Chapter 4
Theodore stood before Alice’s larder and sighed. “Bloody hell, what you Americans try to pass off as tea is a crime.”
“I suppose you found the tea bags?” Her voice was strained. “I don’t need any.”
He peeked through her kitchen archway to where she lay on the couch, ice pack held to her forehead. “No one needs these.” She needed a proper tea kettle with some loose-leaf tea. Chamomile to calm her easily rattled nerves.
He strode over to the trash bin, stepped on the pedal, and when the lid lifted, dropped the no-name generic box into the bin. “There. In their proper place.” A coffee shop that served better tea had to be around the corner. They were around every corner in DC.
The ice pack crinkled in the living room. Poor girl collapsed just as the elevator doors opened, and half a dozen people tried to rush in. He’d half carried her out like a limp rag doll. Not a single person asked about it. Bloody cold, if you asked him.
She’d finally emerged from her fainting spell in the lobby as he carried her in his arms. She’d wiggled so hard, trying to get free, they had to have resembled two fish in some weird mating dance.
Convincing her to get into the rideshare car so he could escort her home wasn’t any easier, either.
Still, once inside, she’d plopped down on her couch, not bothering to shed her shoes or coat. She had to be suffering.
He leaned against the archway and stared down at her. Even under present conditions, she was still quite pretty—though stubborn. “You get bad headaches like this a lot?”
“Only when I drink too much, get no sleep, and crumple in front of men who hold my future in their hands.”
That last part wasn’t exactly true. Even if his assessment found she was lacking somehow—and that was growing more doubtful by the second—it wasn’t a guarantee she’d be sacked. He was there to tell the truth, as he’d said. And his brief stint that morning at Edison Tech revealed she was a committed worker. Any personal interest he had in Alice had nothing to do with his work at Edison—or hers. Besides, he wasn’t much of a man if he didn’t make sure she was okay after crumpling before him in the elevator.
He sighed, pushed off the door jamb, and grabbed a bottle of water from a large pack sitting on the counter. “I’d never use my position to harm your future. Now, take the day off. We have your car to retrieve. Call in sick.”
Finally, the ice bag was lifted from her forehead as she looked at him, aghast. “That’s not very management consultant of you. Aren’t you here to get us to work more?”
He winked. “Smarter, not harder, love.”
“I’ve always hated that saying. It hides a multitude of sins, like delegating to everyone but yourself.”
She was most definitely a smart one. “What patronizing, cliched saying do you think would work at Edison?”
“Ah, so the interview has begun.” She let the ice pack fall to the floor, then reached over to rummage in her purse. She pulled out a bottle of Tylenol.
He moved to where she lay prone on the couch, a blanket over her legs. He handed her the bottle of water. “Afraid, given the sad state of your larder, this is all you’re getting.”
She popped open the Tylenol bottle. “Thanks, and you can go, really. You have work to do, and so do I. I won’t be any more trouble to you.”
“What?” He slapped his chest. “And miss a chance to celebrate Inconvenience Yourself Day?” He gestured for her to make room for him, and she bent her knees. He parked himself on the opposite end of the couch.
She lightly tapped him with her foot. “You’re making these days up.” She threw back two pills and took a long swig of water.
Ah, cynical, too. “Google it.”
She snuggled back down against her ice pack. “Later. Okay, if you insist on helping. First, I need just a few minutes, then—” she lowered the ice “—you can help me get my car. Consider it payback for your?—”
“Irresistibility?”
“Not telling me who you were last night. Then, afterward, I’m going back to Edison. I have a ton of work to do.”
He crossed his arms. “What do you think of the company?”
She pointed at him. “Oh, no. We will be doing this in the office. Nowhere else. We’ve already crossed a million lines.”
“Well, technically, you did the crossing?—”
“What?” She sat up and punched his arm.
“Ow.” He rubbed his bicep, not that it hurt him. “Still trying to cop a feel, I see.”
“You’re unconscionable, you know that?”
If she only knew the thoughts in his mind—being this close to her again. But he shouldn’t voice them. “Ah, not today. It’s Be Humble Day. Why do you want to go back to work so badly?”
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She pointed at it. “Because that will happen all day if I don’t get back.” She lifted her phone and peered at the screen.
“One of the main delegators?”
