Chapter Twelve
C athy ran up the stairs to the second floor, then hurried to Stone’s office. He stepped into the hall and grinned at her.
“You were great!”
“Thanks.” She followed him inside and laughed. “I was so terrified that they would think I was an impostor or stupid or something, but it didn’t happen like that.”
“Of course not. You’re intelligent, articulate, knowledgeable.”
She tossed her purse and briefcase on the chair in front of his desk, then allowed him to lead her to the sofa against the far wall.
She sank down onto the smooth leather and sighed.
“You flatter me, but I like it. Don’t stop.
” She smiled again. She’d been smiling on the whole drive home. Everything had gone perfectly.
“So what did you think?” Stone asked as he settled next to her.
“You’ve got a good team. They work hard for you. They’re also terrified of you, but then you probably like that.”
“You’re right.”
They giggled together like schoolchildren. While Cathy had greatly enjoyed the opportunity and it had been fun getting out to face down her fears, she was pleased to be back where she belonged. Here, in Stone’s presence, her world was right.
He asked about different people. She answered as best she could, trying to put faces to names. As they spoke, she studied him, the way he moved his hands when he talked, the slight tilt of his head as he unconsciously kept his scarred side turned away from her.
She had grown to love him. She’d figured that out last night at her birthday dinner, and today only confirmed that information.
She wanted to do him proud. Not just because she worked for him or cared about him, but because he was the most important part of her life.
She didn’t want to think about a world without him, even though that was inevitable.
He leaned forward and gave her a quick hug. “You did great, and I’m very proud of you.”
He started to release her almost as quickly as he’d reached for her.
As if he’d just realized what he was doing.
Cathy had a split second in which to make a decision.
She knew it would never be more than physical—at least not for Stone.
It would never be emotionally meaningful or anything permanent.
Stone would offer her an affair, and if she could live with that, if she could make it enough, then this was her moment.
In an act she knew would count as one of her bravest, she let him release her, but kept her hands on his shoulders.
His expression shuttered. Her heartbeat increased and the butterflies returned, bringing all their friends and relatives to the party.
She told herself that she would survive the rejection, that emotional pain was rarely fatal and that for once in her life she would be regretting action instead of passive acceptance. Then she pressed her mouth to his.
She waited for the heat and tingling that had engulfed her the last time they’d kissed, but there was only a painful pause during which she wondered if he would respond or push her away.
She realized then that the sparks between them had required both their participation.
Her heart thundered twice more before she figured out he wasn’t going to kiss her back.
Instantly humiliation flooded her. She’d been wrong last night.
He wasn’t interested in her in that way. How could she have made such a mistake?
She pulled back. Hot color flooded her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” she managed to say. “You must think me…” Her voice trailed off.
She didn’t know what he was thinking and she didn’t want to know.
She’d been a fool. She wanted to die. She wanted to run away and never see him again.
Most of all, she wanted to turn back time a little more than five minutes and have this to do over again.
She tried to stand, but her legs were trembling. She pushed off the sofa again, this time using her hands for extra leverage. Suddenly Stone grabbed her upper arm. His firm grip held her in place.
“Why did you do that?” he asked. His voice was low and harsh. Obviously the moment had been so repugnant, he could barely speak.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered again.
He shook her. “Why?”
Compelled by reasons she couldn’t explain, she looked at him. Something dark and dangerous lurked in his blue-gray eyes. His mouth was stern, and a muscle clenched in his cheek.
“I thought you were interested in me. Not romantically,” she added hastily, not wanting to increase her humiliation more than necessary. She swallowed and averted her gaze. “I thought, last night, when we danced…” She shrugged.
“I was aroused,” he said flatly.
She nodded. “I thought that meant you wanted me.” The last two words were barely audible. An hour ago, she’d been on top of the world, confident of her looks and her capabilities. Now all she wanted was to crawl away and hide under a rock like a slug or a roach.
“I can’t—” He hesitated. “My past,” he began. “There are things that I can’t explain.”
“I know. I wasn’t expecting anything more, Stone. I thought it would be nice.”
For the first time since she’d kissed him, his expression softened. “If it was just ‘nice,’ we would be doing something wrong.”
She didn’t respond. After all, she had no frame of reference.
“I’ll understand if you don’t want me to work for you anymore.
I’d rather not quit, but I will if you’d prefer.
However, if you’re willing to give me another chance, I promise I won’t ever say or do anything like this again. I’m so very sorry.”
He released her arm and raised his hand so that he could cup her cheek. “Cathy, I wonder if you even know what you’re saying. You act as if I’m angry or insulted.”
“Aren’t you?”
“No. I’m flattered. I can’t promise you very much, but I do want you. Make no mistake about that. My concerns are all for you. That this isn’t what you really want.”
Some of the humiliation faded. “I kissed you . How could I not want this?”
He gazed at her for a while. “We are talking about becoming lovers.”
Thank goodness she was already blushing so he wouldn’t notice the fresh wave of color that swept over her face. That word. No man had ever said it to her before.
Lovers.
“Yes,” she murmured.
He rose to his feet without saying anything. When she spoke his name, he pressed his fingertips to her mouth, then took her hand. They left the office and walked down the hallway, turning left at the end and stopping in front of a closed door.
There he stopped and faced her. “Are you sure?” he asked. “Because once you come inside and I begin to touch you, I won’t be able to stop.”
Cathy looked from him to the door. So this was his bedroom. She’d known it was at this end of the house, but she’d never explored much. She hadn’t wanted to pry.
There were a thousand ways she could have answered.
She could have explained that she wanted him to be the one to teach her the secrets between a man and a woman.
She could have tried to tell him that she loved him and that being intimate with him was as close as she could come to perfection.
She could have gone on about how many nights she’d lain awake in her bed reliving their kiss and wanting to repeat it.
But the words got tangled in her mind. She didn’t know where to start or how much he would want to hear. So she simply put her hand on the doorknob and turned it. The door swung open, and she stepped inside.
She had a brief impression of a large bed, a wide window with a perfect ocean view and sunlight spilling onto thick carpeting. Then Stone took her into his arms and drew her close. When his hands held her against him, thoughts of the room faded. When he kissed her, she couldn’t think at all.
As soon as his mouth moved on hers, the tingling began as her whole body focused on the feel of his lips pressing, caressing, moving on hers.
He was all damp heat and passion, drawing her closer still, as if he couldn’t possibly get enough of her.
This is what she wanted, she realized. Not just the lesson, not just the intimacy, but the wanting.
She craved his desire for her. No man had ever felt those needs, not for her, and as she shifted against him and felt the instant hardness that surged against her belly, her trembling turned into shivers.
He touched the tip of his tongue to her bottom lip.
Instantly she parted for him. He slipped inside, rediscovering her.
Her hands fluttered helplessly as she tried to figure out where to touch him first. His arms?
His shoulders? Then she wrapped one arm around him and settled her free hand on the back of his head.
His hair was silky and cool, a marked contrast to his heated body.
She felt her breasts flatten against his broad chest. When he stroked her back then moved lower and cupped her rear, she gasped faintly against his kiss.
Involuntarily her hips arched forward, bringing her belly more firmly in contact with his arousal.
There was too much to think about, she realized with mild panic.
She couldn’t keep track of what was happening.
There was the kiss, and the sensations brought about by the kiss.
The feel of their tongues stroking and circling, the sweet taste of him, the way he growled low in his throat and she both felt and heard the sound.
There were the signals from her body—places he was touching, the way his fingers felt, the pressure and sureness of his hands.
Her breasts were achy, her nipples hard.
Her thighs felt hot, and she could feel dampness forming in her most secret place.