At least, that was the line of bullshit he kept trying to sell himself.
As Rafaela’s lips brushed his ear, her long fingers curled over his thigh, and she said in her thick Brazilian accent, “I want to fuck.”
“Soon.” He let his gaze fall to her full, bee-stung lips. He cocked a head toward the group around the table, filled with football players, a smattering of models, and socialites. “I can’t leave yet.”
A lie. None of these people were his friends, and all he wanted was to go home.
Well, that wasn’t true either.
All he really wanted was to go to Penelope’s house, sit on her couch, and watch bad TV with her curled next to him. Such an impossibility, he might as well say he wanted to go fly to Mars.
He was still kicking himself for the incident at her house. He’d been a fool to touch her again. He’d known it was a mistake, but he hadn’t been able to help himself. He’d broken the seal and now he was like an addict. The only way he’d kept his hands off her all these years was by never touching her in the slightest way, doing everything in his power to make sure she hated him, and never, ever being alone with her.
His plan had worked beautifully.
She clearly hated him. Although she still wanted him. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t quite hide her reaction. Since that first night, all those years ago, they’d had powerful chemistry.
And none of the countless women he’d taken to bed had changed that.
Under the table, Rafaela’s hand closed over his cock and squeezed. “Now.”
He looked at her and felt nothing.
He must be out of his fucking mind. Any sane, reasonable man would jump at the chance to take her to bed. Evan had firsthand knowledge of her skills, but couldn’t work up the slightest interest.
It was time to throw in the towel. As much as he wanted to get back on the horse, to go back to the person he’d been before his injury, he couldn’t.
It felt like pretending.
Even before he’d been hit in the head he’d been vaguely dissatisfied with the state of his life, but then he’d had the game to distract him. Now, with nothing to fill the void, he could no longer escape the emptiness.
No matter how much he tried to talk himself into it, he didn’t want to fuck Rafaela. He didn’t want to party all night with a bunch of strangers. Didn’t want to do anything but go home, play football, and see Penelope.
Since the last two were impossible, he settled for the only thing he could control.
He placed his hand over Rafaela’s. “I’m ready to leave.”
The model gave him a satisfied, pouty smile and squeezed again. She leaned over and whispered in his ear, “I’ve missed your big cock.”
He removed her hand. “Alone.”
“What?” Her brow furrowed in confusion.
“I can’t do this.” He looked away from her only to come face-to-face with Penelope.
She’d been haunting him for days, and for a moment he thought he’d conjured her, but the Penelope of his imagination didn’t look at him with ice in her eyes and that set of her jaw. No, this Penelope was real, and she stood before him in a slim cut, off-the-shoulder black dress that hugged her lean frame, and high heels.
Their gazes locked.
Fuck. This looked all wrong.
What was she doing here? He was halfway out of his chair, mouth already open to explain, when he realized Sophie stood next to her, and he couldn’t say anything to her at all.
He sat back down.
The past was a secret they’d both never shared.
Oblivious to the tension, Sophie grinned at him. “Hey, Evan, good to see you out of the house.”
If he was smart, he’d slip back into this customary smug-playboy role, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Penelope. “What are you doing here?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her attention across the bar.
Sophie threw her arm around Penelope. “Our girl here closed a huge, businessy-type deal, so of course I had to take her to the best hot spot in the city to celebrate.”
That didn’t surprise Evan; Penelope was the smartest person he knew. He didn’t think there was anything she couldn’t do.
All he wanted to do was explain that Rafaela meant nothing to him. That he didn’t want her, had never wanted her. But he couldn’t say any of that. He cleared his throat. “Congratulations.”
Across from him, Darnell Jones, a running back with the Bears, craned his neck to check out the two women. Clearly they met with his satisfaction when he flashed his big, trademark smile. “You ladies want to join the party?”
Penelope flicked a glance at Evan. “No, thank you, we need to be going.” She grabbed her friend’s arm. “Come on, Soph.”
Sophie gave her a confused glance, and nodded. “You sure? It’s only twelve thirty and this is your big night.”
Darnell patted his knee and leered at Penelope. “Come on over, sweet thing. Daddy will make sure to give you a proper celebration.”
Evan gripped the edge of the chair and forcibly had to keep from reacting.
Penelope’s gaze slid to his, flicked over Rafaela, before shaking her head. “I’ve been up since five.”
Darnell grinned. “Might as well make it a full twenty-four hours.”
Penelope gave him that fake, pleasant smile that always irritated Evan. “Thank you for the offer, but it’s time to go.”
Sophie’s lips turned down but she nodded before shifting her attention to him. “You’ll be at the benefit, right, Evan?”
His family would murder him if he wasn’t. “I’ll be there.”
Penelope turned, dragging Sophie with her, not even bothering to say good-bye.
He watched her go, ass a steady, hurried sway, as though she couldn’t get away from him fast enough. Which, in truth, she probably couldn’t. Jaw clenched, he sat there, powerless to stop her, reminding him of everything wrong with his life. With him.
Rafaela gripped his jaw and dragged his attention away from Penelope’s retreating form. “Is that why?”
