by Lucy Monroe
Well, technically that wasn't true. She was dressed appropriately for a casual evening at home in an oversized, leopard-pattern silk tunic, black denim leggings, and a pair of soft leather shoes with a short heel.
However, mentally she was not yet ready to face Alex. She had almost called and cancelled twice this afternoon. The knowledge that he had her list made her go hot all over with embarrassment. She had no illusions that he would politely pretend to have forgotten their discussion in her office this afternoon.
It was no wonder that her nerves were stretched to the limit at the thought of spending the whole evening cooped up in her condo with Alex. Whose bright idea had it been for them to have dinner here, anyway? The answer, of course, was hers, which only went to show that her brain had gone past the meltdown stage to evaporation.
The doorbell rang. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she headed for the front door. The chimes rang out a second and third time before she reached it. Her nervousness turned to annoyance. She swung open the door ready to chastise Alex for his impatience and the words died unuttered.
The man on the other side of the door was not Alex. She really didn't need this. Not right now. Not minutes before Alex was scheduled to show up on her doorstep.
"Brad, what are you doing here?"
Brad gave her his signature smile. All teeth and no sincerity. "Hey, babe. Long time no see."
"Not long enough," she replied, making no attempt to be civil. The jerk did not deserve polite reserve.
He deserved to be dipped into a swamp in southern Florida, one full of alligators, just like him.
He didn't even blink. "I'm sorry about what happened, babe. I still had some growing up to do."
They had broken up a little over a month ago and she didn't think he could have done any significant growing up since then. "I'm supposed to care because why?"
His face twisted into a fair imitation of sadness and regret. She wondered how long he'd practiced in front of the mirror to perfect the look.
"I can't blame you for being hurt, but I thought you'd be ready to talk about it by now."
The white-haired old lady who lived with her husband in the condo to the right of Isabel's peeked out her door and waved. Isabel stifled a groan. After kissing Alex on her front porch the other night, she didn't want to give her neighbors any more fodder for gossip. Brad didn't look ready to leave. He could be very persistent. Alligators usually were when stalking their prey.
Stepping back from the door, she waved Brad inside. They had nothing to discuss, but she would tell him that away from prying eyes. Brad's eyes filled with triumph and he followed Isabel into the living room. She couldn't help comparing his insincere charm to Alex's brooding presence. Where Alex had filled the room just by being there, Brad had no more impact on Isabel's senses than if she'd had the television on.
"Say what you need to and leave. I'm expecting someone."
"Bettina coming over for some girl-chat?" he asked with a condescending smile.
"No, I've got a date." One that would not appreciate finding another man in her living room when he arrived.
Brad's brows rose, but he didn't appear impressed. "Trying to make me jealous, cupcake?"
Had she truly ever thought his patronizing endearments anything but drivel? She couldn't remember. All she knew was that right now they grated on her like nails scoring a chalkboard. "I'm trying to get you to leave."
He attempted to look hurt. "Is that any way to act when I've taken my pride and my heart in my hands to show up here and beg your forgiveness?"
He stepped forward and took her hand in his. She tried to pull away, but he didn't let go.
"Don't get melodramatic. I know it's one of your fortes, but it does nothing for my mood." She yanked on her captive hand again, to no avail.
"Isabel, babe, we were good together. Don't let one unfortunate incident ruin our future. She meant nothing to me." He leaned closer, and she had the awful suspicion that he meant to kiss her. "I know what you want and I can give it to you. Marriage. A baby. All of it."
She cursed her own naïveté in sharing her dreams with the philandering jerk. "I don't want any of those things with you."
Ignoring her, he leaned down. He really was going to try to kiss her. The idiot. She pulled her free arm back in order to gain leverage for the blow that would break Brad's hold on her arm. It was unnecessary. Brad released her wrist and went flying backward in one fluid movement. He landed against the wall and slid down to sit like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
"Keep your hands off my fiancée or they're going to end up broken. The only man giving her a baby will be me." Alex towered over Brad, fury reverberating in his voice and body.
Brad pushed himself up from the floor. He looked at Alex and then at Isabel, his expression honest for once. He looked baffled and worried. "You're engaged to him?" he asked, pointing to Alex.
"No," she said.
"Yes," Alex replied at the same time.
She turned to frown at Alex. He didn't spare her a glance; he was too busy glaring at Brad.
Brad edged toward the door. "I'll call you later."
"I'd rather you didn't," she said, not believing for a second that Brad would take her feelings into account. He certainly hadn't when he started sleeping with his voluptuous boss. Isabel would have to inform the receptionist at her office that she didn't want to accept calls from him.
Alex grabbed Brad by the shirtfront and pinned him against the wall. "If you call or come by to see Isabel again, you'll be dealing with me."
The menace in Alex's voice made Isabel shiver and must have had a similar affect on Brad because he left without another word.
Hiding her secret satisfaction at seeing the alligator detoothed so very easily and thoroughly, she rounded on Alex. "There was absolutely no need for you to go caveman here or make false claims, Alex."
