And the Winner Gets...Married!

by Metsy Hingle

  “You have magical hands,” Kim murmured.

  The husky timbre of her voice stripped off another layer of his control. “Kim, I—”

  The sound of the elevator bell in the hall outside the suite sent sanity rushing back. Saved by the bell, Justin thought, and dropped his hands to his sides. Taking a step back, he dragged in a steadying breath just as the building’s chief of security entered the suite.

  “Evening, Mr. Connelly. Ms. Lindgren,” Tom Jenkins said.

  “Good evening, Tom,” Justin told the other man.

  “Hi, Tom,” Kim said softly.

  “I’m just making my rounds. You folks going to be here awhile longer?”

  “I’ll be here for another hour or so, but Ms. Lindgren is leaving now. As a matter of fact, I’d appreciate if you’d see her to her car.”

  “Sure thing, Mr. Connelly.”

  “But, Justin, my notes—”

  “Can wait until tomorrow,” he said briskly. “You’ve put in enough hours for one day. Go home, Kim. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Kim’s expression fell, and he could have sworn it was disappointment he read in those blue-green eyes. But before he could change his mind, he turned on his heels and retreated to his office, where he sat down at his desk and dropped his head into his hands.

  Talk about close calls. He was lucky, Justin assured himself. He’d come dangerously close to crossing the line with Kim just now, and tomorrow he would be grateful he hadn’t done so. Because if he’d kissed her as he’d wanted to do, he had no doubt he would have made a major mistake on both a personal and a business front. Silently patting himself on the back, he told himself he’d done the right thing. He’d done the noble thing. He’d walked away when every instinct in him had wanted to pull her close, taste her mouth.

  Yes, he was lucky, he reiterated. They both were. Lifting his head, Justin stared unseeingly at the work spread out across his desk. And as the memory of Kim’s scent, the feel of her skin came back to haunt him, Justin grimaced and decided that sometimes doing the honorable thing really sucked.

  Two

  Justin was just being kind. Don’t read anything into it.

  Kim repeated the words like a litany—just as she had been doing since she’d left the office hours earlier. Not that it seemed to be doing her much good, she admitted. Because, try as she might, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the way Justin had been looking at her just before Tom’s arrival. Not as a boss would, but the way a man looks at a woman. A woman he wants. And she’d felt the heat of those oh-so-serious hazel eyes trained on her like a caress.

  Even now, just remembering that look in his eyes made her shiver with excitement, with longing. Despite her limited experience with men, she knew desire when she saw it. And it had been desire she’d read in Justin’s eyes. Desire for her.

  Her. Plain, polite and boring Kimberly Lindgren.

  A ripple of pleasure raced over Kim even as that nagging voice inside her reared its head and warned her not to be foolish, not to delude herself by believing that Justin would ever see her as anything more than his assistant.

  Be realistic, she told herself. The man was a Connelly. A member of one of Chicago’s most prestigious families. Wasn’t he just voted one of the city’s most eligible bachelors? The man dated models, socialites, gorgeous women—not nobody secretaries with less than sterling pedigrees.

  But, lying in the darkness of her bedroom with morning still hours away and her thoughts so filled with Justin, she ignored the warning voices. For once she didn’t want to be the sensible and level-headed Kim Lindgren. Instead she wanted to relish the memories of how Justin had looked at her, touched her. Snuggling beneath the covers, she squeezed her eyes shut and allowed herself to relive those magical moments at the office with him. The feel of his hands—so strong, yet gentle. The warmth of his breath tickling her neck as he stood behind her. The hot, hungry look in his eyes when she’d turned around and met his gaze.

  Kim clasped her hands to her throat as the image of his face swam before her closed lids. He’d been standing so close to her, close enough that she could see the faint trace of stubble darkening his chin. Close enough for her to smell the woodsy and spicy scent that he always wore. Close enough for her to feel the warmth of his body just inches from her own.

  Her heart raced. That ache she got low in her belly whenever she dreamed of how it would be to have Justin hold her in his arms, to have him tell her that he loved her as she loved him, started anew. “And the chances of that ever happening are about as likely as Chicago getting snow in July,” she muttered as sanity returned at last.

  Grabbing her pillow, she flopped over onto her stomach and ordered herself to go to sleep. And in sleep she allowed herself to play out the fantasy as she never dared do when she was awake. In the safety of slumber she imagined the feel of his mouth—hot and hungry on hers—tasting her, filling her, and then the sound of his voice as he whispered words of love and called out over and over, “Kim…Kim…”

  “Kim? Kim, did you hear me?”

  The impatient note in Justin’s voice startled Kim from her musings. Embarrassed to be caught daydreaming, she looked up and found a somber Justin standing in front of her desk. “Sorry. What was that?”

  “I asked if you had a chance to draft that memo of understanding for my meeting with Schaeffer on Friday.”

  The all-business note in his voice lashed at her like a whip. “It’s on your desk in your in basket,” Kim answered, doing her best to match his cool tone.

  “Good,” he grumbled, and started toward his office only to pause and look back at her. “Are you feeling all right? You seemed…distracted.”

