She sure hoped he had answers, because she couldn’t seem to figure out any.
Only one answer ever sprang to her mind when she got this close to Preston. And it had a lot to do with what he called a “connection.” On her end, it felt more like a riot of emotions combined with raw lust and—quite honestly—a little bit of magic.
What else could explain her attraction to the off-limits cowboy CEO with a butterfly on one shoulder?
She chewed her bottom lip and before she could second-guess herself, she arched up onto her toes for what could be the last kiss she would ever have with Preston.
Four
Preston had Amie back in his arms again and the feel of her was better than any memory he’d held on to of that night in the coatroom. And his memories had been pretty damn awesome.
Her lips parted under the press of his, yielding in a way that could only happen when they were kissing and she wasn’t snapping at him, just purring. Right now, with her mouth under his, there were no arguments. No doubts. Even in her yielding, she was sure of herself. Of the kiss. The silken stroke of her tongue along his told him as much while he skimmed a touch down her bare arms and up again, her halter top giving him delicious access to her shoulders. The slender warmth of her neck.
He breathed her in, deepening the kiss.
The press of her curves against his body sent his pulse into overdrive. The exotic scent of her musk-and-clove perfume tempted him, begged him to touch her. Everywhere. He enjoyed the silkiness of her hair as he stroked his hands over her braid. But he needed to touch more of her. Needed to feel her skin against his. She leaned into his fingertips as he ran them down her spine. Her nimble fingers played along his neck and over his shoulders. Every touch sent snaps of electricity through him until he backed her into a wall, his body shielding them from view if anyone walked in.
He hadn’t tasted her enough that first time. Hell, he could kiss her for days and not get enough of her taste. She was such a flash of bright color in his world that he could see her like a damn kaleidoscope even behind his eyelids as they kissed.
More than that, she intrigued him. This woman who was won over by butterflies more than flowers or extravagant gifts. So different than his other relationships. She was unique. Special. And he should be old enough to know better, but still, she drew him in. Age and their work connection and his own shortcomings in relationships be damned. He wanted her, ached to have her.
And from the way she moved, Preston could tell Amie wanted it too. Her touch spurred him to take the chance. He kissed along her neck, nipping her shoulder. “Let’s go back to the hotel. That is completely not the workplace and a helluva lot roomier than a coat closet.”
Her head fell back and she blinked fast, long black eyelashes fluttering to focus. “What?”
“I want to take my time with you.” His hands glided down her bare arms slowly, resting finally on her hips. A smile snaked across his lips. “I want to live out every fantasy I wish we’d had time for two months ago.”
“Ohmigosh.” The fog from her eyes cleared and horror replaced passion. “What did we just do?”
“We kissed. Like two consenting adults who’ve been going damn crazy with frustration for the past two months trying to ignore the connection.” He was losing ground fast and needed her to understand. “This is not about a repeat of the coatroom. This is about two adults attracted to each other. That’s all.”
She raised an eyebrow, face turning cold. Like marble. “Do you sleep with every person you’re attracted to?”
He hadn’t considered she might wonder about his motivations. It seemed odd that such a confident, sexy woman could have insecurities, too, but as he thought back to those sketches she’d tried to hide from him, he had to wonder. “I meant it when I said I’m not a one-night-stand person and I believed you were being honest, too.”
“You’re saying we should...what?” She angled her head to the side, butterflies swirling behind her in a display. Her blue eyes steeled against him. “That we go on dates? That we sleep together?”
“Honestly? I was thinking we would do both.” There would be issues to deal with, datingwise, but he wasn’t a man who tolerated sneaking around.
“What about all the things you said earlier?” She backed out of his embrace and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “You’re my boss and older than I am. That you’re not a team player.”
Good question. And that meant she was considering it. He was closer to winning. “We keep our relationship separate when we’re at work with a little less ice and obvious static. We’re both professionals.”
She shook her head, the rose slipping loose from her braid. It tumbled to the floor behind her, landing silently. “It isn’t that simple.”
It felt simple enough to him, especially seeing the way her fingers trembled lightly as she skimmed them across her lips where he’d just kissed her. His gaze followed the path of that sensual touch, hungry to show her how very, very simple—elemental—this could be.
“Why not?” he asked instead, thirsty for more of her. “What’s the harm in trying a date? Or more. See what happens? Can’t be more awkward than the past two months.”
Indecision flickered through her eyes, just a flash before she held up a hand. “Don’t try to win me over with your corporate pitch. I am not okay with the way you’ve cleared house and tampered with the family culture at McNair. You can save your closing-deal number. I know how you operate, and who knows, maybe my head’s next on the chopping block.”
“That’s not in the cards,” he said without hesitation.
Her throat moved in a slow swallow of relief. “Well, I’m not some account to win over.”
“You most definitely are not.” She was more. So much more.
Amie shook her head. “Save it.”
A tight line smoothed her plump lips into an expression that he couldn’t readily identify. Pain? Hesitation? He wasn’t sure. And while he realized he would have to put his plans on hold for now, he was not giving up. Not on this woman.
