"That's so generous of you to let me pick after leaving me so few choices otherwise," she said, infusing it with enough sarcasm to clue him in that she still wasn't clear on what she owed him.
"You always have choices," he countered. "One just might lead to a different place than the other."
"Well said." With a cryptic nod, she brushed past him onto the front steps, engulfing him in a delicious haze of jasmine and other exotic spices. On Cass, the scent was half "come and get me" and half "I'm untouchable." A thoroughly arousing combination.
Somehow, he managed to drive to the restaurant without veering off into a ditch. Or a shadowy hiding place between two buildings where he could ravish the cool beauty in the next seat. If he wanted her willing, he had to get back on track. But the ice in her spine seemed extra hard and cold tonight.
The restaurant was as highbrow as they came, making him glad he'd tossed a suit in his overnight bag, just in case. The maître d' led them to a secluded table in the back, exactly as Gage had instructed, and left them blessedly alone.
Except Gage still didn't know how to play this dinner. Seduction or strategy? Which would get him an invitation through the front door of Cass's house at the end of the night? Because seduction might be the only way to get what he wanted in the end. A sated Cass might make for a much more reasonable Cass. But they did need to work together on the leak or the formula would be worthless. He couldn't ignore the need to discuss strategy.
Fortunately, what he apparently lacked in ESP, he made up for in charm and ingenuity. So he'd wing it. Like always.
Gage barely glanced at the wine menu before handing it over to Cass. "Since you called dibs on ordering the wine, here you go."
She arched one of those cool brows and took the leather-bound wine listing. The movement drew attention to her cleavage, where scarcely-contained nipples threatened to burst free of their cranberry lace cage at a moment's notice. A bead of sweat slid between his shoulder blades as he tore his gaze from her breasts.
"I was expecting more of an argument," she commented as if the sexual undercurrents didn't exist. "You're not a fan of wine, if memory serves."
No, but the fact that she recalled his preference put a good deal more warmth down south. As if he'd had room for more.
"I'll make an exception for you."
The more she drank, the less she'd remember to act like the ice goddess, or at least that had been the plan once upon a time when his faculties were in order. Back in her office, she'd seemed...brittle. As if she'd needed someone to pay attention to her. Cass was in sore need of a glass of wine and an orgasm, and not necessarily in that order.
That made up his mind. He wanted to give her a chance to relax, as he'd entreated her to. One of them should be able to anyway. Seduction first. And then they could talk leak strategy later. Much later.
With their food, Cass ordered a four hundred dollar bottle of wine-exorbitant, as promised-and once the waiter left to retrieve it, she folded her hands, contemplating Gage as if she'd found an amusing little puppy she didn't know whether to pet or send outside for peeing on the floor.
"Tell me something," she began in her boardroom voice that he should not find so sexy.
"Sure. I'm an open book." He spread his hands wide, earning a small, less-than-amused smile. She needed to drink more. Maybe her Gage-proof armor would fall off along with her inhibitions.
Once, they'd talked about everything under the sun and he'd enjoyed hearing her thoughts and soothing her through her angst. Just like he'd enjoyed being her mentor, shaping her, guiding her.
Maybe you hope to fall into that role again, with the hero worship and Pygmalion overtones, hmm?
Yeah. He did. And she needed his help to find the leak. Needed him. So what? Seduction and strategy, then. All of that worked together to get him the formula. Where was the harm?
"Why the interest in my formula?" she asked point-blank. "Other than the song and dance about how I owe it to you. For real. Why? You've expanded your retail reach enormously over the past five years and you just landed that endorsement deal. Something must have prompted you to show up on my doorstep."
"That's a fair question," he acknowledged, impressed that she'd done her homework on his company. And that's why he chose to answer her honestly. "It's simple really. My target consumers are starting to pay close attention to things like bar-fight scars and wrinkles. So I launched my own product. I don't want any competition."
"Gage, there are a hundred wrinkle creams on the market. Your competition is legion."
"No." He caught her gaze and held it. "There's only one person who's my equal."
"So this is a pride thing." Looking away, she sipped the glass of wine the waiter had placed in front of her and murmured her appreciation for the red blend. "You can't stand it when a competitor is primed to beat you."
He might as well be made of glass when it came to Cass and that was sexy, too. Dang if he could figure out why he was so drawn to her when all he should care about was whatever got him that formula.
Ignoring his own vile glass of headache in a bottle, he grinned because it would be pointless to argue when she clearly saw the truth. But that didn't mean they had to dwell on it.
Gage slid a palm across the table and captured her hand before she could prevent it. "Don't think of me as your competition, not tonight."
She glanced down at their joined hands but didn't snatch hers away. He could tell she was contemplating it, though, hopefully because she also felt the electricity between them-and it was working to loosen her up.
"But you are. Always and forever. We sell similar products or you wouldn't be here. Nor would you have been my mentor. Competition is not something you can will away."
"Maybe not. I can, however, ban all business talk until later. Then we're just old friends reconnecting. Like I told you in your office."
He had the distinct impression she didn't loosen up easily these days. If there was any competition going on tonight, that was it. And he didn't intend to lose this particular contest.
"I'm curious," she said, her gaze back on him but not nearly warm enough for his taste. "I never see you at trade shows. My email address is easy to locate on Fyra's website. If you have such an interest in reconnecting, why haven't we done so before now?"
A hot prickle walked across the back of his neck as he instantly recognized a spring-loaded trap, ready to close around his leg if he moved the wrong way. An unsettled feeling bled through his chest.
And in the end, he was the one to pull his hand back from hers, suddenly uncomfortable with the contact.
"I hate trade shows. They're stifling. And they're always on weekends when I'm...busy."
That had sounded much dirtier than he'd intended, especially when lately, his weekends had consisted of giving Arwen a bath or taking her to the lake so she could have fun practicing her pointer skills.
Cass watched him without blinking, silently waiting on him to stop stalling and get to the meat of her question, which was basically designed to force him to admit he'd developed an interest in her in order to get his hands on her formula.
Maybe it had started out as a little of both-seducing her to ensure she remembered what she owed him. He wasn't a saint.
But at this moment, he really did want to be a friend. None of her other so-called friends seemed to realize how brittle she was under her super-CEO costume. Someone had to banish the shadows of fatigue and uncertainty in her gaze. Give her a safe place to let her hair down, which would preferably be in his bed, like she'd once done.
Yeah. He'd like to pull those pins from the tight blond twist at her crown, all right. His lower half went rock solid as he imagined that fall of hair raining down around her bare shoulders as he peeled that lacy, sexy cranberry-colored dress from her beautiful body. It was crazy to be so hot for her again after not seeing her for so long-or to her point, after not actively pursuing reacquaintance for all these years.
He should have looked her up. Why hadn't he?
He blew out a pent-up breath. "Truth? I didn't drive up from Austin to reconnect over a drink. I want your formula. But that's just business."
Tonight was very personal.
Nodding at the wine bottle, she drained her glass and held it out for Gage to pour her another. "I'm surprised you'd admit it."
"I told you, I'm an open book. I don't mind being cagey when the occasion calls for it, but I don't have deep dark secrets." Who had time for that noise? Life was too short to care about other people's opinions, and that's all secrets were-things you didn't want others to know because you feared their judgment.