God, he felt good.
She needed to go on a real date, obviously, with a nice man who would treat her well and drink the wine she'd ordered. They'd have a pleasant evening ending with a romantic nightcap at her place and then he'd gently and attentively make love to her.
Above all, when she told him what to do, he'd do it.
"I'm okay. Thanks," she threw in before he started mimicking her again.
"I'm not okay." He bent his head to murmur into her ear. "And I like you where you are."
His breath on her skin and his hard thigh between her legs-hell, his voice alone-ripped through her in a white-hot streak of lust.
Insanity. She needed that nice man, pronto, so she could slake this thirst. A couple of rounds with Mr. Gentle-and-Attentive and she'd be good for another year or so. Gage Branson wouldn't cause so much as a blip on her sex radar.
"This is supposed to be business only," she reminded him, but her voice cracked in the middle of the sentence and she doubted he was listening anyway.
"Hold still."
Eyes on her hair, he reached up and plucked one chopstick from her chignon, tossed it to the wooden slats under their feet and went for the other one as she yelped.
"What are you doing?" she protested as her hair spilled down her back.
"I couldn't help it." His own voice broke as he threaded both hands through the strands, winding up the locks around his fingers, a groan rumbling in his chest that vibrated her rib cage. "Your hair. It's so beautiful. Why do you put it up?"
"It's professiona-"
His mouth hit hers and stole the rest of her words as he kissed her into stunned silence. Hot and wet, his tongue slid through her lips and pleasured her relentlessly.
Tugs at her hair tilted her head back, and he took her deeper into the sensuous haze. She lost all sense of up or down, all sense period because, oh, yes, Gage was kissing her again and she wanted it.
The emotional tangle? Not on the agenda. If she could separate business from pleasure, she could surely separate pleasure from love. No broken hearts this time. She'd take a lesson from the King of Fun and have some.
Without warning, he pushed her against the wooden post. It wasn't brick biting into her back. Close enough.
His mouth drifted to her throat as his hands untangled from her hair to cup the back of her head, drawing her against his magic lips. She arched into him, and a moan escaped her throat, echoing in the still night.
All at once, his hands seemed to be everywhere, racing down her sides, at her shoulders. Pushing down the neckline of her dress. Her breasts sprang free of the fabric and he cupped one, bending to draw her taut nipple into his mouth.
She gasped. Exquisite. The pulls of his mouth and tongue buckled her knees but he had her. Yes, he did. He held her firmly in place as he pleasured her with his talented mouth. Shutting her eyes, she let the pleasure fork through her, damp heat gathering at her center until she thought she would burst if he didn't...
He did. One hand snaked under her dress and found her folds beneath the scrap of underwear. The barrier didn't exist to him. Clever fingers danced over her burning flesh, inside. Out.
Anyone could walk by. It heightened the pleasure...somehow. She hissed and opened wider, encouraging him to go deeper. Faster. Her breath came quicker as he drove her relentlessly, sucking at her breast, touching her intimately.
And then one final stroke shattered her resistance. She rode wave after wave of release, crying out at the strength and intensity of the pleasure he'd given her. Gage. Smart, funny, tender, amazing Gage. She'd missed him.
That was...not good. Oh, it had been good. But somehow he'd gotten below the surface, past her emotional armor.
When she floated back down from the heavens, he was watching her. He leaned in to set her dress back to rights, hands lingering, touching, pleasuring, and he murmured, "Take me back to your place. I want to do that again properly."
Again? She shook off the miasma of Gage and stared up at him, stricken with guilt. That beautiful face stared back at her and she longed to fall into him again without reservation, without fear. Without complications. Without agendas.
What was she doing? This wasn't the time to be playing around with fire, not with her career at stake and her company on the brink of disaster. Not when she wasn't sure she could actually stay emotionally uninvolved. She couldn't be vulnerable to him again, couldn't fathom how she'd pick herself up if he flattened her. Could. Not.
"I...can't."
And then her throat closed, forcing her to swallow the rest.
His expression blanked and he stepped back, releasing her. "Okay."
His tone said it was anything but. He didn't press her, though, which she was pathetically grateful for. Because if he had, he'd probably have broken down her resistance in about four seconds.
Yeah, she was a whiz at separating business and pleasure. The moment his flesh touched hers, all thoughts of business went out the window and she'd forgotten about digging for his secrets entirely.
That wasn't going to work. She had to get back in the game.
* * *
Gage dropped Cass off at her house with a terse good-night.
They hadn't spoken at all after she shut him down. Apparently, she could flip the ice-goddess switch at will, melting in his arms for a gorgeous orgasm that nearly finished him off, as well, and then hardening her spine right back into place.
He was slipping if that hadn't gotten him an invitation into her bed. Cass had matured in many intriguing ways, but she'd also grown...distant. He had to figure out how to get rid of that space between them or he'd lose his bid for the formula. This was one competition he could not afford to lose.
When he got back to his hotel, frustrated and alone, Arwen greeted him at the door, leash in her mouth. He groaned. Last thing he needed right now. "All right."
Happily, she sniffed her way in the dark to the small park across from his hotel, zigzagging between clumps of bushes as she always did. It got a small smile from him. He hadn't been able to send her home and midnight walks in the park were due penance.
Unfortunately, Arwen didn't talk so he was left with his thoughts for company and they were anything but restful.
This thing with Cass was a problem. She was making him lose his focus on the end game. He still didn't know why she'd asked him to help her or what that silly game at dinner had been about, but one thing was for sure-he'd fully intended to find out. That was before she'd put on that cranberry dress and driven him to thorough distraction.
Of course, his solution to eliminating the distraction had been-and would continue to be-burning off their mutual, insanely hot attraction with a night of uninhibited passion. Then, with that out of the way, they both could concentrate on the business at hand: the leak.
He hoped. He couldn't deny he wanted Cass more fiercely than he could ever recall wanting a woman. Maybe more. He still ached with unfulfilled release and it was an unpleasant reminder that somewhere in the middle of all of this, getting his hands on Cass had started to eclipse getting his hands on her formula. Somehow, his plan to remind her of what she owed him had vanished and become a plan to reacquaint himself with Cass as a lover.
That was an even bigger problem. He was not going home without that formula. So far, he wasn't balancing his two agendas very well.
That changed la mañana.
Seven
"Hi, Melinda," he said easily to Fyra's receptionist the next morning. "I have a nine o'clock with Ms. Claremont."
"Good morning, Mr. Branson," she chirped. "She's expecting you."
Looked as though Cass had already cleared the decks for their leak discussion, which was masquerading as a "consulting" gig. The cover story had been quick thinking on his part, if he did say so himself.
He knocked on her open door. Cass was waiting for him, leaning on the front of her desk, arms crossed over a sleek pantsuit. Chopsticks peeked over the edge of her crown and dang if his fingers didn't curl at the sight of them, itching to yank them out.
He tore his gaze away. Focus.
"Ready to get to work?" Cass asked coolly as if last night had never happened.
"Sure." He grinned to dispel the heavy vibe and slid into one of the chairs on the visitor's side of the desk. No power plays today. None of them had worked anyway.
Well...they'd worked to a degree. After all, he'd had Cass in his arms twice last night. That was progress. Very hot, very spectacular progress. His body sprang fully alert.
Focus, he reminded himself.