“I haven’t bothered to do anything? Really.” With a shrug, she folded her arms. “I’m not going to answer questions right now, Dex. I’m too flustered.”
“Yeah, I can see that. You did manage to turn a mannequin into a stripper.”
“I couldn’t help it. I stumbled,” Virginia groaned. “I knew I shouldn’t have let Stacey talk me into these shoes.”
“The shoes aren’t at fault,” Dex muttered.
She looked up at him. “What are you implying?”
“You’re drunk.”
“Says who? Maybe you’re the drunk one—you haven’t pushed any buttons yet.”
He glared at her. “I haven’t? Says who?”
She let out a huge sigh. “What floor are we going to? And why the hell did you need to drag me out of a trunk show to show me something at Saks?”
“I don’t have anything to show you, Virginia. I just needed to pull you out of there.” She opened her mouth, but he held up a hand. “I’m not going to answer any of your questions right now, either.” Dex glanced at the buttons and pushed the one that would take them to street level. “But I am going to take you home.”
“No. My Secret Service is going to take me home.” Her eyes got big. “Oh my God! Where’s my agent?”
Dex’s head jerked up. That was a good question. And he got an answer the minute the elevator dinged open. Two agents were standing in a defensive line, their faces grim. One of them was Larry. “Miss Fulton,” he said, and took her arm.
“Muscles, I didn’t mean to scoot out of that trunk show without telling you,” she said. “How did you get down here so fast?”
“The stairs. I only had to shove a few people out of the way.” He nodded at her. “Where to?”
“Her place,” Dex supplied, fully expecting Virginia to protest, but she astonished him by turning around with a smile. “Yep. And Dex is coming with.”
Larry nodded again and propelled her past the crowd that had begun to gather. She really couldn’t go anywhere without attracting onlookers, could she? For a moment, Dex felt a flash of compassion for Virginia—but only a flash, because he was still mad at her.
As they climbed into the waiting SUV outside, Virginia yanked on her seatbelt. “I’m pissed at you,” she declared. “That’s why I didn’t call you back.”
“Oh yeah? Why are you pissed?” He turned to look at her, but she stared straight ahead.
“Save it,” she muttered. “I’d rather discuss it in private.”
He managed to hold his tongue as the SUV weaved through traffic. He assumed it would be a short ride because she probably lived somewhere nearby, but to his surprise, they went south and east, turned onto First Avenue and stopped in front of a building at Tudor City. It was nice enough—but awfully modest for someone as high profile as Virginia.
She must have noticed his surprise, because she snorted. “Don’t be a snob, Dex. There’s nothing wrong with where I live. It’s secure, and since we’re right across from the UN, there are tons of diplomatic attachés who live here.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t say a word.”
“Yeah, well, let’s keep it that way,” she shot back. “Because I’m going to give you an earful when we get inside.”
Dex planned to do the same thing, but he didn’t say any more as he followed her into the Gothic lobby and onto an elevator. Then he waited silently with her while her agents quickly checked her apartment. They didn’t say anything either, only gave her brief nods and disappeared into the next-door apartment.
With a sigh, she sailed into her living room and threw herself onto a sofa. “Now they’re pissed. Wonderful.”
“Does that happen often?” Dex asked. He perched on the arm next to her.
“What are you trying to do, make me feel worse?” She crossed her long legs, reached down to remove one of the lethal looking pumps, and then flung it to the floor. The other one followed with a thump. Her lips parted and she gazed up at him. “Let’s get some things cleared up.”
“Okay.” He looked away from her lush lips and gripped the arm of the sofa to keep from hauling her onto his lap. He shouldn’t want to kiss her, but damned if he hadn’t since the moment he’d caught sight of her today.
“I’m assuming your sister told you where I was,” Virginia said, “and from the catty look on her face, I think it’s safe to say that she couldn’t wait to run to you with the news.”