Amie broke his gaze, turned around and made for the door. She stepped on the flower, smearing the red petals on the ground.
Preston stared at the ground, breathing in the scent of roses for a moment while he contemplated his next move.
* * *
The ride back to the hotel in the limousine was awkward, to say the least. Amie couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss in the butterfly gallery. How much she wanted to take Preston up on his proposition. In fact, she very well might have if she hadn’t been pregnant. But she was and she had to keep that in mind at all times for her baby’s sake.
Preston sat across from her, giving her space. Although she could sense he was only biding his time. She’d watched him at work often enough to know his tactics. Telling him to back down wouldn’t work. She needed to come up with a plan of her own.
Soon.
Her cell phone rang inside her pewter handbag. The bag, while stylish, was full of essentials. She batted around a mess of receipts and makeup, digging for the ringing phone. In the seat next to her, she dumped her lip gloss, mints and amethyst-and-pearl compact. Finally, the purse was empty enough to find her phone. She fumbled with the turquoise clasp. Her grandmother’s name flashed across the screen. Her gut clenched in fear.
She grabbed the phone and answered fast. “Gran, it’s late in Texas. What’s the matter?”
Preston’s forehead creased and he looked at her, a question in his eyes. She averted her gaze. Now wasn’t the time to worry about Preston. Not when her grandmother was this sick.
“Nothing’s wrong, dear.” Her grandmother’s voice came across weaker but steady. “I’m just calling to see how the party at the museum went.”
“The party? You’re calling for an after-action report now?” she asked incredul
ously. “It’s after midnight there, Gran. We can talk tomorrow. You should be asleep.”
Her grandmother snorted on the other end of the line. “All I do is lie around in bed and rest. It wrecks my sense of day and night.”
“Are you feeling all right?” Amie lowered her voice, wishing for a moment of privacy. Her grandmother’s illness was hard for her to deal with. She hated to think of her grandmother awake in pain.
“You just saw me this weekend. I’m the same.”
Dying. Moments ticking away while Amie was stuck going to parties. It wasn’t fair. She wanted to be at her side. To soak up the precious, borrowed time with her grandmother.
“And I’m going to worry about you every single hour of every day because I love you and you’re so very important to me.”
“You’re a sweet girl. My only granddaughter. I was so excited when you were born.”
“Sweet? Me?” She laughed softly. “Not really, but then neither are you. I like to think I inherited my feistiness from you.”
Her grandmother chuckled along with her, then laughed harder until she coughed. Clearing her throat, she continued, “I am proud of you and I believe you can make this work. Now, tell me. How is it going?”
“The LA party was a success. The museum setting was brilliant.” The kiss with Preston was incredible, but that part would not appear in any reports. “The photographer took lots of photos. You should have them on your computer to look through in the morning. If you’re still having trouble resting, some pictures may have already arrived.”
“Photos of you with Preston? I want to see how the two of you work together.”
Alarms sounded in her head. Had her grandmother picked up on some vibe between her and Preston? She couldn’t possibly know about the baby. Amie settled on a simple answer. “We were a unified front for the company.”
“So you’re working through the differences that fast? I’m not buying it, dear.”
“We’re trying.” She looked across the limo, her eyes meeting his. Had he been watching her so intently the whole time? Concern etched in his face. Genuine concern. It’d be so easy to let her guard fall, even now. “For you, Gran. Now, please, get some rest. We won’t let you down.”
The line disconnected and Amie realized more than her baby’s well-being was at stake here. Her grandmother’s peace of mind needed to stay in the forefront. They needed to smooth things over. And fast. She could make it through the week, smile for pictures with him. Amie couldn’t afford to weaken again around Preston. She had to stay strong and make sure every step was taken on her terms. She needed to reclaim some control.
Preston angled back, his arms along the leather limo seat. “Everything okay?”
“Sure. No crisis.” The last thing she wanted to tell him was that she suspected her grandmother could have ulterior motives beyond solidifying business relations. “She just wanted to check in.”
“And that’s all?” His hazel eyes narrowed in disbelief. The shadows in the limousine softened his features, making him seem more approachable. “I don’t think so.”
“What are you? Psychic?” She gripped the edges of the seat as the limo turned a corner. The driver took the corner hard, and she lurched toward Preston.
“I just know.” He lifted his index finger to the side of his temple and tapped twice. “It’s part of what makes me the boss,” he said, his confidence filling the seat as tangibly as his broad shoulders.
“That—” she paused for effect, then grinned “—and your arrogance.”
He laughed, apparently not daunted in the least. “Confidence is important. You’re one to talk, by the way.”
She opted to ignore that part. “Aren’t you going to ask why she called so late?”
The smile faded from his handsome face. “Tell me.”
