Dare Me to Want You, page 16
Lucy frowned. Strange. Her phone pinged almost immediately and she frowned harder because she recognized the address. It overlooked Central Park, though it used to be owned by someone else. It must have cost a small fortune—or large one—to purchase. She set the information aside and stepped to the curb to flag down a cab.
The ride was blessedly short, all things considered. Lucy kept looking at her phone, but now that she was going to meet Roman, she didn’t want to call Gideon until afterward. Just in case he wanted to talk immediately. Her stomach did a slow flip-flop. Please be willing to meet with me.
To her surprise, the restaurant was actually the top floor of the building. After getting off the elevator, Lucy stood in the entranceway for a solid thirty seconds, just taking in the opulence of the place. It screamed wealth with its polished white-marble floors and subtle gold accents. Nothing déclassé, but there all the same.
A well-dressed man strode over, a practiced smile on his handsome face. “You must be Lucy. This way, please.”
She followed, taking in empty table after empty table. “I thought this was a soft opening?” Surely there should be some people there. Good Lord, did Roman invite me here to shove me out a window? She pushed the thought away. Hysterical was what it was.
“It is.” He chuckled. “Just a very soft opening.”
That wasn’t an answer at all, but she allowed him to lead her into what appeared to be a greenhouse. The air warmed enough that she unzipped her jacket. Flowers of every color and shape lined the walls. There were even trees in the corners, which made her smile despite everything.
She was so busy looking at the foliage that she didn’t realize the man had left—or that she wasn’t alone—until she turned around and found Gideon standing in the doorway. Lucy froze. “But—”
“I’m sorry for the cheap trick. I wasn’t sure if you’d agree to see me if I called.” His dark eyes drank her in and she actually felt his longing even across the space between them.
Lucy shook her head. “Gideon, you have to stop. If you want to see me, call me and say so yourself instead of trying to manipulate things into a perfect setup.” Now that she had him here, though, she was just glad she didn’t have to have this conversation over the phone. She lifted her chin. “And if you love me, you stay. You don’t choose the self-sacrificing route because you think you know what’s best for me. You sit down and have a damn conversation where we talk it out.”
His smile wasn’t all that happy. “I fucked up.”
“Yes, you did.” She wasn’t about to let him off easily, no matter how much she wanted to cross the distance between them and feel his strong arms wrap around her.
“I’m sorry. There’s no good reason to explain why I freaked out, but guilt makes people do crazy things—like walk away from the woman they love because they think it’s what’s best for her.”
“I decide what’s best for me.”
His dark eyes took on a tinge of sorrow. “I know. And we both know that I don’t deserve to kiss the ground you walk on. Not because I love some idealized version of you, but because you’re you. You’re a good person, Lucy. The best kind of person. You are funny and kind and sexy as fuck, and I might not deserve you...” He took a step forward and then another. “No, I know I don’t deserve you.”
“Stop saying that,” she whispered.
“Maybe we both fucked up. Fear makes for all kinds of mistakes, and what we have between us is wildfire.” Gideon stopped in front of her and went down on one knee. “But, Lucy, I’d gladly spend the rest of my life burning for you.” He withdrew a ring box from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. “I love you. I’ve loved you for six goddamn years, and I convinced myself that the right thing to do was to stand back and let you be with someone you deserved. I fought every single damn day not to pull some underhanded shit and steal you from that douche.”
She reached out with shaking hands and touched the ring box. “Gideon—”
“I know you wanted a safe and pat marriage to some guy you don’t give two fucks about. I can’t offer you that, Lucy. But I can offer you a husband who will love you beyond all reason, even if he occasionally screws up. I can offer you a safe harbor, a full life and more sex than you know what to do with. I am offering you that.”
She couldn’t catch her breath. In all the scenarios she’d played out over the last few days, she’d never once imagined Gideon, down on one knee, offering her everything she’d spent two years being too terrified to admit she wanted. “Gideon.”
“Yes?” He didn’t look scared while he waited for her answer. He looked totally and completely at peace for the first time in as long as she could remember. As if he was exactly where he wanted to be—where he was meant to be.
Lucy stepped forward and tangled her fingers in his hair. “Steal me.”
His dark eyes went wide. “That’s a yes.”
It wasn’t a question but she answered anyway. “That’s a hell yes.”
He gave a whoop and shot to his feet, sweeping her off hers in the process. “I love the shit out of you, Lucy. I’ll spend the rest of our life making up for six years of missed opportunity.”
She kissed him with everything she had. “Maybe it was good that it took us six years to get here and more than a few missteps along the way. There’s a right time and place. This is our time and our place.” Lucy kissed him again. “I love you, Gideon. So, so much.”
He stepped back enough to slip the ring out of the box and onto her finger. It was...perfect. The simple silver ban framed a princess-cut diamond that was big enough to have her shooting a look at him. “Wow.”
“Funny, that’s what I say every time I see you.” He pulled her back into his arms. “Wow. This woman is mine. And I’m hers.”
“Yes and yes and yes.” She smiled up at him. “Always.”
