Love On My Mind

by Tracey Livesay

  His gaze was steady. “More than want. I need your help.”

  She nodded and turned away.

  “But I also need to understand what’s happening between us.”

  His words stopped her, an invisible verbal leash.

  “You shouldn’t be concerned about us. The Computronix launch is in a week.”

  “You think I’ve forgotten?” He closed in on her, his tone urgent. “This presentation means more to me than you could possibly comprehend. But when I spend as much time recalling the feel of your lips pressed against mine as I do rechecking code, there’s a problem.”

  Oh. She locked her knees to keep from sinking to the floor.

  His eyes blazed, their intensity hypnotic, refusing to allow her to look away. “I know what I should be doing, but until I can figure out what’s between us, I’ll continue to be distracted. Are we reacting to something real, or are we victims of circumstance?” He lowered his voice. “If you can’t be altruistic, be selfish. The sooner I can focus on my work again, the sooner we can get back to your lessons.”

  She wrapped an arm around her waist and rested the opposite elbow on it, tapping her fist against her mouth. None of this should be happening. How had she ended up here? It was ridiculous to even consider getting involved with this man. Her client. Someone she was lying to.

  Then why was she contemplating saying yes?

  “It’s only dinner,” he said, tilting his head.

  “I shouldn’t.” Stay strong, Chelsea. Do the right thing.

  He breached her personal space. “Do you want to?”

  He smelled incredible. So much for fortitude. She leaned her forehead against his chest. “I need some time.”

  “How about two hours? Our reservation is for eight thirty.”

  She shouldn’t entertain this notion. But she was. What was happening to her? Why was she willing to risk everything she’d worked for on a genius with the fate of the technological world on his broad shoulders?

  AS SOON AS she closed the front door of the Andersons’ home behind her, Chelsea brought up the favorites screen on her cell and pressed the first contact listed.

  “Were your ears tingling?” India asked. “I was just bragging to a ­couple of coworkers how I know someone who’s friends with Ellis York. I contend it makes me a friend by association.”

  Love and warmth flooded her at the sound of her foster sister’s voice. She dropped her purse on the table in the foyer. “I told you, we’re not friends. I worked with her a ­couple of years ago.”

  “She’s in that new big-­budget drama movie and that wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t thinned out her entourage and polished up her image. She should be begging you to be her bestie.”

  Chelsea laughed. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who holds that opinion. How’s work going? Have you gotten to the beach yet? The water is probably too cold for swimming, but you can wade in to your ankles.”

  “I know there are lakes nearby, but Nashville isn’t known for their beaches. I’ll have to check them out.”

  “Wait, Nashville? I thought you were working at that resort in Charleston?”

  “I was, until they reassigned me to their nursery. You know I don’t do kids and I wasn’t about to spend hours watching other ­people’s children when they’re either too lazy or too selfish to do it themselves.”

  The words were harsh but Chelsea knew they originated from pain. She’d been fortunate that her stint in the foster care system had only been eight months. For Indi, it’d been twelve years . . .

  “What made you choose Nashville? You’re not into country music.”

  “I didn’t plan on staying here. One of the girls from the resort is an aspiring singer and she’d saved up enough money to make a go of it. When she announced she was driving to Nashville, I caught a ride. I figured I’d hang out for a day or two and make my way down to Key West.”

  “That’s not an efficient travel route.”

  Indi continued as if Chelsea hadn’t spoken. “But one thing led to another and—­”

  “You’ve set up short term residence in the fifty-­ninth city in the past eight years.”

  “Stop exaggerating. It hasn’t been that many.”

  “Close to it.”

  “What can I say, I’m a citizen of the world. I’m not meant to be tied down.”

  Chelsea had called Indi seeking advice, but was filled with second thoughts hearing her so blithe and carefree. She spruced up her frustration with gaiety. “And my sympathy to the person who tries.”

  “You know me too well.” Indi paused. “As I know you. You sound odd. What’s up?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. You called me and your voice does sound weird. What’s going on?”

  Chelsea kicked off her shoes and strode over to the window in the great room. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the fingertips of her left hand to the cool glass and blurted out, “I’ve met someone.”

  Indi uttered a soft curse. “Is that all?” A rush of expelled air and then, “That’s nothing new. You’re always meeting someone. Who is he?”

  “It’s Adam Bennett.”

  “That name sounds familiar.”

  Chelsea rolled her eyes heavenward. “­People’s Sexiest Man Alive last year.”

  Indi shrieked and Chelsea pulled the phone away from her ear.

  “That Adam Bennett? He’s hot. You can see his intelligence and passion vibrating off of him. And those eyes.” She sighed. “Wait, wasn’t he involved with Birgitta?”

  “Yes.” Chelsea pictured the mono-­monikered leggy Scandinavian model with her trademark ice-­blond pixie cut and pale blue eyes. Another reason not to get involved with Adam. Who wanted to follow her?

  “How did you meet him?”

  “He’s the important client my promotion hinges on.”

  “Oh.” That one word carried weighty significance, and Chelsea knew Indi understood her dilemma.

  “I can’t get involved with him. It wouldn’t be professional.”

