In hindsight, it was probably a good thing that Conrad had shut her wishes down. But it felt like she’d tumbled three steps back in her life while Gracie was surging ahead—happy, loved, and now about to embark on the very journey Emmaline had wanted ever since they were kids.
“I’m so happy for you,” she said, grabbing Gracie and hugging her hard.
Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes but she blinked them away, furious at herself for the acidic burn of jealousy in her gut. No one deserved happiness more than Gracie, and she would not be the kind of bitchy big sister that made her feel guilty for sharing her good news.
But it only heightened the lack of anything important in Emmaline’s life. What did she have now? A guy who was essentially her fuck buddy, and who also happened to be her boss.
“Have you started taking folate?” Emmaline asked, trying to shake the dark thoughts from her mind. “It’s important for the baby. And cut back on the coffee.”
She reached forward toward Gracie’s cup, but her sister swatted her hand away. “Ease up, Mumzilla. I’ve already booked an appointment with an obstetrician, and I’m sure they’ll fill me in on all the pertinent details.”
“Mumzilla,” Libby laughed. “She’s just being a big sister. Right, Em?”
“Right.” Emmaline was grateful for a brief interruption as her mimosa was delivered to the table. She took a sip, resisting the urge to down the thing in one gulp and order the waiter to keep ’em coming.
“Enough about me,” Gracie said. “I promised Des I’d keep it quiet until we know everything is okay. Besides, I’d still like to know why you were late.”
Emmaline shrugged with an air of nonchalance that she hoped was convincing. “What does it matter? I got stuck in traffic.”
Gracie raised a brow. “I thought you said you lost track of time?”
“Was it a man?” Libby asked, her wide eyes glittering beneath a perfect application of winged liner.
“Was it the man from the park?” Gracie probed. “Did you see him again?”
Did she see him again? It sounded so innocuous when her sister put it like that. So innocent. What she’d done with Parker was anything but innocent. He’d busted down her inhibitions, opened up her eyes. Given her a pleasure beyond anything she’d ever known or experienced.
But casual sex, however pleasurable, wasn’t exactly something she was comfortable boasting about.
“You did! Good on you.” Gracie gave her a light slap on the arm. “How did you meet up again?”
Shit. Gracie was sharp as a tack when it came to the details.
“I saw him at the Tan again,” she lied, her face feeling like it was going red as a tomato.
“What are the odds? That sounds like something out of a Meg Ryan movie.” Libby grinned, her instant belief making Emmaline feel even worse.
Emmaline stared into her mug. She couldn’t meet Gracie’s eye.
“What’s wrong, Em?” Gracie’s hand reached across the table to squeeze hers. “For someone who’s getting lucky, you don’t seem to be all that happy about it.”
“Oh, I am.” She pasted a bright smile on her face. “Just a little tired, you know…from all the sex. And stuff.”
“I’m not even going to ask what ‘and stuff’ means,” Gracie laughed, her eyes still crinkled with concern. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”
“Of course.”
Another lie. Turned out spreading her wings and living the bachelorette lifestyle was a lot more complicated than she’d initially thought. But Emmaline would do what she always did—put on a happy face and figure out her problems on her own.
…
On Monday morning Parker leaned back in his office chair, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck. He’d gone for a run before work with the hopes of shaking off the restless energy that had plagued him all weekend.
Emmaline had up and left his bed first thing on Saturday, claiming she had somewhere else to be. That was twice now that she’d scurried away, although this time he’d been able to drag her to the shower first. Nothing he did sated the hunger inside him. Not pleasuring her over and over, not taking care of business himself. Not ignoring the problem and trying to focus on other things like work.
Even going for a run—which had always been his most effective stress-relief activity—had failed to give him space to think about anything other than the statuesque blonde.
He’d even made an excuse to visit the HR department so he could walk past her desk. Instead, he’d found her in the staff kitchen drinking coffee and giggling with Mark. Her eyes had flicked up to meet his for a brief second, but then she’d turned away and looked at him.
Jealousy churned in Parker’s gut. It was stupid to feel that way and totally uncharacteristic. But he’d felt stiff as he’d walked past them, coiled tight like a spring. He’d fought the urge to haul her away and mark his territory.
There goes that caveman thing again. You really need to put a lid on that.
“Parker?” Linda, the HR Director, blinked at him. He’d totally drifted off in the midst of their conversation. “Do you think this is something we could feasibly do?”
Shit, what were they talking about again?
“I know it might seem excessive to send staff to the regional offices for six months. We’d need to pay for accommodation and provide some offsite living allowances, but I feel it would make the staff there feel better connected to us here at head office,” Linda continued. “Plus, we’d be paying for a training facilitator anyway, so I don’t think the cost difference would be inappropriate. We have several staff here who would relish the opportunity for a short-term assignment like this. In fact, I have a few staff members who we think would fit the bill.”
He nodded. “I think it’s a great idea.”
Linda beamed. “I know Arthur’s stance was to keep employee travel to a minimum, but—”
“I’m not Arthur.”
