by Ginny Frost
Releasing his grip, Drew nodded. “Thank you again, sir. I hope to hear from you soon.” Drew grabbed his briefcase and headed quickly out the door, not believing his own arrogance. The same arrogance probably got Terese the event planner position.
If she got the job, maybe she’d call him. Her text today was the first in a week. He’d hung back, not wanting to bug her, but his patience was growing thin. Not that she had to get back together with him after he’d set up her interview, but he hoped for more than a thank you text.
He wasn’t mad at her, per se. Her reaction at the interview had been over the top, to say the least. He was annoyed but not enough to break it off, especially now he knew the whole story. He’d worked too hard to get her attention to give up now.
Why hadn’t she told him about her financial situation? Based on her wardrobe and the restaurants they frequented, he didn’t know she was broke. Broker than broke. About to be on the street broke. If the golden opportunity of the conference center hadn’t come up, he would’ve found her a job some way, somehow. Of course, he should’ve mentioned he was Andrew Drake at some point.
He strolled from the Bursar’s Office, across the parking lot, admiring the view of the Adirondacks. Sliding into his car, he dropped his briefcase in the seat next to him, leaning back in the driver’s seat, his mind still lingering on Terese. Maybe she wasn’t interested in him now that he’d revealed himself. He hated the idea, but it was his own fault in the end. Arrogant and secretive, he’d led her on, and she had every right to kick him to the curb.
But he’d apologized, even quit his job for her. He sighed, starting up the car. And she owed him nothing.
Chapter Twenty
Glancing out his apartment window, Drew needed the challenge of the Niagara Trail. A tough workout to force himself to stop thinking about Terese. She only texted him once since he delivered her invitation to re-interview with Drake. He answered back, but not too quickly. He received crickets in reply.
Sitting down to don his hiking boots, he contemplated for the thousandth time texting her, and with a casual air, asking her how it went. He already knew from Ned, but an excuse was an excuse. Chewing his lip, he pulled out his phone, finger poised when the device vibrated.
Blinking in surprise, Drew sat up. A text. From her.
He shook his head, hating he still jumped at her beck and call. If she’d taught him anything in the past week, it was to be yourself. Rolling his shoulders, he calmed his nerves and clicked the message.
Look out the window.
Curious. Drew rose from his seat and peered out his front window. Down below, a female chauffeur, cap and all, stood poised at attention before an old car.
“What the…?” he asked, glancing at the ten-year-old Civic. The driver remained stock still, arms folded behind her back. He checked his phone again. Nothing more from Terese.
What the hell. He grabbed his jacket and keys and headed down to the street.
He lingered in the doorway of his building, watching the driver with the odd vehicle. The uniform’s thigh-length dark coat cut off just above her long black boots, enough to see fishnet stockings peeking out. Her face was hidden, but he could identify that body. Even with the cap down low covering her eyes. Terese.
“Hey,” he said from the door, waiting, wondering what the hell she was doing.
She snapped to attention, and in a smooth fluid movement, pulled the back door of the Civic open. “Your ride, Mr. Drake.”
Drew scratched his head, stepping forward until he stood right in front of her. “Terese?”
She lowered her head, hiding her expression. “Please, sir. You don’t want to be late.”
Putting one hand on his hip, he rubbed his chin. “What are you up to, young lady?” She tipped her head up enough to flash her eyes. Those baby blues drowned in mischief. A grin spread across his lips, as he squeezed himself into the tiny car.
Terese hustled around to the driver’s seat, started the bucket, and pulled out into traffic. He tried to catch her eye in the rearview, but she avoided him. God, he’d missed her. Sighing with feigned annoyance, Drew stretched out in the back, waiting to see what this crazy, wonderful woman thought of next.
The short drive revealed a surprising destination, Ridgley Park, with some of the roughest rock climbs and steepest trails. Not a Terese destination. He assumed she’d drag him to some fancy restaurant, given her sexy get-up. Or back to her apartment. Of course, if that was her intention, they should’ve stayed at his place. Drew shook his head. She had something in mind. Sooner or later, she’d show her hand.
