His jaw clenched. “Because he left you alone for too long. He should know better, Alyssa.”
“Mr. Mayor!” a voice rang out.
In a flash, Jonathan’s smile was back, his gaze once again guarded. “I need to speak to you after the party.” Then he was gone, swallowed up by the crowds. Her mouth fell half-open like a guppy, and a terrible, aching emptiness flooded her insides as if just the nearness of his body heat had filled her from within.
What the hell just happened?
She had no time to process because Paul materialized by her side. “Okay, networking done. You still officially on the clock, or can you take a break?”
Jonathan’s words still echoed in her ears. The sexy, almost commanding comment made her toes curl in her sensible shoes. Desperate to finally feel something with anyone but her boss, she determinedly linked her arm through Paul’s and forced a smile. “Yes, let’s take a walk and get a drink. I need a breather.”
He seemed pleased as he guided her across the room. The tall columns and stacks of books surrounding her bore silent witness to the lie she was already beginning to form. That maybe Paul would be the guy to get her to stop thinking about the mayor.
She hoped. But, unfortunately, she knew the answer already.
* * * *
The guy was no threat.
At least, not yet.
Jonathan recognized his arrogant thought without flinching and realized that the relief unfurling in his gut was a sign. He’d watched them throughout the evening with eagle-eyed precision, searching for any intimate gestures. Oh, she’d touched the guy many times, causing a primitive surge of testosterone to rear its ugly head inside him, but there wasn’t even a hint of chemistry between the two. She hadn’t tipped up her head and treated him to that half-smile she flashed when she became amused. There was no adorable frown between her brows when she spoke, which told Jonathan that she wasn’t challenged by any of their conversations. She didn’t lean in when they stood side by side, and seemed more interested in doing her job than trying to build a connection.
The knowledge that he still hadn’t lost her shattered the last of his control. These past weeks, he’d been desperately fighting his growing need for more. The look on her face when she’d stared at him half-undressed hinted at a deeper attraction and emotion he’d never dreamt of. Was it possible she was just as good as he was at hiding her true feelings? They’d spent multiple late nights alone together. Constantly worked side by side. But he’d been ruthless about keeping any type of personal relationship separate. Dear God, in a way, he knew nothing about her. Not her parents or upbringing. Not her hopes and dreams or even if she had any. She kept herself locked behind a wall, refusing to give him anything. And for the past two years, it’d been exactly what he wanted.
Until now.
Every voice in his head screamed at him to back off. He’d been so careful to keep himself in check and avoid any type of romantic entanglements at work. Nothing good could come of opening Pandora’s Box. Even if they both copped to having an attraction, the pitfalls of this type of relationship were not merely stumbling blocks. They were complete dead-ends.
Yet…
He ached to try. If she rejected his advances, he’d leave her alone. He’d had enough practice locking up his emotions over the years, and he’d never put her in an uncomfortable position. He respected her way too much for that bullshit.
Since Catherine had died, no women had stirred his desire. He’d refused to date, happy to settle in to his full-time lover—work. But Alyssa was different. His interest and emotions had grown steadily, until one day, it felt as if he’d been moving toward her the entire time. He just hadn’t been prepared for it.
She appeared at the top of the stairs. Her cocktail dress was conservative and black, a polished number that screamed respectable yet elegant, the hem past the knee. There were no fuck-me shoes, just plain leather pumps with a low heel. Her hair remained up in a tight bun, but it only emphasized the softness of her features—the gentle curve of her cheek, the stubborn chin, and those pursed lips that gleamed wetly from her rose-colored gloss. He loved that she changed for nobody and didn’t seem interested in the normal trappings of the female persuasion. God knew she didn’t need any help being the sexiest woman in the room. Her brain was the biggest turn-on of all.