  “Oh, please. You’ve never let anything get in the way of your career. You’re one of the most professional ­people I’ve ever met. Jump his bones.”

  “Why am I not surprised? Not everyone believes in free love and living in the moment.”

  “They should. They’d be a hell of a lot happier. Besides, I’ve seen that man. He looks like a dark sex god. And you have the opportunity to be with him?”

  “I do.”

  “Then what’s the issue? Go for it. You’re not talking forever, right? Just a little fun?”

  “He made me an avatar.”

  “What?”

  “An avatar. Like in a video game.”

  “I know what avatars are. I’m surprised that you do.”

  “I know about video games.”

  “Dance Dance Revolution doesn’t count,” Indi said, snidely.

  “Very funny.” She left the window and settled into an oak rocking chair. She pulled one leg beneath her and used the other to set the rocker in motion. “He wanted me to play this game with him. One of those adventure games where you go on missions. He didn’t like the selection of avatars available, called it ‘narrow-­minded.’ So he hijacked it and made one that looked like me. Curly hair, skin tone, everything.”

  Silence hummed on the phone between them.

  “That has to be one of the most romantic things I’ve ever heard,” Indi finally said.

  “I know, right?”

  “So, you’re saying this might be more than just a little fun?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Where are you?”

  “In the mountains of Northern California.”

  “And you’re with him?”

  “For the most part.”

  “How long?�
��

  “A few weeks.”

  “Is he pressuring you?” she asked.

  “No. He’s not pressuring me. It’s the situation. I don’t have a lot of time to work with him, and he says he can’t focus until he knows what’s going on between us. He said I’m a distraction.”

  Indi whistled, then laughed. “That’s a line if I ever heard one.”

  Chelsea nodded, even though Indi couldn’t see her. “Normally I’d agree. But not with Adam. He means it. He doesn’t lie.”

  “Everyone lies.”

  Chelsea shifted in the chair, uneasily aware of her own deception. “I know it sounds naïve, but he doesn’t. He’s direct, sometimes to the point of rudeness.”

  “Since when are we attracted to men who are rude?”

  “This from the woman who took up with the French soccer player who abandoned her in Denmark?”

  “Well played, sir. But in my defense, he was sexy as hell.” Indi’s laugh trailed off and her tone took on a mantle of seriousness. “It’s been difficult for me to let ­people into my life. You’ve been the rare exception. And when I was being a special kind of brat, you told me we only get one life and we needed to live it with purpose and to the fullest. Now, while you probably intended for that advice to steer me toward law school, it changed my life. Be smart enough to heed your own counsel.”

  Tears burned Chelsea’s eyes. “I hear you.”

  “Good.” Indi cleared her throat. “You know your purple and light blue silk scarf? The one you wore to dinner the night I got to LA this last time? The one I really liked?”

  The one Chelsea suddenly realized she couldn’t remember finding when she packed.

  “Yesss,” she said, dragging the word out, confident she wasn’t going to be pleased by what Indi said next.

  “Yeah, well I borrowed it and I . . . uh, kind of forgot it when I left Charleston.”

  “Indi!”

  “I know, I know and I’m so sorry. I’ll replace it, I promise. Nashville has some awesome boutiques.”

  “Unless you want to avail yourself of some of LA’s hostel accommodations the next time you visit, you’d better.”

  Chelsea ended the call, but she continued to rock. Adam asked her to dinner. As a way to find out if there was actually something between them or if the events that brought them together was enhancing the effect. Despite the time crunch, it was a logical request. Especially if it turned out to be the latter. Then he could get back to work, she could get back to their lessons, and in a week she’d leave with everything she always wanted.

  But what if it was the former? What if there was something between them? How would they handle that knowledge? On a date? And with the fire heating his eyes, there was a chance the night might end with more than a handshake at the door, despite what he said. Was she ready for that? Once they took that step, there was no taking it back. And it would affect what she was here to do.

  But it was more than their working relationship. She was lying to him. If they acknowledged something was between them, did she have the strength to still push him away, not wanting to sleep with him under false pretenses? Questions tumbled around, like a mental lottery ball machine, making her head hurt from the numerous possibilities. It was so much for her to think about and she’d been thinking for so long. Calculating every move to get where she wanted to be. Where she needed to be. Suddenly, she wanted to let go of everything that tethered her in this world and follow him into his.

  She accessed her favorites screen again and pressed a contact listing.

  “Chelsea?”

  “Yes, Adam. I’d love to have dinner with you.”

  Chapter Twelve

  CHELSEA’S PROFESSIONAL AREAS of expertise were the entertainment and sports industries. She routinely found herself in meetings with men who were paid to look good and keep their bodies in peak condition.

  Considering that, the Adam Bennett that stood before her was the best-­looking man she’d ever seen. Sleek and powerful in a dark suit and royal blue crew neck sweater that she recognized from their shopping spree. His gleaming hair was swept back from his forehead and—­she gasped—­his jaw was clean-­shaven. Leaning against a late model black Range Rover, he stole her breath.

  She started down the steps of the house. “I see they delivered the clothes.”

  He pushed away from his car. “This morning, before you first arrived.”