“What?” He pried her fingers from his face and put them in her lap, and played dumb. Penelope wouldn’t believe it, but this wasn’t the first time a woman had questioned him about her. The last being at his brother’s wedding when Penelope had caught him with the girl whose name he hadn’t remembered.
Still couldn’t remember.
Rafaela tilted her chin toward the departing women. “The brunette. Is she why you want to go home alone?”
God, suddenly he was just so exhausted. So fucking tired of keeping up the pretense that she meant nothing to him. Just once, he wanted to admit it to someone, even if that someone was a hot Brazilian model who meant nothing to him. He sighed, and scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Yeah, she is.”
Chapter Six
Penelope smiled at Logan Buchanan, who sat across from her at their normal lunch spot, Joe’s. After years of working together, they’d moved from cordial colleagues to acquaintances, and finally to friends. Now, instead of having meetings at their office, they had long lunches that were probably only twenty-five percent business and seventy-five percent stress relief.
A former SEAL Six, Logan owned a high-tech, military-savvy investigation and security firm that did hush-hush work for the government and companies all over the world. Shane and Logan had been friends forever¸ after bonding over a shared misbegotten youth, and Logan’s firm investigated all their top candidates.
She slipped the encrypted flash drive Logan had tossed on the table into her purse. She’d summarize the details on their top candidate for the open CFO position and report the findings to Shane and the head of HR after she got back to the office. She glanced at Logan. “Nothing alarming, I presume?”
“Just your standard, run-of-the-mill, squeaky-clean suburban husband,” Logan said, putting his menu aside.
Penelope smiled. Exactly what she’d expected. “Well, with those types you never can
tell. I’m glad my instincts were spot-on.”
Logan laughed. “Almost annoyingly so. He’s an all-around good guy, coaches Little League, appears to love his wife, and his past employers have nothing but good things to say about him. If anything, he might be too good for you.”
“What are you trying to say? We’re squeaky clean.” They made sure of it.
“True. But Shane’s way of doing things might be hard on the guy, if you know what I mean.”
Penelope did know what he meant. While Shane ran a highly ethical company, he had a blunt force about him, high standards, and was generally considered ruthless when it came to negotiations. A natural leader, he expected a lot of his executives, but being yes-men wasn’t one of them. He picked strong personalities and it wasn’t unheard of for staff meetings to get a bit . . . rowdy.
When she’d put together the candidates for the CFO position, part of the reason she’d selected Floyd Casella was she thought he’d be a good counterbalance to the group, but Logan’s comment gave her pause. She worried her bottom lip. “Do you think he wouldn’t be a good fit?”
Logan tilted his head to the side, and shrugged one broad shoulder. “You’d know better than me, but his mild manner is something to be noted. I can see where you’re going with him, but he seems at odds with the rest of the group.”
Contemplating, Penelope tapped her nails on the table. “People might say the same about me.”
Logan scoffed, his expression turning to incredulity. “Hardly. You fit right in with that bunch.”
“I do not! I’m completely mild mannered, levelheaded, and logical.” She was often the only calm one in the room when things got heated, and it was her job to get them to stay on track. Floyd was her top candidate, not only because of his exemplary track record, but because she thought it would be nice to have someone else on her side to calm the waters.
“You are all those things.” Logan took a sip of his iced tea, the corded muscles in his forearms flexing. “But you’ve also got a spine of steel, and can not only go toe to toe with any one of them, but you often win. You might not be yelling and screaming, but you don’t get lost in the crowd either. You’re like a hawk, staying above it all, before you sweep in for the kill.”
“And you don’t think Floyd is capable of that?”
Logan narrowed his blue eyes. “I have my doubts.”
Penelope nodded. Logan had uncanny instincts, ones she’d learned not to ignore. She’d have to think seriously about his observations. “I’ll take it under advisement and talk to Shane.”
“Then my work here is done.”
Penelope beamed at him. “Thank you, by the way. That might be the nicest compliment I’ve gotten all month.”
Logan stared at her for a good ten seconds before he said, “You know, most women think a compliment is ‘you look pretty today.’”
Penelope rolled her eyes. “Boring and patently untrue. Women want to be viewed as highly competent just as much as men.”
Logan laughed, shaking his head. “Do you have any idea how much I wish we had chemistry?”
It was Penelope’s turn to chuckle. “It is one of life’s cruel ironies, isn’t it? Because we are clearly perfect for each other.”
“Clearly. And you’ve got the most killer set of legs I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
She crumbled up her napkin and threw it at him. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”
He was right. It was a damn shame. Simply put, the man was gorgeous with his dark brown hair, blue eyes, and sculpted features. He was also well over six feet, and blessed with an absolutely flawless body.
If there was one man who could rival Evan, it was Logan, but it wasn’t meant to be.
When they’d first met, they’d danced around each other, and she’d wondered if it was possible she’d finally met someone who would get Evan out of her head for good.
Then, they’d gone on a date. The night turned into a series of comical disasters that quickly dashed any budding attraction they might have had.
