A Calculated Seduction

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A Calculated Seduction Page 6

by Melissa Schroeder


  He knew better than to trust emotions when involved with women. His own parents had been the perfect example. They both wanted one thing—money. When his father failed at business, their marriage had fallen apart. Growing up with two people who refused to divorce, but hated each other, hadn’t been fun. But it had taught him never to trust emotion. His ex-fiancée had solidified the lesson. Fiona was a rich man’s daughter and wanted to be a rich man’s wife. Problem was, she didn’t expect fidelity from him. Probably because he knew not to expect it from her.

  “Eth...er, Mr. MacMillan. What are you doing here?” Her eyes widened behind her glasses when she realized how rude the question sounded. “What I mean was—”

  “No, that’s okay. I was driving around and thought I’d stop by. If I’m interrupting...”

  “Oh, no. Just watching a movie.”

  She didn’t move or ask him in. She just stood there, the warm light casting a glow to her skin. Her shirt was loose, too big to even show any interesting curves, but her little pants hugged her thighs and gave him a great view of her shapely legs. His cock twitched and he had to fight the urge to grab her and kiss her until she forgot her last name.

  “Dulcy?”

  “Oh, oh. Would you like to come in?”

  The tone in her voice wasn’t especially welcoming. But she stepped back and pulled the door open. The warmth of her apartment seeped into him the moment he stepped across the threshold. Not just the temperature. She had decorated the place with reds, yellows and oranges. Various lamps and candles littered her end tables and coffee table. Anyone who walked in would feel comfortable upon entering.

  “I was just watching Father Goose.” She shut the door and followed him to the couch. “Why don’t you have a seat? Would you like a soda?”

  “That sounds great.”

  He settled on the yellow flowered couch. His eyes took in the room, the knickknacks, the pictures, then his gaze roamed to the bed in the alcove. Immediately, a vision of Dulcy, rolling around in the bed, her hair a tangle of curls, her skin warm from his loving, exploded in his mind. His blood warmed and drained to his dick. He gulped, then drew in a deep breath.

  What was he doing here? What impulse drove him over here on a Saturday night? He couldn’t rein in his usually controllable urges. He’d grown up in a family where spur of the moment actions weren’t appreciated. Restlessness consumed him. He’d paced through his house and decided a drive would be good. Without realizing it, he ended up at Dulcy’s apartment complex.

  If he’d been that lonely, he could easily have called Ms. Marcy Williams. She’d definitely made sure he knew she was free this weekend. She’d stopped by his office late last night to complain of her dateless weekend. But the idea of spending time with a woman, who wanted nothing but a good time and sex, left him feeling oddly flat. He wanted to spend time with a woman who wanted more, expected more.

  A woman like Dulcy.

  “Here you go,” Dulcy said, handing him a glass filled with ice and soda. She settled on the chair, not the couch. An uncomfortable silence descended. The only sounds were the television and the ice clinking in their glasses. Ethan avoided eye contact.

  Dulcy cleared her throat. He looked at her. Her hair was pulled off her face by some kind of stretchy headband. She wore no makeup, but he couldn’t deny his pulse beating out of control and the slow roll of lust churning his gut.

  “Mr. MacMillan, you want to explain what you’re doing here?”

  Embarrassed by the impulsive actions that drove him to her apartment, he shrugged. Not wanting to tell her this compulsion started out with the investigation and thoughts of his parents’ loveless marriage, he said the first thing that popped into his mind.

  “I was wondering about the Gala.”

  She frowned, then sighed. “What about the Gala?”

  Good question. “I wanted to make sure everything is going as planned.”

  “Mr. MacMillan—”

  “Couldn’t you call me by my first name, Dulcy? It’s after hours. I promise not to tell anyone.” He smiled and her frown deepened.

  “I don’t think that’s a very good idea. Fraternization is frowned upon at the company.”

