Fortune's Perfect Valentine

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Fortune's Perfect Valentine Page 10

by Stella Bagwell


  Vivian blushed, then shook her head. “I merely meant being competitive in general. But now that you’ve brought it up, I might as well tell you that I heard through the office grapevine that you were on the outs with your brother. Actually, I heard you were angry with him because he landed the job.”

  The corners of his mouth turned downward, and a part of Vivian wished she’d not said anything about Ben or the COO position. Now that she’d learned Wes could laugh and smile, she wanted to see that charming side of him, not the harried businessman who often worked himself to the point of exhaustion.

  “Who’s been talking that nonsense to you? Adelle?”

  “Are you kidding? Adelle is your staunch supporter. She’d never utter anything personal about you to me. No, I inadvertently overheard a conversation going on between some of the other employees.”

  With a frown still marring his forehead, he said, “Well, it’s not true. I wasn’t angry with Ben. He didn’t appoint himself to the position. Our father made the decision to do that.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m not sure you do. Ben is ambitious, but that’s hardly a crime. I’m driven, too. Only in a different way. I wanted that position all right, but I can survive without it. I wouldn’t want to live without my twin. Understand?”

  She smiled. “I do. And you know what I think about it?”

  “I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

  “You’re too good at what you do to be working in any other position than the one you’re in now.”

  “Should I take that as a compliment?” he asked.

  She laughed softly. “You’d better. It might be the only one you get out of me.”

  *

  By now the little kitchen was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Wes thoughtfully watched Vivian as she left the table and began to gather cups, cream and sugar.

  “I have chocolate chip cookies if you’d like some,” she offered.

  “No, thanks. I’m still full of wedding cake.”

  “So am I,” she told him. “It wasn’t enough for me to eat a piece of wedding cake. I had to have a piece of the groom’s cake, too.”

  He didn’t know what had made him accept Vivian’s invitation for coffee. After the wild feelings he’d been having on the dance floor, the last thing he needed to be doing was spending private time with the woman. But as he’d turned to leave, something about the way she’d looked standing there on the little porch had been his undoing. Now here he was once again wondering how he was going to find the self-discipline to keep his hands off her.

  She placed everything on a tray and walked over to the table, where he still sat. “Let’s take our coffee to the living room,” she suggested. “It’s much more comfortable there.”

  “Fine. I’ll get my jacket and you lead the way.”

  Wes followed her out to the living room, and after tossing the tuxedo jacket over the back of a couch covered in brown suede fabric, he took a seat on an end cushion.

  Vivian placed the tray on the coffee table. She joined him on the couch, then reached for the television remote.

  “It’s nearly time for the local evening news,” she said. “Maybe we’ll hear something about the app during the business segment.”

  Grateful for the distraction, Wes picked up one of the cups and settled back against the cushions. “Or the entertainment portion.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Entertainment? Is that how you view the app? Entertainment?”

  “Well, that is what dating is supposed to be, isn’t it?”

  She opened her mouth to make some sort of retort, then appeared to change her mind. As she poured a measure of cream into her coffee, she said, “I suppose it is entertainment to you.”

  The screen flickered to life, and Vivian scrolled through the channels until she found a local affiliate. Wes did his best to focus on the television instead of the woman sitting less than a foot away from him. But that was difficult to do with her delicate perfume drifting to his nostrils and the rustle of her red dress signaling every tiny move she made.

  “Did you notice whether any of the media followed us to the wedding today?” she asked.

  He grimaced. “I didn’t notice any. But with all the people around, there was no way of knowing. Anyone with a cell phone can take photos and videos.”

  “Hopefully they didn’t. The public expects us to be going out with people from the app.”

  “That’s one of the reasons I invited you to attend the wedding with me. Everyone knows we’re just coworkers.”

  He’d hardly gotten the words out of his mouth when a video shot of the wedding appeared on the screen.

  “Look, Wes! There we are, heading into the church!”

