Now he could potentially lose everything.
He whipped around, turning his back to the door, and landed a right hook into his open palm. His simple engagement deal was edging closer to a DEFCON One situation, and if he planned to satisfy some of the more traditional partners, not to mention his skeptics, Nick needed proof of love. He needed a ring and a proposal. He linked his fingers behind the back of his neck and stared up at the ceiling. How the hell was he going to manage that?
…
Marianne stared at the calculation on her computer screen. She’d run the numbers nineteen times and the result was still the same. But it couldn’t be. The kiss she shared with him last night could not be statistically significant; it was just a close call, an experiment, baby steps on her journey toward sexual freedom. If it meant anything more, he would’ve recognized her.
She stabbed at the keys and reentered the data—the number of minutes she’d spend engaged to Nick—a figure totaling roughly 59,040—and its correlation to the likelihood that she’d kiss him again. Oh, hells bells, she already wanted to kiss him again.
Finished, she sat back in the office chair and pressed the keys to run the algorithm one more time…and…yes, the same result appeared on the screen. According to the love matrix she’d designed, she and Nick were a perfect match, which was, of course, totally impossible.
If they were a perfect match, he wouldn’t haven’t sounded so panicked when he’d called about his firm’s event tonight. Okay, maybe it was her panic echoing through the line. Nick had sounded cool and casual, his usual Bond-like self. Shaken, not stirred. She drew in a breath. He might be chill, but her nerves were definitely shaken. Tonight would be their first real test, a chance to prove they were happily engaged, in love…
A perfect match. Well, technically there was no such thing as perfect, but anything in the 97th percentile or higher was as close to perfect as statistically possible. They scored a 98.7.
How could she live up to that? With a score that high, if she continued to test her sexy skills by kissing him, her feelings could catch fire, and with Nick sure to bolt after the six weeks—could she handle it? She’d already been hurt, and badly; another dose of pain might crush her. Her fingers flew across the inset keyboard, adjusting the chemistry aspect of the dating algorithm. There had to be a fix.#p#分页标题#e#
Yes, she needed a date, and if she was honest, another baby step toward emancipating her inner seductress sounded good, too. But why didn’t he recognize her? He’d kissed her twice now, if there was more between them than a one-sided fascination, he ought to be able to see her. Really see her.
Typical. She wrinkled her nose at the screen. Blind and arrogant.
But sweet, too. Dagnabbit.
The tapping of a pair of high heels and the bitter aroma of coffee alerted Marianne to the fact that her boss was cruising over to her desk. Like most days now, Jane sported a smile on her face and a coffee carrier in her hand, but unlike most days, she had a hot pink cocktail dress flung over her shoulder.
“For your inner siren.” Jane set down the carrier and presented the dress as if she were delivering the Holy Grail. “In case you happen to have a sexy date night—with your fiancé.”
Marianne took one look at the strapless little number, swiveled away from her desk, plucked the dress from her friend’s hand, and walked over to the closet. The one on the far side of the office. No way was she falling for the dress gambit a second time. She’d have to get through tonight in her best cardigan and skirt combination.
Jane followed. “Are you excited about tonight? Do you need anything? Shoes, maybe? A trip to the lingerie store?”
A trip to the lingerie store? Marianne whirled around to face her. “So you know about his big work event?”
“Nick might have texted me…”
She rested her hands on her hips. “And does he know about the cake jumping?”
Jane held up her hands in surrender. “Absolutely not. Not from me. Or Charlie.”
Marianne spun around and marched straight back to the desk. She needed to put some distance between herself and the little pink dress calling to her from the closet. She was a serious person. Not a woman tempted by a dress or a field trip to buy underwear. “I can’t believe he doesn’t know…doesn’t recognize me.”
A perceptive smile on her face, Jane lifted a grande herbal tea from the carrier and handed it to her. “Love is blind.”
“Love?” Her brows snapped together in annoyance. “Who said anything about love?”