  Relief lightened her expression and he bit back a growl. “Liar. ”

  She set her drink down on the end table with a click. “Mr. MacMillan...” He opened his mouth to argue, so she changed tactics. “Ethan. I know it’s not discouraged per se, but when there’s a supervisor involved, especially the CEO, it wouldn’t be a good idea.”

  “Dulcy, you would only be using my first name. It isn’t like I asked you into my bed.”

  Her face flushed. He glanced at her bed, the memories of his fantasy coming back to life. Then he looked back to her face. The shade of red wasn’t particularly attractive. So there was no reason for his heart to stutter at the sight of her. He swallowed and tried to remember the mission. This woman was helping someone steal from his uncle. He needed her relaxed. From the wary look in her eyes, he was far from gaining her trust.

  Guilt would work. “Dulcy, I...I find myself in a town where I don’t know anyone. Bill and Maude asked me out with them tonight. How sad is that?”

  Her face softened into a smile and she chuckled. “They asked me too. Apparently, we’re both pretty sad if two senior citizens think they need to entertain us on a Saturday night.” She picked up a glass bowl filled with buttery popcorn. “Help yourself to the popcorn. I always make too much anyway.”

  He grabbed a handful, popping a few kernels in his mouth. “So, you had no plans for tonight?”

  She shook her head without taking her eyes from the television screen.

  “I find it hard to believe Anderson didn’t want to go out tonight. ”

  Her head whipped around, her eyes narrowed and the smiled faded from her face. Not a smooth move. But the jealousy pumping through him took control of his rational thoughts and shoved them to the back of his mind. And he had to know where the man was. Was he embezzling from him right at that moment? Was he out with another woman?

  Was Anderson going to show up and interrupt Ethan’s seduction?

  Whoa. Not a good idea to think along those lines. Even if his cock hardened at the thought of grabbing her and dragging to her bed. He was investigating her, not sleeping with her. Of course, if he did manage to get her into bed, they wouldn’t be doing much sleeping.

  Dammit. He’d never slept with a suspect and didn’t plan to start. Contemplating things like that would only lead to trouble. Trouble that would keep him occupied for the entire night.

  “I’ve told you, Pete and I are good friends.”

  She broke his thoughts of beds and seductions, both of which involved the woman, with that one comment.

  “So, you can call him by his first name?”

  * * * *

  Dulcy stared at Ethan and wondered if he’d been hit in the head lately. The conversation they were having made no sense, especially when you factor in he was here on a Saturday night. Irritation balled in her stomach, souring the popcorn she’d just been enjoying. It never failed. She would either embarrass herself, or he would irritate her. Or both. And there was no reason for her nipples to tighten, or her heart to skip an Irish jig when she was so irritated by him. She was sick.

  “Pete and I are on the same level in management. Plus, I don’t have to worry...”

  About being seduced by him. She could think it, and good Lord she was thinking about it too much. And there was no way she would say it to Ethan MacMillan. He saw her as a challenge. That was it. She was an oddity to someone like Ethan because she resisted him. Women threw themselves at him all the time. If he knew he was winning the battle, there could be some major problems.

  Major problems that would no doubt include a night of great sex and a broken heart—hers.

  “Don’t have to worry about what?” he asked, his voice had dipped an octave and danced along her nerve endings.

  She shook her head, unable to form any
words. All the moisture had dried up in her mouth and her heart not only skipped a beat, but tripled in speed. Why the hell was she worrying about her heart? She wasn’t even close to falling in love with the man.

  But you could fall in love with him, whispered the voice in her head.

  Shut up.

  Distance. That’s what she needed. She ignored the warmth that flooded her senses at the sight of his windblown hair. There was something just so male about him. From the way he walked, to the clothes he wore, to the very scent of him. Yes, that was the most disturbing thing about him. His cologne, the Texas night air, and brooding male mixed together had sent her hormones jumping.