  She snatched up the remote and made the volume louder just in time to pick up the anchor in midsentence.

  “…Robinson Tech. Austin’s most eligible bachelor is off the market. As for his twin brother, Wes, everyone is wondering who the mystery woman is hanging on to his arm. Since the tech wonder boy made the announcement he’d be using the company’s own dating app to find his lady love, we’re all speculating if this is the special one. Who—”

  Wes quickly plucked the remote from her hand and pressed the mute button.

  *

  Vivian gasped. “Why did you do that? That was about you! Us!”

  He shot her a droll look. “That social crap is silly. The media doesn’t really know what’s going on, but they damn well like to put stories out there anyway.”

  Her features tight, she sipped her coffee, then fixed a stare on the TV screen. “Sorry. I misspoke. There is no us. Not in the sense they were using it.”

  Something was bothering her, Wes decided, but he couldn’t put his finger on the problem. Could be she’d picked up on all those lustful urges he’d gotten while they were dancing, he thought, and now being alone with him made her feel awkward.

  Hell, Wes, if she’d felt that uncomfortable, why did she invite you in? When it comes to women and how they think, you’re totally ignorant. You’re a tech geek. Don’t make the mistake of trying to think like a lover boy. You’re not even close to being one of those.

  Annoyed at the mocking voice in his head, he handed the remote back to her. “I’m the one who’s sorry, Viv,” he apologized. “This is your house and your television. I had no right to turn off the sound. I just—don’t like my life being made public. But that’s probably hard for you to understand.”

  She said, “You’re right. I’m not rich and famous like you are. I don’t know what it’s like to be in the public eye. Furthermore, I’ll never know.”

  While she scrolled through more channels, Wes sipped his coffee and hoped the hot brew would jerk his senses back to reality. Presently, his brain seemed to be drowning in her presence, and he didn’t know how to keep his sanity afloat.

  “Be thankful for that, Viv. As kids, we Robinsons couldn’t go anywhere in public without a bodyguard lurking nearby. Talk about putting a damper on things. It could get miserable. But Dad couldn’t risk any of us being kidnapped and held for ransom. It’s only been since we’ve gotten older that he’s eased up and let us go about our lives on our own.”

  She looked amazed. “I thought something like that only happened in the movies. Or in families with members in high political offices. Gerald must be paranoid.”

  “My family has always had the kind of wealth that evil people like to go after.” He gestured around the neat living room. “I can’t live like you do.”

  She laughed. “You mean, you don’t want to live like this.”

  He shook his head. “Luxury, or the lack of it, is not what I’m talking about. Security is always an issue.”

  “Oh. I wasn’t thinking in those terms.” She smiled, then added jokingly, “But I did lock the door behind us.”

  She placed the remote on the coffee table, and Wes noticed she’d left the sound on mute. The notion that she might consider his company more interesting than the t
elevision swelled his ego in a way he never expected.

  “I’ll bet you’ve never visited a place like mine before.”

  Surprised, he frowned at her. “I’m not a snob, Viv. I have friends and acquaintances from all walks of life.”

  Turning toward him, she tucked her legs beneath her. “Tell me what your home looks like. Do you live there alone?”

  “I live on a private estate on the northwest side of the city.”

  “Where all the mansions are located,” she said pointedly.

  “Should I apologize for that?”

  Another soft laugh escaped her lips, and Wes found himself drinking in the happy sound, the vibrant twinkle in her hazel eyes and the way her teeth gleamed white against her lips.

  “No. If living there makes you happy, that’s what you should do.”

  “I don’t know about happy. I live there alone. With a housekeeper coming in every other day to tidy up. There are two stories to the house, but I mainly just use the bottom floor. The folks who owned it before me had several kids, so they needed all the upstairs bedrooms.”

  “Is it an old estate?”