  “And you picked this outfit yourself?”

  “I did.”

  When she reached the bottom she stopped, her clutch held tightly in her grasp. “I had hoped, but I have to admit, I wasn’t sure you’d do it.” At his blank stare, she clarified, “Wear any of the clothes outside of the presentation.”

  “I never cared about my attire before. Now I do.”

  “Why?”

  His stare scorched her. “Because you do.”

  Sparks of pleasure tingled in her chest, lending her buoyancy.

  He opened the passenger door for her. When she reached him he said, “You’re beautiful.”

  His low, smooth tone wound itself around her heart and squeezed. She smiled and stroked his smooth jaw before sinking into the butter-­soft leather seat. He closed the door and headed around the front of the car to get behind the wheel.

  Who was this man? She thought she’d had a handle on him and what she needed to do for her job. But she’d only scratched the surface. As tech savvy and nerdy as Adam had been when they’d first met, this Adam was assured, sexy, dangerous.

  On the dark mountain roads, he handled the car with an ease she found incredibly sensuous. His strong hands caressed the dark wood grain and leather steering wheel, his long, elegant fingers gripping the wheel as he skillfully executed the turns. The smell of his aftershave and the dark interior of the car shrouded them in a cocoon of intimacy. The silence was comfortable and she went with it, leaning back into the headrest and watching the scenery out of the panoramic roof window.

  It was only dinner. Accepting his invitation didn’t mean she was accepting that they would sleep together. It meant they could continue spending time together in an effort to get him back on track.

  Right.

  “We’re here.”

  Chelsea frowned at the large stone and glass building fronted by tall, skinny poles at spaced intervals. “This doesn’t look like a restaurant. Where are we?”

  “The California Academy of Sciences.”

  “I thought we were going to dinner.”

  “We are.”

  “Then why are we stopping here? Aren’t they closed?”

  “To the public. Not to me. Come on.”

  Intrigued, she took his outstretched hand and followed him around the side of the building to a nondescript opening. He knocked twice and a young woman, dressed in black business attire, opened the door.

  “Good evening, Mr. Bennett,” she said, waving them inside. “My name is Katie and I’m your maître d’ for tonight. We have everything prepared to your specifications.”

  “Thank you,” he said. With a hand at Chelsea’s back, he guided her inside the building. His touch flared through her dress, a tempting brush of warmth against her skin.

  “Our maître d’?” she mouthed, brows raised.

  She’d assumed he was taking her to the restaurant, but it appeared he’d rented out an entire museum for their dinner. She was no stranger to extravagance, considering the fame and wealth of her clients. She’d visited athletes in their multimillion-­dollar mansions, had even flown on a private plane to visit a well-­known actor filming on location. But being the recipient of such luxury? Having someone make such a big deal for her?

  Her decision to accept Adam’s invitation hadn’t really been a decision. It hadn’t even been another instance of following her instincts. She’d succumbed to a moment of passivity after years of resista
nce, thinking what were the odds that this spark of attraction would flourish when subjected to the light? Despite what she’d hoped, she hadn’t expected him to show such care and consideration. She glided beside him, anticipation blooming to life in her belly.

  They followed Katie down a long hallway that opened into a room bathed in soothing, flickering tones of blue. When they turned the corner, Chelsea’s eyes widened. They stood in the entryway of an aquarium tunnel, surrounded by an underwater wonderland.

  Schools of fish, sharks, and all manner of sea life swam around them. She walked a little farther and gasped. A bloom of jellyfish floated by, their pink umbrella-­shaped caps and silky ribbon tentacles glowing with an otherworldly light.

  Katie stood at a small table with a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket. “I’m going to let the staff know you’ve arrived. Enjoy the exhibit and I’ll be back in about twenty minutes.”

  Chelsea looked at Adam in wonder. “This is amazing!”

  The muscle in his cheek jumped. “And it still doesn’t compare to you.”

  She looked away. How should she respond? She honestly didn’t know. She knew the smart thing to do. Act as if the attraction wasn’t real. She could claim they’d given it a shot, it hadn’t worked out, and they could settle into a normal business arrangement for the next week. That’s what she should do.

  But the feelings he aroused in her were addictive. His presence was so consuming. It made her yearn to be away from him so she could breathe. And yet when they were apart, she wanted to be with him, to interact with him, even if he was driving her crazy with his intractable nature.

  Since she was unsure of her response, she decided to say nothing, choosing instead to take in her surroundings. She imagined during the day the place was filled with visitors, their voices echoing off their surroundings in a raucous babble. With just the two of them, and the low music playing in the background, it was quiet, tranquil. Intimate.

  It was too much, too soon. They’d just gotten here. She couldn’t let herself be carried away by the romance of it. She reached for the nearest flute. “How about a glass of champagne?”

  They strolled along the corridor where she saw a living, colorful coral reef teeming with tropical fish. A bright yellow fish the size of a football floated just above a smaller fish that was a deep royal blue hue. The vibrant colors drew her in and she put her finger to the cool glass. A swarm of tiny fish immediately flocked to her finger before swishing away in a choreographed routine.