Chapter Three
L ucius heard the swift, panicked catch of Angie’s breath. God help him. Even that was sexy as hell. Why had he never noticed? How could he have been so blind?
“Have you lost your mind?” she demanded.
“Probably,” he admitted. Definitely.
“You can’t seriously expect me to strip down—”
“Expect? No. Hope?” He invaded the final few inches between them and caught the flutter of her pulse at the base of her throat, heard the swift give-and-take of her breath. “Oh, yeah.”
“I work for you. And this doesn’t just blur the lines. It steps way over them.”
He reached for her, hooked one of the curls that had taunted him all evening and allowed it to twine around his finger. It clung to him, silken soft and utterly female. He’d watched Moretti do just that and it had taken every ounce of his self-possession not to deck the bastard. Lucius shook his head in an attempt to clear it. He didn’t understand what was happening to him, couldn’t make any sense out of the strength of his reaction. Angie had worked for him over the past eighteen months and not once in all that time had he ever felt the urge to connect with her on a personal level. To take her into his arms and discover whether that sexy, impudent mouth tasted as good as it looked.
Okay, once.
Nearly a year after he’d hired her, they’d been slogging through the day. It had been an unusually rough one despite the fact that Seattle sparkled beneath a crystalline sky while Mt. Rainier loomed in the distance, putting its stamp of approval on this brief slice of perfection. The September air contained the cool and crisp hint of autumn’s cusp, filled with the tantalizing whispers of approaching apple and beer festivals.
But for Lucius, the day would have been better drowned beneath a torrent of wintry rain, slashing the windows at his back and driving an early darkness into his office. Lisa had just given birth to Geoff’s son and the ecstatic father had raved endlessly about his newborn son and exhausted, valiant wife. Lucius sat quietly, striving to appear both excited for his best friend and interested in details he’d have just as soon known nothing about. Geoff must have talked for hours before Lucius finally sent him on his way, insisting he take the next couple of weeks off to be with his new family. And all the while guilt rode him, lashing him. He hadn’t given his friend the time off out of generosity. Hell, no. He’d done it for himself, selfish bastard that he was.
He hadn’t wanted to hear another word about how happy Geoff and Lisa were. Or the minute by minute, second by second details of her pregnancy and childbirth. Lisa had been wrong about one thing. It hadn’t taken fifty years of wedded bliss to make him choke on their apparent happiness, but only a short nine months.
The instant Geoff left, delirious at his good fortune, Angie slipped into the room. One look at his face sent her straight to the wet bar where she poured him a stiff drink. Whether she’d heard about his involvement with Lisa through the office grapevine, or used her own deductive skills to reason it out during that first year of her employment, it was clear she knew. Knew, and set out to focus his attention on anything and everything other than Geoff and Lisa.
They worked long into the night, ordering takeout before digging into his latest rehab project. When he finally surfaced, he discovered Angie sacked out on the couch of his sitting area on the far side of his office. As always, she wore one of her godawful suits, this one in a muddy brown. At some point she’d stripped away her jacket, the simple taupe silk shell beneath escaping her waistband and draping across the sweetly subtle curves of her breasts. The skirt had rucked upward, showcasing a gorgeous set of mile-high legs. And the hair that she always pulled away from her face in a tidy knot had loosened, spilling down her shoulders in streaks of bronze and chestnut and a pale sandy brown.
For the first time, he saw Angie as a woman.
He must have made some sound. Or perhaps the undiluted concentration of his gaze alerted her on some primal level. Her lashes fluttered and she opened her eyes, the brilliant aquamarine muted with sleep, darker and more intense than normal.
Until now, Angie had always been one of the most professional women he’d ever known. He could create an endless list of her virtues—all perfect for a top-notch PA— and probably never hit all of her many attributes. But for the first time, he saw the woman behind the employee, a woman who possessed a softness and vulnerability he’d never noticed before. Her breathing sharpened, the semitransparent flow of silk sliding and caressing her breasts with each rise and fall. For endless seconds they simply stared at each other, while a sharp, visceral awareness tugged at his gut.
