“They’re both interested in you,” Jane said slowly, as if speaking to the very stupid. “And you’re interested in both of them.”
“What? No.”
“Okay, I’ve worked with you for two years. I remember when you were going out with Mark and you thought he was The One and you were going to end up in the suburbs together, and I remember James, too, and how the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”
“Mmm.” I smiled dreamily. James and I hadn’t been very compatible, but he’d been the perfect rebound guy from staid, stuffy, manipulative Mark, who wanted me to lose weight but not, apparently, to be sexy so that other people noticed. James and I, at least, had ended on good terms—and every once in a while when we weren’t seeing anyone, we met up for drinks. “Wait, what’s your point, though?”
“My point is, I’ve seen you when you were picturing the future with someone, and I’ve seen you when you had chemistry with someone, and these guys? Have both things going for them.”
“Which guy?”
“That’s what I’m telling you: both of them.” She raised her eyebrows. “So what’re you going to do?”
“Okay, first of all…” I pointed a chopstick at her. “You are way off. I don’t feel that way about them.”
“Uh-huh.” She took a big bite of her sandwich and gave me a look that said she didn’t believe me in the slightest.
“I don’t!”
“Sure, okay. Well, you haven’t had a date in two months anyway. Isn’t that reason enough to go out for a fun time? I mean, you’re laughing and joking with them, it’s not like you’d have a bad time.”
“That’s the other thing. They’re not interested in me.”
“You’re wrong.” Jane picked the tomato out of her sandwich and took another bite.
“No, I’m not. Rich guys don’t go for women like me.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Jane, look at me.”
“What?” Jane complied. Then she put down her sandwich and took a deep breath. “April, please don’t tell me people are getting to you.”
“No one’s getting to me. I’m perfectly happy with how I look.” I stabbed at another piece of sushi moodily. “I’m just being realistic.”
“No, you aren’t.” She reached out to touch my hand lightly. “Before I met you, do you know what kind of underwear I wore?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Just listen.” Jane wiped her hands on her napkin and looked away. “I bought in, April. All of my underwear was this cheap ugly stuff that I hated. And I bought it because I hated me. I got up and looked in the mirror and all I could see was that extra pound here, that extra pound there. I was buying in, I didn’t think I had any worth unless I could be someone else’s idea of perfect. And now I know you. April, you’re one of the strongest, most self-assured, wonderful, gorgeous women I know. You taught me that it was okay to wear pretty clothes and fancy underwear because I wanted to and it made me happy. And it really hurts to see that you’re doubting yourself now, because you’re the one who taught me that it’s not about that. You can tell me it’s just realistic, but the fact is, until you think you can get what you actually want, you’re still letting the rest of those jerks get to you.”
I stared at her, dumbfounded. This was about the most words I had ever heard Jane say at one time. When had it all turned out, and she’d become the wise one and I’d become the timid one? I grimaced down at the table.
“You want them, don’t you?” Jane asked.
“Yeah,” I said morosely.
“And they both like you. I’m telling you, it’s true. So you can fall back on some tired old stereotype that no one’s ever going to love you for you, or you can accept what you’re seeing and go for what will make you happy.” She bit her lip and gave me a smile that was just the tiniest bit wicked. “I mean, come on, you’re choosing between two gorgeous billionaires. Live the fantasy, April. Take it while it’s here.”
I laughed.
“I don’t want to choose, though.”
“What?” her eyes widened.
What had I meant by that? It just came out. I shrugged.
“Messy conversations, blah blah blah.”
“Okay, so go on dates with both of them. They don’t have to know.”
“How many beers have you had?”
“Just the one.”
I laughed, and heard my phone buzz. This dinner had been just what I needed after the past couple of days. Pulling my phone out, I raised my eyebrows.
“What?” Jane asked me.
“It’s not a big deal, there’s just that meeting tomorrow and Dave wants the documents for it. I need to go run them over.”