A wispy longing rose up inside him. He ached to have the right to touch her. To slide his fingers into hers, yank, and have her soft body collapse against his chest. He imagined unpinning the knot from her hair and burying his hands in the silky blond strands. Burned to experience the imprint of her full lips under his, opening to the thrust of his tongue, hips arched and begging for a release she wanted only from—
“Mr. Mayor?” She tipped her head and treated him to an appraising stare behind her tortoiseshell glasses. “You needed to see me?”
He swallowed past the sudden knot in his throat and shot his cuffs. “Yes. I realize it’s late, but I had some concerns regarding the latest budget expenditures. I’m out of the office tomorrow. Do you have an hour to go over it?”
She paused. He could practically hear her brain clicking madly over the spreadsheets she’d probably memorized. Her skill with accounting and budgets had made him weep with pure relief. “Yes. But I thought it’d been finalized.”
“So did I, but I spoke with some board members at Devons’ function, and there was pushback on some of the funding. I need to re-allocate.”
She nodded. “Of course. I already said good-bye to Paul. Let’s go.”
He escorted her into the back of the car. The clean scent of cotton filled his nostrils, both comforting and arousing. Her dress hitched a few inches higher, revealing a smooth, bare knee. No stockings. He imagined what type of panties she wore. Fantasized about sliding his hand under that very proper fabric and discovering—
He jerked himself out of the daydream and cleared his throat. “Did you enjoy the party?”
“Yes.”
He tried not to smile at her brief answers. She rarely elaborated, and he liked to push at certain subjects, deciding what he wanted more detail on. The dynamic worked well for them. “Cam did well.”
“I’m glad you came. Seeing you makes him happy. And the shirt was a big hit.”
He winced. “Didn’t realize I’d have a camera crew following me around. I’ll probably get hit with another round of people accusing me of mugging for election publicity.”
She gave an elegant shrug. “You didn’t do it for that purpose. At this point, you need to be clear on what you’re doing for PR and for yourself. As long as you know the difference, it will be fine.”
He shook his head. “Who taught you to be so diplomatic? You’ve always been able to cut through the bullshit and see things most don’t. Are your parents just as sharp?”
She gazed at him with a touch of surprise. He realized it was the first real personal question he’d asked her since Paul. Two in one night. No wonder she was off-kilter. She answered slowly as if picking her words carefully. “Smart, yes. But nothing like me. They’re much more…colorful.”
He wanted to ask more, but they’d reached his townhouse. She peered out the window. “Wait, I thought we were going to the office.”
He watched her closely. “My home is closer, and I have all the files on my laptop. But if you feel more comfortable, I can have Tim drive us to City Hall.”
His palms started to sweat like a teen while he analyzed the emotions that flickered over her face. If he sensed real discomfort, he was ready to turn the car back around. He wanted her in his home, surrounded by his personal things so he could begin chipping away at the barrier between them. But the wall had to come down because they both wanted it.
“No, I’m good,” she said.
He relaxed. “Thank you, Tim. If you can, please wait for when Alyssa needs to be driven home.”
“Of course, sir. Have a good night.”
They made their way into the brownstone where he’d resided for the past fe
w years. He’d moved out of his last place after Catherine passed and settled in for the past five years as first the DA, and then the mayor. It had the hushed elegance of old money and was situated on a prominent street, but the inside wasn’t pretentious. Instead, it was decorated with a modern simplicity he liked, especially as a single man.
Alyssa had been to his house many times, but usually only to drop off files or share in a brief discussion amidst frantic appointments. Tonight, there was a deeper quiet that permeated the space as he walked to the kitchen, shedding his jacket and flipping it over the espresso leather sectional. “I’ll bring out my laptop, take a seat,” he called out, letting her take a moment to settle. “Can I get you a drink? I have a nice cabernet open.”
“Sure.”
He grabbed two glasses and filled them a quarter full, then pulled out some chunk cheese, Triscuits, and grapes. Arranging everything onto a plate, he carried out the snack and set it on the glass table where he ate most of his meals while he worked. “I know you’re starving,” he said with a smile. “No one ever gets enough to eat at those fancy functions. Help yourself.”