“It’s Roger trying to call. Probably wanting to make sure I wasn’t trashing him over crab cakes at the Palm with you.” She slapped a hand over her mouth. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Don’t like your boss?”
“He’s … fine.” She kicked off the blanket and tried to rise but fell back down.
His hand landed on her back, just to steady her, of course. “Tell him you’re taking the day off,” he said. “Unless fainting is an everyday occurrence for you. Plus, there’s the matter of your car.”
“I don’t take days off.”
“Not even for International Accounting Day? November 10.”
“Not even then.” She swung her gaze to him. “Why are you so obsessed with these days, anyway?”
He shrugged and laid back a little more. “My question is, why aren’t more people? The chance to go ’round today and say things like ‘Happy Supermarket Employee Day’ and ‘Happy Pink Shirt Day’—only that’s in Canada today.”
She eyed him. “I think it’s because you enjoy disarming people.”
“Who me? I’d never. Especially not today. It’s Scout’s Founder’s Day. Chance for all Scouts and Guides to reaffirm their oaths of duty, service, and truth and contemplate how such values are still relevant in today’s world.” He nodded his chin sharply.
“Oh, Theodore.” She let her head fall back. “You’re at least funny.”
Her phone buzzed again. She brought it to her face, then let it fall to the seat cushion.
“Let me guess,” he said. “Roger wanting you back at the office.”
“Maybe.” She swiveled her head to find Theodore still smiling at her. “Ready to take me to my car?”
“I’d love nothing more.” He rose. “Come on, then.”
She texted a quick message and held it up to his face so he could read it.
Not feeling well. Taking a sick day if that’s okay.>>
“Happy?” she asked.
He held out his hand. “Not in the slightest. You shouldn’t have to beg to take care of yourself.”
As he pulled her up to standing, she wobbled. He reached out to help her, and she immediately melted into him. His arms went around her. That time, she didn’t push off or try to do the wiggle fish dance. For several long seconds, they stood there, wrapped in a semi-hug. It was nice.
“If you really have the bubonic plague, and you give it to me, and I die,” he said. “I will haunt you forever. Especially on National Accountant’s Day.”
Her body shook with laughter. He didn’t let go of her, though he wouldn’t be surprised if she shoved him off. As she’d pointed out—repeatedly—they were work colleagues. Technically, he was a consultant. She was an employee of Edison Tech. But he was supposed to evaluate her performance, right? See who was the source of trouble at Edison? Because there most definitively was a problem there. He already knew it wasn’t because of her.
“You really do smell good.” Her words were muffled into his shirt.
So did she. “Flowers. Jasmine. That’s what you smell like to me.”
Her body rumbled against his chest when she murmured and went straight through his shirt to parts of his body that were most definitely inappropriate. He hardened almost instantly.
She lifted her head up to gaze at him. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me today.”
“You’re overcome with lust and longing for me.”
She threw him a skeptical look. “You have it backward. You’re finding it impossible to be separated from my magnetic charm and ability to wrestle numbers into submission.”
His hands moved to cup her face. “Yes, impossible.”
They stood there, staring at one another for a beat.
She broke first. “We can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
She was back to clutching her fingers. “This chemistry thing.”
“Ah, so it wasn’t just the wine you consumed last night.” She felt their pull to one another, too.
“It might have been why we …” She twirled her hands in the air as if he could read them like sign language.
“We haven’t done anything. Yet.”
She grasped her bottom lip between her teeth. “See? That … yet thing is a problem. We don’t have enough information about each other and it feels risky, working together to?—”
“It doesn’t have to be a problem. What if we merely delay?” The Edison Tech job was only a few months long—shorter if he could get to the bottom of what was happening with the company quickly.
“A delay,” she repeated, her mouth deliciously close to his.
“Which.” He cocked his head back and forth. “Actually may be an issue now that I think about it. I mean, the way you kiss …” He glanced once more down at her lips. He didn’t often feel that automatic pull toward someone.
“It was Kiss a Ginger Day,” she whispered.
His chin jutted back. “Broke out the special ones for me last night, did you?”
Her dark eyes were fixed on him, and the need to work over her mouth with his arose so hard he found himself almost advancing on her. “You know, to even things out, perhaps I should be the one to kiss you next,” he said. “That way, it neutralizes the line crossing you believe we did. Cancels it out.”
