by Lori Wilde
Dru couldn’t stop her snort of laughter. Before she could assure the woman that Alex was a vital component to the project’s success, she saw him striding across the restaurant.
“I think you’ll be just as impressed with Dr. Maddow in person as you were on the phone,” Dru demurred, standing so Alex could find them.
“Ladies, you both look lovely this morning,” he said when he reached their table. Dru’s lips twitched. Someone had the charm dial turned to High.
Dru settled back in her chair and smiled, ready to enjoy the show.
An hour later, Dru not only had a tummy filled with the best eggs Benedict she’d ever eaten, but she was totally inspired. She didn’t know whether it was the delicious food, the elegant atmosphere or the fact that Alex kept slyly rubbing his hand over her thigh, but the more he said, the more on board she was with the project.
“Will you excuse me a moment,” Ms. Pownter said when Alex had finished describing the long-term scientific benefits of aligning her name and her organization to Trifecta.
Dru waited until the other woman had cleared the velvet settees before she let the bubbling giggles free. Grinning, she leaned over and rubbed her hand on Alex’s thigh.
“Okay, this is great,” she told him. “The more you talk about the project, the more excited I get.”
“Excited, hmm?”
She tilted her head to the side, her smile turning naughty.
“Very excited,” she murmured, her hand on his thigh changing from enthusiastic to seductive.
“Tell me more.”
She bit her lip, glancing around to make sure nobody was nearby. “The sound of your voice when you talk about gravitational pull sends shivers through my body.”
He caught her free hand, lifting it to his mouth and pressing a warm, moist kiss to her palm. “Tell me more.”
Despite the pleasant tingles his kiss sent over her skin, she pulled her hand away. They’d agreed—well, she’d nagged until he’d given in—that their relationship was to be kept a strict secret.
“The way you spoke, it was pure power. Your confidence, your assurance. Listening to you, I wanted to do anything you asked.” She leaned closer, letting her hand slide higher on his thigh. Her fingernails were within stroking distance of his dick, which from the activity beneath his zipper, looked pretty darned intrigued itself. Her gaze locked on his, her eyes soft and sultry as she whispered, “Anything.”
“More coffee?”
Dru almost jumped out of her chair, her hand flying off Alex’s lap and smacking against the bottom of the table. Eyes watering, she shook her head at the poker-faced waiter, glaring through her tears at Alex’s grin.
“I’ll have half a cup,” Alex said. He waited until the man had moved on before arching a brow. “You were telling me how excited you are?”
Dru took a long and slow breath through her nose, trying to calm herself. But instead, it just filled her senses with the rich aroma of coffee and made her feel a little shaky, as if she was getting a secondhand caffeine buzz. Nerves, she realized. Whether they were the aftermath of this meeting, or the usual sex-induced hyperawareness she usually had around Alex, she wasn’t sure.
“Excited,” she said finally when he started to look at her weird. “Yes. I am excited. Thanks to you.”
He lifted his fresh cup of steaming coffee, his smile turning cocky.
“I wouldn’t have done any of this without your urging,” she told him, gesturing to the dish-strewn table and Charlene Pownter’s jacket. “You push me, Alex. You make me believe I can do…well, anything.”
“You can do anything,” he said in that assured, offhand tone that told her he didn’t even think twice about it.
“I can,” she acknowledged. “I can rock this project. I can woo clients. I can drive you crazy just by telling you how I’m going to use your body after this brunch.”
His dark eyes narrowed as his breath hitched a bit. He shook his head as if he was reminding himself where they were.
“Tell me more about your plans,” he said softly. Leaning back in the chair, he crossed his arms over his chest, looking very smug.
“Don’t let your ego swell,” she teased, a little giddy at the idea that she might have some small power over Alex outside of the bed. Or the desk. Or the car. Or, well, anywhere that might lend itself to being a surface for sex.
“I’m energized by the idea of working with the Pownter Institute,” she admitted, trying to get them both back on track. “I don’t know if it was your compelling presentation or the synchronicity of ideas flowing here at the table. But whatever it was, it hooked me. I’m fully invested now.”
