by Ravenna Tate
“Thank you for the dress and shoes. They weren’t necessary.”
He smiled. “Oh, yes they were. That color is stunning on you. It brings out your eyes.”
She didn’t know how to respond. Was this all part of the bullshit game, or did he actually find her attractive? She knew she wasn’t hideous, but she also wasn’t the kind of woman that men like him hung around with. She didn’t have legs up to there, a body that could wear anything and look good in it, or the easy, graceful way of speaking and walking those women had. She could barely walk and talk at the same time, let alone pull off such casual elegance.
He held out his hand. “Come on. I’ll give you a tour.”
What was he doing? This wasn’t a date. “Just tell me what you want me to do, Ace. Isn’t that why I’m here?”
The smile faded a bit, and his eyes took on that cold, hard stare that she knew so well. “I’d like to show you the apartment, and dinner is almost ready.”
“Fine. Lead the way.” But if it was as pretentious as this foyer, it would only depress the hell out of her.
****
Ace couldn’t figure out why she was so antagonistic.
Because you’ve told her it’s your bed or jail, jackass!
She looked absolutely beautiful. The dress showed off her curvy hips and tits He knew he’d chosen well. He couldn’t wait to peel it off her later. “This is the great room.”
She whistled softly. “It’s bigger than my entire apartment.”
“Then I guess I don’t pay you enough.”
He watched her ass move as she walked slowly toward the wall of windows. “Even if you did, I wouldn’t spend it on this.”
“I like to be surrounded by nice things.”
“I can see that. The view is pretty, I’ll say that much.”
“Yes, it is.”
She turned around, no doubt because he hadn’t tried to conceal the fact that he wasn’t talking about the skyline and the fake sunset behind it. “Let’s cut the crap, Ace. It doesn’t matter how many pretty sights you show me, or what you say about my looks. I know it’s all BS. Men like you don’t chase women like me.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means I’m not the super model type, and that’s who you go for.”
That comment would have made him angry if not for the pain deep in her eyes. Was it actually possible that this pretty girl had no clue how sexy she was? What kind of morons had she been dating? “Harper, it’s not BS. And for the record, I don’t have a type, unless you count female as a type.”
“The photos I saw featured women who didn’t look like me.”
“I don’t have photos of all the women I dated stored in personal accounts. And Traci is hardly the super model type.”
“All right.” Her voice sounded small and defeated. “That’s true.”
“I happen to prefer women with some meat on their bones.”
She still didn’t look convinced, and he was at a loss here. He didn’t do well with building up someone’s lousy self-esteem. He never seemed to say the right things, and trying to do so brought back memories of all the times he’d never been able to please his various foster parents. He didn’t go for women whose egos had been trashed. He didn’t know how to deal with it.
Ace closed his eyes for a second, forcing the images back down. Not tonight. Tonight was all for Harper. When he glanced at her again, he realized how nervous she looked now. Was that because of something she’d glimpsed on his face?
Then he studied her body language. Closed, tight, and unsure. A horrible thought rose up, unbidden. Was she a virgin? He certainly hoped not. If he’d known that about her he’d never have gone down this road.
He knew what had happened to her parents, and he knew where she’d gone to school and what degrees she’d earned, but he knew next to nothing about the rest of her life. She was only twenty-four, but surely she’d had a boyfriend or two by now.
“Given that you’ve seen my private photos, I would imagine you know I’m not lying when I said what type of woman I prefer.”
She blushed, and he felt like shit. He’d driven home his point enough times now. There was no reason to keep pouring salt in the wound.
“What I meant by the super model type was their aura. Their confidence and sophistication. That showed in the photos, and I’m not that type. So you really don’t have to do this. You don’t have to dress me up and give me fake compliments.”
People always gave themselves away with both their body language and the tone of their voice. It was one reason why he insisted on video meetings rather than conference calls or electronic meetings without video. He wanted to see their faces in addition to hearing their voices.
She was nervous, and she certainly didn’t have the same poise as some women he’d known. Both could be due to age or inexperience, but he imagined it had more to do with the fact that he’d given her no choice but to be here tonight. No choice she wanted to take a chance on, at any rate.
No doubt she felt backed against a wall and she was fighting, like an animal would. He liked that. It meant she had spirit and could stand up for herself if need be. He didn’t want a wallflower, or someone who would pretend to give into him but inside be wishing him dead. He loved the challenge of seducing a woman who had a mind of her own. The more they kept their distance, the more he wanted them. And when they had a debt to pay, as Harper did, they excited him like no one else could.
But he had promised her dinner, and he couldn’t think well when he was hungry. He held out his hand again. “They’re not fake compliments, Harper. You really do look beautiful. Let’s eat. The tour can wait. You must be as hungry as I am by now.”
She lowered her gaze and looked a bit lost for a second. The expression sent an odd sensation straight to his gut. He’d better find out what her experience level was before this went too far tonight. He didn’t want to hurt her. He only wanted her to understand that she owed him for prying into his personal accounts. And the debt he intended to make her pay was her body in his bed. He wasn’t ashamed of that, and he wouldn’t apologize for being who he was.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t take them well.”
