by Desiree Holt
Howard Manning, Director of Marketing, waited to lead her through security and up to the boardroom on the second floor. “We’re anxious and excited to see your presentation, Ms. Patterson,” he told her.
“Julia, please.”
“Okay, Julia.” He smiled. “We’re definitely ready to see what you propose for our new roll-out.”
“Will everyone who’s necessary be there?” she asked.
“Pretty much. However, as I explained, we’ll do the presentation in two parts. This morning you’ll meet with our department heads and the worker bees who’ll deal with what you create. This afternoon you get the suits—the executive staff—including our CEO.”
The faces greeting her in the boardroom were smiling and expectant, the usual eclectic mix of young and old, fresh and worn, male and female, and a wide mix of cultures. She noted Manning had arranged for the equipment she requested, so she hooked up her computer and brought up the PowerPoint presentation. After Howard introduced her, she drew in a breath and began her pitch.
The morning sped by. She passed out two-page handouts for everyone at the appropriate time and answered their questions. But she knew this was just preparation, a briefing if the company bought her plan. Howard ordered lunch sent in for everyone, giving Julia a chance to chat informally with the group and prepare for the afternoon.
“Our executive vice president is tied up in a meeting right now,” Howard whispered as the executive staff filed in. “He’s the one who says yea or nay. He’ll join us as soon as he can.”
Great. Would he expect her to do it all over again for him?
She sighed and began her presentation again.
It was well into the afternoon and she was pulling out copies of the proposed budget to distribute when the door to the boardroom opened quietly, and Julia’s stomach dropped to the floor. She felt as if an electric surge slammed into her, plucking at every one of her nerve endings.
The man who silently took a seat at the end of the table wasn’t necessarily handsome, but he was one hundred percent male. Liquid brown eyes were framed by the thickest lashes she had ever seen on a man. She noticed the strong jaw and the lines of character etched on an incredibly masculine face. Straight brown hair, a hint of silver reflecting in the lights, worn just a little long, gave him a slight rakehell look.
The classic dark business suit barely concealed the power he radiated. More than that, he exuded an aura of self, of authority, of comfort in his own skin few men were able to attain. She could think of only three words to describe him. Dark. Edgy. Dangerous. In her entire thirty years, no man had ever affected her the way this man did. Certainly not Charles. She clamped down on her reaction, forbidding herself to let her thoughts wander into forbidden territory. As she’d learned, her judgment where men were concerned left a great deal to be desired.
“Let me interrupt a moment.” Manning jumped to his feet. “Julia, meet Lucas Buchanan, our executive vice president. He’s been in another meeting until now.”
“I’m pleased you could join us, Mr. Buchanan.” Julia pasted on her professional smile and hoped her voice sounded firmer to the others than it did to her.
Lucas Buchanan nodded at her. “Luke, please. Sorry to be late. Please don’t let me interrupt.”
She struggled to pick up the threads of what she’d been saying, her brain suddenly addled, and her hands unsteady. It took every ounce of personal discipline to keep focused on her presentation.
Somehow she got through it, even managed to answer questions intelligently. Luke was silent throughout, but his eyes never left her. She knew he would remember and file away everything said. A man like Luke Buchanan didn’t get where he was by not paying attention.
Then finally, they were finished, and she shook hands with everyone. Howard Manning stood at her elbow like a well-bred guard dog, ushering everyone along. Luke still sat at the end of the table, watching quietly through hooded eyes. She busied herself packing everything back into her briefcase, feeling as if she were surrounded by his presence.
“I hope you’ll join me for dinner,” Howard told her when she was finished.
“Ms. Patterson will be having dinner with me, Howard. Thanks anyway.” Luke suddenly stood next to her, his hand at her elbow.
“Oh, you don’t need to—” she began, but he interrupted her.
“We still have business to discuss, don’t you think?”