Make Me Need
Katee Robert
In this red-hot scorcher from New York Times bestselling author Katee Robert, Trish Livingston meets her unlikely match in her brother’s best friend, the gorgeous Cameron O’Clery. They’re complete opposites—but that only makes the temptation hotter!
Trish Livingston desperately needs cash, so when her brother offers her a job while he’s on paternity leave, she snaps it up. She’s even willing to put up with his best friend and business partner, the notoriously grumpy Cameron O’Clery—especially when she finds out he’s very easy on the eyes.
Cameron hates people: especially peppy, happy people like Trish. He avoids her at all costs, until a raunchy late-night encounter in an elevator shows him that there’s a fine line between hate and lust. Cameron knows he’s broken the rules—and is resolved to keep his distance from her.
But Trish doesn’t make it easy. A work trip places them in adjoining hotel bedrooms, giving her the chance to put on a sizzling show just for him! When Cameron’s left wanting more, Trish is delighted to give him exactly that... Can either of them walk away from something that feels this good?
Sexy. Passionate. Bold. Discover Harlequin DARE, a new line of fun, edgy and sexually explicit romances for the fearless female.
To Hilary
CHAPTER ONE
TRISH LIVINGSTON DIDN’T do sad. Life was too short to focus on the negative crap. No matter how bad things got, it could always be worse.
Granted, she wasn’t exactly sure how much worse her life could get. She was drowning in student loans, living with her wonderfully understanding but ultimately smothering parents and the only job she could get was one with her older brother’s cybersecurity company.
Positive, Trish. You could be homeless. Your parents could be awful people—or gone completely. You could have as few job prospects as you did two weeks ago.
She smoothed a shaking hand down her skirt and squared her shoulders. Maybe this wouldn’t be so unnerving if Aaron was actually here to introduce her to his partner and walk her through her responsibilities. But his fiancée had had their baby a week earlier than expected, so he was currently playing the doting father. He’d offered to slip away for a few hours, of course. That was what her brother did—took care of everyone around him. She’d declined because that was what she did—smoothed waves and gave people what they really wanted.
The elevator shuddered to a stop and the door slid open, removing any chance she had to change her mind. Trish smoothed her hair back as best she could, pasted a bright smile on her face and stepped out.
From what Aaron said, this entire floor was Tandem Security offices, which seemed a little strange since it was the two of them, but who was she to complain? Trish eyed the front office. Not the most welcoming first impression. A layer of dust covered the desk and she’d been under the impression that plastic plants couldn’t actually die, but the teetering tree in the corner threatened to make a liar of her. Even the chairs were eyesores, a perfectly functional beige...that belonged in a hospital waiting room somewhere.
She walked over and sank into one and grimaced. Thought so. Whoever had designed these chairs didn’t want the occupants to spend any amount of time in them. She shook her head and muttered under her breath, “Well, this is what Aaron hired you for. Apparently he actually does need someone—desperately.”
“What do you want?”
She jumped to her feet and teetered in her cotton candy–pink heels. “Sorry, I was just trying out the chairs and...” She trailed off as she caught sight of the guy who’d snarled at her. He wore a pair of faded blue jeans and a white T-shirt that stretched tight across his impressive chest and set off his dark brown skin to perfection. A chiseled jaw and shaved head completed the picture and made her mouth water.
At least right up until she registered who this must be.
Trish turned her smile up to an eleven and stepped forward. “Cameron O’Clery? I’m Trish Livingston. Aaron was understandably occupied, so he said I should just head over here and make myself at home.” She held out a hand until it became clear he had no intention of shaking it. Undeterred, she dropped it and smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle from her skirt. “I know he mentioned this place needed a bit of a face-lift, but I never realized my brother had quite such a gift for understatement.”
He stared and finally shook his head. “Info is in the top drawer of the desk. Do what you want.” Cameron turned and stalked down the hallway and out of sight.
Trish frowned. She rounded the desk and pulled open the creaky drawer. The only things in it were a credit card with Tandem Security’s name on it and a paper with account names and passwords written out in neat block lettering. A little more snooping found a brand-new laptop tucked in the next drawer down. Trish shot a look down the hall, but since Cameron hadn’t made an appearance, she shrugged and booted it up. Typing in the websites listed brought up accounting software, an email address and the company software itself. She scrolled through the list of clients—past and present—and sighed. This would be a lot easier if I had a little guidance.
Chin up, Trish. You know how to make the best of any situation. This is no different.
She stood and propped her hands on her hips. Since she had to start somewhere, the waiting room was the way to go. Aaron had hired her to redesign the office space, liaise with incoming clients and provide general support to him and Cameron. She turned in a slow circle again, mentally tallying everything she needed to accomplish her first goal. No reason to pay top dollar for everything. It didn’t matter if the company could afford it or not. Even bargain shopping, it would be a chunk of change to do it all at once, so she’d roll up her sleeves and save costs wherever she could.
She palmed the credit card and headed into the back offices. There were no plaques or signs to indicate where anything was, but only one door had light coming from beneath it, so she headed in.
“I’m busy.” Cameron didn’t even bother to look up from his monitor.
