“Thank you,” she whispered.
Silence stretched. Allison racked her brains for something to diffuse the tension.
“What exactly are you trying to do?” she asked.
He swallowed once before picking up on her lead. “I told you I’d thank you for your hard work with a home-cooked meal.”
“Did you ask Suzie to make it?” she asked, naming his housekeeper. The glare she received put a smile on her lips.
“I told her I’d do it.”
“You cook about as well as I do.”
“Trust me, tonight proves that without a doubt. Follow me to the disaster zone.”
Carrying the bottle of wine, she trailed him through the sprawling entryway. A grand mahogany staircase curled up toward the second floor, and they passed a few archways that obviously lead to other sections of the house. She only managed to catch a brief glimpse of the living room as Darian led her to the kitchen.
“Oh my,” she said when she stepped into the white tiled space.
Though the kitchen was by no means small, every available surface was filled with dirty bowls or half chopped produce.
“What exactly was the source of this mess?”
“I tried to make pasta.”
“From scratch?” she asked, seeing lumps of dough blending into the countertops. “You know they sell that stuff in grocery stores, right?”
“I thought I was up to the challenge.”
She pushed a bowl aside then set the wine bottle in the space she’d cleared before wandering toward the stove.
“Tomato sauce?” She examined the white cloves peppering the red mush in the pot. She guessed he’d been a tad heavy handed with the garlic.
“It’s still missing a few ingredients.” He gestured toward the cutting board where some herbs waited, partially chopped.
Allison rotated slowly, taking in every inch of the mess, before returning her gaze to Darian.
“Don’t you dare laugh.”
Amusement bubbled within her. She slapped a hand over her mouth to smother any incriminating sounds.
“Last time I try to do something nice for you,” he said with a shake of his head. But even he was grinning at the trouble he’d gotten into.
“I do appreciate the gesture,” she said, walking to his side. “I’ve never had anyone try to make me such an ambitious meal.”
“Tomato pasta?”
A giggle escaped her. There was nothing she could do to stop it. Putting her hand on his arm she fought the urge to hug him. Dinner might be a disaster, but she didn’t care. In this instance, it was definitely the thought that counted, and in his way, Darian had just tried to take care of her. How long had it been since someone had thought to make her a meal?
“You are brilliant in the boardroom,” she said. “So what if cooking isn’t your thing?”
He sighed in agreement. “Let’s order something in.”
“Absolutely not. You’ve got most of this meal finished. I’m sure between the two of us we can get something on the table.”
“Says the Queen of Takeout.”
She pushed up her sleeves, surveying the counter. “All right, you open the wine and fill two glasses. I’m going to attempt to season the sauce.”
“Aye-aye, captain.”
Moving to the pot on the stove, she gave the tomatoes an experimental stir. It seemed a little thick to her, but maybe that’s the way it was supposed to be. She grabbed the salt and pepper and shook in what she thought was a decent amount.
“Do all these herbs go in?” she asked as she heard the sound of the wine bottle being uncorked.
“The internet says yes.”
Shrugging, she tossed the greenery into the pot and turned her attention to slicing up an onion.
Darian set a glass beside her before raising his own to his lips. “You select wine better than I make pasta,” he said.
She tossed him a smile. “One of my many talents.”
Moving to her side, he reached for the pasta bowl and started pinching pieces together.
“What are you making?” She leaned closer to get a better view.
“It’s supposed to be bowtie pasta.”
“Cute.” The pasta pieces might be a little misshapen but she’d forever have the visual of her Fortune 500 boss scowling at tiny bits of dough, and that was worth more than a delicious dinner.
Dumping the onion into the pot, she asked, “How long should this heat?”
“Until they’re cooked, I assume.” He held up a handful of uneven bowties.
“Throw ’em in the pot, then. I’m hungry.”
Soon the pasta was bubbling on the stove and the sauce was starting to smell slightly better. Allison swept the used produce into the trash before stacking some of the dirty dishes in the sink.
“Did you use every bowl you own?”
Darian wiped down the counters as he replied, “I promise I’ll buy a bag of pasta and a pre-bottled sauce next time.”
Next time. Warmth suffused her at the words.
Drying off her hands, she stepped closer to him. “You’ve got a little something right there.”
Cupping his cheek, she used a tea towel to wipe the flour smudge off his skin.
He held still under her touch. Trying to ignore the way her heart raced to be so near him, she did her best to appear unaffected.
“I think I got it,” she said softly, her gaze flicking to his.
She should step back. Should drop her hand and make some light comment about the sauce.
So why aren’t you? her inner voice asked as she stared up at him like a lovesick teen.
“Thank you,” he replied.
He’s not stepping back, either. It’d be so easy to rise onto my tiptoes. In seconds my mouth could be on his.
For a couple of blissful moments before he’d push her away and explain in excruciating detail why she wasn’t his type.
Allison stepped back, clearing her throat. “You might still have a little flour in your hair.”
He watched her for a long moment, thoughtful blue eyes studying her, before he smiled slightly.
