“Hey, I’m just glad you feel comfortable enough with me to talk about these things. Like I said, I want to know you, warts and all.”
She looked up into his smiling coffee eyes. “I don’t have any warts.”
“Well, how would I know that? They could be in places I haven’t seen...” His voice trailed off as he swept his heated, appreciative gaze over her body.
She started to yell at him for being so fresh, but the sparkle in his eyes made her laugh instead. She gently punched him in the shoulder. Even the small impact with the solid mass of muscle hurt her fist. “Ow!”
He chuckled. “Stop abusing me.” He stretched back in the chair, putting his arms behind his head. “You’ll reveal those treasures to me when the time comes. I won’t pressure you.”
The very idea of slipping her clothes off in the presence of this man made her cheeks, and her core, fill with a familiar heat. Treasures? The way he’d referred to her body and all its parts made her feel decidedly special. Then again, who knew? That could be a line he used on a regular basis.
Either way, nothing’s going to come of it...we’re coworkers. “Do you say that to all your girls?”
“I don’t date very much,” he replied, “and when I do, I much prefer women, like you, to girls. I haven’t had a steady girlfriend...” He appeared thoughtful for a moment. “Since ninety-nine.”
“What? You haven’t dated since then?”
“I’ve taken a few ladies out for drinks, but nothing ever came of it.” He turned the question on her. “I bet you’re forever beating guys off with a stick.”
“Not really. But I do seem to attract a wide variety of jerks and perverts.”
“Oh, really?”
“Well, let’s see. In the past six months, I’ve dated three guys. The first one was married and didn’t think I needed to know. The second guy seemed a little too eager to marry and ‘merge’ our assets, and the third tried to get me to participate in a threesome on our first date. What do you think?”
“Wow. I think I’m lucky I coaxed you into coming here.”
“You’re damn right.”
“Don’t worry. Your crazy-guy streak is over. I’m sane as they come.”
“That’s good to know, but we’re not going down that path, remember?”
“Hey, Eve!” Lina’s voice broke into the conversation.
She turned around, and to her surprise, saw her friend standing over the table, holding hands with Rashad. “What’s up?”
“The singer and I are cutting out of here. Will you be okay without me?”
“Yeah. I’ll be fine.” Eve waved to her.
“Later, chica.” Lina turned to leave, with Rashad close behind her.
“Bye, Darius,” he called. “It was nice meeting you, Eve.”
And then the pair drifted out into the night.
Darius motioned for the check and paid it, while Eve tried to avoid his eyes. They were too intense, too inviting.
He rose from the table, gallantly extending his hand to her. “You ready to call it a night? Don’t want to keep you out too late.”
Nodding, she stood and took his hand, and he led her out into the muggy night air.
She unlocked the door of her car, and he grabbed the handle. As Darius opened the door, she stepped in.
“Good night, Eve. I’ll give you a call.”
“Good night, Darius.”
After the door closed, she waved to Darius, standing on the sidewalk, bathed in the light flowing from the restaurant.
Where is this headed?
Chapter 8
Sitting on the balcony adjoining her bedroom, Eve sipped from a cup of coffee. She stared off into the distance at the sky, painted with the remnants of sunrise. She’d spent the night tossing and turning, her thoughts alternating between worries about her father and worries about the growing attraction she felt to Darius. Now, she’d given up, and come outside to enjoy the early-morning breeze, hoping it would help clear her head.
A beautiful day dawned over the Queen City, and the songs of cardinals and blue jays filled the air around her. A few yards away, the gardener trimmed the topiary display around her fountain. The bounty of every blessing she’d been given lay out before her, and she couldn’t help thinking it was mostly due to her father’s hard work. That sent a twinge of pain through her.
She put down the empty mug on the wrought-iron table and walked back into her bedroom. As she shuffled into her closet to pick out an outfit for the day, the shrill ringing of her cell phone jarred her. Retrieving it from her nightstand, she answered.
“Hello?”
“Eve. It’s Mama. You need to get down to the hospital. They’ve figured out what’s wrong with your father.”
Eve’s breath caught in her throat for a moment. I wonder how serious it is? “Okay. I’ll be there soon.”
Ending the call, she went back to the closet. Choosing a pair of dark denim jeans and a comfortable sunny-yellow blouse, she dressed quickly. Jamming her feet into ballet flats, she ran downstairs.
At the entrance of Carolinas Medical Center, Eve made her way to the door. After stopping at the desk to get her father’s room number, she headed down the quiet corridor, following the green line painted on the shiny linoleum floor. The antiseptic smell of hospital disinfectant wafted past her nose. Taking an elevator to the fourth floor, she followed the red line until she came to the room where Louise waited at her father’s bedside.
“Hi, Mom. I got here as fast as I could.”
“Hi, baby. He’s been asking for you,” Louise said, gesturing to Joseph, who lay in the bed.
She eased across the room to her father. “Hi, Daddy,” she whispered, looking into his heavy, but smiling eyes. “How do you feel?”
