The CEO's Little Surprise(10)

Cass leaned forward and the new angle did fascinating things to the  deep V over her breasts. Not that he was a lecher, but come on. A lady  didn't wear a dress like that if she didn't want her date to notice her  spectacular breasts. And a lady who didn't want a man to imagine tasting  her breasts definitely didn't lean.

"Really. No secrets?"

"Really, really." His tongue was still a bit thick.

"Sounds like we need to play a game of truth or dare, then."





Five

Cass held her breath as Gage's gaze flew to hers. It had been lingering  somewhere in the vicinity of her cleavage, and the heat from his  appreciation had been warming her uncomfortably for the better part of  ten minutes. But what had she expected with such a daring wardrobe  choice?

Gage's eyes on her body were far more affecting than any other man's hands would be.

Question marks shooting from the top of his head, Gage lifted a brow.  "Yeah, truth or dare. That's what I was thinking, too. How did you  know?"                       
       
           



       

She bit back the laugh. Even when he was being sarcastic, he was still  charming. She wasn't falling for it. "I'm serious. If you don't have any  secrets, should be an easy game."

And she could pump him for information about his involvement in the leak without raising red flags. It was brilliant.

Lazily he traced the rim of his untouched wineglass, watching her with  undisguised calculation. But what all those equations added up to, she  had no idea. The clink of silverware against china filled the sudden  silence, along with snatches of conversation from other diners.

"You know how that game works, right?" he finally asked.

She waved dismissively. "Of course, or I wouldn't have suggested it. I  ask you a question and if you don't choose to answer it honestly, you  have to do whatever I dare you to."

"And you have to do the same." The once-over he slid down her body unleashed a shiver.

She'd considered that. Not enough, apparently. "Yeah, so? I'm not worried."

The waiter brought their dinners but instead of picking up a fork, Gage  folded his hands in front of his plate of salmon and asparagus. "You  probably should be. But now I'm insanely curious what you want to know  that you feel you have to bury inside a game. You could just ask."

Her pulse tripped as she scrambled for a response. She was slipping.  How had he seen through that ploy so easily? "That's no fun."

His laugh curled up inside her thickly. "It so can be, but it's all in  the asking. No matter. I'm in. Truth or dare away. Truth for my first  round."

Forking a bite of salmon into his mouth, he watched her expectantly and  it bobbled her pulse again. This was why she sold cosmetics for a  living instead of becoming an investigator. There was a skill to it  apparently, one that she lacked. Too late to back out now.

"Have you ever..." She cursed silently. Thinking on the fly was one of  her strong suits but not with Gage's hazel laser beams boring into her.  Say something. "Cheated on your taxes?"

"That's your question?" He shook his head with a laugh. "I'm almost  afraid to ask what the dare would be. But it doesn't matter because I  have nothing to hide. As much as I think the corporate tax structure  needs to be reworked in favor of businesses, no, I've never cheated on  my taxes."

Taxes. Could she be more boring? Despite having warned him that she was  not a fun date, she had a goal here and she needed to get on it by  steering the conversation toward his ethics. "But you cheat at cards.  All the time."

His slow smile did something X-rated to her insides. "That's only when  we're playing strip poker, darling. And believe me, it's worth it."

The memory of messing around in college, using things like card games  as foreplay, spiked through her. They'd always ended up naked and  breathless. The anticipation had been drawn out over the length of a  game she could hardly pay attention to because Gage had been revealing  himself oh-so-slowly while she sat there in a similar state of  vulnerability.

Kind of like now.

And she couldn't unthink it. Back then, when they'd finally come  together, she'd exploded under his careful and thorough lovemaking.  Because he had always thoroughly engaged her-mind, body and soul.

And that hadn't changed. The moment she'd recognized Gage in the  parking lot, it felt as though she'd woken up from a coma. She hadn't  realized how much she'd missed being so comprehensively engaged. How  much she missed a man paying attention to her.

No. Not any man. This one.

Their gazes met over the table, burning up the atmosphere. Obviously he  was recalling their hot and heavy times, as well, and his expression  unleashed a shiver she couldn't control. Something unknitted inside,  falling apart as if all the glue holding her together melted at  Gage-point-five degrees.

They'd once been so close because they had so much in common. They'd  shared the same goals, and she'd always been able to count on him to  have the answers she sought. She'd counted on him to encourage her, to  push her. Because he understood her.                       
       
           



       

It was so much more powerful now that they were equals. Gage Branson,  CEO, was so much more attractive than he'd been as her mentor.

Fork suspended in midair, he tilted his head. "Weren't we playing a game?"

Cass blinked. The game. The suspicions. Her precarious position within  Fyra. She bit back an unladylike swear word and took a fortifying sip of  wine.

How had she fallen into Gage so easily that she'd forgotten what this  dinner was supposed to be about? He'd cursed her with his magic voice  and wicked personality, lulling her into believing they were former  lovers reconnecting over a drink.

He wasn't on her side, not like he used to be. Maybe he never had been.  As he was making love to her, he'd probably already be plotting his  escape. Just like he'd almost assuredly plotted to steal her formula.

Gage Branson, CEO, wasn't any more of a good bet with her heart than he had been as a graduate student.

She steeled her spine against the good memories and dredged up the bad  ones. She'd spent years working sixteen-hour days so she could fall into  bed exhausted and actually sleep. Otherwise, she lay there in misery,  aching over having lost the love of her life.

And here he was again, ripe for a comeuppance and deserving of whatever  she threw at him. She narrowed her gaze and shoved back the past. "We  got off track. Sorry. Next question. Have you ever stolen anything?"

"I'm supposed to say whether I want truth or dare first." Warily, he  eyed her. "What's with all these moral questions anyway? Admittedly,  it's been a long time since I played truth or dare, but I seem to recall  we always asked things like who was your first crush or have you ever  gone skinny-dipping?"

"Those are great questions for eleven-year-olds. This is the adult  version," she informed him pertly and was instantly sorry as something  wicked flashed through his expression.

"Why didn't you say so?" His slow smile had all sorts of danger signs attached to it. "I'd like to take the dare, then."

She cursed. Should have anticipated that he'd take the dare, dummy. "I dare you to answer the question."

"Oh, no, honey," he said with a laugh. "It doesn't work like that. You  promised me the adult version and I'm fully prepared to pay up for not  answering. Lay it on me."

Clearly he expected the dare to come packaged in a thinly veiled sexual  wrapper. So she indulged him with a sensuous smile. "I dare you to take  your shirt off."

"Here?" He glanced around the crowded, high-class restaurant with a  dubious line between his brows. "It doesn't seem fair to show up all  these other guys. Can't you think of something else?"

Typical male machismo. Of course if his body still looked like it used  to-and chances were high that it did-his point was valid.

"Chicken?" she asked sweetly. "You wanted the dare."

"I'd be happy to take my shirt off," he growled. "In the car. In your  living room. In your office. No card game required. Pick another locale,  sweetheart, and dare me to get naked to your heart's content.  Unfortunately, there are both a dress code and health regulations in a  restaurant. Which means your dare is invalid."

First the insistence he always paid his fair share of taxes and then  he'd refused her dare because of health regulations? She bit back the  noise of disgust. Barely. "When did you become such a boy scout?"

"I've never willingly broken the law." He shrugged. "So there's your answer since I can't take the dare. My turn."