by Sierra Rose
“You should. You should marry me, too.”
“Nope. I’ll go out with you. Once. That’s all I’m promising.”
“Twice.”
“What?”
“Twice. I want two dates.”
“Why two?” she said.
“Because I can’t expect you to change your mind on a first date. You’ll be too intoxicated by having my undivided attention, dizzied from the sheer animal attraction—”
“I’m gonna snort, I swear,” she said, “Animal attraction? Is that the best you got?”
“Two dates.”
“Fine, I’ll go out with you twice. But that’s it. No funny business.”
“Funny business? I thought I was the elderly person in this scenario. If you start saying hanky-panky, I’m the one who is going to snort.”
“You know what I mean. I’ll have dinner with you or go to a movie. I’m not going to...”
“Take part in any sort of funny business?” he said with a raised eyebrow, daring her to laugh.
“Exactly. This is—well, it’s not professional. It’s not personal. I don’t know what this is, but it doesn’t include—”
“Hanky-panky? Funny business?” he said, leaning in and stroking her face. She felt chills run through her. Her hands clenched, her breath caught, “There’ll be no shenanigans? No high-jinks? No naughtiness?”
He brushed his thumb across her bottom lip, “And absolutely no fucking. Right?”
Her breath stuttered as she exhaled. So aware of the warmth and pressure of his fingertip on her lips. She wanted to taste his skin, draw his thumb into her mouth. She nearly trembled with wanting him. Even without the awareness of his touch, the forbidden thrill of that word, the one he spoke low and dark as he looked in her eyes, would have been enough to make her break a sweat. Her pulse juddered. Her legs felt like they wouldn’t hold her up. She grabbed his arm to steady herself. The hard muscle of his bicep was strong beneath her grip.
Luke caught her at the waist and pulled her to him, a sardonic smile making that Greek god face even sexier. He slid his thumb along her jaw, his fingers nestling at the back of her neck beneath the weight of her hair. Her neck felt sensitive and alive, all nerve endings firing like the Fourth of July. She was pulled full-length against him. There was no mistaking the firm proof of his arousal against her stomach. Her mouth went dry at the realization. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him.
They flirted and joked. That was all. They were friends. Work friends. Work friends who occasionally gave gifts like flowers and designer shoes and who helped each other with scheduling. Just work friends who were going out on a couple of dates. Work friends who could ignore something insignificant like a mind-blowing erection pressed between their panting, yearning bodies. Totally normal, professional behavior.
Yeah, right.
She was obviously tired from worrying about her sister and working to keep up with her deadlines and still help Gina out. And tired from all those trips up to the executive floor for no legitimate reason other than to try and run into the CEO whose rock-hard cock was currently pressed against her belly. Because exhaustion caused the same problems she was having—distraction, dry mouth, racing pulse, fluttering or shivering sensations, lightheadedness, the overwhelming desire to feel Luke Conners’ tongue in her mouth...she could practically find the symptom list on WebMD. Tiredness and fatigue would definitely produce those effects. No question at all. And the urge to spread her legs for him, to put his hand up her skirt—that was probably just part of the lightheadedness or confusion. Same for the dampness in her panties. That was nothing to do with Luke. They were, after all, only work friends.
Paige shut her eyes. She needed to snap out of it before she did something even stupider than she had already. She pushed away from him, smoothed her skirt unnecessarily. She fidgeted, tucking her hair behind her ears.
“Sorry. I felt lightheaded,” she said truthfully, “Didn’t mean to grab you like that.”
“Really? Then how did you mean to grab me? If not like that?”
“I didn’t. Intend to grab you or touch you at all. I think we can count grabbing as the sort of off-limits shenanigans we are absolutely not going to take part in on those dates. Where are we going anyway?”
“I’ll surprise you.”
“Do I need, like, a ballgown?” she said, “I know you go to galas and stuff.”
“This would be more in the category of ‘and stuff.’ I don’t consider award ceremonies or charitable fundraisers to be diverting enough for a proper date.”
“What’s a proper date? Because most of the dating I’ve done involved pizza, movies, diners, or a drive-thru window.”
“Who are these people you date? You posed a similar query about the boring people I’m involved with. So, who is taking you for drive-up tacos on a date? I swear I’m going to take your dating to the next level once you’re comfortable with me. The purpose of a date is twofold—shared entertainment and increased knowledge of one another. To determine compatibility as well as to pass the time in a delightful manner.”
“Oh my gosh that sounds boring. Get off my lawn,” she muttered.
“I assure you, boredom will not cross your mind. You will be enthralled—”
“Animal attraction. Yeah, I remember. Now that you’ve mansplained dating to me, can you tell me what I’ll need to wear?”
“Just be casual. Like what you wear to the office,” he said, gesturing to her clothing.
“An ironed blouse and a pencil skirt are not casual. Sweatpants are casual. Leggings and a baggy shirt are casual.”
“Perhaps we have different working definitions of the term ‘casual.’ I suppose attire more formal than baggy shirts but less tailored than your work wardrobe. Is that viable?”