Dru saw Charlene returning.
“I want the Pownter backing,” Dru said, folding both her hands safely in her own lap, but still leaning toward Alex to make her point. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen.”
Amused, she watched his eyes light up with an excitement of his own. After a quick wink, she turned her attention to Charlene.
“Dr. Robichoux, Dr. Maddow, thank you for waiting. I just spoke with my CEO. I’ll admit, I’m intrigued by your proposition. But I’m not sure I can justify such a major financial outlay without the guarantee of success.”
“Charlene,” Alex said with a smile that Dru knew would have melted her own icy walls, but didn’t seem to cause a drip in their potential patron’s. “You’ve spent plenty of years dealing with the art and theory of science. You’ve backed biological research and geological experiments. You’ve built your institute’s reputation on smart choices, yes. But also on well-calculated risks.”
“Very true,” Charlene said, her voice cold enough to make even Dru shiver. She wished she could keep control with such a chilly panache. “The issue at hand, though, isn’t the reputation of my institute. It’s the lack of a guarantee that concerns us.”
Dru bit her lip, the rich hollandaise suddenly churning in her stomach. Well, this wasn’t good. She twisted her fingers together, trying to marshal some kind of convincing argument. But her brain was horribly blank. Her nerves had gotten the better of her.
“Charlene, there are no guarantees in science,” Alex pointed out in a reasonable, somewhat amused tone. As if he was verbally rolling his eyes at the woman’s caution. Dru wasn’t sure if she should thank him or kick him.
“You’ve seen the prospectus, as well as our hypothesis and outlines. Our theory is solid. The reputation of Trifecta is unquestionable. The real question here is how confident you feel in the team, wouldn’t you say?”
Hazy spots flashed in front of Dru’s eyes. She tried to breathe through the sudden tightness in her chest. Her entire career spun behind her eyes in paranoid flashes.
Alex shot her that arch-browed look of challenge. The same look that’d snookered her into surfing. The one that’d tempted her into beachside sex. The exact look that’d sent her dancing around a bonfire, naked. Then later, had convinced her to go along with his putting his damn rock-star twist on her cosmic string project.
Which had brought her to this moment, right here and now in the elegant Garden Court restaurant, sitting opposite one of the wealthiest women in the country, betting the success of her entire career on this pitch.
She hated that freaking irresistible look.
“Ms. Pownter,” she started, her mind racing.
“Charlene,” Alex said, his charming smile smothering Dru’s rescue attempt before she even got started. “We’ve all been around long enough to have seen a slew of improvable or untenable hypotheses. Oh, sure, they sound great in the beginning. The theory is plausible. The findings are valid. The data and methodology stand up well to scrutiny. But…”
“But?” Dru and Charlene said together.
Alex’s smile was pure male satisfaction. The same one he’d worn that time he’d made Dru come three times, then had her begging to go down on him with chocolate sauce.
“But as you know, a scientific endeavor, no matter how sound or intriguing, ofte
n makes as much impact in the world as a used tissue. No amount of awards, kudos or acclaim can make it interesting to the general public.”
Dru’s jaw sagged. Her gaze whipped over to their potential patron, who was calmly sipping her coffee with a look of placid interest, aka, boredom.
Well this whole deal was obviously going to hell. Dru was pretty sure reaching over and smacking Alex upside the head couldn’t hurt things any worse. Curling her itching fingers into her palm to keep her hand in check, she raised her own brow, inclined her head and unable to help herself, asked, “And what exactly does this fascinating assessment of the sciences have to do with our project, Dr. Maddow?”
His grin widened and he gave her a proud look, as if she was a prize pupil who’d just asked the perfect question.
“The achievement we’re looking for here isn’t just proving the string hypothesis, although that’s admittedly an integral key to our success. The bigger goal is, of course, to garner fame, attention and a financial return from a larger segment of society than just fellow scientists.”
