One Night With Her Husband (1Night Stand)

by Sara Daniel

  Damn, if everything didn’t tighten inside him, too. He held out a bobby pin to her. “Can I help?”

  Snatching the pin, she gestured toward his tented pants. “For God’s sake, get rid of that before the company owner walks in here.”

  Chapter Five

  “While I’m watching you all mussed and knowing I’m the cause? Not likely,” Adrian said. He’d never tried to hide his desire for her and didn’t intend to start.

  “What have you done to me? We’re supposed to be working.” Her cheeks flushed a deep red. “I have never been this unprofessional before.”

  “Never?” Satisfaction rolled through him. “Let me wipe away your lipstick smudge.” She paused, which he took for agreement. Slowly, he slid his thumb over the errant stain. Too bad it hadn’t smeared all over her face so he would have had an excuse to keep caressing her. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand back. “Do I have a matching smudge?”

  With round blue eyes, she scrutinized his skin and then scraped her nail against the corner of his mouth. Once again, white-hot lust shot through him.

  “Should I send Mr. Sunburst in?” the woman on the intercom asked again.

  “The evidence is gone,” Marcia whispered, her gaze locked on his lips.

  “Doesn’t mean you have to stop touching me. Rake those nails down my chest and across my back.” Adrian couldn’t wait another minute to take her. If they both got fired, they could start over together. He’d use the chance to make the right choices in their relationship instead of letting their stubbornness and insecurities guide them.

  Although her eyes dilated, she shook her head. “Stop. We’re adults with serious responsibilities.” She depressed the speaker button. “Send him in, Cindy.”

  To cool his desire, Adrian mentally recited his public relations plan for the company. By the time Mr. Sunburst entered the room, he managed to stand and shake the man’s hand without embarrassing himself.

  The three of them prepared the final draft of the company statement, fine-tuning the exact wording of the speech as well as the parts Mr. Sunburst would speak and where Marcia would take over.

  “Blake should be taking the heat next to me, instead of you,” Mr. Sunburst said to her. “Let’s see if he can drop in for a half hour. After he and I issue the apology, you can step forward with the positive promotions your PR people have come up with.”

  “Not having a stronger tech security system wasn’t any more Blake’s fault than anyone else’s in this company,” she said. Not only did she not balk at the idea of standing in front of a half-dozen television cameras and apologizing to the world, she embraced the difficult task, proving to Adrian how strong and capable she’d become in their years apart.

  “I’ve texted Blake,” she continued. “He’s willing to drop by at some point, but not this afternoon. His wife and son are being discharged from the hospital, and he’s focused on settling them in at home.”

  “We can’t put off the press conference any longer. The apology needs to come today,” Adrian said. The ease with which she spoke of her boss’s plans pointed to a familiarity beyond the office. But the way she spoke of the man’s devotion to his wife and baby didn’t hint of jealousy, so he couldn’t muster any resentment.

  “I agree,” Marcia said. “Let’s give the speech a dry run before the press gets here.” She printed copies for everyone and led them from the office.

  Following the sway of her seductive hips, Adrian would have gone wherever she led him. Unfortunately, she adhered to the business plan and stopped in the spacious downstairs meeting room where they’d speak to the media.

  For the next hour they practiced everything from posture, to tone inflection, to eye contact. Adrian had no trouble critiquing Mr. Sunburst’s delivery, but he lost all objectivity the moment Marcia made eye contact with him. The apology turned personal, and he couldn’t separate the present situation from their past.

  No matter how many times they confessed their regret over their mistakes, they couldn’t change the decisions that had led to their separation. Instead of going after her when she’d taken the job in California, he’d chosen to wait for her to realize she needed him and return to him. But she hadn’t needed him.

  His strategy to come to her during a company crisis had been based on the belief she would finally need him. But he’d been wrong. Despite his grand publicity plans, he hadn’t done anything she wouldn’t have been able to do without him.