“Oh, good point. That way, it would be like it never happened.”
Was she kidding? There was no way he could think it never happened. But waiting to act on their desires couldn’t be that hard. They were grown-ups, for God’s sake.
She turned, her eyes glazing as if in thought. “Hmm. I suppose it would be a good data point.” She lifted her gaze to him. “See if we’re any good at it without wine.”
“And if we are?—”
She held up a hand. “We’d need to know a lot more about each other for anything else.” The way her eyes skimmed over his body told him everything. She was interested, which made his ego swell and his logic go on holiday.
“Tell you what,” he said. “When this project is over, if you still want my bod, I’ll meet you at the bobblehead store on National Bobblehead Day.”
“There’s a store?”
“Yes, in London.”
“Pick a day that’s closer than January of next year, and I’ll consider it.”
And didn’t that light up his ego. “Can’t wait, can you?”
She crossed her arms. “Test me.”
Smart woman, keeping the ball in her court. He rather liked the challenge. When was the last time he ever waited that long to exercise his interest. Perhaps it could work. See how long they could last?
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll pick a day. But the deal is you must keep your hands north of my privates until then.” Otherwise, one touch from her, and who knew where they’d end up. He pointed at her. “As hard as it’s going to be. Right, then. Our freedom day will be National BAE Day.”
“When’s that?”
“June 10.”
“That would give us a good amount of time.” She nodded her head sharply. “All right, until then, your hands are not allowed near me. Especially not …” She circled her breasts.
“Your breasts?”
She nibbled on her lip. “They’d be hard to resist. I mean it.”
They were all he could stare at now. Imagining how soft her skin might be, the color of her nipples. “You like your”—he dipped his chin to her chest—“assets to be well appreciated?”
“They’re high-value assets. They deserve special treatment.”
He closed the distance between them. “Everything about you should get special treatment.”
She cocked her head. “Who are you?”
“Theodore Gaston the Fourth. Again, at your service. Now, about that kiss. To neutralize.”
“One.” She stepped forward, tapping her cheek for him to peck it.
“You have got to be kidding.” He scrubbed a finger over his bottom lip. “First, you give me the kiss of a lifetime on what really should be an international holiday. Then, you only allow me a grandma peck? My lips are insulted to be so rejected.”
“Okay. One on the lips. Then we’ll see if it was the wine or something else.”
He immediately yanked her closer to him, her breasts mashing against his chest. “Then it’s countdown to National BAE Day.” He silenced any more words with his mouth as he tangled his tongue with hers. Breathing in her flowery scent through his nose, he felt her hands slide up his chest to around his neck. When her hands curled into his hair, he deepened his kiss.
He spun her, lips still connected, until her back hit her front door. She murmured into his mouth, which hardened him further.
Her leg rose up his calf and circled around him. Bending his knees, he lifted her slightly, so he fit more snugly between her legs. Ffyc, his cock ached. He continued to explore her mouth, grinding against her. He could do that for an hour. The kissing part, that was. The rest of him would blow in under three minutes at the rate they were going.
When they finally broke, both panting, his lips stinging, her eyes brighter, he lowered her to her feet.
“Well neutralized,” she panted.
He sucked in a long breath. “Yeah. Uh, not at all.”
“I know, right?”She licked her bottom lip. “It’s real. We should go before?—”
“Good idea.” Otherwise, he”d have her back on the couch where all limits would be shattered.
He stepped backward, straightening his suit coat. “Though I may have to hobble to my car.”
She smiled up at him. “Good.” She spun to crack open the door and nearly collided with Roger. What the devil? He almost didn’t believe his own eyes. A CEO of a place in as much trouble as Edison shouldn’t be standing in Alice’s hallway. Certainly not in the middle of the day.
“Roger,” she said brightly.
“Thought I heard moaning. You that sick?” He glanced up, finally catching Theodore behind her. The cheapskate held a bouquet of grocery store flowers with the price sticker emblazoned on the plastic wrapping. The man was wearing a Rolex, for Christ’s sake. “Theodore,” he spat. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’d ask the same of you.” He crossed his arms. “Always check in on employees when they’re off?”
The man widened his stance, rolled his shoulders. “Only the ones I’m involved with.”