Dru sighed. Here we go, she thought. The introductory bars to Mr. Rock-Star Scientist’s theme song.
“There’s actually a specific key to making that happen,” Alex said. “That key is all about people. The people on the team, the people promoting the project and the people following its progress. The Pownter Institute understands spin. And there’s nothing more spinable than the lady in charge of this project.”
Alex and Charlene both turned their heads to stare at Dru. She opened her mouth to ask “huh?” then closed it again, realizing a dense display of cluelessness would probably derail Alex’s pitch.
A pitch that had just gotten very interesting. For the next ten minutes, Dru had to use every icy technique she’d ever learned to keep her cool. Alex talked her up. Alex talked her down. He trotted out her degrees, every paper she’d ever published, and waxed poetic on her theoretical skills. By the time he wound up his dissertation on her wonderfulness, Dru was blown away.
Oh, sure, she was impressed with how great he made her sound. And that he knew so much about her. The man had obviously done more homework than just what flavor body oils she preferred.
But what really got her was that he was making this all about her. The woman whose own mother had so many doubts about her ability to succeed that she kept a bedroom ready in case Dru needed to move home.
He’d totally focused on her. It was as if he was pinning the entire success of the project on her abilities. Given that his was a much bigger name than hers was, it was a huge testament to his faith in her.
Dru was pretty sure she actually felt her heart melt. Lips pressed together to keep from grinning like a fool, she stared down at her hands while struggling to regain control.
Had anyone ever said anything so wonderful about her? Understood her so well? And he did understand her. Not just the sexual side of her, although he was definitely scoring top marks there. But the real her.
Dru sighed, dropping her eyes to her half-filled glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice and blinking rapidly. She’d never felt anything like this before. Her entire body was tingly and warm. Her heart was beating so fast, she could feel it all the way to the tips of her hair.
She was either catching the flu, or she had just tumbled over insanity’s edge and fallen in love.
ALEX FOLLOWED DRUCILLA into her office, sinking into one of the uncomfortably rickety chairs, and draped his arm over the hard wood back.
He watched her carefully shut the door behind him. Then in the mellowest of ways, she sucked in a deep breath, gave a silent scream and did a funny wiggly dance in place. He grinned at how her arms waved, all out of sync with the tempting swivel of her hips.
Well, someone was certainly happy with the results of their meeting, wasn’t she?
“What’d you think?” he asked needlessly, wincing at the tight knots still pinching his shoulders. He wished he knew why he was so tense. He’d rocked the pitch, not only sold Ms. Pownter on the project, but laid the groundwork for her to accept working with Drucilla after he left. Total success, right?
His stiff shoulders argued otherwise.
Luckily, before he could force himself to examine the tension too closely, Drucilla stopped wiggling to smooth her palms over her hips, lift her chin, then cross the room. With pseudo calm, she tucked her purse into a desk drawer then folded her deliciously long body into the chair opposite his.
“I thought it was a good meeting, didn’t you?” she said, leaning forward to place her folded hands on her tidy desk blotter and giving him a placid look. Then she giggled and clapped her hands together.
“No, no. It was amazing,” she exclaimed, before he could respond. “You should get the science-salesman-of-the-year award. I mean, you know I wasn’t totally on board with the expansion. The money, the publicity, the commitment. They add so much pressure, so many additional expectations. And no room for error.”
He nodded. After all, she’d been giving him that argument on a daily basis for the last week and a half.
“But now? Now,” she said, slapping one of her hands on her desk and sending the blotter spinning sideways, “I’m hooked. I’m so totally committed to this and so totally excited.”
And so she was. Energy was practically radiating off her in waves.
“And Charlene Pownter? Man, that woman is an inspiration. She’s so together and focused and, well, successful. I had a great time talking with her. Seriously? I want to be her when I grow up. I’d love working with her, learning from her. So what do you think?” she asked, practically bouncing in her chair. “Do you think we have a shot?”
“You were there for a great deal more of it than I was, so you tell me.”