He phrased it as a question, but Julia was positive he was telling her, not asking. Shocked at the electric jolt such a light touch sent buzzing through her system, she wondered if the man sensed how rattled she was. “Yes. Thank you. That would be nice.”
The nearness of the man swamped her. She felt as if she were being drawn into a vortex, powerless to pull herself out. Sex with Charles was always…perfunctory. A disappointing crash after what she guessed had been unrealistic expectations. But this man, with one casual touch of his fingers, set bells ringing inside her. She hoped she didn’t look and sound as dazed as she felt.
Still lightly touching her arm, he looked at Howard.
“Why don’t you carry Ms. Patterson’s things downstairs for her and I’ll pick her up in front.” He turned to Julia. “Five minutes. Howard will help you.”
The private elevator doors opened and he was gone before she even knew he’d left her side. The place where he’d touched her still tingled and his absence left her suddenly bereft.
“A good sign,” Howard told her. “He doesn’t usually do the wining and dining for the company.”
“Oh?” Julia raised an eyebrow.
He took her briefcase and computer and led her to the elevator. “If Lucas Buchanan wants to have dinner with you, I’d say you can consider this a done deal.”
“Thank you, Howard, but I’ve learned to keep my expectations under control. We’ll see how it goes.”
Once outside, Howard ushered her into a black Lincoln, shook her hand, and closed the car door after her.
Luke turned and looked at her. The heat simmering in his eyes, the unspoken message dancing in the air between them, stunned her.
His lips curved in a smile. “Here we go.” His deep warm voice was like a caress.
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach and Julia felt an unfamiliar flash of heat suffuse her.
Here we go, indeed.
Chapter 3
“I’d like to take a minute to freshen up, if you don’t mind.” Julia paused in the hotel lobby.
And take a few minutes to gather her wits about her.
“Take your time.” Luke smiled. “I’ll get us a table in the cocktail lounge while you run up to your room. I thought we’d have a drink before heading into the restaurant.”
“All right. Sounds good.”
In her room, she dropped her briefcase and portfolio, leaned against the closed door, and put her hands to her heated face. Her entire body felt flushed, her bones shook, and the oddest sensation coursed through her. What was the matter with her? She didn’t even know the man. This was crazy.
There was no mistaking the unspoken message in Luke’s dark eyes when he looked at her, no matter how circumspect his behavior. And even three floors away from him, she still felt his powerful presence surrounding her.
What she needed was a cold shower. Maybe the stinging spray would bring her to her senses. She glanced at her watch. Could she do it quickly? She stripped off her clothes, fully aware if she exchanged her business uniform for something more casual, she was acknowledging this was more than a business date. She was equally nervous and aroused. A dangerous combination. Why couldn’t she just get on with it? Allow herself to sample life a little?
She hurried through the shower, drying herself quickly, rubbing cream into her skin, spraying perfume on her pulse points, and pulling on the soft slacks and cashmere sweater she’d brought to travel home in. Gold hoops at her ears. She brushed her hair until it shown and swayed with a natural rhythm. And all the wh
ile the image of Luke Buchanan burned itself into her vision. Unexpectedly, she wondered what he looked like without any clothes on such a powerful body. Wondered what fantastic things he would do to her. With her.
Oh, my God! Crazy, crazy, crazy.
She sensed she was on the verge of doing the most daring thing she’d ever done in her life, but Luke Buchanan mesmerized her. She couldn’t help herself. Maybe it was her lack of experience with anyone but Charles. Maybe it was the need curling inside her to discover what real passion was. Maybe it was a response to having a man look at her as if she was a desirable woman. Whatever it was, it was blossoming inside her like a flower seed buried too long under snow.
When she entered the cocktail lounge, Luke rose from the booth he’d commandeered, his eyes taking in every inch of her body. When he took her arm as she slid onto the bench seat, the same instant shock of electricity she’d felt during the afternoon crackled through her.
“I’d have ordered for you but I neglected to ask what you drink.” His deep voice was like a liquid caress.