They’d been friends ever since.
Logan waved over the waitress, who practically tripped over herself to get to him.
Penelope sighed as the girl came to a crashing, breathless halt at the table. “What can I get for you?”
“I’ll take another iced tea,” he said in his smooth, low tone.
Cecilia once described his voice like maple syrup sliding over a stack of pancakes, and she wasn’t far off. Too bad the voice Penelope wanted to hear was a rough rasp in her ear.
She shook her head. No. She refused to think one more second about Evan, or that night at the club. She’d spent far too much time obsessing about him, and that . . . that . . . woman. She gritted her teeth at the memory. The woman with the long, golden-brown hair was clearly a model, and had been so disgustingly perfect, Penelope was doubtful they even had to Photoshop her. Her hand had been high on his thigh, stroking him like a cat.
But what really killed Penelope was the stab of betrayal she’d experienced. That swift, instinctive, forbidden thought that he belonged to her. She hated him for it, hated herself even more.
Since the morning Evan walked out of her life he’d been unwavering in his actions. He never changed, especially where supermodels were concerned.
Well, good, Penelope had done her job. She’d given him the kick in the ass he needed, and now he could trot off and bed as many girls as he wanted. He was out of the house. She’d fulfilled her purpose. She’d helped the Donovans, and that had been her only goal. Mission accomplished.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
Now they could go back to normal. She’d stayed strong the night he’d shown up at her house. She’d made sure he’d never bother her again. And when had Evan ever come after her? Never, that’s when. Not once. She’d always come to him.
Well, except for the night his dad died, and look how that ended. With disas—
Snap. Logan’s fingers flew in front of her face, startling her out of her spiraling thoughts.
She blinked. “What?”
Logan pointed to the waitress. “Are you ready to order?”
A flush heated her cheeks. Damn Evan. She straightened her spine. All right, no more thinking about him. She turned to the waitress. “Can we have a few more minutes?”
The waitress gave her a perfunctory nod before turning her attention back on Logan, biting her lower lip in a way she probably thought sexy. “Can I get you anything besides the iced tea?”
Whenever Penelope went anywhere with Logan, women practically swooned and weren’t at all shy about expressing their interest right in front of her.
“I’m good, darlin’,” Logan said.
The girl looked like she was going to have a good old-fashioned attack of the vapors before she managed to get herself under control and leave to do Logan’s bidding.
Penelope waved a hand in the girl’s direction. “Don’t you ever get tired of the fawning?”
Logan grinned and shrugged one broad shoulder. “It has its benefits.”
Penelope wrinkled her nose. “Should I be insulted all these women hit on you right in front of me?”
Logan laughed. “Did you ever think maybe they wouldn’t if you didn’t drift off while I was talking to you? Or acted remotely interested in me?”
Penelope smirked. “Good point.”
“And what exactly were you thinking about? Your expression looked like you were plotting a murder.” He shuddered. “It was terrifying.”
“Oh nothing,” she lied. “Just something I remembered I’d forgotten to do.”
“Yeah, right, you never forget anything.”
Unfortunately, Logan was a little too perceptive to fall for her evasion. “I forget anything that’s not in my iPad.”
Except Evan. There wasn’t a trace of him anywhere, yet he refused to leave her head.
Before Logan could probe any further, she placed folded hands on the table in front of her and got straight to her ulterior motive. “I
had another reason for asking you here today.”
He cocked a brow. “What’s that?”
“I need a favor.”
“Anything, you know that.”
She did, which was precisely why she was coming to him. “Do you have a date for the benefit?”
“No, I haven’t had time to think about it,” he said, his words slow and filled with speculation.
“Would you like to go with me?”
“Why?” He gave her a once-over. “Don’t you want to go with one of your normal, corporate types?”
Oh, she’d thought about it, but they didn’t pack the kind of punch she was looking for. The guys she normally dated wouldn’t give Evan a moment’s pause. But Logan, well, that was a different story.
At least in theory.
Not that she believed Evan would be jealous. He’d seen her with other men and never showed the slightest hint of reaction. But her dates had never been men like him, and that’s where Logan came into this sordid little drama of hers.
If Evan thought she was with Logan, it would prove to him she hadn’t given a moment’s thought to him and the supermodel, or their encounters where she’d let him touch her.
Under normal circumstances she didn’t engage in game playing, but she was making an exception to the rule. Just this once. Besides, she wasn’t leading Logan on, and he occasionally escorted her to corporate functions. Although, this was the first time she’d asked for something more personally related.
“With this promotion, I’m swamped, and I don’t want to give anyone false hope.” She said the words with a breezy lightness, before waving her hand. “I have no time to date.”
Logan scrubbed a hand over his jaw. He wore a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, highlighting his lightly tanned skin. “That will save me the trouble of getting a date.”
Penelope grinned. “Of course, I do realize this means you’ll be spending a Saturday night sans sex, so I’ll pay for your ticket to make it up to you.”
Logan laughed. “Deal.”
“You’re the best.”
Logan picked up the menu. “I aim to please.”
As Good as New Page 6