As he sat thinking, Terese opened his door and resumed her full-attention stance. “This way, sir,” she said, holding her arm out toward one of the trails, one that climbed straight up to the meadow atop the waterfalls.
“Uh, Terese…” he began. She silenced him with a withering stare from under her cap.
“Please make your way to the trail, sir. Your guide will be with you momentarily.”
Yeah, she wasn’t budging. Might as well go along for the ride. At least he had his hiking boots on. Shrugging, he started toward the incline. She didn’t follow. After a few yards moving up the trail, he spun around and walked backward, trying to catch a glimpse of her. The raised trunk lid blocked his view. She was up to something, for sure. If he went back, he’d probably spoil her surprise, but peeking hadn’t been forbidden.
After a minute, she emerged from behind the car, dressed in cute lederhosen, her hair in a long braid. She carried a walking stick and wore hiking boots and a tight white shirt underneath. He stopped moving.
“What the fuck, Terese?”
A quick grin flashed across her face before it melted back into a solemn expression. “This way, please.” She strutted past him and up the hill. Strapped on her back, a primitive leather sack overflowed with food and supplies.
“What are you doing, woman?” he asked, exasperated.
She glanced over her shoulder. “Climbing, sir.” She flipped her braid behind her and headed up the hill. Drew jogged to catch up.
The entire way up the path, Terese said little to nothing. Every time he tried to help her carry some of the load, she brushed him off, even though he could see it taxed her strength. His brain faltered at the bizarre behavior—inviting him to hike but not talking to him or letting him help. Frustration buzzed through him.
At the first mile marker when he asked again, she threw him a dark look. “No.” Her voice tight and aggravated. “I can do it.” After that, he stopped offering, though she really struggled. Damn her stubbornness.
At the second mile marker, they sighted the peak. She waved her arm toward the clearing, a spot Drew knew well. A quiet, secluded meadow jutted out between two waterfalls, like a peninsula.
He passed through overhanging branches hiding the little meadow and caught his breath at the sight before him. A canopy stood by the edge of the field near the guardrail, something out of Arabian Nights or some Bohemian fantasy story. Bedsheets billowed out from a center pole, creating a small, intimate hollow. Vines of flowers and leaves, draped over the top, twined around the pole and the sheets. And every bit of it covered with twinkling lights. Within the makeshift tent lay pillows and blankets. A low table sat in the center. An air of anticipation surrounded the scene.
“This must have taken you hours.” Heat burned on his cheeks, but he smiled at Terese.
“Your destination.” She panted, holding her hand out to the tent.
He waved to the precipice a few yards away. “And that doesn’t bother you?” She smiled tightly and shook her head.
Chuckling to himself, he played along and sat in the middle of the tent, watching her warily. Removing her pack, she arranged it by the table. Then she grabbed a couple bags from it and dashed behind the tent.
“Now what?” he asked with a laugh.
“Just a minute,” she said. He tugged on one of the sheets, only to get his hand slapped. “No peeking!”
In
stead, he grabbed the sack and unfastened the remaining buckles.
“No peeking, Drew.” Terese repeated these words, but this time each syllable poured out like warm honey. A low rumble escaped his lips, picturing her next outfit.
“You better hurry up, woman,” he teased. “I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”
“Hmmm,” she said, as she rounded the corner of the tent. His jaw hit the ground.
Her dress, if you could call it that, appeared to be bits of green fabric stapled together to cover her most intimate parts. It was rough, ragged, and damn sexy. She stalked toward him barefoot, her hair loose, flowing around her.
“Can I serve you?” she asked, dropping to her knees before him in a low bow.
Words died in his throat.
****
Terese paused, drinking in Drew’s reaction. He was into it. She rose slowly and shifted to the food basket. Sawyer from Stanton Coffee put together the food with the promise she wouldn’t forget him now she might be a big-time event planner. Her lips twitched.