“Amaretto, please. On the rocks. Thank you.”
“Very nice.” His gaze took in every inch of her. “I like the outfit. The color brings out the blue in your eyes.”
“Thank you.” She searched for something else to say, but her tongue seemed immobilized. Compliments were rare in her life with Charles.
She was grateful when the waiter brought her drink, not for the alcohol but for something to do with her hands.
“You’re clutching your glass like a lifeline.” Amusement edged Luke’s tone and his eyes crinkled at the corners. “You aren’t an alcoholic by any chance, are you?”
“No. Not at all.” She picked up the drink and sipped at it, feeling the warmth slide through her system, praying her hands wouldn’t shake. “Just…winding down.” Or winding tighter.
Luke studied her face, hot gaze stroking her skin. “Tell me about yourself, Julia Patterson. I know everything there is to know about your agency and absolutely nothing about you.”
“You’ll find I’m a very boring person, Mr. Buchanan.”
“Luke, please.” There was that smile again, melting her bones. “And I don’t believe anyone who comes up with the creative ideas you do can be boring at all.”
“You’d be surprised.” She lowered her eyes. His piercing gaze unnerved her, as if he could see beneath her skin.
“Where are you from?” he asked. “What do you like to do?” He grinned. “What’s your most secret fantasy?”
Fantasy? Should she tell him she’d been having unbelievable fantasies about him in the quick shower she’d taken to cool herself off?
“Julia?” His amused voice broke into her mental wanderings. “This isn’t a test, just nosy interest on my part.”
“I’m sorry. I guess my mind drifted.” She took another sip of amaretto. “There isn’t much to tell. I’m a small town girl living in the big city, with two great kids and a wonderful business.”
How could she possibly tell him the truth? She’d rushed into a youthful marriage, propelled by two sets of parents and the social expectations of friends. Now, if not for her agency and her children, she’d be little more than a cipher in limbo. And her sex life wouldn’t even be the envy of a nun.
No, she wouldn’t tell him that little tidbit.
“Tell me more about your kids,” he urged.
“My kids?” She stared.
“Yes. What are they like? Kids tell a lot about the kind of people their parents are.”
She laughed nervously. “I don’t want to bore you to death.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “Nothing about you could bore me.”
Her children were an area where she could go on for hours. She forgot to be tense and anxious, forgot about everything as she talked about Andy and Beth. As she talked, she sipped on the wonderful amaretto, its velvety texture soft against her tongue. Wrapped in the growing feeling of relaxation, she barely noticed when a full glass replaced an empty one.. Every so often, she’d catch something dark flashing in Luke’s eyes, like a shadow of sadness. She wondered what was in this man’s life to cause such hidden melancholy.
* * * *
Luke watched the woman across from him, posture relaxed, careful to betray nothing of his real interest through either movement or facial expression. The cashmere sweater draped softly across her breasts, and when she leaned forward, he could see the rosy skin exposed by the wide neckline. The muted lights of the cocktail lounge caught the golden highlights in her hair and the glint of green in her eyes. Her translucent skin was slightly flushed, and he wondered if it was the alcohol or his presence. He hoped the latter.
The energy he’d felt the instant he met her stunned him, affecting him more strongly than any woman in recent memory. These days, in fact, he’d wondered if he’d burned himself out these past years trying to erase the damage his wife had caused. He’d been hard-pressed to conceal his arousal back in the conference room. The moment he looked into Julia’s eyes, he’d wanted nothing more than to take her to bed and fuck her senseless.
He could almost feel the silkiness of her skin beneath his hands, the lushness of her body as he explored it, and taste the sweet essence uniquely hers. He didn’t ever remember wanting a woman this badly. From the moment he’d walked into the conference room and saw her standing there, his cock had been so hard he’d had to sit down immediately to conceal it.