Everything within him, everything that made him both a man and a predator, urged him to act. To take. To conquer. To possess. And all the while the thin veneer of civilized behavior, of propriety, kept him frozen in his chair, wanting without responding. Instinct warred with rationality. Teetered. If he went to her, pulled her into his arms, she wouldn’t resist. Somehow he knew it with the sort of absolute certainty he’d perfected over his years as a businessman, his ability to assess any given situation with split-second certainty honed to a dagger’s edge.
“Lucius?” His name, in a hesitant, hauntingly feminine whisper, slipped across the darkened room. Eve’s call to Adam.
He clenched his teeth. “Go home. You’re exhausted.”
She continued to stare at him with eyes of want and he could practically see the apple cupped in her hands. “What about the prospectus?”
“It’ll be here in the morning.” He stood, snatched up her suit jacket and tossed it to her. “I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen the impeccable Ms. Colter wrinkled and out of sorts.”
As he’d hoped, the comment snapped her to attention. Catching the jacket midair, she erupted from the couch with a gasp of dismay. If hunger for a fast, juicy bite of that apple weren’t still dogging him, he’d have found the way she yanked her skirt into position, tucked in her blouse and jammed her arms into her jacket downright amusing. Trembling fingers attempted to shove buttons through holes. The fact that they were the wrong buttons in the wrong holes only added to her appealing vulnerability. Thrusting her hair out of her face, that long tumble of autumn browns, she made a beeline for the door, turning at the last minute.
She cloaked herself in painful dignity, but it was far too late. He’d seen what she buried beneath. Seen. Been tempted. Hungered. The serpent had invaded Eden and left its mark. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning at the usual time.”
“No, you won’t.”
He’d rattled her and he couldn’t help taking pleasure in it. “I’m sorry?” she asked uncertainly.
“I’m meeting with Dolchester, remember? I won’t be in until after lunch.”
“Of course. I’ll…I’ll just leave now.”
He nodded, allowing the apple to roll away, untasted. “Good night, Angie.”
“Good night, Lucius,” she murmured.
The initial spark of desire he felt then didn’t come close to the roar of need cascading through him now. He didn’t just want a taste of the apple, he wanted to consume every last, juicy bite in great ravenous gulps. His body continued to hold hers trapped against the kitchen counter and she gave a slight shimmying twist that threatened to drive him insane.
“Don’t,” he warned. “By all that’s holy, don’t.”
She stilled, the cadence of her breath soft and desperate. He should let her go. He should leave. He should walk away now before they did something they’d both regret. But he couldn’t walk away any more than he could stop his heart from beating.
“Lucius…”
He teetered on the brink, the foundation of his control crumbling around him while his name on her lips hovered between them like a siren’s song. And then he inhaled it, inhaled her, his mouth coming down on hers while their breath became one, hers one of sweetness, his one of need. She tasted of wine and exotic flavors, her lips like velvet. Her body pressed against his in the most delicious of abrasions, lithe and slender, yet with a delicate, utterly feminine ripeness. He couldn’t get enough. She invaded his senses, an intoxicating palette of scent and taste, touch and sound, and all he could think about was drinking her in, sip by sip, until he’d consumed every last drop.
“Don’t hold back,” he murmured against her mouth. “Let go. Show me who you’ve been hiding beneath those buttoned-up suits.”
She laughed, the sound almost painful. “More buttons. Endless buttons.”
He caught her lower lip in his teeth and tugged ever so gently, pleased with the shudder and moan it elicited. “Fortunately for you, I know all about the art of unbuttoning.”
“I…” She hesitated, on the verge of telling him something, something important. But then she shook her head. “I can’t do this, Lucius.”
“You don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of everything.”
“You don’t understand. I don’t do this. I can’t do this,” she repeated, this time with an almost desperate edge.
He stilled. “Is there someone else?”