“Thanks.”
She picked up the wine and swirled the glass absently before taking a deep sniff. “Are you a wine connoisseur?” he asked curiously.
“No. But you really taste the wine with your nose first. And the swirling of the glass means nothing. I just do it because it’s fun.”
He cocked his head. “I thought it tested the legs.”
“The legs don’t tell you if a wine is good or not. It just tells you if it has a high amount of alcohol. If you cover the glass, the legs disappear. See.” She demonstrated. “Just a weird fact.”
“Interesting.” He retrieved his laptop, then sat down in one of the leather dining seats that matched his sectional. “So, we got interrupted. Why do you believe your parents are more colorful than you?”
Her fingers jerked over the cracker, telling him she was surprised he’d continued with their conversation. He watched her stack a cube of cheese on top, then pluck a grape from the bunch. She placed them into her mouth with precision. She attacked every activity with a slow, deliberate purpose that drove some people nuts, but completely turned him on.
“They’re both actors,” she finally said after chewing and swallowing. “Colorful is a kind word to describe them. Let’s just say they believe the world is a stage, and live their lives that way.”
Shock hit him. He would’ve imagined she’d grown up in a household of accountants, computer techs, or teachers. He leaned in, fascinated. “How was it living with them?”
A small noise left her throat. Sort of a ladylike snort. “Complicated. We traveled a lot—they were known to take jobs all over the world—so there was little stability. They believed in expressing their opinions loudly, and our house of the moment was always filled with starving artists with no money and many good intentions.” Shadows fell across her face, but she avoided his gaze so he couldn’t tell how she really felt. “They were never boring.”
Her carefully phrased statements about her parents told him what he needed. “It must’ve been very hard to be so different,” he said softly.
“Sometimes. We didn’t understand each other, but I know they tried. I only wanted my books, my computer, and my private space. I loved school and libraries and did my best to stay away from the chaos of the theater. They hated institutions that provided, as they said, robotic thoughts and a narrow view on society, so they used to keep me away from school a lot. Said I’d get a real education experiencing life. I used to think I was adopted.”
He raised a brow. “Were you?”
“No. All children spin that fantasy when they don’t get along with their parents. I was no different.” She took another cracker, made a duplicate mini sandwich, and popped it into her mouth.
“When I was mad at my parents, I used to pray I’d get really sick,” he said. “I planned to end up in the hospital—near death, of course—so they’d beg for my forgiveness. Then I’d get anything I wanted for the rest of my life because they were so grateful I survived.”
There it was.
Her lips curved, and he caught the light pop in her big, brown eyes. “Another popular childhood fantasy.”
“Did you have any siblings?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Just me and endless aunts and uncles of the theater.”
“When did you finally get to pursue your own dream of college?”
“I left them when I was nineteen. Took my GED, applied to the local community college, and got a job working as a secretary. I taught myself to type and did the bills at home and for the current theater project they were involved in, so I had some skills. The rest was easy.”
She sipped at the wine, taking her time with the balance and flavor as she let it settle over her tongue and slip down her throat. He shifted in the chair, the heat suddenly strangling him. She was so damn sexy and had no clue. It made it so much harder not to touch her.
“How easy?” he asked.
“I got As, scored a scholarship to Cornell, then came to the city for a more interesting career.”
“Do you see your parents often?”
He wondered when she’d stop answering his questions. He was greedy for anything she’d share, but for now, she seemed open to talking. “No, but we chat on the phone, and when they came here last year for an off-off-Broadway play, they stayed with me for a week. We’re happier when we’re apart. Our personalities just never matched, but we love each other. We’re family.”
Her simple acceptance of her life humbled him. He knew she was no whiner, but it was more than that. She seemed to know who she was to the core and made no apologies—even to her parents. That type of strength and feminine confidence pulled at him. The man she took into her inner circle would be the luckiest bastard on Earth.
