He gave her an honest answer. “It’s flat.”
She inclined her head slightly. “Okay, I agree with that. But your editing makes it flatter.”
“I’m trying.” He wasn’t a writer, though Lord knew he’d been trying all week.
She sighed. “I’m trying too, despite what you may think.” She studied him, mischief and life sparkling in her eyes. “The evidence seems to be pointing to the unassailable truth that being handcuffed to my desk isn’t going to fix the problem. But I think I have an idea about what might help me inject some life into my writing.”
“What?” He thought of the kiss they’d shared, and the story she’d written immediately after that. It had been her best story, full of passion and life. Yes, it had still been a little jaded and cynical, but it had been alive. Did she want more kissing? For the company, he could make the sacrifice. Hell, yeah, he could.
“Getting out of here and enjoying myself. Finding a reason to be happy.” She put a finger over his mouth when he started to speak. “Not forever. Just for a few hours. We’ll be back in time to get the story written. I just need to take a break and get outside with sane people. I need to experience fresh air without stalking the world looking for my next victims. You need to release me. Now.”
He wrapped his hand around hers and removed it from his lips, contemplating for a moment what she’d do if he took her hand and kissed each fingertip one by one…
“So? Can I go?” She picked up her purse and looked at him expectantly.
Regret flickered through him and he released her hand. “You’re so eager to be relieved of my company?”
“Yes.” She answered quickly. Too quickly, perhaps, suggesting that she was trying to convince herself of that fact? Or maybe he was just deluding himself that he wasn’t the only one feeling a dangerous spark between them.
He managed a rueful smile and leaned back in his chair. “Thanks. I didn’t need my ego anyway.”
She snorted. “Give me a break. A herd of elephants couldn’t damage that thing.”
He frowned. So, she thought he was a pain in the butt, too obsessed with work, a bad manager and he had a big ego? What kind of image had he been presenting? That wasn’t who he was…was it? “Fine. You want to go out? Let’s go.”
“With you?” Her eyes widened, and she looked almost panicked. “I meant for me to go alone.”
“Maybe I need to get out of here too.” Yeah, maybe he didn’t want to be at work. It was Saturday evening, after all. Why the hell should he be at work when Angie was running around the city? “What do you want to do?” Get inspired at my condo?
He cursed immediately. What kind of thought was that? Since the kiss, he’d been in complete control around Angie. He hadn’t trailed his fingers over her arm when she’d been leaning across him to get something from the other side of the desk. He’d stopped himself from kissing her earlobe when her snowman earrings had caught his eye. And certainly he had refrained from giving her a backrub when she’d complained about sitting too long. So why in the hell had he thought about escorting her back to his condo and taking that kiss to the next level?
“I was thinking Christmas shopping,” she said, apparently oblivious to the lascivious turn of his thoughts. “I need to buy Roger some arsenic.”
He scowled at her joke. “He’s not worth the money.” Why did she care so much about Roger? Didn’t she know that he simply wasn’t worth it? “Though it would probably give me the company if you killed him, so maybe it’s not such a bad idea…”
She rolled her eyes at him as she shrugged on her jacket. “You and your precious company. See? It’s just like I said. You have a one-track mind.”
“No, I don’t.” He pushed back from her desk and caught the shoulders of her coat to help her into it. He slid it easily over her shoulders, and for a split second, let his hands linger. Her eyes widened, and he saw the pulse in her throat quicken.
He swore under his breath. Was she actually as affected by their intimacy as he was? Desire flared deep and powerfully within him, and he tightened his grip on her shoulders. “Angie—”
“I’m going Christmas shopping.” She pulled back, and he reluctantly let his hands slide off her. “And I really wasn’t planning on having you join me.”
Damn. It was pissing him off that she wanted to get away from him so badly. “Why not? What if you run into an interview candidate?”
Her mouth opened to protest, so he quickly moved on to a non-work rationale. “Besides, you’re so anti-Christmas these days that you’ll probably survive one store, kick a Santa in the nuts and then bail for home, which would completely defeat the purpose of taking a break from the office. I’m going along to make sure you have some fun.” All in the name of the story. That’s what it was all about. Just business. He had a professional interest in making sure she lightened up enough to write something truly phenomenal because the twaddle they were creating now was flat and wouldn’t get them a contract.
See? It was all about work.
Which it was, but it was also a complete lie. He wanted to be with her. He wanted to be the one to bring light and happiness back into her eyes. Not for work, but because he wanted to be that guy. He could do it. Give him one hour, and the old Angie would be back. He would accept nothing less of himself.
She was staring at him. “You’re really going to let me go shopping?”
“Sure I am. You’re right that we’re not making these stories any better with this approach, so let’s try something else.” He grabbed his overcoat from the back of her office door and threw it over his arm. “Let’s go. I have shopping to do as well.”
*
“I hate shopping. Hate it.” Angie squeezed through the crowd of people lining the aisles of Macy’s. “I’m going to be doing Internet shopping from now on.” Must get out. Must find freedom. She barely dodged a handbag being thrown from what looked like a mother to her teenage daughter. People were cranky, shouting at each other, grumbling over the long checkout lines, and even the store clerks were snappy as they tried to straighten merchandise that looked like a typhoon had ripped it from its place. “Either that or abandon present-giving altogether. It’s kind of a commercial proposition, anyway, isn’t it?”