Good grief. If this is his attitude, I can see why Aaron needed someone to handle clients. She didn’t let her smile slip, though. “I can see that, so I won’t take much of your time.” Trish held up the credit card. “Just let me know the budget for the front office and I’ll be out of your hair. Or, well, you have a shaved head so...” She smiled harder. “Sorry, I’m wasting time with babbling. Budget, please.”
His dark brows drew together and he finally deigned to look directly at her. “What?”
“A budget. For the front office.” The urge to keep talking bubbled up, but she pressed her lips together to prevent the words from escaping. Call it a hunch, but Cameron O’Clery didn’t seem the type of man to appreciate small talk or meandering conversational threads.
His frown didn’t clear. “Spend whatever you want.”
Lord, grant me patience. She crossed her arms over her chest. “With respect, I do better when I have clear guidelines. A budget would be helpful.”
Cameron cursed, as if this two-minute conversation had taxed what little patience he had. “Spend what you need to. If I think you’re out of line, I’ll tell you.”
Of that, she had no doubt.
Recognizing this was a losing battle, Trish edged back out of the office. “I’ll just get started, then.”
“Do that.” He turned back to his monitor, and it was as if he’d forgotten she was in the room.
She’d never been so summarily dismissed in her life, and Trish couldn’t deny that it rankled. She opened her mouth, but common sense got the best of her. As satisfying as it would be to pester one half of her new bosses, it was her first day. Better to set a precedent of doing her job well before she started pressing Sir Crankypants to hold down an actual conversation.
She headed back to her desk and considered. It was Friday, which gave her today and all weekend to get the decorating stuff out of the way. Then she could start bright and early Monday with figuring out the client aspect. Aaron wanted her to deal with new clients’ preliminary meetings to get a baseline for what services they required. From there, either Aaron or Cameron would take the client. Though I guess Cameron will be taking them all until Aaron is back in the office.
One problem at a time.
She dropped into her desk chair and pulled a dusty notebook out from the second drawer. A list would keep her on track. Trish gave the room one last look and sighed. Her shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch before she caught herself and forcibly straightened them. None of that, Trish. Think positive.
Working as a glorified secretary for her brother’s company might not be part of her bright plans for the future, but that didn’t change anything. She gave 100 percent. It was what she did—who she was. This job would be no different.
She’d be the best damn glorified secretary Aaron and Cameron had ever had.
Cameron finished the last bit of code for his current client’s site and sat back. There were still tests to run and scenarios to play out to ensure he’d filled every nook and cranny with the proper protections and hadn’t left any back doors accidentally open, but they could wait until tomorrow. He rubbed a hand over his head and then stretched. He was past overdue for a massage—he usually kept regular appointments to prevent the kinks in his back from getting too bad—but Aaron’s pending fatherhood had kept his partner out of the office more and more as his woman’s pregnancy got further along, and more work had landed on Cameron as a result.
He didn’t mind. His friend was happy, and that was enough for Cameron. He liked the work, liked keeping occupied with it. All he had was an empty apartment waiting for him, so it wasn’t as if he missed much by spending more time in the office.
As he pushed to his feet and stretched more fully, he frowned. What’s that smell? Another deep inhale had him checking his watch. It was well after eight in the evening, so who the hell was painting?
Cameron stalked out of his office, already calculating where the vents could be sending the scent from. It was probably the floor below theirs. The woman who ran the consulting business down there liked revamping her office with startling regularity. Saying shit wouldn’t accomplish anything, and it was after-hours. He was just tired and hungry and overreacting.
He reached the front office and stopped cold. White cloth covered the floor and blue painter’s tape marked off both the ceiling and trim. Half the white walls were now a soothing green, but that wasn’t what set him back on his heels.
No, that was reserved for the barefoot woman teetering on the top of a stepladder—above the sign set into the step warning not to stand above that point—her curly blond hair tied back in a haphazard knot that looked like a bird’s nest. He started forward, belatedly realizing she still wore the outfit she’d had on earlier, a simple black skirt that hugged her hips and ass and a loose pink blouse in the same startling shade as the heels she’d worn.
This is Aaron’s little sister. Get your eyes off her ass.
It was a great ass, though. As she went onto her tiptoes, the muscles in her lower half flexed and he had to bite back a groan. At least until she wobbled and overcompensated. Cameron jumped forward and caught her. He was a bastard and a half because he let himself enjoy the feeling of her in his arms for several seconds before he set her back on her feet.
Trish shoved the cloud of curly blond hair that had escaped its knot back and gave him a blindingly bright smile. “Thanks! I thought I could do this without scaffolding, but those nine-foot ceilings are no joke.” Her smile wobbled. “Crap, I’m sorry. I got paint on you.”
Cameron looked down to the streak of green marking his shoulder and then back at her. “You just took a nosedive off a ladder and you’re worried about my shirt?”
“Well...yeah.” She shrugged and leaned over to set the paint roller on the tray perched precariously on the ladder. “I fell. You caught me. Thanks again, by the way. But there’s no reason to dwell on it.”
He stared into those guileless blue eyes. She truly looked more worried about his shirt than any injuries she would have suffered if his timing had been a little off. “What would you have done if I wasn’t here and you broke your leg?”