“That’s jeans. Literally, jeans. I have this continuum of clothes in my wardrobe—there’s the black pants and pencil skirts for work, the sweatpants and leggings for relaxing, and then jeans. Jeans and a sparkly top for going out. Maybe a cold shoulder?”
“Are those the ones with great gaping holes on the sleeve?” he said, mystified.
“Yes. It’s supposed to be sexy.”
“Very well,” he said dubiously.
“I have a really nice blue one. It has birds on it.”
“Birds?”
“It’s whimsical. I got it at this really quirky shop with Pax, my sister. She has a jacket with a tiny little pattern on it that looks adorable and then when you get close to it, you realize it’s kittens! She has a kitten jacket that she used to wear to work, and it was like a secret fun thing you get away with...”
“Why doesn’t she wear it now? Too warm?”
“It’s too big for her, plus she doesn’t have a job anymore. Cancer, remember?”
“I remember. I apologize. It didn’t occur to me that her clothes wouldn’t fit any longer.”
“There’s a lot you don’t think about until you’re in the thick of it.”
“It tears you up to see her this way,” he said with heartfelt emotion.
She nodded, unable to speak for a moment. He seemed sympathetic but uncomfortable, as if he didn’t know what to do.
“You could give me a hug,” she said, not caring if it sounded pathetic. “Because I think that’s what I really need right now.”
Relief flashed across his handsome face to have something he could do to help. He put one arm around her shoulders and drew her in. He held her close. She breathed in the expensive cologne, absorbed the heat of him. Her attraction for him flared, but this was more than that, deeper. This was a strange and powerful crossroads where arousal met comfort and closeness.
She hadn’t known she wanted someone to hold her, to listen to her rail against the unfairness of Paxtyn’s sickness, to stop and feel the fear that she could lose the last member of her family that she had left. It wasn’t only the horror of being unable to fix her sister’s suffering—there was a selfish fright beneath, where she could hardly a
dmit to herself that her biggest fear was being alone and that losing Paxtyn would be to lose the last piece of her family.
Paige choked back a sob she hadn’t expected. His hand was in her hair, stroking and soothing her. Luke tightened his arms around her. She wrapped her arms around his waist and let herself snuggle in as the tears poured down her cheeks.
“How is her prognosis?”
“She has scans next week to find out if the chemo is working or not. The last scans were stable, but there was no progress against the tumors. They weren’t growing, but we didn’t manage to shrink them either.”
“Maybe the new scans will show improvement.”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know. I can’t tell if she’s getting better because the treatments make her so sick that I don’t know if it’s the chemo or the disease killing her.”
“The doctor can surely interpret the results and let you know what her symptoms are from.”
“I think you’re really idealizing this doctor. She had mediocre insurance at her job, and now the disability’s run out, and she’s going to have to go on Medicaid. So, her existing crappy doctor may not continue to provide care.”
“I’m sure the doctors will be qualified to treat—"
She reared back from him, pulling out of his embrace, her face damp and flushed from crying.
“I’m so sorry. I’m going through a really difficult time right now, Luke. I don’t want to bring you down this dark road. You should be with a carefree woman.”
“I’m right where I want to be. And I’m here if you need to talk. I’m a great listener.”
“Thank you. That sure means a lot to me. I need to go home and eat a pint of ice cream.”
He shot her a devilish smile. “Hey, I got something better.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Want to go for a ride?” he asked. “That always helps me relive stress.”
Her jaw dropped.
“No, not that, I swear,” he said. “A ride on my bike.”
“Oh, okay. You have a bike?”
“A Harley. And riding is one of the greatest joys of my life.”
“My, you are full of surprises.”
“My parents hate my bike. I got one when I was twenty-one. Just to rebel against them, but then I got hooked.”
“I never pictured the CEO on a Harley.”
“Google me. I’m all over the place. So give me a couple of minutes, and I’ll met you out front.”
“You drove it to work?”
“Today I did.” He winked. “Because I was hoping to take you for a ride.”
She laughed as he walked away. Pushing through the front doors of the building, she waited out front when he pulled up. He looked so damn sexy with those sunglasses.
“Are you willing to step out of your comfort zone?” he asked, handing her a helmet.
Paige smiled. “I’m willing to take a risk.”
This would be her very first motorcycle ride. She fastened the helmet and was ready to go. Luke helped her on, and she swung her leg over the bike.
She put her hands on his shoulders as they started down the street.
Wow! This is really cool!
“You better hang on tighter,” he said.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on tight. As they coasted down the streets, Paige began to relax and let herself go.
And when they turned...man did they turn. The bike leaned over so far that it almost seemed to defy gravity. Luke was a pro, and totally knew what he was doing, he was king of the road, and she felt safe with him, completely trusted him. He glanced over, and she shot him a wide ear-to-ear-grin.
“How do you like it?” he asked.
“It’s intense!”
“Ready to hit the freeway?”
“Um...”
“It’s time to experience life like you’ve never done before.”
She grinned. “Okay, let’s do it!”
He revved up the engine, and they were cruising even faster from forty to fifty to sixty MPH. She could feel the thunderous roar of the engine on her entire body.
Whoa!