“You’re right. She’s not a pleasant person, and her entire purpose in life seems to be one-upping me. But when she told me you were drunk, I couldn’t just shrug that off. I had to—”
She stood up. “What? Come babysit me? I’m an adult, Dex.”
“You could have fooled me. Why didn’t you return my calls?”
“Because even after I said yes to the job offer, you acted as though I wasn’t going to keep my promise. You used the attraction between us to seal the deal. That’s bullshit. I’m not flighty and undependable, and I don’t need to be kissed into doing my job,” she burst out.
He stared at her but didn’t know what to say because a small part of him wondered if she wasn’t right. He had said the words “seal the deal,” hadn’t he? He hoped his confusion didn’t show. “I wasn’t thinking that at the time,” he finally said, but from the look on her face, she didn’t believe him.
“So why did you goad me into kissing you?” she asked suddenly.
The question took him completely off guard. “Because I wanted you to. I wanted . . . you. I have fun with you, Virginia, and I feel good when I’m around you. I thought you felt the same way, but since you seem to have had such a negative reaction, I guess not.”
“I’m not sure that you want anything from me but my help with Lilah’s,” she said in a flat tone that belied the vulnerability in her large brown eyes. “And when Lilah’s is fixed, you can go right uptown to Cameron’s corporate offices and settle into the CEO chair.”
“That’s not true.” And it wasn’t. She had no clue about the hoops he still had to jump through before his ass was planted in that coveted seat. She didn’t know about London and the fact that he’d probably be overseas for two years, minimum. He looked at her. “I want . . .” He paused. What did he want? All he knew was that his desire for her didn’t have anything to do with the insane career path he’d chosen. Telling her about it would only complicate things.
“I think about kissing you all the time, and it has nothing to do with Lilah’s. Nothing to do with who you are.” He slid down next to her. “I mean, who you are on the outside.” She raised an eyebrow, and Dex grimaced. “I didn’t mean how you look.” He gestured at her slinky dress. “Which is amazing. I meant . . .” Damn, he was getting tongue-tied, as usual, but he wanted to set things straight. “I meant . . . it doesn’t have anything to do with you being famous and . . . oh hell.”
She gazed at him, and he could tell that she wanted to believe him. “Okay. Let me explain what happened at Saks. I’m not drunk. I had two glasses of champagne back there, and I was playing a part. Fashion is a strange world, Dex, and being lively—even fake—at a party is expected. It’s all part of the game, and I was right in the middle of that game when you took me out. I was speaking with buyers and designers and working some of the connections I need for Lilah’s. Stacey has a lot of connections, and with her help, I’m making my own.”
“You hired Stacey?”
“No. It’s nothing formal. She’s a generous friend who’s excited about my work, and she knows that when I can return the favor, I will. She probably seemed silly to you, but when it comes to fashion, she’s dead serious.” Virginia snapped her fingers and continued in a sarcastic tone. “Oh, speaking of dead serious, I have something to show you.” Without waiting for a response, she left the room and came back quickly, holding a laptop, which she set on the small coffee table. Then she opened it and clicked a file on the desktop. “Here. See what you think. I’m going to change out of this dress.” She walked away again.
; Dex scooted forward and stared at the screen. It was a proposal—a very detailed one—for the transformation of Lilah’s. He scrolled slowly through the basics, which included sensual window displays and new streamlined layouts throughout the first floor. Virginia had addressed everything from customer traffic patterns to mood music. It was both logical and exciting, and, as he continued to scroll, he stopped to click open photos—each of them containing edgy models wearing provocative ensembles. But there was an unexpected undertone of the classic, the exclusive, to all of it—it was sexy elegance, he realized. It was high fashion.
Virginia appeared in a doorway. “What do you think?”
He looked up at her guarded expression and then let his gaze wander over her soft sweater that clung in just the right places. She wore a pair of jeans that drove him crazy, and her feet were bare. Simple—yet he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. “I think you’re beautiful,” he said.
She started to smile, but shook her head. “Thanks. But I meant my proposal.”