  “Originally, an oil magnate had the place built shortly after World War I. I think he and his wife came to the city thinking he could get into politics. But that never happened. In any case, the outside is made of native rock and the inside has open ceilings, parquet floors and varnished moldings.”

  “It sounds lovely,” she murmured.

  Had she leaned closer to him or had he scooted toward her? Wes wondered. Either way, her face suddenly seemed much closer to his. So close, in fact, that he could see the gold and green flecks in her eyes, the rim of her black lashes and the faint vertical lines in her lower lip.

  How would that lip taste if he ran his tongue over the soft edges? If he gently sank his teeth into the plump curve?

  “Maybe I could show it to you sometime,” he said, his voice low and thick.

  The cup in his hand suddenly felt so heavy, he wondered if it was full of lead instead of coffee. He leaned forward to place it on the table at the very same moment Vivian chose to do the same thing. The two cups collided, and their fingers tangled as they both made desperate grabs to keep them from falling to the floor.

  “Oh! Sorry,” she exclaimed. She juggled the cup until she finally managed to set it safely back on the tray.

  “It’s my fault.” In a rush to place his cup alongside hers, he very nearly tipped it over before he finally secured in an upright position. “I don’t think I spilled any on the floor. But I’m not certain.”

  “I’m not worried about the floor. What about your trousers?”

  He bent forward to inspect the legs of his trousers. When he failed to see any damp spots staining the black fabric, he raised his head and smacked it straight into Vivian’s chin.

  “Viv! Oh, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

  He grabbed her shoulders, more to steady her than anything. At the same time, her hands thrust outward in search of an anchor and ended up landing in the middle of his chest. The sudden contact was like a searing jolt of electricity welding them together. He could hardly breathe, much less find the strength to pull back.

  “No. It was just a little bump. No problem—I’m fine.”

  Her last words were little more than a whisper, but they were enough to beckon Wes to lean his head closer to hers.

  “Better let me take a look.” Placing a forefinger beneath her chin, he lifted her face. The quick inspection ended with his gaze zeroing in on her moist lips, and the sight brought on a gnawing hunger deep inside him. “I don’t see a cut—or anything. I—”

  Whatever else he’d been about to say was instantly blotted out as somehow, someway, Vivian’s lips found their way to his. Or had he been the one to close the last fraction of space between them? Either way, it didn’t matter. The only thing that did matter was that he was kissing her. And she tasted like heaven.

  Chapter Seven

  Vivian had no idea how she’d ended up in Wes’s arms or how her lips had gotten tangled up with his. But now that their mouths were fused together, her brain was on a single mission, and that was to get closer to the man. And to make sure he couldn’t slip away, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her upper body to his broad chest.

  The masculine scent of his skin mingled with the expensive cologne on his shirt. Together, the erotic mixture filled her head and lured her senses, while the taste of his lips was like nothing she’d expected. Dark and reckless and commanding, his kiss was pushing her to a mindless daze where there was nothing but the two of them. Kissing. Touching. Loving.

  Eventually the wild pleasure began to consume her, and a low groan erupted deep in her throat. The sound shattered the silence of the room, and suddenly Wes jerked his head away from hers and stared at her in stunned fascination.

  Her face burning, her lips stinging, Vivian sucked oxygen into her lungs and gazed into his drowsy blue eyes. From where she sat, he appeared to be equally shocked by what had just occurred between them.

  “Wes, I—”

  He didn’t wait for her to finish. Instead, the hands he’d already clamped over her shoulders jerked her back to him, and his mouth fastened hungrily over hers.

  This time Vivian didn’t hesitate to open her lips and invite him to take the kiss to a deeper, sweeter place. He promptly accepted her bidding by thrusting his tongue between the ridges of her teeth. As he explored the walls of her mouth, his hands pushed their way down her back until he reached the flare of her hips.

  When his palms cupped her bottom, she uncurled her legs and stretched toward him. She needed to feel the length of his body touching her, warming every feminine cell inside her until she was burning, craving the pleasure he could give her.