“Except diamonds. That’s not commercial.” Kyle had his hand on her lower back and was providing a buffer between her and the crowds, as he had been since they’d walked into the store. He’d been whispering comical observations about the crowds all evening, making her laugh despite the chaos. She didn’t want to be shopping, but there was something about braving the holiday crowds with Kyle that had driven away her bad mood and made her feel relaxed and a little silly. “Diamonds are about love and everything pure.”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you ever forget about work?” she teased him.
“According to you, never.” He winked as he guided her toward an exit. “Let’s go to Tiffany’s and scope out the competition. Maybe you’ll get inspired.”
Angie grimaced, stiffening at the reminder of the stories she was having such trouble writing. “I went to Tiffany’s with Heidi last week. It’s just jewelry.”
“Ah, but you didn’t go with me and get my unique perspective.” They reached the sidewalk, but it wasn’t any less crowded. The line to walk by the store window displays was all the way around the corner, and a Salvation Army volunteer was standing on the corner ringing his bell.
Kyle dumped something in the bucket as they walked by, then he stopped. “I forgot. I need to get my mom a nightgown.” He turned to go back to Macy’s. “Come on.”
Angie stopped “No way. I’m not risking my life for those crowds again.”
He grinned, walked over to her, slung his arm around her neck to anchor her to his side, then started back into the store. “I’ll protect you, my fair maiden.”
Fair maiden? Okay, so being smashed up against Kyle might be sufficient justification to brave the crowds again. She sighed as she let him clear a path for them. W
hat was she doing?
She was falling for him again, that’s what she was doing.
She’d been so removed from him this week, trying hard to see him as an autocratic workaholic hated by the world. Yet it had taken only a few minutes of being out of the office and seeing his dimples to make her feet start tap dancing to songs of love.
No, not love.
Lust.
No way would she love him.
“Okay, here we go.” He stopped next to a rack of flannel nightgowns. “Navy blue. Size extra large. Perfect.”
Angie grabbed his hand as he went for the item. “Not so fast.”
He lifted his brow. “You don’t like it? It’s conservative, practical. Perfect for my mom.”
“Is she married?”
He frowned. “Yeah, to her second husband. Why? I’m not getting him the nightgown.” He grinned at his own joke.
“Well, maybe you should.”
“He’s not a cross-dresser. I don’t think he’d want it.”
“No, he wouldn’t want the flannel one, I agree.” Angie strolled over toward the other side of the lingerie section, where lace, silk and spaghetti straps were in abundance. “He might, however, enjoy something from here.” She picked up a pale blue nightie with a lace bodice and held it up. “This is what you should get your mom.” She turned to show it to him, only to find him still standing at the flannel nightgowns, a look of horror on his face.
She waved it at him, and he shook his head and turned back to the rack of flannel nightgowns and started pawing desperately through the red plaid.
Angie started to laugh. And to think this was the man who claimed to know all about romance, at least to the point of being a love muse. She waved the sexy nightie cheerfully so that the silk fluttered. “Hey. Just because she’s your mom doesn’t mean she doesn’t like being sexy. And I’m sure your stepdad would appreciate a little heat in the bedroom just as much as you would.”
“Stop it!” He backed up, stumbling over a bin of bikini underwear. “My mother is not wearing that.”
Angie grinned as she walked across the store to where Kyle was hiding. “If I was in your bed, would you rather I was wearing this flannel nightgown—” She held up the item he’d thrust at her so mercilessly. “—or this sexy little number?” It really wasn’t even that sexy. Demure, with a little bit of naughtiness mixed in.
Kyle’s eyes went black. “You? I’d take you naked.”
Electricity jolted through her and desire pooled in her belly. Not just desire. Raw, pulsating need and want. Uh, oh… Angie swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. She had to stay focused. Nothing good could come of discussing her nakedness with Kyle. “Before you got me naked,” she clarified. “As a male, would you prefer your woman to be in flannel or silk?”
His gaze was so intense she felt like he could see right through her clothes to the matching black lace panties and bra she’d put on this morning to try to get in the romance mood. “Silk.” His voice was husky, deep, and sent chills down her spine.
She took a deep breath. “Well, then, that’s what we should get for your mom. She’s a woman like I am, and your stepdad is a man like you.”
“I’m not thinking about my mom.” But it wasn’t a protest. It was an arrogant statement that said very clearly who he was thinking about.
She lifted her chin and took a step toward him. She knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn’t stop herself. She didn’t want to stop herself. “You couldn’t even begin to imagine what I’d be like in your bed,” she said, letting her voice go a little soft and throaty. “So don’t bother guessing.”
His hands snaked out and grabbed her waist, hauling her up against him before she could step away. “Tell me.” His lips were hovering over hers, his breath mingling with hers. “Tell me what you’d be like in my bed, Angie.”