“It’s truly impressive. And I have complete faith in your abilities, so it goes without saying that it’s approved.” He stood up. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
“Wait, what? What about you being pissed at me?”
He nodded, buying time to figure out what to say. What could he say? That he wanted her even though their relationship ought to be all business? “Yeah. I’ve been pissed for days about you not contacting me, and at the same time, I . . . haven’t been able to stop thinking about kissing you. It’s been confusing, to say the least.”
She looked at him for a moment. “Confusing. I can agree with that.”
“You’ve thought about kissing me, too?”
“Yes. It’s not a good idea, you know.”
“I know.” But all he wanted to do right now was take a step forward and gather her into his arms. He suppressed a sigh. “But I’m attracted to you.”
“And pissed at me,” she added, a smile playing around her lips.
“Yes. You should have at least texted me at some point during the last ninety-six hours.”
“You counted the hours?”
Yeah, he had. It was really more like ninety-seven and a half. But he didn’t tell her that—instead, he took that step forward and cupped her elbows. “Four days, ninety-six hours, same thing.”
She leaned toward him and her breasts brushed against his chest. “Okay. That is a long time and I probably should have called.” When he raised an eyebrow, her lips curved into a smile. “Okay, yes. I should have. And I’m attracted to you, too, whether or not it’s a good idea.”
“As long as we have that straight,” he muttered, his arms wrapping around her.
“Okay,” she said again, except this time it was in a throaty whisper that sent electricity singing through his body. A second later, he captured her mouth with his own, reveling in the silky feel of her hands wrapping around the back of his neck. She tasted like champagne and excitement—and something deeper, something comforting. He couldn’t get enough.
He kissed her slowly, savoring the softness of her lips and finally, when he couldn’t hold back anymore, he swirled his tongue around hers and pulled her closer. His hands wrapped around her narrow waist and dragged their way up her ribcage to the sides of her full breasts; when she gasped into his mouth, he began to massage their softness. She tore her mouth from his, stood on tiptoe, and bit gently on his earlobe. “What are you doing to me, Dex?”
He shuddered at the feel of her warm breath fanning his neck. “You drive me crazy,” he murmured, sliding his hands over the front of her full breasts. Through the thin sweater and bra, he skimmed his fingers across her stiff nipples, and when she groaned, he stroked his thumbs over them. He had to have them in his mouth. He’d explode if he didn’t. Dipping his head, he lifted the hem of her sweater and ran a hand over her belly.
“Um, Dex?” she asked.
“Hmm?” He stroked his hand up and over the silky lace of her bra, splaying his fingers wide to cup one of her breasts. Ah, heaven.
“We’re going to end up in my bedroom in about two minutes,” she said breathlessly.
“Good.”
“I’m sure it would be—oh, God,” she whispered as he dipped his head under her sweater and tasted her cleavage. It was so silky, and when her hands came around his head and pushed him closer, he smiled and gently rubbed his stubbly jaw against the astonishingly sheer lace covering a nipple.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this.” She sighed, and he felt her hands pushing down, pushing him away. “We . . . we can’t do this.”
Dex closed his eyes in frustration. “Why?” His voice sounded muffled, and through the fog of lust, he realized that he probably looked a tad ridiculous, hunched over with his head jammed up her sweater. Still, he couldn’t resist running his tongue down her abdomen as he made his exit. When he stood up and looked at her glazed eyes and open mouth, it was all he could do not to take her right back into his arms.
“I . . . it’s too fast.” She folded her arms over her breasts. “I have to be careful.” The minute she said those words, she winced. “I mean, who doesn’t? It’s not you.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s me.”
Dex gazed at her, and he began to nod. Of course she couldn’t sleep with him right now, and she was wise not to. They barely knew each other, and she couldn’t trust him any more than she could any other guy not to blab all over the place that he’d slept with the president’s daughter. He wouldn’t be that callous—ever—but she had a right to think that he might be. “Come here,” he said, holding out his arms.