“And have a date while you’re there,” Jane said, pointing a fry at me. “Go on, I’ll get this.” She pulled out her checkbook and grinned.
“It’s not a date,” I said severely. “And thank you.”
“Anytime. Remember, I want details!”
“I’ll be sure to tell you just how his face looked when I handed over the profit estimates.” I grinned and headed out, slinging my bag over my shoulder.
Could Jane possibly be right? I could see men—and a few women—looking admiringly at my dress and my heels. And me. Had I really come so far, gotten so comfortable with myself, only to deny myself the one thing I really, truly wanted? I was freaking gorgeous, and I told myself that I believed that.
But what if I didn’t?
That seemed like a question to ponder with a bottle of wine and a bubble bath later. I filed that away and checked to make sure I had all the documents, then texted Dave.
In the lobby.
The reply came back at once: Room 2536.
I punched the button and waited as the elevator ascended, making my ears pop. I should have expected that Dave would be working this late. He was the young prodigy, after all. Maybe that was part of why Nathaniel hated him so much—carefree Dave who openly admitted that he liked hang gliding and expensive dinners more than work. Something to consider. I knocked on the door to Dave’s room…
…and felt my mouth fall open as I looked inside.
It was absolutely filled with candles, glittering softly in the dim light. I could see roses in vases all around, and their smell was intoxicating. A bottle of champagne was on ice, and Dave’s smile, as he looked at me, was bright with unexpected mischief.
“Uh…” I was still holding the documents. “So when you said you needed these…”
“I was not lying,” he said, grinning. “I really did. But…I admit I also wanted to see you.” He stepped back from the door, hands up. “You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to. No obligations.”
That, of all things, was what decided me…or at least gave me the courage to step over the threshold. I looked around myself, smiling without any volition at all.
“What is this about?”
“What do you mean?” Dave poured a flute of champagne and held it out. “I fell for you the first time I saw you. I’m only in town for a few days, but I wanted to see you outside the office.”
“And you’re sure you’re not just trying to get back at Mr. Bryan for taking me to coffee this morning?”
“I admit that I was certainly motivated to outdo him.” He raised his own glass and took a sip. “But this isn’t about him. It’s about you.”
“Me.” I looked down into my glass. I could hear Jane’s words in my head and I realized she was absolutely, entirely correct—I didn’t need a bubble bath and a bottle of wine to see the truth. “How could it be me? How does a man who worked his way up the corporate ladder by 26 want me?”
“Simple.” He was suddenly very close, and I forgot how to breathe. Every part of my body seemed to be on fire, and I was drowning in those dark blue eyes. “You’re mischievous, you’re passionate, and you’re smart. You’re everything I have looked for in a woman, and you’re sexy as hell on top of it. Ms. Thornton…”
“April,” I whispered before I could stop myself.
“April. The more I learn about you, the more I want you.”
His lips hovered close to mine for a moment and I was frozen, entirely unable to move. I couldn’t have walked away if the fire alarms had started going off. I was weak at the knees with how much I wanted him, and when his lips came down on mine, I would have fallen over if it weren’t for his arm around my waist.
Chapter Four
The kiss deepened, and I felt my lips part beneath his. That soft moan could only have been mine, and he groaned against my mouth as his arm tightened. His fingers were tangling in my hair and both of our champagne glasses had dropped to the ground. I stood on tip toe to press closer to him, our lips moving urgently, my fingers on the buttons of his shirt.
We tumbled onto the bed and I was pleased, after a moment of fear, that he’d had the sense not to strew the bed with roses. One experience with thorns was enough for a lifetime, and I felt myself laugh, wondering if he’d had the same one. The laugh died quickly enough. His fingers slid up along my thigh, pushing my skirt up as his hips pressed against mine.
“Your skin is so soft.”