“If that’s the only flour on me, then I got off lucky.” He ran his hands through his hair to dust off the flour. “Better?”
“Much better.” She could barely squeak the words out of her tight throat. Sexy, tousled Darian was even more tempting than suave, business-like Darian.
“I’m sure the pasta must be done. Grab two plates from that cupboard, and I’ll drain off the water.”
Following his directions, she set two places, while he poured the pasta and sauce into a serving bowl and brought it over. Not wanting them to be separated by the large table, she arranged the two plates on opposite sides of one corner. He’d be close enough to touch if she worked up the courage.
“Bon appetite,” he said, raising his wineglass to her.
“Looks tasty,” she lied, spooning some of the concoction onto her plate.
Darian took a bite and stopped mid-chew.
“That good, huh?” she asked.
“A masterpiece,” he replied.
Stabbing a piece, she popped it into her mouth and nearly choked. The garlic flavor was overpowering and the pasta was both underdone and far too salty. Forcing the bite down, she reached for her wine.
“Yummy,” she said, taking a large sip.
Laughter erupted from Darian, and she paused, startled. In the four years they’d been a team, she’d seen him happy. She’d even seen him laugh on rare occasion, but not like this. The sound that filled the room was a joyous, whole-body laugh. Had she ever seen his face so free of stress and worry? Unable to do anything else, she watched him laugh at his failure and felt her heart clench.
“This is terrible,” he said between chuckles. “We can’t eat this.”
“We’ve got the wedding cakes, right? Who says dinner can’t be cake and wine?”
“Sounds like a plan,” he agreed, pushing his plate back. “Stay there and I’ll
get it.”
Relaxing back into her chair, Allison sipped her wine as Darian cleared the table. He returned with fresh plates and a dozen tiny boxes.
“The baker wanted to make sure we were thoroughly happy with our cake selection,” he explained, sliding back into his seat. “We’ve got little replicas of all the cakes we could possibly order.”
She opened the first box to see a perfect miniature cake in delicate white icing. A flag was stuck in the middle with the name of the cake flavor on it.
“You’re telling me we get to sit here and eat twelve gorgeous cakes?”
“Pretty much,” he said, pulling another cake free from its box and then setting it on the table.
“Best date ever.”
He paused, glancing in her direction.
Realizing what her idiotic brain had made her say, she quickly tried to explain away the words. “You know what I meant,” she said as heat flooded her cheeks.
A sharp nod was his response. “Open the rest. Let’s get them all out on the table.”
Thankful to have something to do, she freed all the cakes and tossed the boxes to the ground on the other side. Luckily Darian’s family-sized dining table had more than enough space to accommodate all the little samples.
“They look amazing,” she said. Just imagining biting into them had her mouth watering in anticipation. “Should we cut slices?”
“It’s just us. No need for ceremony.” Darian stabbed his fork into the nearest cake.
Following his lead, she descended on the cake before her. “Mmmm, lemon.”
“Try the red velvet,” he said, pushing it toward her as he reached for another.
“How are we ever going to choose just one? What kind does Jenny like?”
“My sister will eat anything with sugar. Whatever we say goes.”
She’d tried half the cakes when Darian groaned in pleasure. “You have to taste this,” he said, holding out a forkful to her.
Part of her balked at the intimate gesture, but the other part, the part enjoying the company of an attractive man, leaned forward and accepted the bite, her eyes on his.
Slowly he pulled the fork back, leaving her with a mouthful of sinfully good chocolate cake.
“Wow,” she breathed. “Is that a hint of raspberry?”
“You’ve got a little bit of icing,” he said, reaching out.
Allison froze as his thumb caressed the edge of her mouth.
“Got it.” His voice sounded hoarser than it had a moment ago.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
“Did we just find the winning cake?” he asked, not moving back.
She should turn away from his lips, but they were temptingly close to hers.
“It gets my vote.” Was that her voice? So breathy and soft?
Allison tried to call up the logical side of her brain. The part of her able to articulate all the reasons why she shouldn’t lean closer and take what her body demanded. He was so close. Smelled so good. They were all alone here. No one ever had to know what happened behind closed doors.
It was only her pride on the line, after all. Yes, if he pushed her away she’d need to hide under a rock for the next few weeks, but that was the only price attached to this decision. Once she quit, she’d probably never see him again. The powerful CEO and his errant assistant? This wasn’t a Disney fairytale. Real life was far crueler. When she handed in her notice, she’d be gone, and he’d replace her in a few days. Out of sight, out of mind.
The only relationship she could wreck tonight was one with a three-week time limit.
Wasn’t a night with Darian worth more than that?
“There’s still the carrot cake to try,” he said, but his eyes were fixed on her mouth.
It’s my choice, she realized. He wasn’t going to cross the line with his assistant.
Didn’t mean she couldn’t blast through it all on her own.
Thank god for liquid courage, she thought. If she was about to be rebuked, she had no doubt the rejection would be seared into her mind for years to come.
“Ali?”
The soft sound of her name on his lips was her undoing.
