She studied their twined hands. “No,” she whispered. Not right now. Not when it wouldn’t matter in a couple of weeks anyways. It was enough to know she mattered to him outside the bedroom.
“Then invite your family to the city. We can impress them,” he offered again.
“You mean you can turn on the magic and wow them with your checkbook.”
His grin flashed bright. “That, too.”
She shook her head, pulling her hand back. “Sorry, but you are the last man my family would be happy about me being involved with.”
The look of affront on his face was worth the prying into her background. “Why the hell not?” he demanded. “I’m a mother’s dream.”
“A mercenary one, maybe,” she said. “I’m from a family that wouldn’t care about your bank account. My mother would hear one story about your womanizing ways and go get the shotgun.”
“Who would they want you with, then?” he asked, reaching for his wineglass.
She sighed, thinking back to her formative years. “I come from simple stock,” she said. “The plan for me was very straight forward. I’d grow up to be a teacher like my mom. I’d meet a decent, easygoing man. Maybe a farmer or a local business owner. Someone invested in the community. We’d date under the watchful gaze of the town for a while before getting engaged. I’d end up married and settled, close enough to have family dinners on Sunday.” She took a drink. “Instead, I moved across the country and went into business. I devoted myself to a man who never looked at me twice, until very recently,” she added when he opened his mouth to protest. “And I spent my time building your business instead of a family.”
Silence stretched for a long moment. Allison swallowed another mouthful of wine and debated whether she’d said too much.
“Do you regret your choice?”
Sometimes. Not leaving, but I regret giving so much of my life to you and your company. That’s why I want out.
Those were not words she could say.
“I’m proud of the work we’ve accomplished together,” she said.
“That’s not what I asked.”
She leaned back in her chair, meeting Darian’s serious eyes. The expression on his face was nothing new. She’d seen it countless times when he was doing his due diligence on a deal and tried to uncover every piece of information he could.
Tread carefully, her mind cautioned.
“I learned more from you than I ever could have elsewhere,” she said. “I don’t regret that.”
His eyes narrowed. “But you regret something else.”
“What do you want me to say, Darian?”
“I want to know if I’ve done something that’s made you unhappy.”
“Why? You’re not my boyfriend. You’ve no right to those answers.”
He nodded, silent. “You’re right. I’m not your boyfriend. But I’m not just some disinterested party, either.”
She leaned forward. “When we work together, those lines get hard to define. I’ve never regretted leaving my hometown. I love it here. King Enterprises gave me a chance when no one else would. I’ll forever be grateful for that.”
“That’s a nice way of saying, ‘stop prying into my life, Mr. King.’ Isn’t it?”
She smiled in acknowledgement. “I could respond by asking about your past.”
He leaned back in his seat, taking a long sip of his wine.
Assuming the conversation was done, she looked around the restaurant, hoping their food arrived soon and with it a distraction.
“What do you want to know?”
The words had her head whipping back toward him. “What?”
He shrugged. “You’re right. I was prying, and I’m nothing if not a believer in fair play.” His electric gaze met hers. “If you have questions you’d better ask them before I change my mind.”
Excitement surged through her. Darian never talked about his past. He was the king of keeping people out.
So why is he giving me this opening?
The deepest part of her heart wanted to believe it was because she was special and not merely because he wanted to balance the scales between them.
“You asked about my family,” she said before she could chicken out. “Tell me about yours.”
He inhaled, his eyes on his wine. “You know I lost my parents.”
“Yes. But I don’t know how a young boy managed to raise a kid sister and a corporate empire.”
A small smile twisted his lips. “I learned early on that sleep is for the weak.”
“Darian.”
His eyes flicked to her. “With our parents gone…Jenny was a wreck. I was, too, but I had no choice but to keep things together. The mortgage was paid off, but I still needed to keep food on the table. Needing to work, I wound up taking part-time jobs at a few different offices here and there. Wherever would give me some hours.”
“Sounds busy.”
“I’ve never shied away from hard work.”
No, but he’d been a young man suddenly shouldered with both responsibility and grief.
“It must have been a lot to handle.”
He shrugged. “It was harder on Jenny. Teenage girls need their mothers. All she had was me.”
“I’ve seen you together,” she pointed out. “Your sister thinks the world of you.”
“I had to keep her safe. I had to do my best for her,” he said, his eyes not meeting hers.
And that, she thought, had become the mantra of his life. Every decision he’d made had been to provide a life for Jenny. A safe harbor.
Taking pity on him, she tried to steer the conversation away from his sister. “I take it these offices were what sparked your interest in business.”
He inclined his head. “I kept seeing opportunities no one else seemed aware of and, one after the other, they were dismissed.”
“Let me guess. You decided to take advantage.”
“My deals started small. Investing the little I could save after I made sure Jenny had what she needed. But the returns started growing and with it, my ability to take more risks. Jenny hit the road after she finished high school. I kept tabs on her, but she made it clear she needed some space to live her life. That freed me up to put myself through school.”