Yeah, the job. She glanced over at the man who’d made it happen. The man who she owed so much and whom she treated like crap for a stupid mistake. From the little smile playing on his lips, he seemed to accept her apology.
Opening the basket, she removed a bowl of fruit, a bottle of wine, and two glasses. Drew watched her intently as she poured the wine and prepped the fruit. Task complete, she stood and slid behind him, placing the bowl and glasses on the table. She propped some pillows on her lap and reclined him back against her.
Plucking a grape from the bowl, she placed it in his mouth. A loud moan escaped his lips as he closed his eyes and savored the fruit. Seducing him was the easy part. Apologizing for being a complete bitch might be much more difficult. Her hand shook as she reached for his glass. Holding back her fluttering emotions, she took her time and fed him wine and fruit for a bit.
Finally, Drew broke the silence. “So…” He sat up and faced her.
Terese hung her head, afraid of what she wanted to say and how he might react. Their whole relationship had been based on mindless sex. And that was her fault. She never took the time to get to know him beyond what he looked like naked.
“Hiking in the heights? You? Never in a million years.” His tone jovial, light.
Terese licked her lips. “You like hiking and outdoorsy stuff so…” She met his gaze and saw nothing but kindness. Her pulse slowed ever so slightly.
He smiled. “Thank you.”
She tucked her hair over her shoulder, failing at playing up the seduction. “Yeah, no big deal.” Flippantly, she waved his words away.
His hand grasped hers, and he tilted his head to meet her averted eyes. “Don’t do that, Terese,” he said, and her stomach trembled. “Don’t belittle this.” He gestured to the tent. “It must have taken you some serious effort to pull it off.”
She shrugged, turning away again. God, she couldn’t do it. He was so sweet, kind, and not calling her on her bullshit. She didn’t deserve such a man.
He squeezed her hand. Pushing the pillows aside, he curled against her. Hating the pressing weight of cliffs behind the tent, she still let him draw her into his lap. Settling in, she marveled how safe she felt in his arms.
“Amazing,” he whispered into her hair, as he held her tight. “So what did I do to deserve this?”
She drew in a cleansing breath and tipped back to meet his gaze. He deserved the truth said to his face.
“I’m so sorry, Drew. I overreacted. I made such a mess of everything. I threw you under the bus for not being honest, but I wasn’t either. I didn’t share anything with you—my financial situation, my job, the interview. If I’d told you…”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “Stop. We’d just met. I never expected you to share your whole life story with me after a week.”
She wrapped her hand around his, giving his palm a little kiss. “The thing is…I was a complete bitch to you at the interview. I threw a tantrum like a little girl and acted like some unprofessional twit.” He shook his head, but she plowed on, determined to finish.
“I acted like a fool, an ungrateful child, and you still got me a new interview.” Her breath burst out in a pant as she held back the tears. “And they offered me the job. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you. I can’t thank you enough…but I don’t think I can take the job now. You told me the story about quitting, but I know you’d never do that. Leaving your father’s company is insanity.”
She paused for a breath, and he tried to speak. Placing her fingers against his lip, she pressed on. “I don’t want to mess anything else up for you, like having your crazy girlfriend working for you.” She blinked, gazing down at their entwined hands. “I can’t throw ‘us’ away for a job.”
He squeezed her shoulders, pressing her against him, and lifted her hand to his lips. He kissed her long and slow on the back of her knuckles. Terese’s stomach clenched as heat rushed through her.
“I wish you’d said something before.” His voice low, almost a whisper. Tightness replaced the heat in her belly. No. She’d already blown it. Dammit.
“Drew, I…” The tears fell against her will. “Drew, I’m so sorry. I…”
“I would’ve so liked to work with my crazy girlfriend but…” He sighed and dropped her hand. She blinked, knowing she’d failed. She’d lost him and less importantly the job. She shook her head at her stupidity.
Drew continued. “I really did quit. In fact, I interviewed at University of Iverton.” She stared at him gape-mouthed, uncomprehending. He cupped her face in his hands. “I quit, for you. For us. For this.”
