by Tia Wylder
I smiled. “When I was growing up, we had two drivers. Martin and Rock.”
Peter laughed. “I can picture Rock now,” he said. “Let me guess – shrimpy and small?”
I laughed. “Yeah,” I said. “When I turned fourteen, Dad wouldn’t let him drive me alone…he kept thinking Rock would try to seduce me or something. He wouldn’t listen when I told him that I wasn’t attracted to men who didn’t even come up to my shoulders!”
Peter was laughing so hard he went red in the face.
“That’s hysterical,” Peter said. “I can see it now.”
I laughed and shook my head. “It wasn’t that funny. Martin only worked weekends, so I was stuck at home every night.” My laughter died as I remembered the day my father had fired Martin and Rock, in front of Mother and me. At the time, he’d said it was because they were stealing from us. But now I was sure it was because Father could no longer afford to pay them, and he was too embarrassed to be honest.
“My parents didn’t really care what I did,” Peter said. He shrugged. “I basically came and went as I pleased.”
“Lucky,” I said sourly.
“Not really,” Peter replied. He wrinkled his nose. “I think I spent maybe ten hours in the presence of my mother and father growing up. They were always busy, too. Drinking and drugging and doing god know what until the wee hours of the morning.”
I felt profoundly sad for Peter in that moment, but it was an odd kind of sadness. Since I didn’t feel like I knew Peter well enough to be honest with him, I frowned and reached for his hand. I meant to pat his arm in reassurance, but Peter tangled his fingers with mine and kept my hand held close.
We rode in silence. When Renaldo pulled up in front of the trendy SoHo restaurant that Peter had chosen, I kept my knees together as I climbed out of the car. Peter told Renaldo to wait nearby, then guided me by the elbow and led me inside.
The interior of The Red Room was seductive and intimate, just like Peter himself. A gorgeous young hostess showed us to a table and smiled at Peter, but to my surprise, he didn’t even look at her. In the dim candlelight of the restaurant, he looked even more handsome than usual.
“So,” Peter said in a low voice. “How was your week?”
I laughed.
“What?”
“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s just funny, that’s all…talking about such a mundane thing.”
Peter snickered. “I know,” he said. He raked a hand through his blonde hair. “I hate talking about work, but somehow, that’s almost all I can talk about.”
“We need to get you on a vacation,” I said, smirking across the table. “You’re turning into a workaholic.”
“Just as my father would have it,” Peter said drily. “You like red, or white?” He gestured to the wine list.
“Anything,” I said honestly, glancing around. “I have a feeling this place doesn’t serve bad wine.”
Peter signaled for the sommelier and ordered a bottle of sparkling Italian wine. “It’s sweet,” he said. “You can’t tell anyone my deep secret – that I like girly wine.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Your secret is safe with me,” I replied, drawing a line across my lips.
That was when I felt Peter’s hand on my thigh, under the table.
“So,” Peter said, smirking at me. “Feel like talking about your week now?”
I flushed hotly, grateful for the dim light of the dining room. Before I could reply, the sommelier appeared with two crystal glasses and a bottle of sparkling wine in a shining, silver bucket. He poured Peter a small taste and after Peter approved, poured two glasses. Peter handed one to me with his free hand, smirking as I took the crystal goblet from his grasp.
Peter’s hand inched higher and higher up my thigh. He began kneading my skin until I turned pink from head to toe. I couldn’t believe it – being with Peter made me feel more womanly and sexy than I’d ever thought possible.
Maybe Beth was right, I thought as I bit my lip to keep from moaning. Peter’s fingers inched up my skirt and stroked my bare thighs, and soon I was working hard to keep from wriggling. When I felt his thumb brush against the crotch of my panties, I moaned softly.
“That good, huh?” Peter asked in a quiet voice. “I never would have expected you to find your work so…fulfilling, Honey.”
I shivered. Something about the way Peter said my name made me want to launch myself at him and kiss him deeply.
“I know,” I said softly. “I never would have guessed it, either.” Peter’s fingers stroked my crotch again and I shivered and shuddered in the velvet chair.
Peter pulled his hand away. He locked eyes with me as he lifted his fingers to his nose and sniffed, then licked them, one by one. The gesture was so intimate, so intense, that I blushed a deep red.
The air between us was charged and tense.
The waiter appeared, breaking the spell between Peter and me. He didn’t even look at me – it was like he could tell that I didn’t belong in such a fancy establishment.
“Sir, have you decided?”
Peter smirked at me. “I don’t know,” he said. “Have we?”
I tossed my hair and smiled at the waiter. “I’ll have the lamb, rare, please,” I said. “And a side of butternut squash with arugula and goat cheese.”
“Very good, madam,” the waiter said, looking down his nose at me. “And for you, sir?”