God, he wanted it to be him.
“Thank you for telling me,” he finally said, content to let what she gave him be enough. “I guess I realized we spend all this time together, but I knew nothing about your personal life.” Had he seemed greedy for information? Maybe it was better to ease off in case she was uncomfortable? “It’s nice to learn more about your important employees.”
She stiffened, and the wall slammed back up. “Our work relationship doesn’t warrant personal,” she said coolly. “And I don’t need to be another of your charities, Mr. Mayor. The way things have been between us has been just fine.”
He blinked, caught off guard. “Wait, what did I say wrong? And you know it pisses me off when you don’t use my name.”
Her chin tilted up, and she gave him a cutting glare over the frame of her glasses. “Excuse me if I’m suspicious regarding your sudden interest in me. Are you concerned I won’t stick with you when you move on to governor? Are you experiencing guilt that you don’t know your team well enough to count on their loyalty? Forgive me if I don’t feel like being your first experiment in the heart-to-heart sharing segment. We should move on now.”
His head spun. Oh, he’d pegged this all wrong. He’d wanted to give her space, but now she believed his interest in her was only to strengthen their bond from a work standpoint. Apparently, she had no clue his motivations were strictly personal. That he wanted to get to know her as a woman—not his assistant. He shouldn’t have used the term employee.
He hesitated, not sure how much to give her before she spooked. “Alyssa, I’m sorry if that came out wrong. My questions had nothing to do with work, or the election, or making you feel happier in your job. I simply want to know you better.”
She stared at him, and the air grew thick between them. “Why?”
Her direct question deserved a candid answer. “Because I really like you. More than you know.”
He wanted to duck his head like a schoolboy to avoid her reaction, but he forced himself to hold her gaze and take the hit. Her pupils dilated, and a flush crept up her neck, flooding her cheeks. He wasn’t surprised at the slight shoc
k as she retreated—he’d been expecting it. No, he dreaded the distaste or embarrassment or panic that might occur, and he swore to back off if he caught any of it.
Instead, he watched the blush deepen, and her lips part, and the slam of a fierce hunger glint from behind those glasses. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for her wine and took a long swig, past caring about delicacy.
That’s when he realized she wanted him, too.
His heart slammed hard and fast like a contractor with a jackhammer. The rush of relief was paired with the knowledge that she might turn away from him anyway. Hell, she was probably smart to get up, leave his place, and slam the door behind her, choosing to ignore his comment.
She set the glass down and dared to look at him. “I see.”
He waited for more, but she seemed to be done. He fought a smile. Typical. He had women falling all over him every day, but Alyssa could care less. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. You have every right to stop this conversation from going further, and I won’t mention it again.”
That adorable frown resurfaced. “I know that.”
“Good. What do you think?”
“I think this is a dangerous conversation.” She gave a tiny sigh. “I think you’ve always been clear about what you want in the office, and that’s no entanglements.”
“You’re right. But after spending two years with you? I’ve changed my mind,” he said simply.
She shook her head. “Tonight. Because you saw me with a date. Right?”
He didn’t like where she was going with this. “Well, yes.”
“I’ve seen plenty of RomComs, Jonathan. Working assistant is ignored by her boss. She shows up with a hot guy at a party, then boss gets a lightbulb moment he may have made a mistake by disregarding her as a woman, so he begins pursuit, convinced she was always the one. Textbook. I’m sure if you sleep on it, you’ll change your mind in the morning and realize we should remain status quo.”
He stared at her, torn between laughter and frustration. “You think I’m following a romantic comedy? Alyssa, I’ve been thinking of you in more ways than as my assistant for a while now. I just didn’t want to push in case you weren’t interested. I didn’t want you to feel awkward or pressured and ruin the best thing I’ve ever had.”
Something Just Like This Page 4