She braced her hands on his arms, desire leaping through her at the feel of his muscles beneath her hands. Hard. Like steel. Raw, manly, steel. Oh, Lordy. She was in way over her head. Not that she could let him know it. She couldn’t let him know that he could still get to her. “Words can’t do it justice,” she managed to say. “I’d have to show you.”
His grip tightened on her hips, and his gaze went to her lips. “Then show me.” His voice was husky and hoarse, as if he were being tormented by the vision of her naked in his bed.
Oh, God. Show him? Suddenly, the image of his bed flashed through her mind. Those tousled sheets. The mattress sinking beneath her weight as he set her on the bed… Heat flushed her skin and she let him pull her closer, so her belly was pressed against his. “Show you? I’d love to.”
He sucked in his breath and he locked a hand behind the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Holy crap. He was going to kiss her! Right in the store in front of everyone!
No, no, no. She couldn’t do this. She’d never recover. She set one hand on his chest, blocking him. “Sorry, but that’s not going to happen.” At the frustrated look in his eyes, she couldn’t help but add a little tease by trailing her finger over his lips. “I’ve already resolved that I wouldn’t allow you to inspire me anymore.”
“I’m not talking about inspiring anyone. I just want you. This has nothing to do with work.” His fingers were stroking the back of her neck now, a sensual caress that was sending chills down her spine.
Oh, wow. Was this moment simply about them? About the heat burning up the air between them? Not about work or her stories? Did he want her the way she wanted him, pure and simple? Not that there was anything simple about the feelings racing through her.
No, no, no, she couldn’t do this! She couldn’t get involved with him.
“I can’t kiss you,” she whispered. The finger she’d been trailing over his lips was suddenly in his mouth, caught in a suckling whirlwind of moist heat. “Um…”
“You’re the one who brought it up.” His voice was hoarse, tight, his tongue winding around her fingertip.
“Brought what up?” How could he speak with her fingers in his mouth? He must do that a lot—suck on women’s fingers. An expert. Fierce jealousy roared through her at the idea of Kyle with other women. She had a sudden, burning need to claim him, to make him hers, to imprint herself onto him so no other woman would ever be able to compete with her in his mind.
Oh, damn. That wasn’t good. She didn’t want to be having possessive thoughts about Kyle!
“You. Me. My bed. Nakedness,” he said, lowering his head until his mouth was a fraction of an inch from hers. “You brought it all up.”
She could feel the warmth of his breath on her lips, the heat of his mouth, the intensity of his persona. Anticipation rushed through her, followed by an almost insatiable need, and she knew he was doing it on purpose. Seducing her without even kissing her. The man knew what he was doing.
She’d never been ravished by an expert lover before. With the stories Heidi told about Quinn’s talents in the bedroom, Angie was well aware that she’d been missing out. Maybe that was why she couldn’t write the romance stories for Swift. Because she hadn’t truly experienced mind-numbing lovemaking.
Perhaps in the name of research…
Oh, no. What was she thinking?
Chapter Seven
Shopping for diamonds? A way to find out what really makes your true love tick.
–Angie Miller, somewhat less anti-diamond
One quick kiss. Just to assess whether he was truly an expert. To see what it would be like to surrender to him for just a brief moment. And to prove it was lust, not love, that was making her nipples snap to attention. You can do it, Angie.
She let the nightgowns drop to the floor, mashed her hands into the front of his jacket and tugged him down toward her.
He came.
And when his lips caught hers, there was no doubt about the fire racing through her body. Oh, God. Every cell in her body was exploding with heat that seemed to cascade like fireworks. More, more. She needed more.
Kyle hooked his arm around
her back and hauled her against him, dominating the kiss, as if he were as desperate for her as she was for him. It wasn’t simply a kiss. It was the culmination of three years of wanting, finally unleashed. There was no holding back, no restraint, just raw, unyielding need for more.
She pressed her body against his, trying to squeeze every last inch of contact into the kiss. More kiss, more tongue. More Kyle.
This was it. Kyle was what she wanted. It didn’t matter if he was going to break her heart, or if she was falling too soon into the arms of another man before she’d proven she didn’t need a male muse to write. All that mattered was him.
“Excuse me. Are you going to be buying one of those?”
The interruption broke through the spell Kyle was weaving around them, a cold wind breaking through the warmth that had been cradling her so securely. Argh! Was it any wonder she’d always hated salespeople? Did it look like she needed a commission-based piranha assisting her right now?
But Kyle broke the kiss and dropped his hands from her body. Angie growled and glared at the saleswoman with her precious beige suit and her overly cheerful smile. Yeah, okay, so she was definitely not enjoying her first moment of sexual frustration.
Kyle muttered something and retrieved the garments from the floor, giving Angie a moment to take a deep breath and let her blood stop bubbling. By the time he was handing the flannel nightgown to the saleswoman, Angie had regained control of her brain. “No, he’s buying this one.” She put the silk one into the saleswoman’s hand. “You know men. They think their moms aren’t sexual beings.”
The saleswoman’s plastered smile faltered slightly, but recovered nicely. “All women love to feel sexy.”
“Exactly.” She stepped on Kyle’s toe when he started to protest and distracted him with a glaring contest long enough for the saleswoman to march over to her register and start ringing him up.
Jingle This! Page 9