  After the reporters and video crews filled the room, Marcia stepped in front of the microphone and looked into each camera lens. Her poise and professionalism didn’t waver as she delivered her rehearsed segment. Once the company got through the crisis, she would have a bright, successful career, with or without his help.

  Waiting for the perfect moment to reunite with his wife had backfired. Adrian had nothing more to offer to convince her they should be together. As an innocent college transfer student, she’d relied on him to show her around campus, to help her meet new friends, and to tutor her in lovemaking.

  But in the past seven years, she’d found her own way in life. Without him.

  Each question from the reporters required Marcia to repeat her contrition and her vow to do whatever necessary to win her customers back. Needing moral support so she didn’t reveal her growing frustration with the repetition, she glanced at Adrian.

  How soon would she grow frustrated trying to fix their relationship? Even if she did everything right, she had no guarantee she could win him back. And if she did, she owed him years of apologies. After a while, she’d resent begging for forgiveness.

  At last, the session concluded and the media packed up and left. After Mr. Sunburst also departed, she and Adrian headed to the elevator to meet up with the brainstorming team in the conference room.

  Pushing the button for their floor, she leaned against the wall. “How many more times do I have to say I’m sorry?”

  “We’ll send emails to the entire Sunburst mailing list and follow those up with snail mail letters, echoing what we said in the press conference. Then the apology portion is over,” he said. “From here on out, we’ll focus on the future, specifically on what we’re doing right and what we’re doing to win customers over.”

  “Is anything going right?”

  Adrian’s lips curled in a sexy smile. “We’re alone in a confined space. I say a lot is going right.” He advanced toward her and rested his forearms on the wall on either side of her face. “Let’s test all the good things we have in our favor.”

  As he slanted toward her, she let her eyes drift closed. She needed to lose herself in his kiss, to believe she could count him as a good thing in her life.

  The ride stopped, and the doors opened. Someone cleared his throat. “Should I take the stairs?”

  “Yes,” Adrian said.

  “No.” Opening her eyes, she nudged him away before he could push the button to close the door in the face of the pizza delivery man. “The elevator’s all yours. Thank you for delivering food for my team.”

  Exiting, she pulled a few bills from her purse and pressed the tip into the man’s palm. Up ahead in the conference room, a chaotic scene of ravenous twenty-somethings grabbed pizza slices and cans of soda.

  “They won’t notice if we duck into your office and finish that kiss,” Adrian pointed out.

  Yes. Every nerve in her body leaped in agreement. But to truly finish what they’d started, they’d have to explore each other’s bodies and make love. Maybe if she’d lost even half the excess weight, she would have had the confidence to let him put his hands on her skin. But no way could she risk the chance of turning him off.

  The vibration of her phone provided the perfect distraction in the form of a text. By staying focused on business, she’d be judged on her merits and competence, not on her figure.

  “Anything important?” Adrian asked, his lips too close to her ear to be business appropriate.

  “Blake gives us a thumbs-up. He watched the press confe
rence on TV and thought we handled ourselves well.”

  “You did,” Adrian affirmed.

  “I had a good coach.” She tucked the phone away, steeling herself against the lure of his handsome face so close to hers and the heat of his body radiating against her arm.

  “Your parents will be so proud when they see you on the news,” he said. “Did you let them know?”

  She shook her head, all warmth deserting her. “I doubt they’ll notice. We’re not very close.”

  His mouth dropped open. “What do you mean? I thought they’d follow every second of your career.”

  Of course, he expected unconditional support like his parents offered. But her family situation was decidedly more complicated. “We haven’t spoken much since I moved to California.”

  “You left me to get their approval, but then you stopped speaking to them? So, you have no one in your life?” He cupped her shoulder.

  “Not no one.” She shrugged away and strode into the conference room before he could hug her. She didn’t need his sympathy for her less-than-perfect choices. The sooner they were surrounded with witnesses, the more likely they’d keep their hands to themselves and resist temptation…and heartache.