He was all over her like sand on a windy day at the beach. "Who the hell was that guy, and why did he think he could give you babies?"
She didn't bother to mention that Brad had said one baby. She didn't think Alex would care about the distinction, but she did. She had no doubt Brad would be willing to humor her with having one child so that he could marry the only heir of the man who owned the lion's share of Hypertron. However, she did doubt Brad would agree to more children. He was much too self-involved for that.
"Brad is an ex-boyfriend, one I made the mistake of telling about my desire for a family."
"Did you show him your list?" Alex asked the question like an accusation.
Isabel crossed her arms under her chest. "No. I did not show him the list. I didn't show it to you, either, if you remember correctly."
He nodded. "Is he the reason why you made it, the mistake you're trying to avoid making again?"
"Yes."
"What happened?"
"We broke up."
"Why?"
The thought that Bettina and Alex must have gone to the same school of interrogation flitted through Isabel's mind. "Because we weren't compatible."
"Evidently he thinks you are."
"He thinks he would like to marry the daughter of the president of Hypertron. It's his idea of the fast track to upper-upper management."
Alex frowned. "I'm not interested in your position as John Harrison's daughter."
She didn't doubt the veracity of his words. There was an absolute certainty to them that almost made her shiver.
"Then you and Brad have very little in common."
Alex stepped forward until he was within inches of touching her. He reached out and curled his forefinger under her chin, tipping her face up until their eyes met. "On the contrary, we have one very important thing in common."
"What is that?" The question came out breathless, but then, Alex's touch affected her that way.
"We both want to marry you."
He drowned her gasp of surprise and protest with his lips.
Chapter 7
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She tasted like the first bite of a hot fudge sundae on a warm summer's day, so damn sweet and utterly irresistible. He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her closer. Her muffled protests died as her body went pliant against his.
Digging her fingers into his shoulders, she opened her mouth under his. Her generous passion almost sent him to his knees. He moaned as her hips rocked against the bulge in his jeans. He wanted to rip off their clothes and rub his hardened flesh against the nest of curls between her thighs before plunging into her wet and welcoming heat. He wanted to make her his.
His hands roamed up her back, pressing her body into contact with his. He could feel the stiff nubs of her nipples through the layers of clothes that separated them. He cupped her breast through the silky fabric of her shirt and almost lost control completely.
Isabel wasn't wearing a bra. The only thing between him and the fullness of her creamy flesh was a thin layer of leopard-print silk. Scorching heat shot through him. She felt so damn good against him. So right. He kneaded her pliant flesh, allowing his thumb to graze her nipple.
Isabel tore her mouth from his and let out a sharp cry. "Oh, Alex. This is incredible."
He wasn't going to argue. The way he felt when he touched Isabel was incredible. It was also dangerous.
Dangerous because she didn't trust him yet.
As much as he wanted to make love to Isabel right now, he knew she wouldn't understand what it meant. She wouldn't understand the seriousness of it, the implacable permanence it would herald. He wanted her so much that his body was rigid with the need, but he had to control himself if he wanted his plans to succeed. He wanted more than an evening of pleasure. He wanted forever. Drawing on the last vestiges of his willpower, he pulled away from her.
She stared at him, her eyes unfocused in her passion.
He stepped back. "Is that terrific smell dinner?"
He couldn't actually smell anything but her unique and highly arousing scent. He was making a guess about dinner. She took a deep breath, and he almost yanked her back into his arms as her hardened nipples pressed against the silk of her shirt.
"You want dinner?" she asked, clearly dazed.
No, damn it. He wanted her. "I'd rather make love to you, sweetheart, but it's too soon for you."
The hazy expression faded from her eyes and they narrowed. She crossed her arms under her breasts and he longed to reach out and cup the soft, feminine curves. "Too soon for me?"
Yes, damn it. If it wasn't he would have their clothes off and her against the wall before she could draw her next breath. "Yes. Now, can we have dinner?"
Being chivalrous wasn't all it was cracked up to be, not when his body was begging for release.
She glared at him. "Let me get this straight. It's too soon for me to make love, but you plan to at some point in the future. Only right now, you want dinner?"
She didn't sound impressed with his chivalry.
And that made him angry. He hadn't stopped because he wanted to. He was doing this for her. Maybe a little blunt speaking would make her see the light.
"Sweetheart, if we don't leave this room right now I'm going to slip your blouse up your body, letting the silk brush against those hard little buds that have been teasing me since our first date, and then pull it off you. Then I'm going to taste you, all of you. That will require you losing the rest of your clothes. Once you are naked, I'm going to bury a certain extremely hard portion of my anatomy so deeply inside you that you aren't going to be able to tell where you end and I begin."
Isabel's eyes had slowly lost their angry sparkle, to be filled once again with unfocused passion. She swayed where she stood. Her tongue darted out and wet her lower lip. "I see."
"Do you?" His voice came out harsher than he intended. Controlling his desire for Isabel was getting more difficult by the second.
She swallowed. "I'm not ready to make love with you."
