His Secretary's Surprise Fiancé(14)

"Right." He shook his head. "We've known that he has episodes of  confusion, but he claimed he saw a doctor who diagnosed it as a thyroid  problem. I looked it up, because I wasn't sure if we could believe him,  but that is a possibility."

"So either he's not taking the right medicines for it-"

"Or he's been BSing us the whole time and he's never seen a doctor.  He's as hardheaded as they come and he doesn't put much faith in the  health-care system."

"He is always telling the trainers not to coddle the players." She'd  heard him bark at the medical staff often enough, imparting a "tough it  out" mentality.

"Exactly." Dempsey frowned. "I asked Jean-Pierre to try to spend some  time down here this season so we can present a united front to get Leon  evaluated and, if necessary, into more aggressive medical treatment."

Reaching toward her desk, she pulled the box of scones closer.

"Jean-Pierre will have to come home for Gervais's wedding." She'd  tracked the wedding talk on social media as part of her duties managing  Dempsey's profile pages online. With the Hurricanes' owner marrying a  foreign princess, the topic had more traction than any other team news.

The fact that there'd been no official announcement only fueled the  rumor mill until speculating on the whens and hows of the nuptials  filled page after page of gossip blogs.

"That's still six weeks away." He relinquished his coffee to grab a  couple of paper plates from her stash near the minifridge. "I think we  need to act soon. I don't want something to happen to Leon because we're  all too damn busy to pay attention to the warning signs. We owe him  better, even though he's not going to be happy about us strong-arming  him."

"Will you invite your dad to be there?" She took a plate and a scone  and passed him the box. "Or any of the rest of the family?"

Leon had another son who lived in Texas, and one out on the West Coast,  and there were cousins as well, but the relationships had been strained  for a long time.

"No. If Theo happens to be in town, fine." His jaw flexed at the  mention of his father, a tic shared by all of Theo's sons. "But I'm not  going to seek him out for a family event that will be stressful enough  as it is." He set aside his breakfast.

Then slipped hers from her hands and set it on the desk.

"Is that a hint?" she asked, her gaze following the bit of raspberry  heaven now out of reach. "Am I indulging my sweet tooth too often?"

"Of course not. I wanted to apologize for last night." He took her hand between his and gave her his undivided attention.

Making her whole body go on full alert.

"You don't owe me any apologies." She hadn't expected a discussion  about what happened and, consequently, was completely unprepared.

"I do. I didn't pick you up last night to bring you to the event. I  didn't deliver your engagement ring personally. And then the episode  with my grandfather distracted me from one of the most shockingly  provocative kisses of my life."

"Oh." Completely. Unprepared. "I-"

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

Her heart hammered so loudly in her ears she wasn't entirely sure she'd  hear it, but she nodded. The warmth of his palm on the back of her hand  sent sparks of pleasure pinging around her insides.

"Have you thought about us that way before? Or is this a whole new  experience, feeling all that chemistry?" His golden-brown gaze captured  hers.                       
       
           



       

Her cheeks heated and she cursed the reaction bitterly even as she  shrugged like an inarticulate teenager. But answering the question felt  like a "damned if she did, damned if she didn't" proposition.

"Right." He let go of her hand. "Maybe I have no business asking you  that. But I'll admit I'm having a tough time concentrating today. I came  in early just to hit the gym and try to work off some steam because I  damn well couldn't sleep."

That got her attention.

"Because of me?" Her voice sounded as though she'd been sucking down helium. She grabbed her coffee and took a healthy swig.

"Things got heated last night, wouldn't you agree?" His voice lowered. Deepened.

The words felt like a stroke along her skin, they were so damn  seductive. But she needed to proceed with extreme caution. She'd heard  Valentina's accusation the night before. Dempsey had left her bed before  the sheets cooled, according to her.

"That's what happens when you play games and pretend things you don't  feel." She kept her cool, needing to make herself heard before she did  something foolish, like respond to all that simmering heat she felt when  he touched her. "You can't tell where the game ends and reality  begins."

For one heart-stopping moment, she imagined what would happen if he  kissed her this time. If he laid her on her desk and told her the games  ended here and now. She could almost taste the moment, it felt so real.

"Why does it have to be a game?" He edged back from her, his gaze  level. "We've always been good together. We respect each other. Why not  enjoy the benefits of this attraction now that it's becoming a  distraction?"

She could hear the influence of his Reynaud roots in his word choices. It took a superhuman effort not to roll her eyes.

"Maybe because I don't think of relationships in terms of benefits.  We're talking about intimacy, not some contractual arrangement. And I  definitely don't want to be pursued for the sake of a distraction."

"I wouldn't be so quick to write off the advantages." He took a step  closer. Crowding her. "Perhaps we should make a list of all the ways you  would directly benefit."

Her heart galloped. Her skin seemed to shrink, creating the sensation  of being too tight to fit. She didn't think she'd make it through a  discussion of the ways having Dempsey in her bed would reward her.

"Maybe some other time." She tossed her empty coffee cup in the trash  and stood. "Now that I know you were serious about that day off, maybe  I'll just head back to the house and do some work on my designs." She  would preserve some dignity, damn it.

Although she did take the box of scones.

The light in his eyes told her that he was on to her. That he understood why she needed to beat a hasty retreat.

"Good. I'm coming home early tonight. I'll take you out for dinner."

Alone?

Her mouth went dry.

"Maybe," she hedged, backing toward the door. "I've got a meeting with a  fabric company downtown later. But I'll text you afterward."

She didn't wait for his response as she walked out into the corridor.  Her skin hummed with awareness from being around him and from the  knowledge that he wanted her. Her kiss-practically a chaste brush of  lips-had shifted the dynamic between them more than she'd imagined  possible.

Dempsey wanted her.

And maybe, for now, that ought to be enough. She couldn't expect him to  fall head over heels for her when he'd hardly seen her as a woman up  until earlier in the week. Was she a fool to run away from the firestorm  she'd created?

Part of her wanted to march back into her office and strip off all his  clothes. Request that detailed list of relationship benefits after all.

Except, of course, she had little experience with men. And baiting a  Reynaud was a dangerous business when she wasn't a man-eating Valentina  type who could deal with the fallout. She was just Adelaide Thibodeaux  and she had a feeling she might never recover from a night in Dempsey's  bed. Knowing her overinflated sense of loyalty, she'd probably be  lovesick for life, stuck in a job as his assistant in the hope he'd one  day crook his finger in her direction so she could repeat the  mind-blowing experience.

No, thank you.

Dempsey might have started this game on his terms, but she planned to finish it. On hers.





Six

Dempsey made no claim to being an intuitive man.

But even he could sense that he'd made some headway with Adelaide  earlier in the day. Sure, he understood her reluctance to jeopardize  their friendship. And he meant what he'd said about respecting her.  Caring about her.                       
       
           



       

Yet the flame that burned between them now wouldn't go away just  because they ignored it. She might not be ready to address it, but he  sure as hell would. So now he found himself driving around downtown New  Orleans in search of the fabric supplier she was using as a pretext for  not meeting him for dinner.

He'd rearranged his day and moved his nonnegotiable meetings earlier in  the afternoon. His practice had gone well. His game plan for Sunday was  solid. Nothing was going to stand in the way of spending time with her  tonight. He would make a case for exploring this attraction in a way he  hadn't been prepared to do last night after that unsettling talk with  Leon.