  “Blake and Luciana more or less adopted me into their family,” she explained, as he followed her to the food table. “Luciana’s brother, Alex, treats me like a kid sister, and Blake’s sister-in-law, Sabrina, enlists me to take her shopping whenever she needs something red-carpet worthy.”

  Jasmine, one of the junior Gladstone members, dropped her pizza slice, cheese side down, on the table and swung toward her. “Did you just say red carpet, as in Hollywood red carpet?”

  “Yeah.” At first Marcia had been a bit star-struck, too, but she’d known Sabrina when the other woman had been a poor inner-city teacher, and money and fame hadn’t changed her. “Blake’s brother is Rob Wellington, so Rob and Sabrina have to show up for his movie premieres.”

  “OMG. You’re friends with the most famous movie director on the planet?”

  “I’m mostly friends with his wife,” Marcia murmured, wishing she’d taken more care not to let her private conversation with Adrian be overheard.

  “OMG,” Jasmine repeated. “I have the most awesome idea. Can you convince Rob Wellington to be caught on camera checking into the hotel and handing over his credit card at the front desk?”

  “I don’t think so.” Rob hated being exploited, and Sabrina hated when someone used Rob for his power and connections. Marcia’s stomach churned at the thought of abusing their friendship.

  “If they’d do it, the publicity would be great and would go a long way toward reassuring our customers,” Adrian agreed, nodding his approval to Jasmine.

  “I’ll ask Sabrina,” Marcia said, longing for his nod of approval to tip in her direction. Despite not relying on anyone else and making her life as independent as possible, she’d needed him to travel across the country to bail her out. She’d messed up every major relationship in her life and couldn’t afford to lose Sabrina’s friendship, too. “If she declines, then we give the Wellingtons their privacy. We won’t ask anything else from them and definitely won’t advertise their presence if they prefer privacy when they stay in one of our hotels.”

  “Of course. This is going to be so amazing.” Ignoring her overturned pizza slice, Jasmine ran to her computer and began typing. Others gathered around her, offering suggestions of how to best utilize Rob’s star power.

  Marcia rubbed her forehead. One more aspect of her life had spiraled out of control. The possibility of losing her best friend made her turn to Adrian, once again seeking help. “I mean it. If Rob and Sabrina don’t want to be dragged into our mess, then that’s the end of the discussion. Period.”

  He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her to his side. “Don’t worry. You and I have the final say, and we’re a team. I won’t do anything you don’t agree with. Where’s the spinach, tomato and pineapple pizza you love?”

  Focusing on the spread of food in front of them, she took a thin slice of veggie pizza. “I can’t find anyone willing to eat it with me.”

  “Order it, and I will.”

  Trying to keep her hope in check, she filled the rest of her plate with salad, maneuvering the tongs to evade the jalapeños.

  “Still avoiding spicy foods, I see,” he teased.

  “I’m a certified wimp,” she agreed. “Does your mother still cook authentic Mexican dinners whenever you come home?”

  “Of course. And I still get the same lectures that I’m not eating right.”

  She glanced at his fit torso. He certainly looked like he’d been making healthy food selections. If his mother had issues with his choices, she’d be appalled at Marcia’s staple of microwave meals and quick takeout scarfed over reports and while catching up on e-mail.

  “Mom’s given up trying to teach me to cook. Her goal now is to stuff me enough to last a month every time I visit.”

  “And you still see her once a month?”

  “At least.” He smiled, and another pang hit her. If they’d stayed together, she would have drifted apart from her parents regardless, but his would have embraced and welcomed her.

  Marcia carried her plate to the opposite end of the table from the junior marketing execs making plans to capitalize on her Hollywood connection. Adrian followed her.

  “Any new skills you’ve learned in the past seven years?” she asked, enjoying the easy conversation more than she wanted to admit.