It was like she was alive, all of her senses magnified. Adrenaline surged through her veins. She was gliding through time in perfect harmony. It felt like total freedom. There really wasn’t anything like it!
“Yeah, baby!” she shouted.
It was exhilarating as the wind pounded against her face! She could swear she was flying! This had to be the closest thing to flying while still being on the ground.
And the sound of the wind and the roaring bike, it was like the best white noise ever.
When they stopped, she hopped off.
“How did I do?” she said unhooking her helmet and letting her hair fall down all around her.
“You were a total bad ass!”
She grinned as he smiled.
“You were the driver, so I believe that title belongs to you.”
“I’d love to take you for another ride in the future,” he said in a flirty tone.
“Sure, if you can last a little longer. That sure was a quick ride.”
He laughed. “I assure you we can go for a much longer ride, perhaps all night.”
“Perhaps.”
Chapter 10
LUKE DIDN’T MAKE A habit of asking employees out on a date. He hadn’t crossed that line since he was twenty-five. He knew flings and co-workers didn’t fly well. The last time it happened, things went weird and it was awkward in the office workplace. He had never made that mistake again. And here he was planning a date with Paige. He should stay away from her. It was the right thing to do. But every time he looked at her, sparks flew.
Luke had always prided himself on detail work. He believed in going above and beyond expectations to really astound those he presented to at work. He was driven, a perfectionist. So when it came to planning a date or two with Paige, the secretary who’d captured his attention and held on to it, he was determined to impress her.
He did the thing that came naturally to him. He created a spreadsheet, bent on deconstructing her expectations of him and the date he would plan. She would expect conspicuous consumption in the form of rare wines, high-dollar menu items, a private room at an impossible-to-get-into nightspot or restaurant. She’d think he was planning to take her somewhere like a movie premiere or an exclusive club. She was going to wear jeans and her blue top with the birds on it, as if in protest to show how average she was. Paige was anything but average or he wouldn’t be interested in her to begin with.
It started as just the challenge, the fact that she’d barged in on him during a private conversation and offered to marry him. Then she’d withdrawn the offer, and his competitive streak flared. He wanted to make her regret counting him out. Luke Conners wasn’t used to being dismissed out of hand. She’d regret it. She’d be desperate for his attention, attracted to him above all other men.
He’d wanted to strike a blow for his pride, his desirability. But it became more than that too quickly. It became a matter of getting Paige specifically to want to be his stand-in bride. Paige who was level-headed and funny and took no crap from him would be the perfect fiancée.
She wouldn’t be a bridezilla caught up in the wedding and reception and which flowers and cake. She’d be all about sticking to the terms of a deal. She’d make it fun, not something he just had to do to get the board of directors to shut up. Spending twelve months with Paige would be something he looked forward to, not an obligation.
Luke wanted her to come to him and say she’d changed her mind. That she was wrong about him. That he wasn’t a douchebag. That she’d like to get engaged to a man like that, no strings attached. They could have a fling, make each other laugh, never taking it too seriously. He wanted what his grandfather would call validation from her. He wasn’t looking for what his grandparents had shared together. He was just looking for a plausible cover of mature stability to reassure his skittish directors.
Luke debat
ed the ethics of having his attorney arrange for payment of the sister’s medical bills. Some sort of agreement could be drawn up to cover her insurance premiums and out of pocket costs while indemnifying him from further financial responsibility. He just knew that, while she needed the help, Paige wouldn’t accept it. She didn’t want his pity or his handouts.
He wanted to come to her aid, to take that worry off her shoulders, but he realized it wasn’t straightforward—that he had money, she didn’t, and he could help out. She would feel obligated, manipulated. As if he would demand something from her, cooperation or sexual favors even. He didn’t like the thought of her believing he’d blackmail her into playing his wife. So, he didn’t call his lawyer, didn’t settle things for the sister’s medical costs.
He’d always done whatever he liked within reason. It was an unfamiliar and unwelcome feeling to restrain himself. He had to consider someone else’s feelings, their reaction. Luke didn’t like it one bit. He’d only ever lived with reference to himself.
There would be flowers on her desk Monday. He’d have Gina send something to her home address for the sister. Some kind of expensive gift set. Gina would know what was appropriate, he was sure. In the meantime, he had to plan a date or two.
He worked the weekend. Unsurprising, since he always worked the weekends. He turned up solo to a scholarship award ceremony to hand out checks to deserving students. Internet speculation kicked up that very night regarding his relationship status, sexual orientation, and whether his hairline was receding. It was not, he wanted to inform them, so much as a millimeter higher up his forehead, but he’d found that rebutting to such allegations only gave them a level of acknowledgment they didn’t merit.
Magnus called him.
“Did you see what the tabloids posted online? Now it looks as if you can’t get a date. Why haven’t you selected one of the candidates I’ve sent down?”
“They’re boring. Not my type. I can’t endure twelve months of boredom, even if it’s mostly public appearances. She’ll have to live with me. I don’t want to live with someone I hate.”
“You’re not sixteen, mate. These women I picked are perfect. They’re rich, beautiful, captivating. Choose someone, buy a ring. We’ll have it in the corporate newsletter before the end of the quarter.”