Talking Dirty With the Boss(59)

There was a silence on the other end of the phone. Then he said, “I’ll try to think of a work-around.”

“That’s…” She stopped, took a breath. “A work-around isn’t actually the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

She wanted him to understand her, she realized. She wanted him to know without having to explain. But of course he wouldn’t. “The point is that you won’t bend the rules. Not even a little. Not even for me. I thought…I thought I mattered.”

He said nothing for a long time and she wondered if he’d hung up on her. But then, at last, his voice, quiet and cool. “You do matter, but I can’t bend the rules, Marisa. You know that. Not even for you.” Another silence. “We’ll talk about this tonight.”

Which meant the conversation was over.

“Sure,” she replied, trying to be casual. Trying not to care. “Tonight.” Yeah, right.

After he’d hung up, she stuffed her phone back in her purse, her throat tight, her eyes prickling. As if she was upset. Which was dumb because she wasn’t upset. Or disappointed.

It was only a stupid lunch date. That’s all it was. But maybe it was time to have a little distance. Have some space away from each other. It wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Yeah, that’s what she’d do. A night away from Luke’s intense, consuming presence was what she needed.

…

Luke pulled his car into the garage and got out, shutting the door and locking it. He was early, and because he was early, he was antsy and out of sorts. The way he’d been ever since Marisa hadn’t turned up for lunch.

He knew he shouldn’t be angry about that and yet he was. Stupidly angry. She hadn’t arrived at all and it had ruined his entire day. He’d had to cancel meetings because he knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate, and now he’d have to reschedule his entire week.

Goddammit. He’d had to come home early so he could have it out with her. So he could stop her from taking up valuable headspace in his brain.

Fool. It’s not only about your schedule.

Which was pretty much his problem because no, it wasn’t. He’d also been disappointed because he’d been looking forward to seeing her. Somehow lunch with her had become a bright spot in his day. A chance to talk about things he didn’t normally talk about—their friends, books, movies, music. They were both so different and yet they’d discovered a shared love of mysteries and the joys of a good action movie. She sometimes teased him and he found he liked it. Had begun some experimental teasing in return.

While they were in public, all they could do was talk, so the chemistry between them hummed away in the background, allowing him to get to know her as a person. And she was quite a person. Witty, with a sense of humor that he didn’t quite understand but appreciated all the same. Loyal to a fault and extremely generous. Caring.

He was beginning to like her. Very much.

Maybe she was partly a routine. But she was also someone he wanted to spend time with and he was pissed off at her for not being there. And for not understanding when it came to the rules.

Yes, her past must make it difficult for her when it came to hiding their affair at work, but he couldn’t bend those rules. He couldn’t afford to, not if he wanted to remain in control of his OCD. Not even for her.

Striding up the stairs, he paused to put his briefcase down on the desk in his study where he always put it. Then fought a brief battle to resist his usual procedure of taking off his work clothes and hanging them up systematically in his wardrobe. Impatience won as he stalked through the house trying to find her.

Marisa was in her room, the one she didn’t sleep in anymore. There was an open suitcase on the bed and she was in the process of packing. Or rather, stuffing things into it.

He stood in the doorway a moment, trying to figure out what was going on. Because it really seemed as though she was leaving.

“What are you doing?” he bit out.

She tossed something filmy and lacy into the suitcase. “You’re early.”

“Yes.”

“You’re never early.”

“I told you on the phone I wanted to talk to you.”

Her blue eyes flicked over him. “And you’re in your work clothes.”

Already restless with not having completed his post-work routines, he didn’t appreciate the reminder. Shoving away from the doorway, he went over to the bed, looking down at the case. “What are you doing?”

Her chin jerked up. “I thought I’d go back home for the night.”

Cold trickled down his spine. “Why the hell would you want to do that?”