Something to Talk About(29)

Casey's fingers pushed underneath the hem of his T-shirt, her fingers brushing trails through the hairs on his chest, swirling, kneading, searching until she found the soft flat discs of his nipples.

When she teased the pebbled nubs with her thumbs, he groaned and kissed a path along the edge of her blouse until his tongue found the tops of the soft mounds covered by thin silk. Unable to resist the temptation, Rip released his grip on the table to search for the tiny buttons that kept him from the paradise of her breasts. One, two...enough to slip a hand inside and push away the lace of her bra. Her breast rose plump and inviting, the tip puckering against the rough skin of his hand. His fingers massaged the peaks, while his mouth found hers again.

Casey gasped, and her hands circled around, beneath his shirt, to clench against his shoulders.

Rip shuddered, plunging his tongue into her sweet, hot mouth. He couldn't get close enough, deep enough to assuage the fire that raged within. Releasing her breast, he brought both hands to her round rump and lifted her atop the table. He nudged her thighs open with a knee and stepped into the V, leaning close until their bodies met, breast to hip.

Gathering her into his embrace, Rip groaned and tore his mouth away. "God, you're so sweet, so beautiful."

Casey relaxed within his arms, moaning in surrender. Raising her legs to ride along the ridges of his hips, she wrapped them around his waist, pulling him closer still.

A noise penetrated the passion-red haze fogging his brain. Tearing his mouth from Casey's greedy lips, Rip froze as he saw the handle of the conference room door turn. Rip only had time to yank Casey up against his chest, to hide her naked breasts from view.

"I'll just need a few minutes of your t-" Dave's booming voice broke off.

Rip met Dave's shocked gaze and gave a short negative jerk of his head.

Dave nodded and backed out of the room, slamming the door shut. Rip heard Dave on the other side. "Rip and Casey are finishing up their discussion. I'm sure they'll be done in a couple minutes."



       
         
       
        



"Ohmigod!" Thoroughly mortified, Casey shoved Rip away and leapt down from the table. "Tell me, my boss did not just find me rolling around on the conference room table, half naked."

Her hands trembled uncontrollably as she tried to straighten her clothing, but Rip brushed her hands aside and reached into her shirt to pull up the lacy cups of her bra and button her blouse. Her face flushed with embarrassment. When he finished, she swatted his hands away and turned her back, smoothing her hair into place.

"Ahem!" Dave's muffled voice sounded from the hallway.

Casey cast a desperate glance at Rip.

Tight-lipped, he walked to the door and swung it open.

A red-faced Dave swept inside, followed by the rest of the station personnel. They cast curious glances between Rip and Casey.

She quickly took a seat at the table and tried to pretend nothing had happened. Rip sat at the far end, well away from her. That suited her just fine.

"I take it you two worked out your differences," Dave said, his cheeks still stained with color.

Rip nodded curtly at him, his face closed.

"Very good," Dave said. "I brought the team together to share some news with all of you. I received a call moments ago from the corporate representative who's coming to check us out."

Casey's breath caught.

"He was calling from the airport. After he rents a car, he's driving straight here."

Dead silence greeted the news.

"I don't have to tell you how important it is that we make a good first impression on this man," Dave said this looking directly at Rip. "Go about your jobs as usual. I'll bring him around to meet every one of you. I want to impress upon him that we're a cohesive team, and that all of us are responsible for the station's success. Go back to your jobs and act natural."

Everyone rose and began to file out of the room. Dave halted Rip with a hand on his arm. "You might want to wash the lipstick off before he gets here, Rip."

Coloring, Casey slipped past the two of them into the hallway.

"Hey, wait a minute," Rip called after her.

Pretending not to hear him, she continued toward her desk, panic making her feet fly. She desperately needed some space to think about what had just happened between them.

"Casey!"

Reluctantly, she pulled to a halt, waiting for him to reach her side.

Rip's hands grasped her shoulders and turned her to face him. "Babe, we need to talk."

Closing her eyes, she sighed deeply. "Yes, we do. But not now." She gave him a small, apologetic smile. "Real life intrudes."