And his fingers were just the slightest bit rough. I moaned again and let my head drop back as a thrust of his hips sent pleasure shivering through me. Our legs were tangled together, his lips at my throat, and I wanted absolutely everything, from this fairytale room to the pleasure his fingers were promising. Tomorrow—
It was like someone had poured ice water on me. I opened my eyes with a gasp. Tomorrow. Oh, God, tomorrow. Tomorrow when I’d be at the office with the two men I was supposed to be keeping apart, and all those tensions I was supposed to be diffusing. And I would have slept with one of them.
“What’s wrong?” Dave looked at the bed. “Rose thorn? I thought it was all petals.”
“No, no.” I managed a little bit of a laugh, but sobered quickly enough. “I, uh…I’m so sorry. I can’t do this.”
In my head, I could hear Jane screaming at me not to be stupid.
Dave frowned.
“Are you…I don’t understand.” He looked at my left hand.
“No boyfriend, no husband.” I waved my hands.
“Then what is it?” He reached out for my hand. “April, if I pressured you…” He shook his head. “I thought you wanted this.”
“I did! I do.” I yanked my hand back from his—his touch made me want to slide into his arms—and I made for the door. If I didn’t leave now, the wrong things were going to happen. “Look, if this was any other time, I would be…this would be… It’s perfect. It really is. But I’m Mr. Jeffries’s secretary, and you’re, well, you, and I just—I can’t.”
“Please don’t go.” His eyes were sad. “Jeffries doesn’t own you, April. If you want me, and I want you—and I do—“
“I can’t,” I said desperately. I was out the door and running down the hallway the next minute, praying he wouldn’t come after me. I knew some part of me wanted him to call after me, even though the same thought made me desperately afraid. We couldn’t do this. We couldn’t. And he must have understood that—or at least, respected my wishes—because he didn’t come after me.
And that was good, I told myself firmly as I left the elevator. Because that fairytale thing where the man chased after the woman and promised that he’d make all of the problems disappear could only possibly work in fairytales. The ability to make all the world’s problems go away was magic. We couldn’t do that. Not in real life.
“April?”
I whirled, my cheeks flaming.
“Hey. Hi. How are you—what are you—”
“Are you okay?” Nathaniel asked me, frowning. He looked genuinely worried.
“Yeah. Totally fine.” Except I felt like I was wearing a neon sign over my head that said, “I was just kissing one of the shareholders.” He couldn’t see it, could he?
“You look really flustered.” He looked over at the near-empty bar and jerked his head slightly. “Can I buy you a drink?”
No, my mind insisted, while Jane’s imagined voice howled, for the love of God, yes!
This time, Jane won.
“Sure,” I heard myself say.
Oops.
“Martini?” he asked me when we’d taken our seats. “Champagne? Scotch?”
“I don’t even know.”
“Hmm. Are you sure you’re all right?” But he leaned over the bar. “Two Hennessy’s.”
“What’s Hennessy?”
“Cognac,” he said, with a grin.
“Schmancy,” I said, before I thought. I really needed someone to stop me from talking. Luckily, he only laughed.
“Brandy and cognac,” he informed me as he handed me a glass, “were once used to settle nerves. Probably because they have the kick of a midsize horse. Cheers.”
“Cheers.” I smiled. It was impossible not to. Nathaniel had such infectious good humor.
“So…I’m getting signals that you don’t want to talk about what’s bothering you.”
“Nope,” I said instantly. I took a sip to emphasize the fact that I wasn’t talking, and promptly choked. Dave hadn’t been kidding about the kick.
“Sip. Pretend you’re an English baron with a cigar and a country house, and you have not a care in the world.”
“Wow.” I looked into the glass. “Is that what you do when you drink this?”
“I don’t know about anyone else,” he admitted, “but between you and me? Yeah, I do. Is that just too adolescent?”
“Actually, I think it’s charming. For New Year’s Eve last year, all the secretaries got wine and put this stuff in it to look like gold flakes, and pretended we were ancient royalty. I mean, that was after several bottles of champagne. But still.”
