace on the armrests, bringing my face close to hers, noticing her firm eye contact; telling signs for me not to stop. “This is why I can’t leave you alone.” I lift my fingers, pleased when she stays put, as I drag them gently down the long lines of her neck, feeling her tremble.
Her lips part wide, inviting me to kiss her.
I lick mine, desperate to seal my mouth over hers. Temptation is driving me to touch her and I’m staring at my fingers sliding over her collarbone then up her neck to her jawline, feeling her skin heat under my touch. But I can’t kiss her. I need her to hear me. “The pull that I feel toward you is rare. You make me do things I would never do; break rules I would never break.” Her legs part and she’s tempting me to slide my fingers up to her warmth again. “The only thing that is stopping me from fucking you right here, right now, until we break this goddamn table, is you.” She lifts her chin, exposing her neck to me, and I slide my hand across her warm skin, feeling her pulse hammering beneath my palm. “We could ignore this thing between us and pretend that one date isn’t worth all the risks you’ve stated. Or we could see exactly why”—I tangle my fingers into her hair at her nape, tugging a little, and lowering my voice—“this feels so damn good.”
“Micah…” she breathes, leaning up to kiss me.
I drop my hand and step back. “You want more, Allie. We go on a date. That’s how this works.”
She flops back into her chair, breathing deeply and crossing her legs tightly. I know she’s squeezing her legs together and feeding pleasure to her swollen clit, because I already know how sensitive she is and how aroused she becomes by my touch alone.
“Well…”—she finally draws in a long breath and releases it slowly—“…you’ve mad
e your position perfectly clear.”
I stuff a hand in my pocket, stroking the side of my hard cock, wishing it’s her damn fingers, awaiting her next move.
Eyes on me, she rises and pushes the chair under the table, then heads swiftly toward the door. “You’ll let me know where to meet you tonight?”
“Who says our date is tonight?” I call out.
She opens the door and glances over her shoulder. “I do.”
Then she smiles.
It’s warm. It’s real.
It swallows me whole.
Chapter 7
Allie
“Wait. What? You said yes!”
Sitting on my couch, surrounded by the soft lighting coming from the lamps on the end tables, I stare into Taylor’s wide eyes through the iPad screen. “Yup, I said yes.”
“But why?” she continues with a frown. “I thought you were totally against the idea of dating him.”
“Oh, I was.” I fiddle with the long necklace over the top of my favorite little black dress, not at all surprised that I changed my mind about Micah. Little did he know I had already mentally agreed to our date at Holt’s Day. Everything that followed after was only confirmation I had made the right choice, including the night in my office. But the biggest deciding factor was his agreement to ensure I stayed out of the tabloids. I’m no idiot, and Micah had unchecked all my concerns about him, so there’s no reason for me to stop this anymore. This guy lights up my body and touches my soul. I want to explore that. “Things with him are weird and powerful and intense and scary. I don’t know…he seems so different, so unlike the guys I’ve met before. There’s a sweetness and depth to him that’s hidden under that sexy body.”
Taylor giggles.
I wait until she stops, then add, “So, today, he negotiated the date and expertly knocked off every objection I had, making me feel better about it all. Then he touched me and, Taylor, my God, he is hot. I’ve never felt like I do with him. The guy is so damn sexy it practically oozes out of him, so my mouth just opened and I said yes.”
“Okay, well, this is good, isn’t it?” Taylor asks.
I shrug. “Maybe.”
“Why maybe?”
“Like I said…” I add with a smile, “…it’s weird and powerful and intense and scary.” I can’t forget these things about Micah. I need to go into this with my eyes wide open, never forgetting that a part of me is still on guard with him.
She jumps on her bed, sending the iPad screen bouncing around, and leans against her fabric-covered headboard. “Well, that’s better than being normal and boring.”
“True.”
“What else did he say to you?”
“Be ready outside of your condo at 8 P.M.”
“That’s all he said?”
For the past hour, while getting ready, Micah’s text to me had been on repeat. One second he’s hot as fire, sweet and sensitive. The next second he’s cold as ice. It’s a little confusing. “Yep, that was it.”
“What did you say back?”
“I told him that I’d meet him at the restaurant.”
She smiles, and I notice the dark circles under her eyes are gone tonight. “Of course you did. And what was his response?”
I’m sending my driver to you was what Micah had texted.
I texted back: I don’t want to be photographed with you and be splashed all over some trashy magazine. You promised that wouldn’t happen.
His response took less time than mine did: You want to have dinner somewhere private, then?
Yes, I replied.
That can be arranged.
Okay, where?
I’m sending my driver, Allie. I could almost hear the exasperation in his tone at that comment.
Micah…I had hoped he heard mine, too.
Which he followed up with, I take your privacy seriously. My driver is trained to protect you. Be ready at 8 p.m.
I sigh to myself, rehashing that frustrating conversation in my mind, but saving Taylor from the power struggle. “He won the argument, of course. But let me tell you, if I’m on a magazine cover tomorrow, things are going to get ugly.” Because I’m not ready to go there. I like my life. I like my privacy. I don’t want things to change.