Twisting her head back, Terese gazed deep into Drew’s eyes. The twinkle there said it was true and he’d forgiven her. Spinning to face him, she wrapped her arms tightly around him. A war between true guilt and extreme happiness battled in her heart. Forgiveness had been the main goal of the cliffside stunt. Being brave, apologizing, and seeing if their relationship could be salvaged.
“Really?” she asked anyway.
The side of his mouth twitched. “Really, really.”
Pulling back, she met his stare. A thousand words passed between them without uttering a sound. He forgave her with that one look, told her they had years together if she wanted. Tears welled in her eyes.
Something inside her chest unlocked, and relief coursed through her veins as the tension flew from her body and her muscles uncoiled. She probably hadn’t needed to humiliate herself. But honestly, the adventure and the costumes had been fun. His gesture hadn’t been merely an apology for the interview but a statement. Of love? Maybe.
Taking the gamble, she shifted, moving forward until their lips met, a soft, quiet little kiss, and she drank him in.
****
Drew kissed her back, loving the feeling of her lips on his again. But she was kidding herself if she thought one little kiss would heal everything. They both were entitled to some serious make-up sex. Especially considering where they were and what she was wearing. He let the kiss end without pressing her, waiting to see what she would do.
As expected, she pouted. Drew read her mind. “That’s it?” Suppressing a laugh, he roughly dipped her backward into the pillows. She squeaked, a very unlike-Terese sound. He loved making her do things she didn’t usually do.
“Didn’t we say something about quelling your fear with a positive experience?” He pressed tiny kisses down her neck while restraining her hands together in his lap.
Terese, with all her assertiveness, didn’t flinch at his restraint of her hands. She sighed deeply. “I guess the cave didn’t cure me.” Turning her head away, she paused, but also gave him better access to her neck. He nibbled down to her shoulder.
“No?” he asked, removing his lips from her skin. He blew a breath of air across her neck and collarbone where he’d deposited all those kisses. She shivered, her drama-girl expression almost breaking.
Shrugging one shoulder, she sighed again. “I guess
I’ll require multiple therapy sessions to get over my fear of heights.”
Drew accepted the challenge. Saying nothing more, he released her hands. His fingers nimbly worked at the skimpy fabric of her dress. Kissing along her shoulder and down her arm, he sensed a tension building in her. As he tried to draw the sleeve—what there was of it—off her arm, she stopped him, sitting up.
“No,” she said firmly. “Today isn’t about me. It’s for you. If I’m going to play slave girl…” He flinched at the term, his nose wrinkling. Terese twisted her lips. “Uh, harem girl?” she corrected. He shook his head, still not liking it. “Bohemian princess?”
“Better.”
Flipping her hair, she continued, “If I’m going to play Bohemian Princess, then I play the role a certain way.”
“Terese.” He knelt next to her. “Why don’t we forget the posturing, costumes, and games.” Her turn to flinch. “As much as I appreciate the effort you put into this—and trust me I love the outfits—I want to be with you, only you.”
She frowned. “But…” She waved a hand at the tent and the cliffside.
“It’s icing.” He pressed his hands to the sides of her face, pulling her in for a long, slow kiss. She fell against him, as if the kiss had melted her. “You and me in this gorgeous setting. Let’s see what happens.”
“Fine,” she said, the soft whispery romanticism gone from her voice. He sat back on his heels, wondering if he’d handled it wrong. Maybe he should’ve played her game. But he didn’t want to start again on a false foot. He wanted their relationship to be honest, not based on fantasies.
She stood, hands on her hips. “You want the real Terese?” He nodded, his nerves screaming as real fear buried itself in his heart. He never thought he’d lost her, even when she’d stopped talking to him. But now, when he ended her game, heartbreak seemed a breath away.
“Here I am.” With a simple wiggle of her arms and shift of her hips, the green dress fell from her body. She wore nothing underneath. “It’s been two weeks, mister. Get over here,” she ordered.