“Can I just say how much I appreciate this?” Dave took a sip and smiled at me. “I dread coming to New York. I hear it’s this vibrant center of culture, but I never see that. It always seems sad to me, everyone in their suits and developing ulcers.”
“I’ll have to show you around sometime. New York is…so much more than that. Not that there aren’t a lot of serious people,” I added. I took another cautious sip. This stuff was growing on me—still, I wished I’d had more than a small order of sushi for lunch. “But there’s a lot else.”
“Like what?” He leaned on the bar and tilted his head as he watched me. “What would you show me?”
His voice was a few shades too intimate, but the brandy was mixing in my blood with the desire of the past half hour, and I felt reckless all of a sudden.
“Well, you aren’t a New Yorker until you’ve ordered takeout food at two in the morning from somewhere. But it’s a long day to get there. You want to wander through the streets and grab a bagel somewhere, listen to the musicians on the corners. There are some awesome museums, and it can even be fun to go down to the docks and watch the ships come in, even though it smells awful. There’s anything you could possibly want to eat for lunch, and the Met, and plays, and…”
“So this is a place of…” He searched for the word. “Possibility. That’s how you see it.”
“Exactly, yes. Possibility.”
“And it doesn’t wear you out? This constant grind and hustle?”
“Sometimes. But that’s why you have friends. It’s better than where I grew up, at least for me. It’s hard in New York, but no one’s actually watching you. That’s always what I remind myself at work. At home I was the Thornton's chubby daughter and everyone watched me and made comments about me and here… I can be anyone I want. I bought my first dress here, my first pair of heels, and the first time I wore them out of my apartment, three guys whistled at me. It was like a whole new world—people see you if you’re what they’re looking for, and otherwise they’re too focused on their goals to mind either way.”
My voice trailed away and I blinked. Had I actually just confessed all of that? I never told people this. I never mentioned all the stupid,
hurtful comments from home. When I looked over, Nathaniel’s brows were drawn together.
“I don’t get that,” he said.
“You don’t have to get it, I just—”
“No, I mean, what you experienced where you grew up. April, how is it possible to see you and not want to be closer to you? You’re the sort of person who makes people laugh. You have this smile that just lights up a room, and you’re telling me that these people only saw one thing that doesn’t even matter?” His voice was frustrated. “I may not really like this city, but if New York was what it took for you to realize your worth, then I will offer a toast to that.”
I clinked glasses, feeling a wave of warmth.
“You know,” Nathaniel said quietly. “I was actually hoping to run into you tonight.”
“Oh? Why?” Suffused with relief, I didn’t think to question it.
“Because if I didn’t run into you naturally someplace with a bar, I was going to have to actually ask you out, and I’m kind of a huge coward about that.” He flashed a sheepish smile my direction.
“Oh, wow,” I said faintly. I was going to have to buy Jane a bottle of wine. She’d actually been right about this. “Oh, wow. Nathaniel, I am so sorry.”
“Damn,” he said morosely. “No, it’s fine, you don’t need to explain.”
“It’s not that.” I pushed aside the whiskey and took his hand. “Mr. Bryan—”
“Nathaniel.”
“Nathaniel. Look, if you weren’t who you are, and I wasn’t who I am, things would be so different. This isn’t about you, or me—it’s just how things are. I can’t complicate what’s going on with this board meeting coming up. Believe me, I really, really wish I could. But I can’t.”
The version of Jane who lived in my head was not impressed.
“Who says you can’t?” He leaned close, so close I could feel his breath and shiver in the warmth of it. “I want you. You want me.”
“I…” Our lips were so close that I could feel the warmth of him. “I have to go.” I grabbed my purse and fairly ran. Tonight was one part amazing, one part pure awful. Why did I want gorgeous men I couldn’t have?
Billionaire In Vegas Page 49