  He must have been feeling the same hot desperation because the next thing Vivian knew, she was toppling over and he was falling with her. The short tumble was enough to break the contact of their lips, and he used the moment to shift both of them around on the cushions until they were lying face to face, hip to hip. The contact was incredibly intimate, and immediately an aching desire began to build low in her belly.

  The search of his mouth on hers was delicious and unrelenting, and the only thought going through Vivian’s head was that she couldn’t get enough of it. Or him. And when she felt his fingers caressing the cleavage exposed by the low neckline of her dress, she wanted to slither quickly out of the garment. She wanted his hands to touch every inch of her skin. She wanted his tongue to taste every hollow and curve.

  Then, just as she was slipping away to a dreamy fog of paradise, Wes jerked away from her and hastily scrambled to his feet.

  Recognizing the hem of her dress was hiked up around her hips, Vivian jerked the fabric past her knees. Standing a few steps away, Wes jammed the tail of his shirt back into the waistband of his trousers, then raked a hand through his rumpled hair.

  Totally confused, she pushed a question through her tight throat. “Wes, what’s wrong?”

  Without glancing her way, he snatched the jacket from the back of the couch and jammed his arms into the sleeves. “I’m sorry,” he said in a breathless rush. “I shouldn’t have—I’m sorry.”

  Still drunk with desire, Vivian tried to make sense of his behavior, but before she could assemble a second coherent question, he was rushing toward the door.

  “Wes—”

  “Good night, Viv.”

  By now, Vivian was overwhelmed, and she watched in stunned silence as he closed the door behind him. Moments later, she heard the soft hum of his car as it backed from the driveway, and the sound put a cold, hard period at the end of the evening.

  Talk about a fast getaway, she thought dismally. Wes had just pulled the fastest one she’d ever seen. Why? She could have sworn she’d felt genuine desire in his kiss, an urgency in the way his hands had roamed over her body. But something had caused him to put a swift end to it all.

  He raced out of here because he
came to his senses and realized exactly who he was kissing—a lowly employee.

  Shoving away the hurtful voice in her head, she went to the door and secured the locks, then collected the tray from the coffee table and carried it to the kitchen.

  So much for the ending of a fairy tale day.

  *

  Adelle bent over Wes’s right shoulder and placed a stack of bound papers in front of him. “Here are the data sheets you wanted.”

  “Thanks for all your trouble, Adelle.”

  The secretary skirted the desk and stood in front of him. “That’s what you pay me for, Mr. Robinson. But I am wondering what’s going on with you. This information is already posted on your computer. What’s up? Finally getting tired of staring at a screen all day?”

  “Sometimes a man just needs to be able to hold things in his hands.” Like a soft, womanly body with a wide, sweet mouth, Wes thought.

  He shook his head to rid himself of Vivian’s image and quickly wished he hadn’t. In spite of the aspirin he’d taken before coming to work this morning, the ache behind his eyes wasn’t going away.

  “Look who’s talking about putting things on paper,” he muttered. “You’re still living in the Stone Age, Adelle. And if I was a good boss, I’d either make you do things by a normal method, or I’d fire you.”

  Not the least bit concerned about his threat, she let out a short laugh. “Normal, bah—there is no normal nowadays. Besides, we both know you couldn’t do without me. I’m like a long-suffering wife who’s never appreciated for the sacrifices she makes for her husband.”

  Wes groaned. “Please, Adelle, I don’t want to hear anything about wives or husbands. Not today.”

  Her sardonic expression turned curious. “What’s the matter? Too much wedding for you over the weekend?”

  Leaning back in the leather chair, he pulled off his glasses and rubbed his burning eyelids. “Too much champagne and flowers and sappy romance. It’s all a big show for nothing. Do you know how many couples get divorced after only one year or two of marriage? Why bother with a wedding? Why not just jump in the sack for a few months, then when the glow wears off, go your separate ways? Makes more sense to me.”

 

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