Tempted by Her Billionaire Boss(14)

He wound his way through the throngs of people on the dance floor. It  was hot and sweaty and hard to negotiate. He had just about given up on  finding Francesca in the ballroom and was about to search out Juliana  when he saw her on the corner of the dance floor with Kaminski.

Kaminski's hand was wrapped around her incredible body, perilously close  to her bottom. Francesca had a smile on her face, but it was a hunted,  close-to-the-edge smile that made a switch flick in his head. What had  he been thinking?

Five long strides took him to the couple. "May I cut in?"

Kaminski gave him an annoyed look. Harrison stared back at him. Luckily  Aristov's second in command wasn't a combative personality like his boss  and handed Francesca over. "I'll come find you afterward," he told her  with a lingering look.

No, you won't, Harrison thought. Francesca nodded to the other man with  another of those smiles he knew to be plastic and stepped closer to  Harrison. She stood on tiptoe. "I don't need this drink," she whispered  in his ear.

The husky whisper went up his spine, then straight back down. He took  the glass from her fingers, deposited it on a table and took her in his  arms. She flowed easily into him without that awkwardness some women  possessed, wrapping one hand around his shoulder and lacing the fingers  of the other through his. "Thank God," she murmured. "I think he was  about to try and kiss me again."         

     



 

"He tried to kiss you?"

Her hand fluttered from his shoulder in a delicate wave. "My fault. On  our tour of Leonid's art collection, I had to lay it on a bit thick to  keep him occupied."

He frowned. "What do you mean a bit thick?"

"Oh, I just flirted with him...nothing too much, you know. It was just  at one point, he said he had to go meet Leonid and I was afraid you  wouldn't be finished talking so I poured it on a bit and well-maybe he  sort of got the wrong idea."

Hell. "I'm sorry," he breathed. "That was my fault. I never should have  sent you after him. He's clearly-" he used Leonid's word "-besotted with  you."

Her cheeks went pink. "I think that's a bit of a strong word."

"I don't." He tended to agree with Leonid that Frankie had been the  dangerous one in that equation. She looked stunning. He'd had to pick  his jaw up off the ground when he'd seen her in that dress, not because  he hadn't seen a voluptuous woman in a low cut dress before, but because  on Francesca it looked like innocence and temptation personified. An  irresistible combination that had had his hands itching to touch her all  night.

When he had earlier on the red carpet, his palm to her beautiful back, it had been an addiction he could easily fall prey to.

He studied the high color in her cheeks, her lush, beautiful features,  the spirited curve of her mouth... It wasn't just her great legs  Kaminski had gone wild for. It was the whole vibrant package that made  you want to be the one to capture it.

A highly inappropriate wish on his part. Which was not happening.

Her floral, feminine scent drifted into his nostrils. What was it?  Orange blossoms? It infiltrated him. Attacked his common sense. It was  one thing keeping his brain detached when she was ten feet away from him  sitting in her office chair. Another thing entirely when she was in his  arms, her ample curves tracing the length of him. She was relaxed now,  lacking the tension she'd displayed earlier, her body melding perfectly  with his as they moved.

She looked up at him, gray eyes tangling with his in a long,  tension-filled moment where he forgot his mask entirely. The jolt of  awareness in her smoky eyes marked it a huge mistake.

"Did you at least get to talk to Leonid?" Her hasty words desperately broke the spell.

He nodded. "Because of you, Leonid and I figured each other out."

"What was his issue?"

"Sentimentality. Siberius was his father's company. He's finding it hard to part with it."

"At least he's putting it in good hands..."

Guilt scored his insides. "An acquisition is an acquisition," he said roughly. "There's a lot I can't control."

"He will sign, though?"

"Yes. We need to show him a plan on how we'll assimilate Siberius into  the company when he's in New York next week. But that shouldn't be a  problem."

"Good, then." Her chin lifted with satisfaction. "I'm glad I could help."

"You did more than help. You were a superstar tonight. I owe you my sincere thanks."

