Still focused on the wedding couple, Kyle was thankfully oblivious to her embarrassing show of possessiveness. He shook his head. “Look at the way the groom is gazing into the bride’s eyes. That’s not two models. It’s true love.”
“You’re soft. You still have mush brain from that story you made up for the saleswoman.” She craned her head to get a better look at the couple. The photographer glanced up, a quirky smile on his face. Was that smile for her? Could he sense her womanly virtues from this distance? And if he could, why couldn’t Kyle sense them when he was only two inches away from her? Focus, Angie. “As I said, you should be writing the stories, with all the romance you see in everything.”
He shot her a sharp look. “I’m only doing it for the story.”
“I don’t believe you. You’re a sensitive guy who is trying to hide it.” Good thing she didn’t like sensitive guys. She liked men like Roger who were too emotionally stunted to commit. They were where it was at. Yeah…uh, huh…and maybe someday she would actually convince herself of that.
Kyle scowled. “I’m not. It’s just about the story.”
“Then why are you seeing love when it’s just a couple of models?”
He glared at her. “You’re the one who’s overly cynical and wouldn’t believe a couple who’d been married for seventy-five years actually had a good thing going.”
“What?” Angie posted her hands on her hips. “I’m just a realist. It’s obvious that both the bride and groom are models. What’s cynical about that?”
Kyle eyed her for a long moment, a thoughtful look on his face.
“What do you want?” She shifted, a warm heat settling in her body at the feeling of being so caressed by his eyes…er…rather…inspected.
“Let’s make a bet,” he said.
A bet, huh? That led to all sorts of interesting possibilities in her mind. A bet as to how long they could kiss before one of them passed out. A bet about how long it would take for her to get his clothes off. “What kind of bet?”
Chapter Eight
Who needs diamonds when he has a sense of humor? Or…um…gift wrap those diamonds in a sense of humor and she’ll be yours forever.
–Angie Miller, the tempted
“A bet as to whether those two are actually a couple,” Kyle said.
Well, that wasn’t the kind of bet she’d had in mind. No sex involved at all. “That’s your bet?” She tried not to be unduly obvious with her disappointment.
He nodded. “If I’m right, then you have to tell me about the first time you truly fell in love. You have to relive it, so you remember that feeling.” He cleared his throat. “Because maybe that will help you get in the right mindset to write a great romantic story.”
She blinked. “No way.” That was much too personal for her, especially since she couldn’t stop combining the L word and Kyle’s name in her mind. She couldn’t really think of any other guys at the moment.
“So you think you’ll lose?” he challenged.
“No.”
“Then take the bet.”
“What if I win?”
He rubbed his chin. “What do you want?”
Hot, bad-girl sex with you. She immediately sent her hormones to the corner for a time-out. “I want you to write the next story. I want to see you evoke tender emotions of love and devotion with the written word. And then I’ll edit it.”
He looked pained. “I don’t write about love.”
She gave him a challenging look. “Afraid you’ll lose?”
He studied the couple again, then shook his head. “It’s a deal.” He held out his hand.
Damn. They had to do that skin-touching thing again. If he kept up with all these torturous things, she was going to throw herself at him by the end of the night. All these heart-melting gestures were too much: calling her sweet names, espousing romance and love so her heart turned over, putting his arm around her and now, bare skin to bare skin. She could only imagine how warm his hand would be against the rest of her bare skin. Like her breasts. They’d get all perky and excited to have him caressing them and then…
“So, go ask them,” he said. “Find out if they’re actually a couple.”
“What? I’m not going to go interrupt them.”
“Fine. We’ll go up there and eavesdrop. Maybe we’ll be able to figure it out.” He started walking toward the couple. “But if they turn out to be a real couple, we’re going to interview them for our next story.”
“Why doesn’t that little suggestion surprise me? You’re like a bloodhound on the hunt for romance.” She laughed when he shot her an evil glare. Being dubbed a romance king apparently wasn’t manly. Good to know. She’d be sure to call him that regularly from now on.
She was still grinning when he cruised to a stop a few feet from the photo shoot. “Let’s pretend we’re admiring the tree,” he said.
The man was a total kook, she realized as she started vocalizing her admiration for the tree. And weirdly enough, she was having fun. Oh, sure, she was also totally hot for him, but in addition, he was making her laugh.
She took note of the star on the top and launched into a long dissertation on its credits while she turned her gaze to the couple. The “groom” had his hand on the “bride’s” arm and was leaning forward and whispering something in her ear that made her laugh. It was a very cozy moment.
But there were no attendants. If this was a wedding, shouldn’t the rest of the bridal party be there? And the camera was a serious piece of equipment. It was way too much for a simple wedding.
Then again, the bride’s engagement ring was enormous. Anyone who could afford a diamond that was bigger than the bride’s palm probably pulled out all the stops when it came to hiring wedding photographers.
She suddenly realized the camera had stopped whirring and the couple was staring at her with annoyed glares. Even the hot photographer was looking at her, his mouth quirked in that same amused grin. Crap. She was totally bagged for gawking. And how had she ended up only about eighteen inches from the couple?