“She’s having trouble sleeping because she’s in bed so much.” And Amie wanted to be there with her to keep her company, but her grandmother wanted her here for whatever reason. For a test. “It tears me up inside to think of her confined like that. She’s always been such a vibrant, dynamic woman. She’s the one who taught me to ride. Alex, Stone and I would spend hours out on the trails with her and Gramps.”
“I’m sorry. This is such an unfair way for her life to end.”
“I’m grateful she can still talk, that she’s still herself. The thought of...”
The limousine stopped short, and Amie fell forward, landing her onto Preston’s lap. He reached out to catch her instinctively. Heat flooded her cheeks as his warm hands helped her back to an upright position. This was exactly the kind of situation she needed to guard herself against. Thank heaven they had arrived at the hotel. Amie was exhausted with worry for her grandmother, her child and her feelings.
She peered out the window only to realize they’d stopped a couple of blocks short of the hotel. Preston frowned, but she was closer to the window separating them from the chauffeur. She tapped on the pane, signaling the driver.
The window slid opened. “Yes, Mr. Armstrong? Miss McNair?”
“Is there a problem?”
The uniformed driver scratched under his hat. “There’s a pileup that has traffic blocked ahead of us and there’s no backing up. I’m afraid we’re stuck until it clears. The minifridge is stocked.”
Alone? In the limo with Preston for who knew how long?
Amie snatched up her pewter clutch bag. “We’ll just walk. The hotel is only two blocks and this highway congestion is never going to let up.”
The chauffeur looked to Preston, who shrugged. “Whatever the lady wants.”
Amie stepped out into the warm night. Whatever she wanted? If only life could be that simple.
* * *
Preston shot out of the limo, stunned at how fast she’d bolted. No way in hell was he letting her walk around the streets of LA alone, regardless of how safe the area was supposed to be. It was still a city, far different from the open spaces of Texas. Besides that, she looked exactly like what she was—an extraordinarily beautiful and wealthy woman, both of which could attract the wrong sort of attention. Five sprints later, he’d caught her, her sequined top glinting in the night.
He shortened his strides to measure his pace to Amie’s as he scanned the traffic-jammed street. The famous LA traffic was no joke. People honked their horns, and music with heavy bass from a parked car filled the night air. The hotel was located in a good section of LA, but his instincts still stayed on alert. There were plenty of places, even in the good areas of the city that could be a threat to two pedestrians. He placed a palm on the small of her back possessively as they walked. He glanced at her, narrowing his eyes and daring her to argue. “If you don’t want my hand on you then we get back in the limo.”
She sighed, tucking her handbag against her side. “We need to set some ground rules for the rest of this trip.”
At least she was still talking to him. That was progress over the past two months of the great chill. “Such as?”
He continued to scan the area as they walked down the empty sidewalk. They had made it one block away from the limo. The street signs were caked brown from the smog. To a native Oklahoma kid, cities like LA felt dirty and overcrowded, even in the upscale areas. The sooner they were back at the hotel, the better. Maybe he could convince her to stay for a glass or two of wine in the hotel’s restaurant.
“We have to work together for years to come,” she said with her chin jutting, exposing her elegant neck.
He wanted to kiss her, starting at her neck. The taste of her two months ago and in the exhibit this evening wasn’t nearly enough. Preston’s attention wandered from her neck to the seductive swish of her filmy skirt.
Her boot heels clicked against the pavement, a steady drumming sound that matched the evenness of her voice. “We need to figure out how to make that ha
ppen without the attraction interfering.”
“I still don’t see what that has to do with denying the pull between us altogether.”
“You mean have an affair.”
“We are adults. Sex happens sometimes.” The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Even though they worked together, there was an equality to their stance since her family was the major stockholder. And she clearly didn’t want a long-term relationship, thank God, since he’d already been there, wrecked that with his ex-wife. “Fighting the attraction isn’t working. An affair makes sense.”
“That brings me back to my original point. Affairs more often than not end...messy.” She clutched her purse to her stomach. “We can’t afford that.”
“Then we agree that when the time comes to move on, we’ll be cordial.” He guided her past other pedestrians making their way down the sidewalk. Blue-and-red lights flashed in the distance as first responders pushed through the backed-up traffic to get to the three-car pileup.
“Preston, I hear what you’re saying, but it’s not that simple anymore.” Her throat moved with a long swallow. “We can’t afford to take that risk. The stakes are too high. Far too high.”
There was such worry in her eyes, an unmistakable fear. Panic tore at her face.
He squeezed her elbow lightly. “I think that until we face this head-on and give it a try, the tension will only get worse and interfere with the job all the more.”
“Spoken like a man who doesn’t take no for an answer.”
“I didn’t imagine what just happened or what happened two months ago.”
She glanced up at him, her eyes full of more of that worry he didn’t understand—but a yearning he understood all too well.
Chewing her bottom lip, she glanced at him. “Preston, can we go back to the original plan of getting to know each other better and take it from there?”
“Are you asking me to win you over?” The prospect filled him with a rush of excitement and hope.
Pregnant by the Cowboy CEO Page 6