Hadn't he said that? "Dinner?"
She nodded. "Right. Dinner."
* * *
Isabel leaned her forehead against the smooth, cool surface of the refrigerator. She wished she'd worn a bra tonight. Her nipples were so tight that they actually hurt as her blouse brushed against them. She didn't want dinner. She wanted Alex, but she didn't trust him. It would be really, really stupid to make love to a man she didn't trust.
That didn't stop her breasts from aching for more of his touch or her mouth for the taste of him. Her thighs involuntarily pressed together trying to assuage the throbbing there. Alex's words spun through her mind like a tornado, leaving sensual devastation in their wake. He wanted her more than any man ever had. Even though he had stopped and even though she didn't have much experience in these things, she didn't doubt the desire she had sensed in him. That kind of need demanded a response, a response her body was willing to give.
But as much as she wanted him, his attitude really, really irritated her mind. And her pride.
"I admit that I don't know much about cooking, but I don't think you can prepare food by trying to mind-meld with the refrigerator, sweetheart."
His voice skated across her taut nerves. Willing herself to play it cool, she drew away from the appliance and turned to face him. She almost wished she hadn't. Barely controlled passion swirled in his eyes.
"Dinner is already made," she forced the mundane words out through tingling lips. "Would you like to open the wine?"
"Where's your corkscrew?"
She pointed to a kitchen drawer. "There."
They went about the routine of putting dinner on the table. Alex helped with natural ease. Isabel chose to eat in the dining room, not trusting the cozy closeness the small table in the kitchen would provide. After she and Alex sat down, she looked down at her plate and gave a silent moment of thanks. Nanny Number Six had insisted Isabel develop that particular habit. When she looked up, she found Alex studying her.
She forced a smile. "I hope you like dinner. It's pretty simple."
"Why did you invite me to dinner, Isabel?"
"You invited yourself," she reminded him.
"You offered to cook."
"It's less expensive than shoe shopping."
He didn't smile at her little joke. "Is that what you were going to do tonight? Go shoe shopping?"
She shrugged and took a fortifying sip of her wine. She went shoe shopping when she was stressed. "Maybe."
"You didn't have plans with Brad tonight?"
"Of course not I wouldn't have invited you over if I had. His arrival was completely unexpected."
Why had she thought eating in here would be an improvement over the close confines of her cheery kitchen? The soft lighting and dark wood in the dining room lent an all-too-romantic setting to the meal she was sharing with Alex to maintain her peace of mind.
"Why did he come?"
If his parents had taught him that it was rude to pry, Alex hadn't taken to the lesson.
She picked up her knife and cut a small piece off of the stuffed chicken breast on her plate. "He said he wanted to apologize."
"Did he?"
She ran the conversation she'd had with Brad through her mind. "Sort of. I guess. In an offhand way."
"Did he do something that requires more than an offhand admission of guilt?" Alex asked the question casually, but his tense posture indicated he wanted the answer for more than curiosity's sake.
"If I cared and if he really wanted to renew our relationship, then I'd have to say yes. It would take a lot more than a token 'I'm sorry' to make it better."
He mulled over her answer for a moment. "You said he's an ex-boyfriend."
"Yes." She wondered if the government realized what it had missed when Alex Trahern opted for the corporate world rather than training to be a spy or interrogator.
"How recent was your relations
hip?" His face became more expressionless with each question.
"We broke up about six weeks ago."
"It was serious, then? You were thinking about marriage and babies with him."
She didn't like the direction their conversation was taking. "Don't you think your questions are a little personal for our short acquaintance, Alex?"
"What we did in the living room was a whole lot more personal. Answer the question, sweetheart."
When he used the endearment it did something funny to her heart. She liked it. Was Alex the type of man to call all the women he knew names like that? Somehow, she doubted it.
"I never seriously considered marriage with Brad."
"Why not? Didn't he fit your list of requirements?"
She felt her cheeks heat at the mention of her list. The list that made her appear desperate and crazy. "I didn't have them then. It was simpler than that."
"What was it?"
"I thought about my work when he kissed me." She thought about other things, too, things like what kind of flowers to buy the office receptionist for secretary's day, stuff that had absolutely nothing to do with passion and commitment.
Satisfaction radiated off Alex. "What do you think about when I kiss you?" he asked in a husky tone that made her thighs clamp together again.
She wasn't about to answer that loaded question.
Alex didn't seem to expect her to because he asked another one almost immediately. "Is that why you stopped seeing him?"
She shook her head. "I found him in bed with his oh-so-lovely, oh-so-married boss when he was supposed to be at work."
After hearing about how she responded to Brad's kisses, would Alex believe it was Isabel's fault that Brad had cheated on her? Brad certainly had. He'd made it clear that if Isabel had been more passionate, he would never have gone to bed with the other woman. Isabel had told herself it was just an excuse and a poor one at that, but part of her had been afraid Brad was right. She'd feared that she lacked the passionate nature to maintain the long-term interest of a man.
"Brad is a jackass."