He hadn’t intended the words to sound like an accusation. But the idea of Drucilla being mentored by Charlene Pownter made his blood run cold. Or maybe it was the image he’d been entertaining for the last two days, of Drucilla, happy and successful when he was gone. Of her exploring her burgeoning confidence with a whole new breed of science guys. Maybe it was the ache in his gut at the idea of leaving her. Or even the lesser ache of knowing he’d soon be giving up a project he found intriguing and challenging.
Whatever it was, it was only adding another layer of knots to his already tense shoulders.
From her big-eyed look, she was just as surprised at his tone as he was.
“She was already seated when I arrived, so we started chatting,” she said slowly. “I’m always early, you know that. It was just one of the many ways Charlene and I discovered we’re alike.”
Charlene. Weren’t they all buddy-buddy? Alex didn’t like the idea of Drucilla admiring Charlene Pownter quite so much. Yes, the woman was wealthy and determined and successful. Which would be great for the project. But on a personal level, the woman was an ice queen. Totally dedicated to her career, first and last. Exactly the kind of woman Olympia Robichoux would like her daughter to be.
And exactly the kind of woman Drucilla wasn’t. Drucilla definitely didn’t need chill lessons. She needed fun and encouragement. Support and laughter. To believe in her own talents, but to be willing to take risks and push her own boundaries.
In other words, she needed him. But he wasn’t going to be around for long, he reminded himself again.
“Don’t get too attached to the idea of working with her,” he warned, realizing he’d let his ambition overshadow what was best for Drucilla. He’d been eager to stick a big ole feather in his cap, to impress his grandfather. But not at Drucilla’s expense.
“The Pownter Institute requires a longer commitment than Trifecta might be willing to make,” he said. “They’re going to hold you to higher standards and more rigorous scrutiny than Buck Blackstone would. Charlene Pownter will be more demanding, more exacting than the government grant. She’s going to push every one of your buttons.”
Her smile fell away. She tilted her head, giving him a searching look, clearly trying to find the reason fo
r his angry undertone.
Alex wanted to tell her to clue him in when she figured it out. All he knew was that there was some kind of fury churning in his gut and a headache the size of a small island pounding in his brain.
“Is something bothering you?” she asked with a direct look that said she wanted an answer, she expected it to be the truth and he’d damn well better spit it out quickly.
He loved that Drucilla the scientist was so strong and straight to the point. Much like Drucilla the hot, sexy fairy princess was in bed.
Which pretty much made her the perfect woman.
Perfect temporary woman, he corrected quickly. Because he was a short-term kind of guy. Between his career, his genetics and his upbringing, he couldn’t be anything else.
And that, he realized as he stared into her eyes, noting the hurt lurking in their indigo depths, was the real issue. He needed to get out of here before he did actual damage.
“I’m sorry, Drucilla.” What they had might be short-term, but she was special. Really special. The kind of woman who made a guy think he could actually turn it all around and stick things out.
He winced at the panicky need to run clutching his gut and told himself to chill out. After all, Drucilla knew this was temporary. It wasn’t as if she was expecting anything other than the launch of the project and a few really awesome months of intense sex.
“I’m just a little edgy lately,” he explained.
Her eyes drifted over his body, as potent as a caress. She ran her tongue along her lower lip, then caught it between those straight white teeth. Alex wanted to climb across the desk and bite that lip himself.
“Edgy? Why?” she asked, her tone husky, her eyes inviting. The look was enough to make him think that maybe, this time, she’d lift her no-kissing-and-definitely-no-sex-in-the-office ban. “I’m sure you’re not having any worries about the scope of the proposal. Did you want to analyze the current data? Maybe over dinner? If we bring our notes, it’ll look like it’s just business and nobody will question us.”
And then there was that. Alex clenched his teeth, frustrated that for Drucilla, it always came back to work. He knew he should be more understanding. After all, his career was definitely one of his top priorities. He even understood her reasons for not wanting to give the gossips anything to spread. But did she have to act as if she was embarrassed to be seen with him?