“Compliments?”
“Yes.”
“I’m surprised by that.”
She sighed and glanced around, as if searching for a way to change the topic. “That smell coming from your kitchen is making my mouth water.”
He smiled. “Then come on. Let’s eat.” She hadn’t addressed his comment, but that could wait. It was easier to talk while eating than standing awkwardly in the middle of a room with the scent of roasted chicken distracting them both.
This time she took his hand, and her touch sent tiny electric jolts up his arm. Either he was having a heart attack, or he was more attracted to this woman than he’d first thought. He led her toward the dining room, pausing to peek his head into the kitchen and nod when Jasper’s wife, Alena, glanced up. “We’re ready for dinner.”
He glanced at Harper. “What would you like to drink?”
“Um, I don’t know. What do you have?”
“Just about anything you’d want.”
A shadow of indecision passed across her face. “Anything non-alcoholic, please.”
He couldn’t stop the grin in time. “How about some lemonade? Alena makes it fresh every day.”
“Thank you. Could I have some cookies, too?”
He didn’t remark on the sarcasm. He’d deserved it. Once they were seated in the dining room, Jasper appeared from the back hallway and lit the tapers in the center of the table, then left the room.
“How big is your staff?” she asked.
“You’ve just seen them both.”
“How do you get things like this dress and Van Gogh prints?” She glanced at the floor. “And this wood?”
He tented his fingers under his chin. “It’s a secret. If I tell you, I’ll have to kidnap you and keep you prisoner here to ens
ure you never tell another living soul.”
He saw her swallow hard, and if that wasn’t a brief flash of lust in those big blue eyes, he’d eat the candles that Jasper had just lit. How intriguing.
Chapter Four
Harper mentally shook away images of being tied up by Ace, but she’d been so distracted by his answer that she had to ask him to repeat the question he’d just asked.
“I asked you to tell me about your life since you came here. I know so little about you.”
She gave him a skeptical look. “Are you serious?”
“Very.”
She rarely talked about her life to anyone. She kept the details to herself. Harper was saved from having to decide whether to spill her guts to her boss when Alena and Jasper came into the room. They placed food in the center of the table, and then put a tall glass of lemonade in front of her, and a glass of wine at Ace’s place. Jasper asked Ace if he wanted the bottle left at the table.
“Yes.” Ace glanced at her glass of lemonade. “And please bring another wine glass, just in case.”
They both left, and Harper waited until Jasper had placed a wine glass in front of her and retreated again before she spoke. “This looks wonderful. Thank you.”
He began piling food on a plate and then handed it to her before filling his own. “You owe me two answers while we eat.”
“Two?”
“Yes. The question I just asked you, and an explanation of why you don’t take compliments well.”
Oh that. She’d forgotten all about it. She tasted the chicken “Wow. Fantastic.”
“I’m pleased you like it.”
“Do you eat like this every day?”
“Of course. Food is supposed to be enjoyed, as are all pleasures in life.”
He really needed to stop with the thinly-veiled sexual innuendoes. She knew why she was here. What she still didn’t know was whether he actually intended to make her go through with it. Part of her wanted him to. He was so damn good-looking, and a lot more relaxed looking here in his home than he appeared at work.
Was that all an act, too? Did he only put on his game face at the office? If that were true, no wonder Traci had fallen for him. “Do you cook?” she asked.
“A bit.” He took a sip of wine. “This is really delicious. Are you sure you don’t want just a little?”
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”
His face took on a serious expression. “Not even close. I want a willing partner in bed, Harper. Not a drunk one.”
Shit. Guess that’s one question answered. It wasn’t a cat-and-mouse game. He intended to have sex with her tonight. Now if only her traitorous body hadn’t reacted to his words. Her pussy was wet, her clit began to throb, and her nipples tingled. Would he sense her arousal? Did it show on her face or in her eyes?
He put down the wine glass and looked suddenly uncomfortable. “I have to ask you a very personal question, and I’d appreciate it if you’d answer this one right away. It’s important that I know.”
“Okay.” Her pulse raced. What the hell was so damn urgent?
“Are you a virgin?”
Holy fuck. “No.”
He smiled. “Thank goodness.”
“What would you have said if I were?”
He sipped his wine. “I’d have said we needed to approach this a different way.”
“Such as how?”
Ace’s grin should have angered her, but all it did was nearly force a moan from her throat. “Well, specifically, I’d have some work to do in order to make you feel comfortable having sex.”
Two could play this game. “I think I will have some wine, thank you.”
He raised his brows, then rose from his chair and stood way too close to her as he poured the wine into her glass. She glanced up to find him studying her cleavage. “You know, boys in high school did that.”
“I’m sure they did.”
He wasn’t the least bit embarrassed about it.
“What I mean is, you’re a grown man.”
He handed her the glass. “I’m a man, period. We never stop looking.” Ace returned to his seat, and Harper sipped the wine. It was really good, but she had to be careful. One glass was more than enough tonight.
