Conclusion? Bert might be ready to punch his man card, but Dr. Livingston wasn’t nearly as impressed.
He’d climbed into bed fighting not to take it personally. This morning he was still feeling off about it. Was it just his ego smarting from someone with her great legs not responding to him? He normally didn’t have any problems getting the attention of any female he chose. Of course, his and Della’s situation wasn’t normal.
“Good morning, Elliston,” Della said softly, her mouth moving into a smile.
Her raspy greeting broke through his ponderings about how she might feel in his arms. “Morning, Della,” Elliston said huskily, his tone surprising him into clearing his throat.
Her giggle surprised him further.
“You can have the bathroom first. I got up earlier. I’m sleeping in a bit this morning. I worked kind of late,” she said.
“Okay. Sure,” Elliston said groggily and reluctantly swung his feet to the floor. She rolled the other direction as he stood. Her reaction soothed his wounded male ego a bit and made him grin. His shorts didn’t do much to hide his typical morning condition. He was sure his fake girlfriend had come to the same conclusion before she’d politely turned away.
His grin lasted all the way to the bathroom and through his shower. They were both being friendly and polite, which was making everything as easy as it could be, but there was an undeniable sexual vibe growing between them.
Elliston wasn’t beating his chest like a gorilla over it yet—thank goodness—though Bert would have been proud if he had. No, the men in his family had drilled better behavior into him. However, that territorial state might be around the corner if the alluring and beautiful Dr. Livingston kept being so nice.
Water dripped from her body as Della finally found and held the small digital recorder to her lips. If she didn’t make the note now, her racing thoughts were going to bug her too much to enjoy her swim. It was bad enough she kept reliving Elliston’s stiff walk to the bathroom this morning and the twenty-minute shower that followed. Visions of the body connected to the leanly muscled chest she’d seen last night had haunted her through everything she’d done this morning.
“Opinion—most of us are biologically predisposed to form attachments to those we consider ‘love interests’. It is somehow hard-wired into our biology, our chemistry, and our neural network. How we form those attachments is through some invisible force that compels us to swipe left or right on our choice of them, or in the case of my current employment, to view someone chosen from a comprehensive database as the perfect date. Could it be that analysis and statistical matching have replaced the ancient dating dance of ask and reject… or ask and accept? Research is pointing to it as just a more modern yet socialized scientific method of culling the herd for the best potential mate. The downside is that it’s just not as much fun as meeting a random stranger and finding yourself compelled to get close to them. Or something like that…”
Frustrated with her lack of clarity, Della clicked the device off and tossed it back into her purse slash laptop bag. Brain finally empty, she turned and headed back to the pool at a trot, jumping off the side as she dived cleanly into the water. She swam several laps enjoying the sleek way her muscles sent the rest of her through the water. When she broke the surface again, Elliston was standing by the pool’s edge watching her. She swam over and grabbed the tile near his feet to keep herself floating there.
He knelt to be more on her level. “Hey. I thought you might like to get some lunch. Bert and his buddies are off playing golf.”
Della wiped the water from her eyes. “Oh. Don’t you play?”
“I do. Uncle John loves to thrash me on a regular basis. Today I just… I guess I needed a break from schmoozing,” Elliston said, unsure of how Della would react if he admitted to wanting to spend some time alone with her. He’d been thinking of her all morning.
“Oh, okay.” Della swam to the nearest ladder and pulled herself out. She walked to where he still stood. “I’d love some lunch actually, but as you can see, I’m soaked from my swim—not really restaurant ready at the moment.”
Elliston looked down at the water running off her. She was curvy and sleek all at the same time. She looked fantastic. “Fishing for a compliment about how great you look wet?”
Della laughed and leaned to the side as she squeezed the water from her hair. “Sure. That’s what I was doing. I assure you, Mr. McElroy, that I have little guile. My father raised me to be a tomboy who didn’t really care how she looked. After that, my mother made sure my sisters got all the femininity she could pass on to them.”
A grin spread across his face. The brilliant Dr. Livingston was clueless about her allure. From what he could tell, many women were until the right guy came along and pointed out the obvious. “There’s a café in the next building with a patio where we can sit outside. You can dry off and eat at the same time,” he offered, feeling proud of himself for finding a solution.
“It’s pretty warm outside today. That works for me,” Della said. “By the way, I have a massage scheduled for 2:30. I figured I’d shower and dress for dinner afterward. Sound okay?”
“Sounds perfect,” Elliston replied, watching her pull some kind of see-through dress on over the modest swimsuit. It outlined everything good about her body without revealing anything except Della’s great shape. “Tonight is cocktails and dinner. I even heard there’s a band and dancing.”
Della made a face. “Sorry. I don’t really dance—well, not that formal kind anyway.”
Elliston laughed. “Don’t worry. Neither do I. We’ll wait for a slow song and fake it.”
“That’s our theme for the weekend,” Della replied with good cheer. Her stomach tightened in excitement when Elliston put his hand on her lower back as they left the pool area. It was the same thing he’d done the night they’d arrived. That first time he’d touched her had been for Bert’s benefit. This time there was no one around.
When they emerged into the lobby, his hand dropped away from her back to link up with her dangling fingers. She knew he was holding hands for show, but it still felt nice to feel his fingers squeezing hers. She spent their entire walk to the restaurant wondering why being with him felt so natural to her.
Her massage led to a nap which had resulted in a very quick styling job on her mostly pool washed hair. She ended up gelling her waves into submission so she could spend most of her time on makeup. Della was finding it nearly impossible to reconcile her normal look with the dress the image consultant had picked out. The lacy outer layer was pretty over the silk chemise underneath, but it wasn’t really her style. The one saving grace was that shorter length ending just above her knees showed off her legs well.