  Kim flushed. “I’m fine. I’ve just had my mind on putting together that date package for the bachelor auction so I can messenger it over to your sister today,” she told him, opting for the half-truth. She had been working on the package, but it hadn’t been the real source of her distraction. Justin had—or rather she’d been busy daydreaming that she was the lucky woman who would get to share the date with him.

  He groaned. “Don’t remind me. I still can’t believe I let Tara convince me to go through with that thing instead of just sending a check.”

  “Your sister’s very persuasive.”

  “Pushy is more like it.”

  Deciding not to comment on what seemed to be a family trait, she pointed out, “It is for a good cause.”

  “Which is the only reason I agreed to do it in the first place,” he informed her, and mumbled something about needing to have his head examined because he’d probably be changing clothes in the limo to get to the thing on time.

  Given Justin’s reluctance to participate in the auction, Kim suddenly questioned her decision to follow Tara’s advice and make the date one that she herself would find appealing. “Do you want to take a look at what I put together as your date package?” she asked, and picked up the envelope that contained a certificate that detailed a romantic sailing date on Lake Geneva.

  “I’m sure it’s fine,” he told her, and started again toward his office.

  “It’ll only take a minute to look it over, and I’d—”

  “I said it’s fine,” Justin snapped.

  Kim clamped her lips together and remained silent.

  Justin sighed, rammed a hand through his hair. “Listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bite your head off. It’s just that…I have a lot on my mind at the moment.”

  “I understand,” Kim replied, still stinging from his sharp tone. She did understand that Justin worked much too hard, that he demanded too much of himself. In the six months that she’d worked with the man, she had seen him in a number of stressful situations. But never once during that time had he ever raised his voice to her or spoken to her as he had a moment ago. Even worse, she hadn’t realized until now just how vulnerable she was to him or how much he could hurt her.

  Was it because of last night? she asked herself. Had he somehow picked up
on her feelings for him and was now uncomfortable with her?

  Mortified at the thought that Justin might know she was in love with him, Kim wished she could simply disappear.

  “Kim, I really am sorry,” he told her again, his expression softening. “The last thing I would ever want to do is hurt you.”

  Kim nodded and averted her gaze, afraid she would see pity in his eyes, afraid of what he would see in hers.

  He stood there a moment longer, then said, “I’ll be in my office the rest of the afternoon. Please hold my calls.”

  “But what about the lunch with your father?”

  “I canceled it so I could work on this Schaeffer deal. I’ll need to schedule some time with him when I get back from New York.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” she advised him, pleased that her voice could sound so professional and detached when inside she still felt raw, exposed.

  “Thanks,” he said, and disappeared inside his office.

  But the instant the door closed behind him, Kim lost some of the starch in her spine. So much for any notions that something had happened between them last night, she thought. Hoping that Justin might finally have begun to see her as more than just his assistant was obviously nothing more than a fantasy on her part. A fantasy that bore a painful resemblance to her mother’s string of hopeless romances. She’d adored her mother, missed her still. But as much as she had loved her, she had hated the constant highs and lows caused by her mother’s endless quest to find Mr. Right.

  Evidently she had more of Amanda Lindgren’s penchant for impossible dreams than she’d thought, Kim decided. Thank heavens she also possessed enough common sense and pride to choke a mule. Whatever change she’d thought she’d detected in Justin’s attitude toward her last night, it obviously wasn’t romantic in nature. There hadn’t been anything remotely romantic about the way he’d looked at her today. If anything, he’d seemed cool and unapproachable—not at all the warm, caring man she’d grown accustomed to working with these past months.

  Taking a cue from Justin, she promised herself that no matter how she felt about him, he would never know. She picked up the envelope containing the certificate for the bachelor auction. After enclosing it in a transmittal envelope, she started to attach a cover note to Tara declining the offer of the ticket. Then she hesitated. Maybe she would think about it some more. She tackled the pile of letters and messages on her desk, determined to bury herself in work and forget about those magical moments with Justin last night.

  “What else?”

  “I need you to sign off on these letters and the checks that go with them,” Kim informed Justin two afternoons later.

  Quickly he scanned the letters in question, noted the sums of the accompanying checks and scrawled his signature across the documents where indicated. As he did so, he steeled himself against her scent—a whiff of roses and something exotic—that filled his head each time he was near her. “Is that everything?”

  “Except for the final draft on the Schaeffer document. I’ve put in the additional changes you wanted, but you’ll probably want to go over it one more time to be sure everything’s covered.”

  She handed him the lengthy document he’d worked and reworked several times already, and as she did so, his fingers brushed hers. Kim snatched her hand away—but not before he’d felt that stab of awareness again. “I’ll take a look at it now, then maybe you can get out of here at a decent time, for a change.”

  “I’ll be at my desk.”

  After she’d exited his office and he was alone again, Justin swore. Something had to give—and soon. Ever since the other night, Kim had been acting differently toward him. Oh, she still was doing a great job as his assistant. He couldn’t have asked for anyone more knowledgeable, efficient or reliable. But he sensed a distance now, a wall, that hadn’t been there before. While he…he had been going slowly insane with very nonbusinesslike thoughts about her. Despite the fact that he’d driven himself relentlessly at the office during the day, then pounded on the bags at the gym until he was exhausted in the evenings, he’d lain awake for the past two nights thinking about Kim, wanting her. Try as he might, he hadn’t been able to forget the image of her the other night. Sighing, he sat back in his chair and closed his eyes.