  Setting his plate next to hers, he brushed her shoulder as he sat. How she’d missed the casual, familiar contact. “I can knot my own neckties. As a bonus, I can do it with my eyes closed, allowing me a thirty-second nap.”

  “Nice. I hope you put that on your résumé. More people need that talent so they’re refreshed and stay awake during meetings. Unfortunately, my skills haven’t progressed. I still can’t drive a stick shift.”

  His brown eyes twinkled. “If it’s any consolation, the whiplash I suffered after I tried to teach you has healed.”

  She laughed.

  “But I never got over my need to kiss you,” he continued.

  Chapter Six

  “Shh.” Her laughter died, and her cheeks warmed. A glance at their colleagues confirmed they hadn’t figured out Marcia’s personal connection to Adrian. Although she wanted him, she wasn’t ready to share their private moments.

  With the others focused on the possibilities of rubbing elbows with a movie star, she had far more interesting topics to explore. “Tell me about your life now, like I’m a stranger. What don’t I know about Adrian Torres?”

  He twisted open a water bottle. “I’ve cut soda from my diet, and I steer clear of alcohol. After too many nights drowning my sorrows, I had a lightbulb moment that I needed to find a better habit while I still could.”

  She’d expected silly little tidbits, not a dark confession, and certainly not the bombshell that she’d nearly turned him into an alcoholic. “Thank goodness you were too strong to be broken by your selfish wife’s actions.”

  “Strength of spirit had nothing to do with it. I knew I’d lose any shot I had at you taking me back if I became a drunk.”

  Her skin warmed again, and her heart swelled with hope. At one point, he’d wanted her to come back badly enough to turn his life around for her.

  “So, after that, I funneled the money I used to spend at the bar into a gym membership.”

  “I’ve thought about joining a gym for the past few years.” The admission felt more shameful than admitting a drinking problem. “Thinking about it is as far as I’ve gotten.” If only she’d spent three years sweating on the treadmill, she’d have a body she couldn’t wait for Adrian to explore with his eyes and hands and mouth.

  “I had to make a commitment and a lifestyle change. I get up at five every morning to work out.”

  “Wow.” She tried to wrap her mind around the insanely early routine. “When we were together, I don’t thi
nk we ever crawled out of bed before eight.” Neither of them had had any ambition to move away from the other’s naked flesh.

  “Nothing to stay under the covers for anymore,” he said with a shrug. “I’m open to renegotiating my mornings if you’re part of my nights.”

  She met his gaze and then glanced away. How long could she hold herself in check before she dove at him? Would anyone notice if she crawled under the table, unzipped his pants, and took him in her mouth? Yes. Unfortunately.

  “We’re not discussing sex lives.” Marcia stabbed at the lettuce on her plate.

  “Good, because I have nothing to share and don’t want to hear about yours.”

  “Good, because my vibrator collection is none of your business.”

  He choked on his water.

  Shit.

  She hadn’t really admitted her only action came from toys, had she? Yes, she had. Needing a safe topic, fast, she asked, “I assume you own a gorgeous house?”

  “Actually, I rent a bland, modest townhouse.”

  She blinked. Adrian had planned to buy a house as soon as they landed their first jobs. Home ownership had been one of his top priorities. “I always pictured you in a place of your own. I rent, too, also something bland, a studio apartment with an empty fridge to be exact.”

  “Hmm, I have milk in my fridge, but I think it expired a couple weeks ago. Try to guess what I drive.” His lips curved in a hint of a smile so sexy it should have been illegal.

  “A beige sedan with the highest consumer safety rating.” Without a doubt.

  “Please.” He shot her a pained look. “How bland do you think I am? I have a motorcycle.”

  “A motorcycle? You? Mr. Conservative?” She couldn’t picture it.

  “I also joined a skydiving club a couple years ago, and I’ve started taking lessons to get my pilot’s license.” He grinned as if he found his own words funny. “Those two don’t go together. I don’t plan to jump out of the same plane I’m flying.”