She blinked. "Well, that's...good. You're welcome." She chewed on the  side of her mouth in that anxious habit she had when something was  bothering her. "I wanted to say on the plane...I mean-I'm normally a  very efficient, together person, Harrison, but since I've started  working with you, I haven't been myself. I've been...off. I know that  and I'm not sure why."

He knew why and he wasn't going there. "Because you're still intimidated by me."

"Maybe." She nodded. "There's a bit of that..."

And a whole lot of something else. He reached his limit. "I think we  should go," he announced abruptly. "Before Kaminski comes around for  round two."

She nodded, her eyes on his as she stepped out of his arms. She looked as conflicted as he felt.

They said good-night to Leonid and Juliana. Leonid promised to have  Tatiana call with his schedule for the following week. Viktor Kaminski  looked dismayed they were leaving. Francesca stood on tiptoe and pressed  a kiss to both of the Russian's cheeks. He said something to her.  Francesca frowned, thought about it for a minute, then replied. Kaminski  let her go.

"That was awful," she muttered, climbing into the back of the  Rolls-Royce ahead of him. "He wants to take me on a tour of the Met next  week when they're in town."

He peeled his gaze off her amazing rear end and got in beside her. "Tell him you're busy. You will be."         

     



 

She laid her head back against the leather seat. "I will. I just feel bad about leading him on."

"He's a big boy, he'll get over it." Just like he was going to get over his intense awareness of her at the moment.

She was silent, her gray eyes contemplative. He gave the driver  instructions, slid the partition closed and the car moved softly off  into the night. Frankie turned and stared out at the tall, dark shadows  of London as they rolled by, interspersed with bright lights. He  directed his gaze the other way. She was as direct and honest as most  women were deceptive and ambitious. He'd never realized what a highly  attractive quality that was in a woman, when so many in his social  circle made game-playing a trait acquired at birth.

Silence fell in the car. He kept his gaze trained on the skyline of  London rather than on Francesca's beautiful profile cast in the light of  the street lamps. The whiskey he'd consumed, the satisfaction coursing  through his veins at the night's success, the attraction he'd been  fighting for a week were all too potent a combination to address.

The longer he was silent, the more the tension seemed to rise in the  car. Francesca stared out her window, fidgeted with her clutch strap,  anything but address it. Finally he felt the heat of her gaze on him.  "Harrison?"

He turned to look at her.

"Have I done something wrong?"

He frowned. "No. Why?"

Her gaze fell away from his. "I-I don't know. I feel like I've done everything right tonight and something still feels wrong."

The shadows carved the enticing hollow between her breasts in the  low-cut dress. The pout in her amazing mouth had lust snagging at his  throat. "There's no issue," he assured her roughly. "I told you, you  were perfect tonight."

"Then why have you been ignoring me since we walked off the dance floor? Did I say something wrong to Leonid or Juliana?"

"No." He wanted to leave it at that, sanity told him to leave it at  that, but the vulnerable look she wore tore at his insides. He exhaled  deeply. "I'm keeping my distance."

That gray stare widened. Her hands fluttered uselessly to her lap. The  uncivilized part of him knew he never should have looked at her.

"This attraction between you and me..." He shook his head. "It can't happen. We both know that."

She nodded. But her gaze stayed glued to his as if she knew the train  was running off the track, but was willing to risk full and complete  disaster.

"Francesca..." The word was a final, husky plea for her to put some  distance between them. She didn't. She moved toward him at the same time  he brought her closer with a palm to the bare skin of her back. It felt  even sexier than he remembered.

His fingers curved around her delicate jaw, and for the first time in as  long as he could remember, he did something for the pure pleasure of  it. He kissed the woman he'd been wanting to touch since the night he'd  found her sitting in Tessa's chair.

Her lush mouth was every bit as sweet as it had promised it would be.  Bare of the lipstick so many women slathered on, her lips were soft,  full and edible. He took them in a slow, sensual tasting designed to  entice. A soft sigh left her lips as she moved into the kiss, her hands  fluttering to his shoulders. The dominant male in him liked her  acquiescence. He tugged at her luscious lower lip, sucked it inside of  his mouth and savored it. She tasted of innocence and sensuality all at  the same time.