Marriage of Inconvenience(Knitting in the City Book #7)(142)

“Kat?”

“Hmm?” I blinked at him. Or rather, I blinked his eyes back into focus.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“No. Sorry.” Stirring, I forced myself to stop thinking about his lips. “What where you saying?”

He watched me, his gaze intense, probing, as though he were trying to peer inside my brain and discover my most recent thoughts. My neck heated. I said nothing, determined not to rush him again. If he wanted me, he’d have to make the first move.

The barest of smiles tugged his mouth to the side and his eyelids drooped over eyes now darker, hot with intent.

Oh. Well. Okay.

Don’t let yourself get too excited.

“Did you know . . .” he paused, his gaze dropping to the front of my dress, and then slowly climbing up to my lips. “I once asked Janie if she thought you’d leave your job at Foster? Come and work for me, as my Betty, at Cypher Systems?”

“You did?” By “my Betty” I knew he was referring to Quinn’s longtime executive assistant. Betty was the glue that held that place together, the center of the clock around which everything revolved. She made it all happen, and she did so wearing pearls and a smile.

“Yeah.” He leaned back further in my office chair, his hands behind his head.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Janie said they needed you too much. That the place would fall apart if you left.”

“Well,” I shrugged, “I’m gone now. I turned in my notice last Friday.”

“Yeah. But I think that’s not the only reason she advised me against it.”

“Oh? Why else?”

He shrugged lazily, his hands still behind his head, regarding me evenly. “I think she was worried about me.”

A little spike of excitement shivered down my spine. “How so?”

Dan paused for a moment, thinking. “Janie didn’t know Quinn was her boss until after they got together.”

“Yes. I remember when she found out.” The hot, spiky sensation lingered, likely because he was still looking at me like I was dessert; I gave into the urge to rub the gathering heat at the back of my neck. “And he wasn’t her boss, he was her boss’s boss.” I gave Dan a pointed look, remembering how upset Janie had been.

“Yeah. And I think it’s always kinda pissed her off, that he was her boss—excuse me, her boss’s boss— and he was making the moves on her.”

“But he made moves on her before he was her boss.”

“And he continued making moves on her even after she was hired. I think that’s why she didn’t want you working for me.” Dan turned in the swivel seat, coming forward and straightening, his hands dropping to his lap as his knee brushed mine.

The look in his eyes sent warmth to my abdomen, lower, the beginnings of a pulsing ache.

“She was worried you’d make a move on me? If you were my boss?” I lifted an eyebrow at him, fighting the instinct to regulate my breathing.

So many thoughts.

But I wouldn’t regulate my breathing.

I needed to surrender. I needed to pant if I wanted to pant. I needed to moan if I wanted to moan. I needed to give myself over to sensation and not worry about looking or sounding silly, or disappointing him. I needed to enjoy myself, because I wanted to very, very badly.

And I needed to love him, own it and feel it and not worry. I needed to trust him, that he loved me, that he wouldn’t bring me to this edge and let me fall by myself.

He loved me and I loved him and it was time to surrender.

Surrender.

Dan leaned forward, sliding his large hand around my leg, his fingers just below the hem of my skirt at the back of my knee, sending pinpricks of sensation up my leg. “She was worried I wouldn’t make a move.”

We traded stares for a moment and my heart increased in tempo. I allowed it to quicken, to race, to speed.

When he spoke next, his voice was deeper, huskier. “Late nights with the boss, working closely together, it would’ve been torture.”

“For you? Or for me?” Was that my voice? I sounded breathless.

He flashed a quick grin—there and gone in a second—and he dropped his eyes to my stomach, tugging at my leg. I moved where he guided, until I was standing in front of him, my back to the desk, him sitting before me.

“Maybe we would’ve found ourselves here, like this.” His fingers were on my thighs under my skirt, inching it higher and his eyes followed the upward progress as the lace bands of my stockings were revealed.

My breathing had become excited, erratic, and I didn’t care because this was what I wanted and I trusted him.

His fingertips trailed a light touch on the back of my legs as he fingered the lace. Dan encouraged me with a subtle movement to lean my bottom on the desk.