And what was that about, anyway? He wasn’t a teenager with raging hormones. Or a young man who’d thought he was marrying a princess who turned out to be a witch—a promiscuous one to boot. He’d certainly enjoyed more than enough sex before and after his marriage, yet no woman ever reached deep inside him the way Julia Patterson did just by…being.
She was nervous, and he didn’t know if it was him or the situation. He wanted her to relax and be at ease, so he could see if this…thing…sizzling between them sparked to life or was nothing more than a hopeful figment of his imagination.
He could tell as much about her from what she omitted as from what she told him. Why no comments about her husband? No enthusiastic description of her marriage? What sort of man claimed Julia Patterson as his wife, but lived with her in a relationship devoid of detail? He saw a woman of great warmth, personal charm, and unbelievable sexual attraction. The man must be a eunuch or a cheat.
His own marriage had been less than desirable, followed by a bitter divorce. The resentment of it all still clung to him and he wished he’d found Julia before someone else had. And before his own life had disintegrated so badly.
* * * *
“You’re staring,” she told him. “Is my makeup smeared?”
“Your makeup is fine. You’re fine.” He smiled. “I enjoy looking at you, listening to you. I love the sound of your voice.”
She laughed a nervous sound. The longer they sat in the booth, the more overpowering his presence. Could they simply stay here forever? “You must have pretty empty conversations if mine excites you.”
“Not at all. By the way, your proposal is excellent. I asked someone to bring me their copy during lunch so I could study it before the afternoon session.”
“So you’ve already seen it?” She was surprised. She’d expected to wait the usual week or so before it made its way to the decision-maker.
He nodded. “If the numbers add up the way they look like they should, we definitely have a deal.” He lifted his glass in a toast. “Shall we have another drink to seal the agreement?”
Julia nodded, the almond liqueur soothing her nerves and melting her tension. Luke leaned forward, talking to her in a low, deep voice. She couldn’t draw herself away from his eyes, so mesmerizing they locked her in place. Vaguely, she heard soft music somewhere and turned her head.
“They bring in a little duo in the evening.” He motioned to the postage stamp dance floor. “What about it?” At her hesitation, he added, “It’s nothing more than a
dance, Julia. Between colleagues.”
A dance. Right.
A shiver skittered over her spine.
What was she doing here? Losing her mind?
Proper, obedient Julia was going to color outside the lines. But she was tempted by the possibility of forbidden pleasure. Of something she’d barely dreamt about. Unknown sensuality she’d heard her friends talk about and silently longed for.
Wordlessly, almost as if her body was on automatic pilot, she slid from the booth and put her hand in his. His fingers closed around hers with a gentle assurance that sent a surge of warmth through her. Despite what he said, she sensed he knew as well as she did things weren’t quite as simple as a dance. On the tiny floor, he drew her against him and their bodies fit as if poured from matching molds. They moved in a slow rhythm, his strong arm encircling her, his warm hand holding hers in close to his chest.
She inhaled the scent of him, spicy and musky, mixed with an incredible male essence. Dangerous. The word came back to her again.
She wasn’t stupid. She knew what was happening here. Forget more drinks. Forget dinner. She should break away and go to bed. Alone. But she knew she’d already made a choice, and her body began to tingle in anticipation. This was the most daring thing she’d ever done, and she felt powerless to stop herself.
They barely moved from the one spot on the dance floor as the music flowed around them, thighs pressed to thighs, the heat of his body melting into hers. The flexing of the muscles in those thighs as they moved to their own rhythm made hers quiver. Her breasts, pressed against the hard planes of his chest, felt suddenly full and heavy. She wanted to purr and rub herself all over him like a cat. When the song ended and he led her back to the table, she had to blink her eyes to remember where she was.
“You dance well.”
“Oh!” The compliment startled her. “Thank you. You make it easy.”
His voice melted her. There was a richness to it, like fresh coffee or warm chocolate pouring over her, through her, and around her. She thought she could listen to him talk forever.