“I’m all right,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m just ready to get out of this bed, and out of this hospital before I go stir-crazy.”
She chuckled, then turned to her mother. “So, where’s the doctor?”
“He got a page,” Louise replied. “He should be back in the next few minutes.”
Nodding, she swung her eyes back to her father. “You gave us quite a scare, Daddy. From now on, I want you to take good care of yourself. And follow the doctor’s orders. And—”
“I know, I know.” Joseph groaned. “Don’t make me listen to that again. I just got that same lecture this morning from your mother.”
“Good morning, Miss Franklin.” A deep male voice cut into their conversation.
All eyes turned toward the door, where a young, black man in a lab coat stood. He carried a clipboard, and a manila folder stuffed with all manner of paper.
“Good morning, Doctor...”
“Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Dr. Granger, and I’m on the cardiology team.” He crossed the room and extended his hand to her and she shook it. “Dr. Crump is on vacation, so I took on your father’s case a few days ago.”
“Nice to meet you.” She smiled. “So what can you tell us about Dad’s condition?”
“Well, as I told your mother earlier, we’re concerned that he might have suffered a stroke. Upon performing several tests, we’ve found evidence of what we call a transient ischemic attack, or TIA.”
“What on earth is that?” Louise asked, her voice bursting with concern.
“It means that something temporarily cut off blood flow to a part of the brain. In Mr. Franklin’s case, it was a small blood clot that’s now dislodged itself.”
“How did this happen?” She looked at her father, drifting back to sleep. “It seemed so sudden.”
“Several risk factors can lead to TIA,” Dr. Granger continued, “In this case, we blame atherosclerosis, or hardening of the arteries. Now, I know this all sounds very serious, and it is. From now
on, Joseph is at higher risk for having an actual stroke. I’ll prescribe him several medications and put him on a special diet to ease the stress on his body by reducing his cholesterol intake.” He jotted notes on a piece of paper attached to his clipboard. “That being said, I’m going to allow you ladies to take him home. Do you have any questions for me?”
“How can we prevent him from having a stroke, or getting worse?”
“The medications will help, but aren’t guaranteed to prevent a stroke,” Dr. Granger explained. “A lot will depend on Joseph. If he is willing to rest, take his prescriptions and follow my orders, I think he will recover. It will take time, though. Anything else?”
Louise shook her head, never taking her eyes off her snoring husband. “No, thank you very much, Doctor.”
With a smile and a wave, the young doctor departed, leaving the two women to watch over the man they both loved. Silence reigned in the room, broken by the sounds of the heart rate monitor attached to her father. She stroked his forehead before kissing it, then took her mother’s hand.
“Mama, is there anything I can do?”
“No, baby. I’ll take care of your father. I’ll bring in a nurse to make sure he’s doing what he’s supposed to.”
“Mama, I can take some time off. I can help you—”
Louise shook her head. “You know good and well where your father wants you to be. Behind the desk at FTI, helping Darius run things there.”
“But, Mama...”
“Don’t ‘but Mama’ me, Eve. That company is his baby. We bought it on the verge of bankruptcy, and he made it more successful than ever. There’s no one else he trusts to take care of things. You’ve got to be there—I won’t be able to get him to rest otherwise.”
She acquiesced, releasing a heavy sigh. “All right, Mama. If you think that’s best.”
“I know it’s best.”
“I’ve got to get over to the office, then,” she said. “I’ll call you later to check on him, okay?”
Louise smiled. “I’ll call you, if I need you. Focus on running that company. It’s yours now, after all.”
She’s right. As his sole heir, when Joseph passed away, or became unable to run FTI, the company and all its holdings would be transferred to her. In a matter of days, she would be the real-life, full-fledged owner of a large software company with offices in Charlotte, London and Japan. The realization of all the responsibility that would come with the title rocked her. She kissed her mother on the cheek in parting and left the room.
Am I really ready to take this on?
Then there was the question of Darius. He would be running the company for the foreseeable future, so there was no way for her to avoid him—unless she could quickly get ready to take on the job herself. The members of the board would make that decision, so it was out of her hands. She pressed her fingertips to her temples, feeling a headache coming on. It was all too much to think about.
* * *
Darius sat behind Mr. Franklin’s big mahogany desk, going through a stack of paperwork. So many things required his attention. Looking over the work that lay before him, he had to admit his role was a little more complex than he’d expected. Everyone needed his signature or approval on one thing or another. This “business” side of things had led to his burnout with the software industry. It would definitely take some getting used to, after spending the past several years in blissful retirement. He reclined the leather executive chair, stretched his arms behind his head.
At least the view’s nice.
And not just the one of the city outside the window. Eve sat on the plush dark brown sofa across from him, poring over her own pile of papers. He’d asked her to come up earlier to help him navigate the minefield of office politics and attack his mounting workload. Since she now owned FTI, she’d relinquished her duties as CFO. Her only job now was to keep him from screwing up.
She’s all mine, so to speak. If only that applied outside the office.