“Right,” she nodded. “We have a small pool of HR employees that I feel have the skills for this type of assignment.” She flipped open a file that contained profiles of the staff, including headshots.
Emmaline’s picture smiled up at him, but another photo immediately stood out. An idea formed. It was an idea that he should have ignored, but couldn’t.
“I would have suggested Emmaline,” Linda said. “But I think it’s best for her to stay here given her involvement with the ASTAR program and the work she’s doing with you.”
“Agreed,” he said, relieved not to have needed an excuse for why he didn’t want to send her away. “What about Mark?”
“I didn’t know you were familiar with so many people on our team.” Linda beamed and that made him feel even worse. “Mark is a stellar candidate. He’s a bright young man, and he’s great with people. The team adore him.”
It was wrong to target the guy but Parker couldn’t resist the temptation. “Sounds like you have your man. Let me know what I need to sign off.”
“I have to check and see that his personal circumstances will accommodate this opportunity,” Linda replied, and when she saw Parker’s frown she quickly added, “but I’m sure he’ll be grateful to have been handpicked by the CEO.”
“Don’t share that particular detail with him.” Parker looked at his watch. “I wouldn’t want it to get out and discourage the other staff. Knowing you put him forward should be reward enough.”
“Of course.”
After Linda had left his office, Parker sat back and tried once more to work the tension from his shoulders. Sending Mark to another state for personal gain was a dick move. But the opportunity would be great for his career, so it wasn’t like Parker was putting the guy at a disadvantage.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that.
In reality, he was no better than Arthur. Like his dear old dad, he’d taken to having an affair with a woman from his office, was hiding it from everyone, and had now abused his power to get what wanted. Which was Emmaline,
alone.
His.
He’d ached to see her again. Ached to continue where they’d left off when she fled his apartment in that little black dress and those sanity-destroying heels. He’d stolen one last kiss from her then. A deep, searing kiss that had left him breathless and desperate.
Two things that Parker Wentworth did not identify with.
He wasn’t desperate, he simply went after what he wanted. “Fuck it,” he muttered, pulling up his email. The cursor blinked at him challengingly for a few moments before he started typing.
Subject: Dinner?
Emmaline,
I’d like to take you to dinner. Tonight.
P.
He stared at his computer screen as if willing his intentions to travel through the network cables.
Subject: Re: Dinner?
I’m not sure this is appropriate use of the work email system, Mr. Wentworth. I might have to report you to Information Security for violating the staff code of conduct.
Emmaline.
Cheeky minx. A smile stretched out across his lips, lazy and languid. He could imagine how she looked delivering the taunt, her blue eyes sparkling and those soft, pink lips smirking at him.
Subject: Official Work Business
It’s okay, I know the boss.
P.
P.S. I’ll pick you up.
Subject: NOT Official Work Business
Changing the subject to official work business does not make it so.
Emmaline.
P.S. You don’t have the details required to pick me up.
Grabbing the receiver of his office phone, he jabbed at the number for her desk extension. She answered on the fourth ring, which irritated him since he knew she was sitting right there.
“Wentworth Human Resources department, Emmaline speaking,” her voice sparkled through the phone line.
“I know you’re at your desk. Were you making me wait on purpose?”
Pause. “Someone needs to teach you that you’re not always at the top of everyone’s to-do list.”
“There’d better not be anyone else at the top of your to-do list,” he said through gritted teeth. “I don’t like sharing.”
“Sharing implies ownership,” she said. “Something you don’t have.”
Lord, the back and forth was like catnip. He wanted to best her, wanted to have the last word, the final say. Then he wanted to take her back to his bed and give her everything she’d ever wanted.
“Are you rejecting my invitation to dinner?”
A low, throaty chuckle sent shivers down his spine. “An invitation would mean you’d asked me a question. Why don’t you ask me, Parker?”
“Would you like to accompany me to dinner tonight?” he asked smoothly. If she wanted to see him ruffled it wasn’t going to happen. “I’d very much enjoy the pleasure of your company.”
“How about I cook?” Her voice dipped as though she were trying to prevent people around her from hearing. “It will be a little more…private.”
“I like private.” From the feel of it, his cock liked the sound of that, too. He was hard as a rock, and all she’d offered him was a meal.
“And I like wine. Shiraz or a pinot noir.”
The second he hung up the phone, an email came through with her address and a request that he come at eight thirty instead of eight. Her way of asserting some control over the situation, he guessed.
Anticipation thrummed in his blood. Something told him that tonight would be incredible. This wasn’t usually how he felt about a second or third date. Possibly because he never made it that far. But Emmaline was different—she made him different.
And for once, he wasn’t eager to move on the morning after.
Chapter Twelve
Parker pulled his Audi up to Emmaline’s house. The two-story building had a quaint feel and was trimmed with white fretwork that reminded him of lace. The street was lined with willowy trees, and even in the dark he could see how pretty it was.
Soft, gentle. Just like her.