“And create one of the most profitable businesses in the country.”
His fingers traced an invisible design on the table cloth. “My sister depended on me. Financially at least. Failure wasn’t an option.”
She studied her dinner date, feeling awed by him all over again. Where others would have crumbled, he took his grief and channeled it into a way to change his life. And the cornerstone of it all had been the love for his sister. The need to make sure she was cared for.
“I’m sorry,” she said, leaning forward. “You shouldn’t have had to shoulder so much so young.”
“It made me a fortune,” he said with a self-deprecating smile.
She shook her head. “Some things are more important than money.”
Somber eyes met hers, his silence telling her he didn’t disagree.
The food arrived, giving her something else to focus on. She’d wanted to know more of his past, after all. But the more she learned about him, the more she cared, and that was a slippery slope.
She cleared her throat. “It looks delicious,” she said, staring down at the artwork on a plate that had been laid before her. “Forget about the sex; I’m going to start using you purely for your pasta connections.”
Some warmth trickled back into Darian’s eyes as he smiled. “Doesn’t take much to make you happy.”
She shrugged. “I’m a simple girl at heart.” She twirled some pasta around her fork, lifted it to her lips, and took her first bite.
Heaven was real and she was eating a slice of it on her plate.
“It seems I’ve discovered the key to keeping you content,” Darian said, staring at her instead of attending to his own dinner.
“This is ridiculously good,” she defended.
“Yes, it definitely puts my own attempts to shame,” he said after taking his first bite. “I’ve been coming here for years.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “The chef, Marco, was an old friend of my parents. He always had a little corner shop with the best food I’d ever tasted. When his son decided to get into the business and help his father really turn it into something incredible, I loaned them some of the capital to do it.”
She looked up, pausing in mid-bite.
“Turned out to be a good investment all round.”
“You did that for them?”
Darian shrugged, his eyes on his plate. “They were good people with a good product. I had the money, they had the drive. It was business.”
Glancing around the restaurant, she studied it with new eyes. Darian was the reason it was standing. How many other dreams had he helped come true with the power his money afforded?
“That’s amazing,” she breathed.
“It’s nothing. Eat your pasta before I regret telling you.”
Her gaze swung back to him. He might try to brush off his accomplishment, but she didn’t want to diminish the wonderful thing he’d done. He might say it was just business now, but she wondered how much of him offering the loan had been because it’d sounded like a good investment and how much had been because he cared about the people involved.
“You’ve got a good heart, Darian.”
He didn’t even glance up. “I’m sure my competitors would disagree with you.”
Yes, they might. But she knew the truth. Darian might be a shark in the boardroom, but he also had a heart second to none.
If only she could win a little piece of it.
…
Why had he told her about Marco? Why had he spoken of his past? Giving her an opening to ask about his life had just seemed so…natural.
He stabbed a tortellini with a little too much force. It’d been years since he’d spoken about that investment, and even then it had only happened with the people involved. What was it about Ali that made him yearn to make wrong, illogical choices? This whole date probably fell into that classification, for all he adored seeing her in that sinful dress she was wearing. Tonight he’d wanted…
To spoil her a little bit. To wine and dine her. Learn more about the woman who’d been by his side for years. How had it taken him this long to realize there was tension between her and her family? Four years and yet, he was starting to understand there were depths to his assistant he’d wilfully ignored.
And more disturbing, there was something about working for him she didn’t like to talk about.
Watching her eat, he wondered what it was. Did she want a bigger office or a higher salary? Surely she knew all she had to do was ask.
But what if it wasn’t a problem he could throw money at to fix?
Allison caught his eye and smiled. Warmth spread through him at the sight. Whatever was bothering her, he’d take care of it. No matter the cost, he’d make it go away so she’d never regret a single day they spent together.
A strange contentment filled him as he watched her happily attack the food on her plate. She wasn’t the most refined woman he’d ever dined with, but everything about Ali was real. She didn’t hide what she felt, whether it was a love of pasta or desire for him. There was no pretense to her.
“You’re beautiful,” he said before he could call back the words.
Her gaze swept to his, a glow of pleasure lighting her eyes even as her cheeks turned a rosy pink. He watched the color spread over her skin in fascination. His usual choice of date would take such words as her due. Allison acted like he’d hung the moon just by saying them.
“It’s the dress,” she said, ducking her head. “Gillian got it for me as a present.”
“Remind me to thank her.” He stabbed another tortellini. “Though I always think you’re gorgeous, be it in a little black dress or dishevelled and draped over my desk.”
She choked, hastily setting her wine aside.
Watching her, a smile spread across his face. This was familiar territory. Teasing, playing, this was far safer terrain than prying questions that revealed too much of him and made him curious about too much of her.
“Was that really necessary?” she hissed when she got her voice back.
“Remembering you writhing in pleasure? Oh yes,” he purred.