When worry flashed in her eyes, he smiled gently and motioned her forward. “I only want to hold you for a minute. And tell you that I understand what you’re trying to say. I’m not insulted, sweetheart.”
She nodded, her chin trembling, and then she flung herself into his arms. He rocked her back and forth, kissing her hair. And then because he couldn’t help himself, he kissed her pale cheek and then her lips. Softly. “I think I better go,” he murmured.
“Yeah.” She pulled away and gazed at him with tear-filled eyes. “I’ll see you . . .”
His eyes widened. Why was she crying? “Tomorrow. You’ll come in to Lilah’s tomorrow. Give me a time.”
She let out a weak laugh. “Um . . . I have to do some things in the morning.”
“Like what? I’m pinning you down, just so you know.” He smiled at her in an attempt to cheer her up. Should he ask her what’s wrong? He opened his mouth, but she turned to the side and coughed.
“Oh, I can tell you’re trying to pin me down,” she said. “Well—I need to go see Sam’s attorney at ten. And then I have another appointment at one, so let’s say three. I’ll be at Lilah’s at three. Will that do?” She looked at him and then quickly away.
Dex stared at her for a moment. Something was definitely off—something she didn’t want to tell him. “I know it’s none of my business, but is everything with the Owlton Company okay?”
She raised her hands and let them drop back to her sides. “It depends on how you look at it.”
“What do you mean?”
“From your perspective, let’s say, things are probably pretty good, because you’re busy, and you won’t have to make time to introduce me around to potential clients.”
He frowned. “Virginia, I’ve told you more than once that I don’t mind that a bit. We have a deal.”
“Had,” she said, and then she turned away from him, her back completely straight. “I’m dissolving Owlton, Dex. I can’t do it. I don’t want to do it.” Her voice broke and her shoulders began to shake. He opened his mouth to say something, but instinct told him not to. So he watched her, and her obvious pain brought a lump to his throat. A moment later, she shook her hands in the air and spoke through tears. “Could you just go, please? I don’t let anyone see me cry.”
“I understand,” he said softly. “Will you—”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I may be a
flake, but I’m not going to flake out on you.”
“I don’t think you’re a flake,” he said. “I wasn’t talking about work. I was going to ask, will you be okay?” He ran his hand across her stiff back. “I don’t want to leave until I know that.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment. “I’ll be fine.”
Circling around her, Dex lifted her face in his palms and ducked his head to look into her eyes. She closed them. “I’ll be fine,” she repeated. “I appreciate your concern, Dex, but you know that feeling when the last thing you want is someone fussing over you because the more they fuss, the harder you’ll cry?”
“Not really.” The only person who’d ever done much fussing over him was the nanny he’d had when he was five. “But I understand what you’re saying.” He placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay, sweetheart?”
“Okay.”
He crossed to the front door and left, closing it softly behind him. As he walked down the hallway, his heart hurt for her. And it bothered him that she didn’t quite believe that his intentions toward her were honest. He had no control over her feelings, but he could do something to prove his confidence in her—something that would show his commitment. He stopped next to the elevator and leaned against the wall. She was beautiful, smart, irrepressible—she had a unique spirit. Right as the doors slid open, it came to him and he smiled. He would ask Virginia to be the face of Lilah’s. He would put her image on all of the advertising. That ought to prove his confidence in her and . . . then what? All he knew was that he had to find out.
Chapter Six
AS VIRGINIA LEFT the attorney’s office the following morning, her eyes felt like puffy dried-up creek beds, and probably looked about the same. To her credit, she hadn’t cried when she’d signed the papers to dissolve Owlton, and she hadn’t cried when she’d told the attorney to put Sam’s apartment on the market, but then, she hadn’t had any tears left.
She’d instructed the attorney to donate all of her profits to a charity, but even that hadn’t made her feel much better because she still felt an oppressive sense of guilt and the anxiety of not having told her parents. She didn’t know which thing was worse, but she did know which one she could solve.
Various States of Undress: Virginia Page 8