He tightened his hands around the two bottles of wine he’d picked up along the way—one shiraz and one pinot noir—and got out of his car. He was an hour late and normally that wouldn’t bother him. After all, work was his first priority. His only priority. But knowing that he’d kept her waiting made a nervous energy jangle inside him. Why on earth did he feel like a teenager on his first date?
“Because you’re out of dating practice,” he muttered to himself. “Which is a good thing.”
Except now he was at risk of veering into unfamiliar territory. Having a meal together before sex? Check. Bringing her favorite wine? Double check. Spending the afternoon counting down the hours until he could see her?
Danger, Will Robinson.
A light flicked on close to the door, and it swung open before he’d had the chance to knock. She caught him off guard, his mind still whirring around the boundaries of whatever it was that they were doing. Of the labels they might apply.
“Well, hello there, Mr. Boss Man,” she said in a voice that was borderline purr. She leaned against the doorframe, a short black dress exposing her long legs, and a generous V at her chest. Her arms were covered, which somehow made it sexier.
And she’s wearing those fucking shoes again.
“That dress has got to be illegal,” he said, hoping to hell she couldn’t see how he’d gone stiff like a horny teenager with no control over his body. He casually held the wine bottles in front of him.
“In at least three states.” She winked. “Are you going to come in?”
“I need an invitation.” He hovered on the path that was lined with bushes of fragrant jasmine. The scent was heady, sensual. Or was that just her wicked smile doing crazy things to him?
“Like a vampire?” She laughed and held the door open. “You can come in if you don’t bite.”
“Oh, I’ll bite.” He stepped closer and she didn’t move to let him in, so he pressed her against the doorframe. Smoothing his hand over her hip, he leaned forward until their foreheads touched. “And you’ll like it.”
“Yes,” she breathed. “I will.”
The words traveled up his spine, tightening the coil of arousal deep inside him. Flooding him with need. “So invite me in.”
“Please, Parker.” Her voice was husky, painted with the same excitement that flushed her cheeks. “Do come in.”
“For you,” he said as he handed her the wine.
“Shiraz and a pinot.” She motioned for him to follow her inside. “There you go with that overachieving thing again.”
“Does that mean I get another gold star?”
A tinkling laugh filled the air as she put the bottles onto the perfectly laid out table. White linen napkins, matching silverware, a fresh vase of flowers. She’d gone to some effort.
“Only if you behave yourself.”
“Not much chance of that.”
He watched as she walked to the kitchen, her hips swaying with each step. The dress hugged her pert behind and skimmed the tops of her thighs. Long gold hair hung down her back, and the memory of his hands tangling in the silky lengths shot through him like a bullet.
Being near her was enough to make him forget his own name.
“What’s on the menu?” he asked.
“We’ve got a lamb ragout pasta with a salad for dinner and apple pie for dessert,” she said, carrying two steaming bowls to the table. “Well, for first dessert anyway.”
“And second dessert?” The wine glugged as he poured it.
“I’m thinking a shower followed by the bed and follow that up with the couch.”
He handed her a glass, and they clinked them together. “I’m quite partial to the table, myself.”
“Or if we’re extra hungry there’s a bench out back.”
The th
ought of taking her under the moonlight, cool air sweeping over their heated bodies, cranked his excitement up. “I have a big appetite.”
“That’s why I made extras.”
He forced himself to act like he still had some manners left—to take a sip of his wine, eat the food she’d prepared, and not think about sex. “This is really delicious.” He speared a piece of lamb with his fork. “You’re a good cook.”
“Thanks.” Her smile became tight. Brittle.
“I wish I had more time for it, but it’s impossible with the hours I work.” Well, with the hours he used to work—since Emmaline had come into his life he found himself more eager than usual to leave the office.
“It’s all I did while I was married,” she said, the sparkle disappearing from her eyes. “My ex only ever wanted me to cook, clean, and shop. Talk about mind-numbing.”
“You deserve better than that.” The words didn’t surprise him as much as the strong sense of passion in his tone—and not the kind of passion that made him want to sweep the table clean and lay her down, either. It was something else, something deeper.
“I do. Took me a while to see it for myself, though.” She smiled. “That’s why I was so excited to apply to the ASTAR program. For once in my life I feel like I’m able to use my skills for more than being someone’s sidekick.”
“If you want into that program, Emmaline, I’ll make it happen.” He speared a piece of pasta. “Your summary of the engagement report tells me all I need to know. You’re top talent.”
A strange expression crossed over her face. “Do you pick the winners?”
“It’s a panel selection. The CEO in conjunction with the executive team. But the CEO has final say.” He shrugged. “As it is with most things.”
“Right.” She nodded. “Well, I wouldn’t want to use my relationship with you for personal gain.”
A cold lump settled in his gut. The way she said it made him think of his decision to have Mark shipped off to the regional offices—wasn’t that exactly the kind of thing she was disavowing now? He shrugged off the thought. Emmaline would never find out. And it wasn’t like he was hurting the guy. He was eliminating his competition.
Taken by the CEO (The Scandalous Wentworths) Page 11