  And there she was again with her hair tumbling down her back and shoulders. He curled his hands into fists, remembered how silky that hair had felt, how soft and warm her skin had been. He dragged in a breath and could have sworn he could smell her—that sweetness of roses and sunshine and secrets.

  Get a grip, Connelly.

  Justin snapped open his eyes. He had to stop thinking of Kim that way, he reminded himself. Maybe the trip to New York would help. Surely spending all day Friday, plus the weekend away from Kim would help him get his head and hormones straight. And who knows, maybe that bachelor auction would turn out to be a blessing in disguise. With a little luck he just might meet someone interesting. Maybe another female would make him forget all these wild thoughts he’d been having about Kim, Justin decided. And with that plan of action firmly in mind, he picked up a pen and went to work on the agreement.

  “That should do it,” Justin muttered some time later. He tossed down his pen and leaned back in his chair. Finally, after incorporating several suggestions from his father and fine-tuning the document once more, he was satisfied. Now he just needed to sell it to Schaeffer. Stretching to ease the stiffness in his shoulders, he cupped his hands behind his head and spun his chair around to face the windows.

  “Aw, hell,” he grumbled at the sight of the star-filled skyline. A quick glance at his watch told him he’d been at it for hours, which meant that Kim had been forced to stay late again. Shoving out of his seat, he tore out of his office.

  “What’s wrong?” Kim asked, jerking her gaze up from the computer screen.

  “It’s late, and I promised that you’d get out of here at a decent hour for a change.”

  “It’s only half past eight,” she informed him, and averted her gaze.

  “Only? You’re supposed to be able to leave at five.” He could probably count the times on one hand that she’d left at quitting time. He claimed a seat on the corner of her desk. “And thanks to me, you’ve had to work late again.”

  “I didn’t mind. I had some things I needed to catch up on. So did you finish?”

  “Yes,” he told her, but made no attempt to give her the agreement.

  Finally she shifted her gaze back to his for a moment. “If you intend for me to put in those changes, you’re going to have to give that to me,” she said, and held out her hand for the document.

  “I’ll plug in the changes. Just pull up the original agreement on the screen and then you can get out of here.”

  “Don’t be silly. I’ll do it,” she argued.

  “No. Go on home. You’ve stayed late enough.”

  Kim hesitated a moment. “Justin, is there something in that agreement that you’d prefer I not know about?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then since it is part of my job, I’ll make the changes,” she informed him. “Besides, as you’ll recall, the last time you used my computer, you, um, had some difficulties.”

  “That wasn’t my fault,” he said, recalling that the system had ended up crashing when the terminal had insisted he’d performed an illegal operation.

  “I’m sure it was just a coincidence. All the same I’ll feel better if you let me make the changes.”

  Reluctantly Justin handed over the pages.

  She scanned the edited sections a moment. “It’ll probably take me about twenty minutes to do these and print up a fresh copy. If you want to go home, I can drop the revised set by your apartment on my way home.”

  He found the idea of Kim visiting his apartment appealing. Which was why he said, “I’ll wait.”

  When his stomach grumbled a few seconds later, Kim looked up. “Maybe you should go down the street and have dinner while I take care of this. By the
time you get back, it’ll be finished.”

  “What about you? You haven’t eaten yet, either. And don’t tell me you’re not starved because I wouldn’t believe you.”

  “I’m all right,” she said as she continued to scroll down on the screen and make changes. “I’ll pick myself up something on the way home.”

  “Do you like pizza?”

  “Yes,” she said, pausing, her voice cautious, as were her eyes.

  “Everything on it?”

  “Justin, this isn’t necessary.”

  He ignored her and reached for the phone. After dialing information, he had the number connected. “Everything on it?”

  She frowned at him. “No anchovies.”

  Justin grinned at that. “You’re a girl after my own heart, Kim Lindgren,” he told her, and placed an order for a super-size pizza extravaganza with everything except anchovies.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” she admonished. “I’ll never be able to eat even a third of that pizza.”

  “Good. That means there’s more for me.”

  “But I thought…”

  “You thought?” Justin prompted.

  “I thought you would prefer to sit down to a real meal, something from a nice restaurant.”

  “By a ‘real meal’ I take it you mean a thick steak or some expensive entrée with a fancy sauce served on china?” Justin countered.

  “Yes.”

  Justin grinned at that. “You obviously don’t know many teenagers, do you?”

  She gave him a puzzled look, which caused her brow to wrinkle in the most adorable way. “No.”

  “Well if you did, you’d know that pizza isn’t only considered a real meal. It’s the best meal possible.”

  Justin had been right. The pizza was a fabulous meal, especially when it was accompanied by an enormous Italian salad, bread sticks and a glass of wine from the bar in his office. Kim couldn’t remember when she’d enjoyed a meal half as much.