  “Mr. Mac...Ethan. You have to understand, there are already rumors running around the office.” His smile dimmed. “I don’t need any aggravation. When my father died, I promised myself I’d make it on my own. I had to. So, when Bill offered me a job I wasn’t qualified for, I refused and worked my way up the ladder. I won’t have people thinking I kept my job with you for other reasons. ”

  He studied her silently. The only sound in her apartment was a loud commercial for a local car dealership. She resisted the urge to sit in the chair. Her body warmed, responding to the heat evident in his eyes. Just one look, and her body craved his touch, wanted his lips on hers, his hands on her skin. Her panties dampened as he continued to stare at her.

  After a moment, he looked away. She breathed deeply and sat down.

  He sighed. “I guess I should head home.”

  They stood at the same time, almost knocking into each other. Her knees bumped against his. His chest grazed her breasts. The heat in her stomach slid lower. Her sex pulsed as a rush of warm blood rushed through her. She yearned to lean closer, allow him to pull her against his chest.

  Before she could make a fool out of herself, she stepped back. She bumped into the chair. She glanced up and froze. Sexual intent so potent, she felt it to the tips of her toes, darkened his eyes. Need like she’d never felt before prickled her senses and left her breathless.

  But before she could act, he stepped away, allowing her to walk in front of him. Had she been mistaken? Maybe she’d misread his intentions.

  Down deep, close to her soul, she knew she hadn’t. She knew he wanted her as much as she wanted him, but he still controlled his emotions. He apparently hadn’t been so moved he just grabbed her and threw her on the bed to have his way with her.

  Images of the two of them on her bed flashed through her mind, sending a wave of tingling heat throughout her body. Oh, she had to stop this. A man who could control his actions to that extent would never jump into bed without an alternative reason.

  She was relieved when she opened the door without begging for him to kiss her. She’d feel better when he was gone.

  Temptation would no longer threaten her sanity with him out of her vicinity.

  “I guess I’ll see you on Monday,” she said to his chest.

  He slid his finger beneath her chin and raised it.

  “It you’re going to say goodnight, Dulcy, say it to me, not my chest. ”

  Amusement laced his voice. The moment she made eye contact, he leaned forward and brushed his mouth against hers. She shivered. This was unlike the kiss in the office. That kiss was heat and anger and pure basic lust. The heat was there, and definitely the lust, but there was something else. Something forbidden. Something much scarier than the lust that had controlled them before.

  With a tenderness she didn’t think he’d possessed, he nipped at her lips. Little kisses, so tender it almost did her in. His eyes remained open, shining with a different kind of heat than before. There was a gentle, almost reverent, quality to it. Before she could deepen the kiss, he was moving away from her.

  He took a determined step back. “I’ll see you Monday, Dulcy. ”

  He turned away and she watched as he walked down the steps and got in his car. After he drove away, she closed the door and leaned against it. Her lips still tingled. Oh, this was horrible. She could protect herself from his lust. But she’d be a fool to think she could control her feelings after a kiss like that. Because, lurking beneath her skin, deep in her soul, she craved the sweetness he’d offered.

  She lifted her fingers and pressed them against her lips. Her heart tumbled and almost dropped to her toes. She couldn’t fall in love with Ethan MacMillan. No matter what she wanted, she knew he saw her as a game, a contest to win.

  Now, if she could just remember her own warning the next time he kissed her.

  Chapter Seven

  “Well, what I can’t understand is why you’re going to the Gala with your boss,” Barbie said at brunch the next day. They were seated on the terrace at one of Dulcy’s favorite restaurants in Dallas. She enjoyed the magnificent food as well as the relaxed atmosphere. But for some reason, she’d hardly eaten any of her Denver omelet.

  Dulcy sighed and waited for the waiter to refill her coffee cup. The bright sunlight hurt her eyes. She hadn’t had much sleep because thoughts of Ethan and his parting kiss had haunted her. Every time she closed her eyes, she’d see the heat in his. When she finally fell asleep, dreams of him drove her insane. Waking with the memory of his hands on her breasts, her mouth on his skin...

  “Earth to Dulcy,” Tori said, snapping her fingers in front of Dulcy’s face.

  She cleared her throat. “Sorry, what did you say?”