His gaze never left hers. "Later, then. Promise." 

She nodded, thankful for the reprieve.

"Yeah, well." He suddenly seemed ill at ease. "I'll be at my desk. If you need me, that is."

She forced a breezy note to her voice. "Sure."

Casey waited until he was seated at his own desk behind the partition before she snuck to her desk and surreptitiously removed her purse from her bottom drawer.

There was no way she was going to let Rip stand out like a sore thumb. She had some shopping to do.





16





What a woman wouldn't do to save the butt of the man she loved. The selection at Sunny's Sunwear ran through a fascinating rainbow of colors Casey knew Mother Nature would have made instantaneously extinct. They were perfect.

Sighing as she put back a fuchsia Hawaiian shirt bedecked with sunset-orange blossoms, she chose instead a purple that lay somewhere between eggplant and advanced decay, overlaid with lively yellow flowers.

She placed her selections-the shirt and frayed blue jean shorts-on the counter. As an afterthought, she plunked a pair of purple paisley flip-flops, just her size, next to her other purchases.

The way she figured it, while the station's employees leaned toward casual attire, Rip stood out as an extreme case of arrested development where fashion sense was concerned. This time, however, he wouldn't be alone, and if the corporate hatchet man were looking for the square peg-he'd find two. Dave's pointed comment about making a good first impression would likely only spur the rebellious child in Rip to up the ante.

If something happened to cause him to lose his job Casey knew she couldn't bear to continue the show without him. She doubted she'd even have the heart to go on with her "Home Show". Within the space of one hour, her entire life had changed. Although, if she was honest with herself, she'd been fighting the inevitable for a while.

She loved Rip-and loved working with him. He made her feel deeply and passionately, whether the emotion was anger or desire. Just the slight, ironic lift of a brow or a single electric caress made her body hum with womanly awareness.

When she reached her car, Casey ripped the tags off the clothing, and then wadded them into a bundle. She tossed them into the seat beside her for the trip back to the station.

At the first red light, she decided just wadding them up wasn't good enough. She shoved the bundle beneath her bottom for the remainder of the journey. Casey wanted the outfit to have that authentic, just-rolled-out-of-bed-in-them look.

The pandemonium at the station filled the air. Employees rolled large trashcans down the aisle for a last minute clean up and stowed their favorite talking fishes in the bottom drawers of their desks, giving her the chance to slip unnoticed into the ladies restroom for a quick change.

When she finished, Casey peeked outside the door to ascertain the coast was clear, then rushed toward her cubicle. No sense in encountering more than her intended audience.

As luck would have it, Brent turned the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. He walked a wide circle around her, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Girlfriend, that color does nothing for you."

"That's the whole point," Casey said, peering around Brent.

"I should hope so. I'd hate to think you'd gone color-blind on me. I'd have to find a new shopping partner." Grinning, he walked past her tossing a comment over his shoulder, "Must be love."

"Casey?" Sounding doubtful, Dave's voice called from behind her.

Pasting a smile on her face, she turned.

Her boss blinked a couple times. "Casey, what happened..." Dave stopped in midstream, waving a hand in the direction of the man at his side. "Casey, meet the regional director for ROR International, Bill Shamburger. Bill," Dave quirked an eyebrow, "This is Casey Cramer, the other half of our 'Something to Talk About' team."



       
         
       
        

Casey blushed deeply at Mr. Shamburger's inspection of her outfit.

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Cramer. I've listened to the tapes of your show. I have to admit, you aren't at all what I expected."

She grimaced inwardly but maintained her smile. "That's showbiz for you. It's hard to tell what's behind the voice."

Bill shook his head slowly, a half-smile forming on his lips.

"Who've we got here?" Rip's voice sounded from just over her shoulder. "Gotta tell you...love the shirt."

Casey turned, a defiant smile plastered to her face and nearly dropped her teeth on the floor.

Gone were the scruffy shorts and obnoxious beachwear. Dressed in a crisp, white dress shirt and khaki slacks, Rip looked like an advertisement for Eddie Bauer. Shiny brown loafers and close-cut hair capped either end, completing his polished look.