The question escaped with a masculine aggression he hadn’t intended, though he knew the cause. Damn Lisa to hell and back for her duplicity, for destroying the one relationship he valued above all others—his friendship with Geoff. She’d left a scar when she’d cheated on him, cheated on him and Geoff. A festering wound, one he didn’t think would ever heal.
If Angie had a man in her life—news to him—this would end here and now. Lucius refused to put another man through what he’d experienced at Lisa’s hands. Nor would he put himself through that sort of pain ever again. His next serious relationship would be perfect—one programmed to order. Pretorius Programmed to order.
His question continued to hover between them, one he could tell she was reluctant to answer. “Tell me, Angie. Is there someone else?”
The question still echoed with aggressive demand. Fortunately, she’d never been intimidated by him, her unwavering directness and honesty an attribute he considered more important than any other in a PA, or a woman for that matter. She managed a laugh, though he could hear the heartbreak edging it and wondered at the cause.
“No, it’s not that.”
Lucius throttled back, the tension easing away. “Then there’s no problem.”
Before she could speak the protest forming on the tip of her delectable tongue, he kissed her again. She teetered between uncertainty and surrender, and he could practically feel her objections fading like mist beneath a midday sun. Her arms slid upward along his chest, a delicious caress, while her lean fingers sank deep into his hair, tugging him closer. With the faintest of sighs, her head tipped back in surrender, her lips opening to him. He swept inward without hesitation, diving into a sweetness beyond comparison.
He took his time, savoring everything about her. Her taste. Her scent. The stroke of her hands and the feel of her body brushing against his. His control loosened, fought free of his grasp while sheer, masculine instinct took over. He found the zipper that traced the length of her spine and slid it downward to where it stopped, just above the womanly curve of her buttocks. The dress that had tortured him throughout their evening together parted, gaped and then drifted downward to expose a creamy expanse of skin the texture of velvet.
He groaned. How was it possible that Angie could have hidden such an astonishing wealth of sensual pleasure without his ever suspecting its true extent? He’d been a fool. He eased back just enough to allow the dress to drift away. It caught at her hips, threatening his sanity before gravity stepped in and forced it to puddle at her feet.
She was beyond beautiful, a delicate confection of femininity. Her shoulders were broad and fine-boned, her breasts pert and round, tipped with nipples that made him think of raspberries on cream. Her waist curved gently inward above a boyish flare of hips. But no one could ever mistake her for anything other than a woman, not with such a beautifully rounded backside and legs that seemed to go on forever. The thought of what they’d feel like wrapped around his waist threatened to consume him. How perfectly her bottom would fit in his hands when they joined. When they moved as one. When she came apart for him.
When she was his in the most basic, primal way possible.
She stood before him, a pale blue triangular scrap of silk shyly preserving the final bastion of her modesty, while three- inch heels coyly taunted him. He wanted her. Wanted her more desperately than he’d wanted any other woman—even Lisa.
He hooked his fingers in the elastic at her hips, but before he could strip it away, she took a stumbling step backward, staring at him in open dismay. “Damn it, damn it, damn it.” She snatched her dress from the floor and clutched it to her breasts. “You’re my boss. We’ve had too much to drink. And taking this any further is a huge mistake.”
He couldn’t deny anything she said. It also didn’t change how he felt…or what he wanted. “It would be one of the most enjoyable mistakes we’ve ever made.”
“It would change everything and I—” Her voice broke ever so slightly, a poignant, telling little break. “I don’t want our relationship to change. I think you should leave and we should forget this ever happened.”
He couldn’t help but laugh, though the sound contained little humor. “I think it’s a little late for that.” His gaze wandered over her. “I’m afraid there isn’t any way I can forget what you’ve been hiding under those atrocious suits.”
“Try,” she snapped. She edged away from him, deeper into the living room. “I’d appreciate it if you’d see yourself out.”