  “I said, I saw a picture of your new boss in the paper. He was with Bill at some kind of charity function. That man is yummy.”

  Yeah, he was. And she could have had him for dessert, but she turned him down. If she hadn’t been so positive she’d only wind up being hurt in the end, she’d have feasted on him. She would love to lick him from end to end, concentrating on various body parts. Her face heated. Really, she needed to control these lurid thoughts. Especially when she was with other people.

  “Mr. MacMillan is very attractive. But this is just like when I went with Bill. Both of us have to be there early and he lives close to me.”

  She shrugged.

  “I’d like to meet him. He’s definitely my type of my man,” Tori remarked.

  Irritation prickled her skin so her words came out more forcefully then she intended. “He’s not your type.”

  Tori glanced at her, surprise lighting her blue eyes. “And what would you know about my type?”

  “I know you wouldn’t like a man you couldn’t control. I promise you, there wouldn’t be any hope of doing that with Ethan MacMillan. I’ve never seen a man more in control over everything in his life.”

  “I don’t date men I can control,” Tori said. “I just meant that your Mr. MacMillan and I have more in common than the two of you. ”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Dulcy, honey, you look great with your new haircut, but sweety, you could never handle a man like MacMillan,” Barbie said. “He’s way out of your league.”

  “And what does that have to do with the two of you?” She looked from one stepsister to the other. Both of them were so perfect, it almost pained her to look at them. Two years apart in age, people always mistook them for twins. Blonde hair, long and curly, always dressed in warm bright colors, the two of them never had a hair out of place or showed any nervousness. Something they’d learned at their mama’s knee.

  “Girls,” Clarice admonished. “You’re going about this all wrong.”

  “Clarice, what the heck are you talking about?”

  “Honey, we’re worried about you.”

  She studied the perfect faces that studied her in return.

  “Worried? Why would you be worried about me?”

  “You’ve been working a lot of late nights, all with this new boss and now you’re going to the Gala with him. I know a few people in Houston who know him and they say he goes through women faster than I go through money.” She sipped her mimosa.

  “And then there was that fiancée.”

  Her world tilted. He’ d been engaged? “Fiancée?”


  “Fiona Jackson. He broke it off and she claimed he cheated on her.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t know what to feel. Betrayal he’d never told her? Happiness he was no longer engaged? The two emotions tumbled together and her stomach rolled. She set down her fork.

  “You three are acting very strangely. What’s up?”

  “Just like I said, Dulcy,” Clarice said.

  “No, really. What do you need? Charles is going to be back tomorrow, so I can’t do anything until then.”

  “Dulcy, we’re just looking out for your best interest.”

  She looked from her stepmother, to Tori, to Barbie, her heart warming. This was the first time they had voiced any worry at all about her. All three of them had depended on her father. They had also loved him almost as much as Dulcy did. One of the only reasons she put up with them. That common bond of love for her father would never be broken, no matter how much they irritated her.

  “Well, you don’t have to worry about me. I don’t date people from work. We are attending together, just like Bill and I did for the last couple of years. There are details to check and I can’t do it all myself. Sometimes it helps to have the boss there. People jump faster for the boss than they do for an assistant.”

  All three of them visibly relaxed and continued their meal as if the few tense moments had never appeared. But, as she drove home, she tried to shake the feeling they might be right. Her attraction to Ethan MacMillan was spiraling out of control. If she weren’t careful, she’d forget all her good intentions. Because, no matter how you cut it, good intentions didn’t keep you warm at night.

  * * * *

  The elevator dinged to a stop at Dulcy’s floor Monday morning. Wearily, she stepped into the brightly lit hallway and headed to her office. She’d lost more sleep Sunday night, the disturbing and uncomfortable chat at brunch the main problem.

  She kept thinking of everything that had occurred between her and Ethan and that her stepmother and stepsisters could read her so well. When had it happened? When had she gone from infatuation to almost being in love with a man who clearly did not believe in commitment?

 

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