Right Billionaire, Wrong Wedding (Sexy Billionaires)(22)

“That, too.” He pushed the plant toward her again. “I appreciate you taking the time out of your Saturday. I appreciate you helping with all of this to begin with. You deserve a damn lot more than flowers, but hopefully this is a little start. I saw you eying them earlier.”

It wasn’t her flowers I wanted but her life. But of course those were words she couldn’t say. So instead, she accepted the present.

“Thank you, Darian. It’s lovely.” Delicate purple orchids stretched toward the sun. It was just like him to buy her the world’s hardest plant to keep alive. She tried to hold onto that thought and not focus on the warmth spiraling through her chest.

“Now, if all our floral related business is complete, I should be on my way,” he said. “Do you need a ride home?”

“No, it’s not far. I’m fine.”

“Then I’ll see you tonight.”

She hesitated before saying, “I’m happy to give you an out if you’re busy. I know you have a million things on your plate right now. After all, I scheduled them there.”

There was a heartbeat of silence before he shook his head. “I promised you dinner. Besides, the bakery you suggested will be dropping off cake samples this afternoon. We can eat them for dessert and pick a cake flavor. Two birds, one stone.”

“Bribing me with cake is a sure-fire way to get whatever you want. I’ll be there.”

“Excellent. Eight o’clock.”

“I’ll see you then.”

He hesitated again, opening his mouth as if to say something, before shaking his head and stepping around her.

Allison couldn’t help watching him walk away from her, the delicate flowers cradled in her arms.





Chapter Six


He never made mistakes. Not in business, not in life. Living with no regrets was a far more practical use of one’s energy.

So his decision to cook from scratch, when he had the culinary skills of an inch worm, wasn’t a mistake; it was a daring challenge. And inviting a woman to his home, when he’d barely been able to keep his hands off her this morning, wasn’t something he’d regret; it was a necessary test in self-control.

Darian leaned over his laptop to read the recipe he’d pulled up. Homemade pasta and tomato garlic sauce. How hard could it be? He had a fully stocked kitchen with all the best toys. Granted, he might not know what half of them were, but the point was that he had them.

“Flour and eggs,” he muttered, moving toward the cupboards. Allison would be here in under an hour. At least he could get the prep done.

It wasn’t like this would be a long evening. A meal, some cake, and she’d be out the door. This was nothing more than two colleagues enjoying each other’s company.

Sure, it would have been easier to take her to a restaurant. Or even order in. He’d been half set on that course all week.

But seeing his ever-stalwart assistant up at the crack of dawn to help him today had made him want to go the extra mile. Allison spent practically every waking hour in the office. When was the last time someone had gone out of their way to do something special for her?

The thought made him pause in his mission to retrieve the flour.

He’d never really thought about Ali’s life outside of work. She never mentioned a man, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have one. His hours were even crazier than hers, and he still managed a few evenings of companionship when he needed them. Not that he’d call that a relationship. Or that he could imagine his suited up assistant following the same life philosophy, but the plain truth was he didn’t know.

When she was at work, she was his partner. His confidante, his sounding board, his personal fixer of all things erroneous. But what was she on her own time?

“Not my business,” he said aloud. They’d never been the kind of colleagues who shared personal details by the water cooler.

He had no right to her life beyond the office.

And the fact that it pissed him off was not helpful or conducive to making the world’s best pasta.

Standing back, he stared at all the ingredients he’d laid out on the counter. Look out Martha Stewart. The CEO of King Enterprises was about to get his cook on.

…

Allison stood on the steps, staring at the silver knocker. The damn butterflies fluttering in her stomach were a wholly unwelcome reaction to standing on Darian’s doorstep.

It’s just dinner between colleagues. Have a meal, eat some cake. Easy peasy.

It’s not as if she hadn’t spent time alone with him before. Hell, she remembered a week during her second year when they’d basically hibernated in his office to get a deal done. She’d seen dawn from those damn work windows.