He took a step in her direction. Then another. She held her ground for a brief instant, her chin raised to a combative angle. He could see the desire in her eyes and knew she wanted him every bit as badly as he wanted her. Then he saw the heartbreak and the pride, saw the hint of fear and desperation. Oh, not of him. And not of what he might do to her. No, he could guess what caused those particular emotions. He sensed her desperation to fight the sexual urge burning through her and her fear that she’d lose her job if she didn’t. Or maybe she’d feel obligated to quit, something he didn’t dare risk.
All he knew for certain was it would cost her, seriously cost her, if he took this any further. To his utter shock, a protective urge swept through him, demanding he do whatever it took to shield her from hurt—even if he were the one doing the hurting. Especially if he were doing the hurting. And somehow he knew with a bone-deep certainty it would hurt her if he took this any further. Hell, he should be grateful that one of them had retained an ounce of common sense. For some reason, he didn’t feel the least grateful.
“Good night, Angie. Thank you for having dinner with me.”
“With you and Gabe Moretti.”
That stopped him cold. “You throw gasoline on a smoldering fire, you’re asking for it to burst into flames,” he warned softly. “Is that what you want?”
She didn’t answer. Smart woman. Instead, she turned her back on him and disappeared in the direction of one of the bedrooms. It was a more effective response than anything she could have said. Watching that glorious, nearly naked bottom twitch its way across the room on three-inch heels was a punishment worthy of the devil, himself. Lucius managed a grim smile.
And considering most people considered him Lucifer’s kin, he should know.
How could she be so stupid?
Angie huddled within the comforting folds of her voluminous cotton robe and stared unblinkingly at the digital clock while it slowly ticked toward 3:00 a.m. What had she been thinking? Oh, now there was an easy question to answer. She hadn’t been thinking. She’d been so caught up in her hormonal response to sexy as sin Lucius Devlin, to knowing in her heart of hearts that loving him was utterly hopeless, it eclipsed everything but that single, driving imperative. To have him in her bed and finally know his possession. The temptation of having just a single night with him had proved so overwhelming that she hadn’t given a single thought to her precious career—the one thing in her life she valued above all else. Hadn’t her mother always warned her to put her career first, that men couldn’t be trusted to stick? No doubt the fact that her father had walked out on them when Angie had been a baby was responsible for that particular philosophy. But then hadn’t Ryan proved her mother correct?
What would have happened with Lucius if she hadn’t stepped back? If she’d allowed him to sweep her along on that mind-blowing tide of lust? He’d have discovered the truth about her, that’s what. He’d have discovered she was hopeless in bed. Awkward. Self-conscious. Unable to satisfy a man.
She flinched from the thought. Damn Ryan and the cruel, careless way he’d broken her heart. The way he’d made her doubt herself as a woman. The way she’d cut off pieces of her life because he’d made her believe herself incapable. And damn her for letting him, for giving up on the possibility of having a successful sexual relationship, turning to work as both comfort and affirmation that in this area, if no other, she excelled.
It was ridiculous. She needed to get over it. She needed to find a man—a man other than her boss—who could teach her what she needed to know.
Angie frowned in concentration, the thought taking root, flourishing. It wasn’t a bad idea, she slowly decided. If Lucius could entertain the idea of a cold, calculated marriage in order to provide a good home for Mikey, a contract between like-thinking adults, why couldn’t she do the same? Oh, not marriage. But a cold, calculated sexual relationship, one designed to teach her the art of lovemaking, the craft of fully exploring her womanhood. It would be no different from when she’d taken classes to teach her the skills necessary to pursue a successful career, a career she now enjoyed to the fullest.
What would it feel like to be as experienced in bed and in male/female interactions as she was at her job? To fully explore an aspect of her life she’d denied herself in the wake of Ryan’s and Britt’s betrayal? It would be… Tears filled her eyes. It would be heaven. All she needed was the right man. A man who would be patient and understanding. A man she could trust.