She surged forward, her hands cupping his face as she pressed her mouth to his.
Adrenaline spiked through her veins. She was kissing Darian freaking King.
The sane part of her mind demanded she pull away, but the rest of her figured in for a penny, in for a pound.
She slanted her lips over his, trying to coax a response. Had it truly been all in her head? Had there been no moment in the gazebo? Had their last four years together merely built a platonic friendship?
Despair spiraled through her as his mouth remained unmoving under hers. She’d miscalculated. Badly.
Pulling back, she stared up at him in what must have been a mix of horror and embarrassment. The cozy camaraderie they’d built up, the laughter and the wine, had all caused her to make an epic mistake.
She tried to find the words to apologize when a slow smile spread across his face.
Before she could voice a word his mouth was back on hers.
…
The perfect Allison Reed had kissed him.
He should have pulled away. Or hell, pushed her away. But what did he do instead?
He kissed her back
This time he was no idle participant. Darian took charge of this kiss, dragging her out of her chair and onto his lap. One hand captured a thigh while the other slid up her back in a sure touch. She felt so damn good. All soft curves and willing moans.
Her fingers delved into his hair, using the dark locks to pull him closer. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted someone with the desperate need that now shook his body.
His tongue traced her lips, demanding entrance. She tasted of chocolate as he claimed her mouth in a masterful touch.
What are you doing? his brain demanded. This was Ali. Plain, dependable assistant extraordinaire.
But right now he couldn’t imagine how he’d ever thought she was plain. No, the woman in his arms was passionate and sexy. Completely irresistible. And by some twist of fate, she seemed to be as hot for him as he was for her.
With a last brush of his lips over hers, he drew back.
“This is a bad idea,” he said.
“Terrible,” she agreed.
“It could ruin everything.”
She nodded. “Absolutely. I’ve no use for a man following me around like a lovesick puppy.”
His laugh was soft. “Not exactly the outcome I envisioned.”
“Oh?” She arched a brow. “And what do you think will happen here, Darian? Sex with you will be so amazing it’ll ruin me for any other man?”
“Way to make me sound conceited.”
She nuzzled against his throat. “Let me make one thing clear,” she said. “I’m fully capable of having Olympic-level sex tonight without losing my heart.”
He definitely liked the sound of that. “This is only one night. Come Monday everything will be back to normal.”
“Exactly. You’ll be back to your modelesque blondes and I’ll go back to the men in my life.”
The thought sent a growl rumbling through his throat. He couldn’t even picture another woman, and she was eager to get back to her other men?
Challenge accepted. He’d make her forget all their names.
He cupped her face, guiding her back until he could look in her eyes. “I don’t want anything to jeopardize what we have, Allison.” Incredible sex was one thing. But he’d rather stop right now than lose his perfect assistant.
“You never call me that,” she murmured.
No, he didn’t. Right now, though, they needed things to be very clear. “We can stop now, no harm no foul.”
“Is that what you want?”
His cock twitched in protest. “No.”
With a smile, she leaned closer and brushed her lips over his. “Stop trying to talk me out of taking my clothes off.”
His breat
h left him in a hiss. “Was that what I was doing?” he asked. “My abject apologies.”
“I know how you can make it up to me.”
Oh, he had enough ideas all on his own, so long as they were on the same page. “This changes nothing,” he told her, cupping her face.
“I won’t even grace it with a note in my diary,” she agreed. “Mutual lust. Nothing more.”
“I’m not a relationship kind of man.” He couldn’t be the boyfriend she probably wished for. It wasn’t in him to appreciate commitment.
Her nails raked his scalp. “I’m not interested in forever.”
“So long as we’re clear.”
“Crystal. One night is all you get.”
He grabbed her thighs and stood, taking her with him. Allison eagerly wrapped her legs around his hips, pressing her mouth against his once more as he walked her across the kitchen.
“If you’re sure, Ali, then we’d better make tonight count.”
…
She wrapped her arms around him as he carried her.
Under normal circumstances she’d complain that she was too heavy for such behavior, but Darian had stripped away those inner criticisms. If he didn’t object, who was she to ruin the moment?
Instead, she reveled in the feeling of leaving everything in his hands. Of letting him lead the way. He’d been clear about what he desires, and now it was her turn. If one night was all she’d ever have of him, she needed to make every moment count. There was no room for inhibitions here. For just one night, she could leave the perfect assistant behind and simply give in to her lusts, just as Gillian had been urging her to. She wasn’t going to let any hesitations or insecurities ruin a night she’d be remembering for the rest of her life.
Allison Reed, sex goddess. The thought brought a smile to her face. Here’s to hoping she could live up to her own expectations.
Because for the first time in her life, she didn’t want to hold anything back from the man in her arms.
Darian set her on the kitchen counter, pressing her bottom against the white granite.
The squishing feeling under her made her grin against his lips.
“I’m ninety percent sure you just ground salted pasta into my skirt,” she whispered.
Right Billionaire, Wrong Wedding (Sexy Billionaires) Page 7