It was Kyle’s fault. When she’d been looking up at the tree, he’d had his hand on her back pushing her forward.
She quickly spun to her left to pick up her conversation with Kyle and pretend she hadn’t been staring…but he was gone! She was alone, practically in the middle of the photo shoot.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but if you’re done shopping, it would be best if you left.” A security guard appeared by her shoulder and took her arm.
“But I was just talking to my friend…”
“And what friend would that be?” He began steering her toward the door.
Angie looked wildly around, and that’s when she saw Kyle. He was over by the elevators, laughing so hard that he was leaning against the wall to keep from falling over. He’d abandoned her on purpose! Bastard!
“You see,” the security guard said, “here at Tiffany’s, we take special care of our customers, which includes protecting them from paparazzi.”
“But I don’t have a camera!”
The look on the security guard’s face said it all. Yeah, missy, I’ve heard that one before. “You were working your way closer and closer. Too close.” He reached the revolving door. “I think it’s best if you find somewhere else to shop from now on. Merry Christmas.”
“But…”
Kyle appeared behind the security guard, still laughing. He caught her in his path and pushed them both out the revolving door. “Your face was priceless,” he said in her ear as he pushed the door open.
“You are so dead.” She wanted to be mad, she really did, but seeing Kyle laughing was too contagious. His eyes were sparkling, and his dimples were working overtime. No, she was mad. He’d humiliated her. “You’re a jerk.”
“And you’re laughing.”
“I am not.” She burst free of his arms when the door released them, and she started marching up the sidewalk, shoving her way through the throngs of people.
“You ar
e. I can see the corner of your mouth curving up.” He fell in beside her, his eyes still twinkling. “Admit it. That was funny.”
She eyed him. Okay, so it was funny, maybe a little bit. “Why’d you do that?”
“To lighten you up. Show you that the holidays can be fun.” He slung his arm around her shoulders and hauled her against him, then kissed the top of her head in a fun, affectionate kind of way. “I didn’t expect the security guard though. I just wanted you to turn around and see I wasn’t there. That was priceless.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She finally grinned. “You’re busted though. It’s not a real wedding.”
“Really? I didn’t hear the security guard say that.”
“Well, he said they were customers, which certainly doesn’t sound like how you’d describe a bride and groom—”
“To Tiffany’s, everyone is a customer. I think it’s still undecided, at best.”
Damn. “So, do you want to go back and ask?”
He laughed. “Not a chance. I don’t have time to bail you out of jail for being a stalker.”
Did he have a nice laugh or what? She was quite sure she’d never heard him laugh at work, or even when he was dating Sheila. Not a laugh like this one. It was so deep, like it was reverberating from deep inside an ancient cave. And pure. And genuine. Not a fake, polite laugh. The real thing.
She could get used to that laugh. It made her feel so warm and delicious, making her want to laugh with him.
“So, I think we both win. I’ll write the story, you have to tell me about the first time you fell in love.”
Her euphoria faded. “How about, since it’s a draw, neither of us has to do anything?”
“Nope. I want to hear your story. I want to hear what makes Angie swoon for a man.” He pulled out his phone. “I’ll order takeout from an Italian place near my building. We’ll head up there and get this thing written and posted by midnight. And then you have to start talking.” He tapped his phone softly against her cheek. “And it has to be an upbeat story.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re pretty when you smile.”
Oh, there went her heart again.
*
“Okay, so I was wrong. Your talent is all in the spoken word.” Angie was ensconced on Kyle’s couch, a printout of his story in her hands. Could she feel more content? His place was cozy and the camaraderie quotient had been high.
She had even managed to keep herself from disrobing and then straddling his lap while he sat at the computer. For now. She wasn’t making any promises as the night went on and she’d had another glass of wine.
“It’s not that bad.” The couch sank under his weight as he sat down next to her.
“Did you even try?” The couch felt a little cramped with him on it. Perhaps she should sit on him to make more room.
“Sure.” His shoulder brushed against hers as he leaned over to look at her notes. A sign he was trying to seduce her? “Did you keep even one word I wrote?”
She pointed. “The.”
“Well, it’s because I didn’t have anything to work with. It wasn’t as if my neighbor was in the mood to wax poetic on the elevator ride up. If you hadn’t gotten thrown out of the store, we could have gotten a real couple to interview.”
“The couple wasn’t real.” Did he smell good or what? Mmm…
“Maybe they were.” He pulled the paper out of her hand. “So I wrote the story. You pay up. Tell me the story about the first time you fell in love. Truly in love.”
You mean tonight? With you? Because that’s my only story. She wasn’t really thinking that was the best thing to bring up right now. “But we haven’t finished the story.”
“We have time.”
She held up her watch. “It’s eleven-thirty. Since when do you put a work deadline at risk?” Now that she mentioned it, it was sort of odd. Was he starting to fall madly and passionately in love with her?
No! Don’t think like that! It was that kind of hopeful thinking that had burned her before.
He frowned, then took the printout from her hand and walked back to the computer.
Victory.