She glanced around to take her mind off the way he now regarded her like a fox might have once watched a chicken coop on the planet’s surface. “Your apartment is beautiful, but just as dark as your office. Why do you like everything so dim?”
“Bright light hurts my eyes.”
A horrible shadow of pain crossed his face, and his voice was clipped and hard. What the hell had happened to him? Before she could ask him to elaborate, he reminded her that she owed him answers to two questions.
“I came here a week out of high school, started classes during the summer term, moved into the dorms, and earned my degrees.”
He chuckled. “That’s it? In six years that’s all you’ve done?”
“I started working for you a year ago.”
He gave her a thoughtful gaze, but said nothing. That was more unnerving than his prying questions.
“I don’t talk about my personal life.”
“Yes, I noticed that. But tonight I want you to.”
“Part of our agreement?”
“Maybe.”
“Ace, I’m not here for that. You’ve made that clear. I can understand why you wanted to know whether I’m a virgin, but as far as the rest of it, it’s not necessary.”
He looked genuinely hurt, and that only confused her. Had she completely misinterpreted his intentions? No. He was sending mixed signals.
He glanced toward the hallway, then leaned closer, and it suddenly occurred to her that his staff were likely listening to every word of this conversation. “This isn’t only about sex.”
His voice was soft. That comment wasn’t meant for anyone’s ears but hers. But that was news to her. “That’s what you implied in your office. That this was about sex.” She spoke equally soft, not wanting to embarrass either of them.
“No, that’s what you inferred.”
She resisted the urge to throw up her hands in frustration. Instead she put down her fork, her appetite now gone. “All right then. Why don’t we talk about the other terms of our agreement? It would help if I knew them. I’m having difficulty interpreting your comments. It feels like you’re giving out mixed signals.”
He sipped his wine, then nodded a few times. “You’re right. It would feel that way to me, too. All right. I do need to outline them. But first tell me why you have trouble accepting compliments.”
“That falls under the category of my personal life that I don’t discuss.”
His sigh was audible, but she didn’t give a shit. “Okay. Can we at least finish our meal first?”
It would be a shame to waste all this good food, so she ate a bit more. When her wine glass was empty, he offered to refill it, but she declined. She needed a clear head tonight. The more glances she snuck at him, the more curious she became. She’d never had an experience like this. Her one sexual encounter had been while she was drunk at a frat party in her sophomore year. She couldn’t tell him that. He’d only laugh and think of her as a silly little schoolgirl.
So while technically she wasn’t a virgin, she barely remembered the experience, other than recalling it had hurt and he’d finished in less than ten seconds. She certainly hoped Ace’s skills were more refined than that.
She knew only as much about his skill in bed as Traci had told her. Once they’d finished the second pitcher that night, Traci had been forthcoming with graphic details of how Ace made love. But considering how drunk Traci had been, there was no telling how accurate her description was.
She wouldn’t tell him that, either. Because then he’d see how curious she was to find out if Traci had been exaggerating. This was totally fucked up. She was waffling so much she made herself dizzy.
“One more question. What’s going on with you and Rob?”
She frown
ed. “Nothing. I met him shortly after I started working for you and didn’t realize right away that he was Traci’s cousin. Apparently she mentioned me to him, and afterward he began hitting on me, but I ignored him.”
Ace’s gaze was sharp and angry. “How often did he hit on you?”
“I don’t know, Ace. I didn’t count. More than once.”
“How long ago was the last time?”
“About six months.”
“If he becomes a problem in your new role, you need to tell me right away. In fact if any of the men give you a hard time, I want you to tell me.”
“Part of our agreement?”
“Yes.” His curt response left no doubt he meant it.
They finished dinner, and Ace resumed his tour of the apartment. She’d taken her glass of lemonade along only to have something to do with her hands. Her pulse raced, and tiny beads of sweat had broken out along her hairline. How the hell could she do this? If she had sex with him, she’d become one more woman in a long line of them. It was nothing to him. Merely another conquest. And she’d never get out of that dingy, depressing row where she now worked.
Once again, the fact that she’d brought this on herself resonated in her mind. No shit. Shut the fuck up already.
What if she apologized and asked him for another chance? Would it work? As he walked along with her, he was pleasant and charming. Not at all like the CEO she’d grown used to. The anger lurking under the surface during dinner was gone, too. He was so easygoing here on his own turf. Or was that part of this? Make her feel secure so she’d be more inclined to go along with him?
Mind reading would be a useful skill right now.
They reached the upper level and had seen every room in it except his bedroom. When he pushed open the doors, she stepped inside and shook her head. It was as decadent and richly appointed as she’d imagined, with the same color wood trimming the doorjambs and windows, and circling the perimeter as both crown molding and baseboard material.
The walls were a pale red that would have looked odd if not for the wooden accents. The carpeting was dark, but she caught flecks of the wall and drapery colors in it. It had to have been decorated professionally. Either that or he had hidden talents in that area.