For a brief instant an image of Lucius flashed through her mind before she thrust it ruthlessly away. Don’t even go there! Heading down that path offered one thing, and one thing only. Certain and total heartbreak. What she needed was a man who found her attractive and that she wouldn’t mind having in her bed. But, who?
Oh, wait. Wait, wait, wait. There had been another man who’d shown interest in her tonight.
Gabe Moretti.
A man like Gabe, an experienced man of the world would be the perfect choice. She vaguely recalled there’d been gossip about him at the office. What had they said? Right, right. He was a man who had the reputation for caring about women and who held honor dear. And best of all, he was currently unattached. Add all that together and it made him the perfect candidate to help with her problem.
Angie snuggled into her pillow, her eyes drifting closed. Still, she could dream. She could imagine what it would be like to have Lucius free her from the pain and hurt Ryan and Britt had inflicted. A small smile drifted across her mouth. Too bad she didn’t fit his criteria for the perfect wife—whatever that criteria might be. Then she’d have it all. A career she adored. A man more than capable of helping her fully explore her womanhood. And even a baby, one she found utterly adorable. Imagine having the best of all worlds.
It was perfection. Sheer perfection.
How could he be so stupid?
Lucius stripped down and stepped into the shower, inhaling sharply at the cascade of icy water sheeting over him. At least it helped cool his lust. Somewhat. Though not nearly enough, considering he could still see her, nearly nude and gloriously, perfectly female. He braced his palm against the stone wall and allowed the water to pound down on him, praying it drummed some common sense into his addled brain.
This was Angie Colter, PA extraordinaire, he was thinking about. She wasn’t the sort of woman to take to bed on a whim. She was his employee, for God’s sake. His responsibility.
Just as Mikey was his responsibility.
“Aw, hell,” he muttered. “How could I have forgotten?”
The Pretorius Program. His plan to marry the “perfect” wife and mother. Someone who wouldn’t cheat on him. Someone who wouldn’t desert him or screw him over. Someone he could trust. Not that he believed he could ever have any of that. In his experience people cheated. Deliberately or otherwise, they screwed each other over. And trust was nothing more than a myth. Trust evaporated like a wispy dream at the first hard bump in the road. And usually that bump had something to do with money.
Isn’t that what happened between his father, Angelo “Angel” Devlin, and Angel’s best friend and business partner? The death of that trust—not to mention the theft of Angel Enterprises by that partner—had killed his father.
And hadn’t it happened again with Lisa? She’d wanted money and had done anything and everything necessary to get it, even marrying someone she didn’t love.
Wasn’t it about to happen with Geoff’s parents, a couple who’d stood like second parents to him. Hadn’t they just threatened to file a lawsuit to gain custody of Mikey, claiming Lucius an “unfit” guardian?
He turned off the shower and snagged a towel, relieved that he’d regained a semblance of control and common sense. He was grateful to Angie, grateful that she’d showed such amazing restraint and put an end to a situation that would have caused endless complications on the work front. He’d been a fool to allow lust to interfere with logic. He’d finally found the perfect PA and with one foolish, impulsive act had almost ruined a perfect working environment. First thing Monday morning he’d apologize. Then he’d carefully, gently, politely return them to their former arm’s length relationship. No doubt Angie would be relieved.
And then he’d devote more time and attention to finding the perfect wife to match his perfect PA.
He tossed back the covers on his bed and allowed himself to relax against a lake of silk. Punching his pillow into a comfortable mound, he folded his arms behind his head. Still, he could imagine how it would have been. He could imagine having Angie in his bed, as brilliant and amusing and meticulous in the way she made love as she was in the workplace. She’d prove just as trustworthy, too, easing the pain and hurt others had inflicted over the years. A small smile drifted across his mouth. Damn if she didn’t fit his criteria for the perfect wife, as well as a PA. It was more than perfect. A multibillion dollar business. A brilliant woman more than a match for him in all the most important aspects of life. And even a mother for Mikey, a baby she found utterly adorable. Imagine having the best of all worlds.
It was perfection. Sheer perfection.