Peter nodded and smiled. “That sounds great,” he said. “I’ll have the same.”
As soon as the waiter left, I felt myself being sucked back into Peter’s world once more. His smile was so intriguing, and his eyes were so beautiful that I could hardly tear my gaze away from them. When he winked at me, I flushed hotly.
“So,” Peter said in a low voice that sent a shiver down my spine. “Enjoying yourself?”
I smiled coyly. “I might be,” I said, licking my lips.
Peter grinned. “I bet you’re happy you agreed to go out with me after all,” he said.
“As long as you don’t try suggesting that…idea again,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Because you know I wouldn’t accept.”
Peter smirked. “I know,” he said. “Trust me, I won’t ask you again.”
I bit my lip. As weird as I knew it was, somehow, I’d almost been hoping that the subject would come up, that Peter would press me for me. Honey, you’re being crazy, I told myself as I sipped my wine, savoring the light grape flavor on my tongue. You told him no – he’s a respectful man, he’s not going to press you for more!
Dinner was magical. When our food arrived, I was so dazzled by Peter and the gorgeous environment of the restaurant that I could hardly eat. But the lamb was delicious – something about the rare red meat made me feel as sensual and seductive.
“When I was a kid, we used to summer in Montauk,” Peter said, glancing at me over his glass of wine. “I hated it.”
I laughed. “I know the feeling,” I said. “Mother and Father rented a place in the Hamptons.” I rolled my eyes. “My dad always said it was the house of a family friend, but I figured it out after a while. I knew he was paying for it with his own money.”
Peter shook his head. “I can’t imagine,” he said. “How betrayed you must have felt.”
I winced. There it was again – that cold, sharp sting that made me realize I’d never be a part of Peter’s world.
“Yeah,” I said softly, reaching for a piece of bread and breaking it apart with my fingers. I sighed. “It was funny – I hated summering, too, because it took me away from all my friends. And they went to much more exotic places – I had a friend who went to Marseilles every year, with her family.”
Peter whistled. “Sounds nice.”
“I bet,” I said. “Have you ever been?”
Peter shook his head. “I don’t travel much,” he said. “I work so often that it just seems like a waste. Whenever I’m not working, I’m asleep.”
“Or you’re at The Red Room, with a strange woman,
” I said in a low voice.
Peter smirked. “I prefer this to sleeping,” he said. He caught my eye and I blushed. “But I wouldn’t say no to having you in my bed again.”
I took a long sip of wine. “I’m sure,” I said coyly. “But I have an early day tomorrow.”
Peter smirked. “Shit,” he said. “I guess I’ll have to find another excuse to take you out, then.”
I flushed.
“I can’t remember the last time I felt like this,” Peter said. “It’s so easy talking to you, Honey, it’s like I’ve known you all my life.”
“I know,” I said softly. “I feel it, too.”
Peter leaned across the table. Just as he was about to kiss me, the waiter appeared.
“Will sir or madam want any dessert?”
Peter gave me a smoldering glance, and I flushed.
“No,” Peter said shortly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy credit card. “Just the bill, please.”
The waiter sniffed. “Very well, sir,” he said. “I will be right back.”
Peter paid the bill, then put his hand on the small of my back as he escorted me out of The Red Room. The tension between us was insane, crackling – so intense that I could hardly bear it.
Outside, the city seemed buzzing and lively. Dark had fallen, and cars honked and slid slowly by on the street. The sidewalks were crowded and teeming: tourists, lovers, little kids running around.
Still, with Peter, it felt like we were the only two people in the world. Peter put his hands on my waist and turned me to him, pressing his lean, toned bulk against my body. A shiver ran down my spine as he traced his fingers along my neck.
“So,” Peter growled in my ear. “You sure you can’t come over?”
I felt a flood gush between my legs, and I nodded. “I wish I could,” I said. I sighed. “I…I have some things to do, though, that I can’t get out of.”
“Work?”
I nodded. It wasn’t true – I was going to spend the day meeting with financial advisors, trying to find a solution to my Billion Dollar Problem – but Peter didn’t need to know that.
“Too bad,” Peter said, a playful smile crossing his lips. He leaned in close and kissed me. Warm thrills shot up and down my spine, and I moaned softly as his tongue slipped into my mouth.
“I know,” I moaned softly. “I wish I could come over.”
Peter smirked. “My condo isn’t going anywhere,” he said. “Feel like coming by after you’re done working?”
I bit my lip. “Maybe,” I said, trying to play coy. I had a feeling that after dealing with Dad’s debt all day, I was going to want nothing more than a bubble bath and a cheap glass of wine. But Peter’s condo…and his hot body…had their own lure.
“I’ll be thinking about you,” Peter growled in my ear. He licked and sucked my earlobe and I twitched with desire, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him close.