Taylor laughs in her easy way. “Your situation sounds more complicated than mine.”
“It is what it is. And I’m going with it.” I place the iPad on my crossed legs, staring down at her, a few strands of hair falling beside my face. “We’ll see what happens tonight. This could be an epic disaster.” If I learned anything from the death of my parents, it’s to live to the fullest. I won’t stop the natural flow of where things are going with Micah, but I will protect myself. “Before I go, tell me, how are things with Shawn?”
“Things are”—she bows her head, voice small—“whatever they are. We’re trying to work through it.”
I wonder how does one work through someone cheating on them. For me, it’s a dead stop to any relationship. “Has he finally admitted to cheating?” Healing couldn’t happen without the truth laid out. “I mean, do you know everything?”
“He doesn’t need to admit to anything.” She tilts her head, fiddling with her side braid. “His eyes say it all.”
Her insecurity bothers me, tightening a knot in my stomach. The things she says, the stuff she puts up with, it’s so unlike her. “Are you getting couple’s therapy or something?”
“No. We’re doing this ourselves.”
I frown, knowing sadly that Taylor is probably pushing this whole thing under the rug. “Well, that’s good, I guess.” I pause to consider what to say to her. Having no advice but to leave him, I go with what truly matters to me. “And you? How are things for you? Feeling a bit better?”
“I’m getting there.” She gives a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
My chest squeezes and I look away to avoid her, when I notice on the stove’s clock that I have five minutes to get downstairs. “Listen, babe, I gotta go. I’ll call you later and tell you how things go tonight.”
“Every. Single. Detail.”
“You know I will.” I blow her a kiss through the iPad.
When the screen goes blank, I leave my iPad on the couch and grab my black shawl and clutch on the way out, locking the door behind me. Within minutes, I’m exiting the elevator and passing by the security guard, until I make it outside. The wind whooshes by me, and I wrap my shawl around my shoulders, finding a sleek black Bentley waiting by the curb. A tall man, wearing a black T-shirt and cargo pants, waits for me by the passenger-side door.
“Good evening, Miss Parker.” The rugged man with a five o’clock shadow offers a smile that seems genuine, yet lacks warmth. “I need to get you into the car quickly. Paparazzi followed me for a good quarter mile before I lost them. Let’s not take any chances, shall we?”
That got my ass moving. In a second flat, I’m in the car with the blacked-out windows. When the driver joins me, shutting the door behind him, I say, “Thank you for that.” I guess I should thank Micah, too. So far, his promises are upheld and that makes me smile and relax a little.
The driver glances at me in the rearview mirror. “It’s not a problem, ma’am.”
Okay, the ma’am is weird but I can only assume he’s former military. He’s got that vibe. There’s strength and wisdom in his round copper eyes. Like he’s seen a lot of things I wouldn’t want to see. I lean forward, offering my hand through the seats. “It’s a pleasure to meet you…”
His brows rise. Clearly, my personal gesture surprises him, but he recovers quickly. His large, rough, calloused hand closes around mine. “Levi Ward, ma’am.”
Once I settle into my seat and secure my seatbelt, he drives off, heading toward the Financial District. I take in the busy road and the people going about their night, but who am I kidding? I’m curious about the man who’s driving me around. I wonder if knowing more about Levi will let me know more about Micah. “How long have you worked for Micah?” I ask.
“For about five years now, ma’am.”
I cross my legs with a laugh, feeling the rich, smooth leather seat beneath my bare thighs. “You really don’t have to call me ma’am. Allie works.”
“It’s an old military habit, ma’am.” He smirks.
I shake my head at his dancing eyes, but I’m glad my instincts about him are sharp. “Have you always been a driver?”
Levi turns the car to the right, heading down California Street. “No, not always. I did two tours in Iraq, then worked for the Secret Service for a short time before moving into the private security sector.”
I perk up at that. “You left the Secret Service to work for Micah?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Interesting. “Can I ask why?”
Levi stops the car at the red streetlight. His eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror again. “I had one child at the time, and another on the way, and I have a wife who deserves all I can give her.”
“Ah, so the pay was better?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I smile at Levi. The world could use more men like him, even if the ma’am really began to annoy me. Here’s a guy who doesn’t want money for selfish reasons. He wants money to provide for his family. Very respectable. “I can only imagine that Micah has you at his beck and call, so it’s good he takes care of you.”
The car slows, the purr of the engine softening. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him, ma’am.”
I note the pride in Levi’s voice. Part of me wonders if his loyalty to Micah comes from the money Levi makes. The other part of me wonders if they have a friendship that goes beyond a professional one. “Including picking up his dates,” I say, dryly.
Levi, smartly, doesn’t respond.
When we reach California Center, Levi parks the car at the curb. He glances over his shoulders at me, his eyes stern. “Please stay in the car until I open the door. I want to sweep the area.”
I watch him leave, and while embarrassment begins to warm my face, I appreciate Levi’s care to ensure I won’t be photographed. I can see why Micah pays him well. Levi is good at his job.
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