But it felt like she’d lost, sending him back to work. She liked this side of him. Which was why he should go back to work. There was no need to get her heart broken again, as fun as it was to daydream.
*
It had been nineteen hours since Kyle had sent Angie home from his condo without grabbing her and kissing her until neither of them could think. Note that he hadn’t kissed her senseless. He hadn’t kissed her at all. He’d taken her home in a cab, escorted her to her door, and then walked away.
And he’d never regretted any decision in his life more.
At the same time, he’d never been more grateful for any show of willpower.
Because he wanted her.
And because he couldn’t afford her. He couldn’t afford to put his relationship with Roger at risk until Roger had sold him the company. He couldn’t dally with a woman like Angie. She would demand all of his soul, not the occasional date, which was all he had to give. He couldn’t afford to feel the things he was feeling for her.
So now, it was seven o’clock in the evening, and he was sitting alone at his desk, as he had all day. He’d kept a wide berth around Angie’s office. He couldn’t risk being alone in that tiny office with her, not when he was still thinking about that kiss in Macy’s last night.
He hadn’t made it down to her office to talk about today’s story, which had been quite a big improvement over her previous efforts. There’d even been a hint of raciness beneath the surface, which he was sure Swift would appreciate. Lord knew, he sure as hell did.
Yeah, he’d had fun with her. Fun shopping, fun kissing, fun that had made him forget she was a key asset to his company and Roger’s ex. Fun that had made him forget his priority, which was work. When she’d pointed that out last night, he realized he’d gotten sucked in too far. Dallying with Angie was too dicey, with the company’s future at stake.
Though he could not deny that he enjoyed her wit and spunk thoroughly. She was so genuine, so expressive in her emotions, and utterly without guile.
And damn cute too.
Sure, she was a little serious, but what else could be expected? She’d been hanging around with Roger for the last two years, which was hardly the kind of experience that would make one light-hearted and cheerful.
There was no way to deny it. He liked her. He wanted her.
He scowled and emailed his latest revisions to Angie. Okay, fine, he could admit it. He was getting tempted. Which is why he was staying where he was.
Or maybe he’d pull himself off the project entirely, for the company’s good. He obviously wasn’t inspiring Angie to greatness in her writing, though today’s story had been a lot more upbeat than the others. He’d definitely sensed a shift in the tone in her work. Was she beginning to recover from Roger?
He’d like to think it had something to do with the fun they had last night.
Or not.
He didn’t want to think about the fun. What kind of bet had that been? Trying to corner Angie into telling him about how she had loved some other guy? Yeah, that would have made his night, hearing about her and Roger.
“Okay, so what’s your problem?”
He looked up as Angie flopped down in one of the chairs in his office. She was wearing a long, black skirt with a slit up the side. Modest, yet hinting at what was beneath. Her maroon V-neck sweater cupped her breasts almost accidentally, as if she hadn’t intended to wear something that admitted she was a woman.
“You’re staring at my breasts.”
Cursing, he looked up and met her gaze, his gut lurching when he saw the heat lurking beneath the surprise.
“Since when do you stare at my breasts? I’ve never seen you do that.”
Um…there simply wasn’t an acceptable answer to that question. “Um…”
“I’m completely offended.” But her tone belied her wor
ds. There was a huskiness beneath the surface that caught him off guard.
Was she feeling the same things he was?
“So, what are you doing up here?” It was best to change the subject. He wasn’t quite sure about his footing.
“I was sitting at my desk feeling unappreciated, so I figured I’d come up here and have you gawk at my body for a while. I feel much better now. Thanks.”
“Dammit. I’m sorry! What else do you want me to say?” He felt his cheeks growing hot. Nice.
“I’m actually quite enjoying your payback for Tiffany’s yesterday. Are you feeling a little embarrassed? Excellent.” She grinned and looked damn cute. “So, I also came up here because I want to know what’s up with the long distance harassment today?”
“You mean email?”
“Yep, that’s what I mean.” There was still a sparkle in her eyes that hadn’t been there before their shopping excursion yesterday. Was it a residual effect of their evening?
He wasn’t sure what he thought about that.
“So, did you decide I had cooties or something?” She tilted her head. “You know, it’s bad enough when you’re harassing me in person, but by email, it’s worse. It feels inhumane. Please destroy me to my face or not at all.”
She didn’t look that destroyed. In fact, she looked fantastic.
“Want to go to a party tonight?” Dammit. How had that made it out of his mouth? He didn’t want to go to a party with her. He wanted her to go back downstairs to her office and stay on the other side of the email so he didn’t have to look at her.
She looked startled. “What kind of party?”
He flicked an invitation that was sitting on his desk. “Swift is having a Christmas party tonight. Come with me. It’s formal though. Do you have anything to wear?”
Angie picked up the invite and read it. “I’m the one working on their assignment and they invite you? The finance guy?”
“Well, I am the owner of New Age.” There wasn’t quite as much sparkle in her eyes anymore. It was more like evil flashes. Like the old Angie, who used to shoot him those glares whenever she saw him. Damn. He wanted the flirty, emotional intimacy that had been building between them instead.
Jingle This! Page 11