I closed my eyes and murmured softly. The loud sounds of the city faded away from me until there was nothing left but Peter.
“I’ll let you go,” Peter said. He stepped back, smirking as if he knew I wanted more.
“Dinner was wonderful,” I said. My voice was low and husky, and I flushed, clearing my throat.
Peter smirked. “Not as wonderful as you.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek. “Want Renaldo to take you home? I should check in at the office,” he added. “If you’re going to be a workaholic, I might as well do the same.”
I shook my head. “It’s a beautiful night,” I said, looking around, still dazed from Peter’s intense kisses. “I’ll walk.”
Peter took my hand. Just as I thought he was about to pull me close again, he lifted my fingers to his lips and kissed my palm. A powerful wave of lust crashed over my head.
“Just promise me one thing,” Peter growled.
“What is it?”
“That I can see you again,” Peter said. “Please?”
I bit my lip and smiled. “I’ll think about it,” I said coyly.
Peter smirked. “Good,” he replied. “Because I think I’ll lose my fucking mind if you say no.”
It was hard to tear myself away from Peter. It was even harder to start the long walk home, dazzled by my night of romance and lust. But I knew it was for the best – I needed to keep a clear head, especially if I was going to have any kind of success in my meetings tomorrow.
At home, Beth was sitting on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, watching a movie. When she saw me, she gave me a surprised face.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you at home tonight,” she said. “Date didn’t go well?”
I couldn’t keep from breaking into a wide grin. “It was perfect,” I said softly.
“So? Why didn’t you go home with him?”
I flopped on the couch and sighed. Beth offered me the popcorn, but I shook my head, pushing the bowl away.
“No, thanks,” I said. “I’m really not hungry.”
Beth smirked. “Get enough Peter, did you?”
I blushed hotly. “None of your business,” I said haughtily. “Although, if I have to be honest, no.” I sighed. “I didn’t want to go home with him. Not with that…errand tomorrow looming over my head.”
Beth narrowed her eyes. “You know, Honey,” she said slowly. “Maybe you should take him up on that offer.”
I blinked at her. “What?”
“You heard me,” Beth said. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
I bit my lip. “And what on earth would make you say something like that,” I said. “I mean, it’s…wrong, Beth.”
“Not really,” Beth said. “What? Don’t look at me like that,” she added defensively. “Look, Honey, it’s not like you’ve never thought about it before. He’s hot. You like him!”
“Yeah,” I said. “But I barely know him!”
“And he would solve all of your problems,” Beth continued. “Look, it’s not like you’ve got to raise the kid yourself or anything. That’s part of the deal, right?”
I sighed. “Talking about this feels weird,” I replied. “I’m going to bed.”
“Wait, Honey, hear me out,” Beth insisted. “Look, I know it’s weird. But here’s a guy – he’s nice, and he’s sexy, and he’s super rich – and he’s willing to give you billions of dollars, just to marry him and have his kid! And then the marriage is over, so what? You’re back to square one! You don’t owe your dad another cent!”
I frowned. As much as I hated to admit it, I knew there was a strange logic to Beth’s words.
“I don’t know,” I said dubiously. “What if the kid grows up like me? Like Peter did? With absent parents, closer to nannies and governesses and cooks?”
Beth shrugged. “Then, make a clause in the contract that you want Peter to have a certain level of involvement,” she said. “You do this on your terms.” She narrowed her eyes. “Honey, it’s a good opportunity. It pays way more than surrogacy!”
“I know,” I said slowly. “I just…it feels weird!”
Beth shrugged. “Well, what other offers are you going to get? This might be the best thing, Honey.” Her tone was gentle, but her words were so close to the truth that they almost stung.
I closed my eyes and thought about it. I could see myself now, in some financial advisor’s office, clad in a sensible dress and forcing a smile. What kind of horrible news would they give me? Would I have my wages garnished for the rest of my life? Would I go to prison?
I shuddered, wrapping my arms around myself and clutching tightly. There was no way of predicting what I could – or would have to do – next.
“Well?” Beth asked. Her question hung in the air like a balloon.
“Maybe,” I said softly.
Beth nodded. “You’ll figure it out,” she said. “I know you will.”
I smiled back at her, still feeling unsure. I knew that Beth – and Peter – were confident in me.
But I also had no way of knowing if having Peter’s baby would
be a good idea. Sure, I liked Peter. He was handsome, sexy, charming – and rich as hell.
But we barely knew each other. And having a child was a commitment – a lifelong commitment. Two months ago, I’d been living a life of relative bliss.
And now?
I had no idea who was even in control.
Chapter 10
Peter
Honey was on my mind all night. Her curves, her smile, the cocky way she’d smiled at me in The Red Room.