She shifted in her seat, dropping her eyes back to her plate. “We’ll never make it through dinner if you keep that up,” she murmured.
Lust surged through him. “Is that supposed to be a threat?” he asked. “Or an invitation?”
“If you make me waste this pasta, I might never forgive you.” Her gaze flicked to his and he inhaled sharply at the hunger he read in those dark eyes. One that had nothing to do with food. “Besides,” she said, “you should take advantage of dinner. Later you’re going to need all your strength for what I have planned.”
His cock was eager to respond to such words. Covertly, he rearranged the napkin in his lap to cover his lapse in control. “Promise?” he asked.
She grinned, twirling her fork in her noodles. “Cross my heart.”
“Tell me you’re not going to make me sit through a dessert course.”
“Come on, this place must have the best tiramisu in the city.”
The alarm in her expression was so real he couldn’t help but laugh. “All right,” he agreed. “I can play the gentleman for one dinner.” Because he liked her face lit with joy almost as much as he liked it lit with desire.
And that was a dangerous precedent he did not want to dwell on.
Chapter Twelve
“It was a dinner to die for.” Allison leaned against Gillian’s desk, hugging a file folder to her chest. “Afterwards we went back to my place.”
“Bow chicka wow wow.”
She whacked her friend with the file before admitting, “Yeah, pretty much.”
“So did he spend the night?” Gillian asked.
“No. Said he had an early morning.” It didn’t bother her at all that he had left her apartment at an ungodly hour in the morning rather than stay snuggled in her warm bed. Not one bit.
Gillian shrugged. “Could be true. He’s certainly got enough on his plate. Besides, the dinner sounds like a great step forward. Can’t get too greedy.”
“It was wonderful,” she agreed. “An excellent first date.”
“Who would have thought? Are you sure he’s just looking for friends with benefits?”
That was the question she’d been asking herself all day.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Our dinner felt like it was more than that. And I’m learning more about him, Gil. More than I knew when I was just his assistant.”
Concern flashed across the redhead’s face. “That sounds promising, but make sure you don’t get ahead of yourself, Allison. Don’t fall for him before you know whether or not he’s even capable of reciprocating.”
“Hey, hey, who’s falling? I’m totally keeping my emotions separate.”
Gillian’s mocking snort was not reassuring. “Even you can’t believe that anymore.”
“I’m not in love with Darian.”
It would be the height of foolishness to fall in love with a man she could only be with for a limited time. A man who would probably run in the other direction if she ever even tried to use the L-word. She knew what kind of man Darian was and it wasn’t one who stuck around long term. Of course, she didn’t love him.
Right?
Gillian let out a long sigh. “Sure, you’re not. Just remember not to be so starry-eyed when you see him tonight.”
“We didn’t make any concrete plans,” she hedged.
“Haven’t you two spent most nights together? I very much doubt that will change now. Have fun.”
She grinned. “Will do.” With a wave, she pushed away from the desk and headed back to her own office.
A dozen more wedding RSVPs had come in and she needed to update
the guest list. So far most of the people they’d invited had said they’d make it, despite the short notice. Just went to show the power of the King name.
Once her wedding business was taken care of, Allison opened up the files she’d been working on and tried to lose herself in work. Through it all, however, she couldn’t wipe the happy smile from her lips. Just thinking about her boss had her heart racing. Last night had been about more than just sex. She was sure of it.
And having someone like Darian care about her was an addictive feeling.
She was still smiling an hour later when her day was done and she was preparing to finish up. But when a stranger rapped on her door, her good humor vanished.
“Excuse me.”
Allison looked up from her computer to see what appeared to be a model in her office. Her stomach sank as she took in the beautiful blonde before her.
Maybe she’s the new legal counsel, the optimistic part of her brain said. Showing up right when most of the employees would be clocking out. Right when Darian would be finished with his work.
“Can I help you?” she asked. Even as the words left her mouth, she knew what the blonde would say. What they always said when they showed up in her office like this.
“I’m here to see Darian King.”
Pain tore at her chest, but she bit it back. “Of course you are.”
The blonde offered her a friendly grin, obviously not knowing what she had done.
“I should have an appointment.”
Blood roared in her ears and Allison dutifully pulled up Darian’s calendar. Sure enough, the time was booked off for a meeting marked “private.”
She stared at the label she’d seen so many times before, used whenever one of Darian’s latest conquests had shown up in the office. It shouldn’t surprise her that he was still seeing other people. Really, it shouldn’t hurt.
But it did.
Lifting her chin, she scanned the woman from head to toe. Perfect curls framed the delicate face. A body easily four sizes smaller than hers squeezed into a stylish dress, which just had to be red. Complete with sky-high heels, the woman before her looked as opposite to Allison as one could get.
And polished in a way she could never achieve.
“Darian?” the woman asked again.
Right Billionaire, Wrong Wedding (Sexy Billionaires) Page 13