He watched the graceful way her fingers plied the keys of her laptop, the pencil she held between her glossy lips and the loose wisp of her hair that she kept pushing out of her face. Her honey skin tone was accentuated by the light purple sleeveless dress she wore. The dress hugged her curves in all the right places. He especially enjoyed the slight swell of her cleavage visible above the neckline, where a tiny gold cross hung from a chain.
The woman was temptation personified. He needed her around, but she didn’t make it easy to concentrate.
“Do you want to talk, Eve?”
She barely looked up from the computer. “About what?”
“About your father’s wishes, what he’d want me to do. Since he’s not coming back, I’ve got to get the information from you.”
Still typing away, she said, “I know he wants this company run with integrity and transparency. The only other thing he wanted was to keep it in the family, but I ruined that for him, didn’t I?”
The bitter tone of her last few words wasn’t lost on him. “Eve, don’t beat yourself up.”
Tears she refused to shed stood sparkling in the corners of her eyes. “Don’t start getting in my business, Darius. That’s not included in your job description.”
He shook his head. What a piece of work. Here he was trying to be sensitive and she was snapping at him again. “Excuse me, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
She looked directly at him, her eyes filled with defiance. “I’m fine. I’m a grown woman, and I don’t need babysitting.”
Drawing in a breath, Darius went back to his desk. He thought he was getting somewhere with her, but she remained as guarded as when they’d first met.
She looked as furious as a plucked hen, as his grandmother Ma Beaulah used to say, but he had no idea why. Knowing further conversation would only frustrate him, he resigned to concentrate on the pile of work on his desk for now.
That didn’t mean he was giving up, though. Beneath all that sass, there lay a vulnerable woman. He was determined to reveal her and redirect all her fire and passion in a manner they would both enjoy.
Chapter 9
Eve entered the FTI building, crossing the lobby toward the elevators. Stepping into the car, she started to hit the button for the eleventh floor. Finger in midair, she remembered... Damn... I’m going to the twelfth floor.
Shaking her head, she punched the correct button, then leaned against the car’s back wall as the doors closed.
When they opened again on the twelfth floor, Darius stood a few feet away, talking to his secretary. He wore a coal-black suit with subtle dark gray pinstripes running through it. The suit, along with the light gray shirt beneath it, fit him well but still stretched across his broad, muscular shoulders. His beard was trimmed neatly, framing his full, soft lips. He looked so handsome, it made her eyes hurt and her nipples tighten beneath her blouse.
The man is made of sexy.
She stepped off the elevator car, head down, hoping to dash by him unnoticed.
As soon as she passed him, she heard him call, “Good morning, Eve.”
Not wanting to be rude, she stopped, and turned to face him. “Good morning, Mr. Winstead.”
“Hey, you’re the owner. Technically, I work for you, so would you just call me Darius?” His easy smile brightened the room.
She nodded, and continued on toward the owner’s office she now occupied. He followed her, his long legs easily matching her step for step.
“I know you said you want to keep this on a professional level,” he drawled, so near she could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck. “But I’m not sure I can do that.”
Staring straight ahead to avoid his chocolate eyes, she asked, “Why not?”
“Because I’m attracted to you, Eve.”
That declaration stopped her mids
tride. She looked up into the dark eyes she’d been trying so hard to avoid. “Mr. Winstead... Darius. We’ve discussed this. We simply can’t have a relationship.”
He leaned against the corridor wall across from her. “You keep saying that, but I have yet to hear a good reason.”
Inwardly, she groaned. She only hoped he would approach running the company with this level of tenacity. “Because I’m concerned about the future of this company—”
“And I’m not?” He folded his arms across his wide chest, and the suit stretched more to accommodate the motion. “If FTI goes under, I’ll disappoint my mentor and good friend. So I’m going to do the best I can to keep that from happening. I don’t know why you would assume otherwise.”
His jaw was firm, his eyes hard. She’d insulted him, and even though it hadn’t been her intention, maybe that was best.
She took the last few steps to her office and let herself in. “I’m not going to argue with you about this.” She stepped inside, intending to close the door in his face, but he wedged his foot in the door frame.
“I’m not going to argue with you, either.” He reached out, and stroked his index finger along her jaw. “You’ll come to me willingly.”
She trembled at the fiery imprint of his touch. Her eyes slid closed for a moment, and she allowed the door to open.
He stepped into the room, and the woodsy scent of his cologne overcame her. She struggled to focus despite the heady aroma. She felt his large fingers wrap around her chin, and he began to tilt it up—
Regaining her sanity for a moment, she jerked away. “Have a good day, Mr. Winstead.” Her tone was wintry, despite the heat of desire he’d set ablaze inside her.
His face twisted into a mask of confusion and frustration, but he didn’t press her. Instead, he spun around and left the office.
Trembling, she closed the door behind him.
* * *
Darius stormed into his office, wanting more than anything to slam the doors. Refraining from such a childish reaction to rejection, he dropped down on the plush brown sofa and rubbed his throbbing temples.
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