More Than Perfect(15)

 “No.”

 But she wished she were. If she weren’t afraid it would mean losing her job, she’d accept the offer she could read in his gaze. Part of her urged her to do just that. After all, what did it matter? He’d made it clear he intended to marry. If he did, she’d quit. Why not take a chance before that happened? Why not show him that she was so much more than a piece of office furniture. That she was a woman with a woman’s emotions. All it would take was a kiss. A single kiss.

 As soon as the thought came to her, she instantly dismissed it. Just where would that kiss lead? Straight to bed. To bed, where she’d be able to prove to him beyond a shadow of a doubt that while she excelled as his PA, she was a total disaster as the sort of woman who usually graced his bed. The stunning Lisa had managed to keep two brilliant and powerful men hooked. Angie closed her eyes. She hadn’t even been able to hook one.

 “Lucius—”

 He lifted a hand, cut her off. “Tonight was a disaster. You realize that, don’t you?”

 Her brows pulled together in consternation. “You said it wasn’t my fault.”

 “I lied. It was your fault.”

 “Wait a minute. Wait just one damn minute.” She set her cup and saucer on the counter, the porcelain singing in protest. “You told me to flirt with him.”

 “I told you to distract him. You didn’t distract him.” It only took a single step in her direction to have him invading her personal space. “You distracted me. And he bloody well knew it. Knew it and took advantage of that fact.”

 “And you blame me for that?” she demanded indignantly.

 “I blame it on that damn dress.” Burning flames of desire flared to life in his gaze, sweeping like wildfire across her skin, scorching in its intensity. All she could do was stare in return, bathing in the irresistible flames. “Maybe it would help if you took it off…”





Three

Lucius 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.