A pretty rose slip peeked through swirls of transparent black. She would have preferred a bright blue or a lime green, but her choices didn’t matter for this one weekend. This dress at least beat the other dress the image consultant insisted was suitable. It was teal and looked like something her mother would have chosen for her to wear.
Feeling more rebellious just thinking about her family, Della put some bring pink sparkle shadow at the corner of her eyes just under the brow. After three coats of mascara, she added a set of chunky metal earrings to her ears just to look more like herself.
When she was finished, she shrugged at her reflection and hoped it was conservative enough. Her eyeliner might be a tad heavier than the other women would be wearing, but she liked the drama it brought to her face. She’d gone for an Egyptian sort of look, which lifted when she smiled.
Della slid her feet into her favorite black heels, which matched the drama of her eyes, but were probably too dramatic for the outfit with their three ankle straps and four-inch spikes aided by two-inch platform toes. But as she walked around the room and felt comfortable, she knew her confidence level would be much higher in them, so she ignored the conservative black pumps her mother had insisted she always keep on hand.
Feeling complete at las
t, Della looked in the mirrored closet door and shrugged. “And now we have Della wearing something from the Cleopatra in the 21st Century collection…” she joked.
Picking up her phone to slip it into her tiny black purse, she saw a message from Elliston. He was in the business center taking a call from his team about an emergency with another client. He’d have to meet her there.
Della sighed as she put her phone away. “This fake girlfriend gig feels just like being a real one,” she mused aloud as she headed to the party. “I hope the food is good.”
Elliston checked his watch and swore. It had taken him an hour to calm his new business app client, which meant Della had been holding her own at the party the whole time. Guilt driving him forward, his feet ate up the distance as he entered the room where the group was mingling. Several of Bert’s friends stopped him on his venture forward. He tried to feel good about the fact that all were promising to be in touch to give him some work.
His head jerked from the last person who’d stopped him toward a laughing crowd of mostly men. In the middle was Della with a smiling Joyce glued to her side. She was like a black swan, sleek and powerful, swimming through the lake at her own speed as she talked with all the bright, white swans around her.
“Do you know the good-looking Goth babe?” the guy asked.
“Yes. She’s mine,” Elliston replied, the strange words popping out without thought. His head turned sharply when the guy laughed.
“Yours? Where have you been all this time then? I could say I saw her first, but as you can see we’ll both have to stand in line to get her attention.”
Elliston narrowed his gaze. Future client or not, no one was hitting on Della while she was there with him. Bert had been enough. “She’s my girlfriend.”
“Sure she is,” the guy said as he rolled his eyes. Still chuckling, he held up a hand. “Good luck with that. I heard she’s some sort of doctor or something.”
“Behavioral Psychology—her dissertation is about modern mating rituals. She’s finishing this month,” Elliston recited. Though he was fairly sure he hadn’t said anything funny, the guy laughed again and pulled a card out of his pocket.
“Here—you convinced me. Give me a call next week, McElroy. It takes a big pair to keep a smart girlfriend happy. Since she keeps talking about you like you’re God, I figure you must be one hell of a guy. I let someone like her get away from me last year. Don’t make my mistake,” the guy advised, slapping Elliston on his shoulder before wandering off.
Elliston barely felt the sting of the hit because he was hyperaware of Della who oozed composure in the crowd. At Mariah’s office, she’d always seemed so quietly serious. Tonight she seemed composed and self-confident as she listened intently to something the guy next to her was saying. Did she know the man talking to her was loaded? Did his wealth matter to her? Not that his own earnings were shabby, but the guy was probably a decade further along in his career.
Elliston eased toward the group trying to politely listen, but Della must have felt his approach. She turned a welcoming smile in his direction, her darkly lined eyes crinkling in pleasure to see him. Music started as he finally broke through the group. Before any guy could grab her hand, Elliston had both of them in his, tugging her toward the dance floor.
“Sorry, gents. The good doctor is dancing with me,” he announced, walking backward with her.
“Is that your idea of being smooth?” Della asked, giggling at his pleased look.
“Smooth? No way. I was going for Hot Geek, as in stay away from my girlfriend,” Elliston said.
“Fake girlfriend,” Della reminded him.
“Not to them,” Elliston said, pulling Della into his arms. Her cheek was next to his. “I like your shoes and your eyes.”
“What do you think of the dress?”
His gaze dropped. “Since we’re just faking our relationship, I feel like I can be totally honest. The body inside the dress makes it work, but in general, it looks like your Mom picked it out. Now the skirt you wore here? That seemed more like you. Just saying….”
Her genuine belly laugh had everyone’s eyes turning in their direction. No one was going to forget him after this weekend, but that was turning out to be more about Della than his own social acumen.
“Barely an ass save, Mr. McElroy, even if I agree with you.”
Chuckling over her joke, Elliston pulled Della closer and let his cheek rest against hers. The music was slow and sultry, something smooth for the older crowd but it definitely worked to his advantage as well. They moved with the music, neither of them leading or following. Instead, their bodies were talking to each other in the oldest language in the world.
“You’re the most beautiful woman in this room tonight,” he said softly, gripping tighter when Della stiffened against him. “Stop that. I was honest with my insult about your clothes which means you have to believe my compliments. That’s how this communicating stuff works, Dr. Livingston.”
“I guess that’s fair enough,” Della said softly, leaning away to look into his eyes. “It’s just that I’ve found compliments like that lead to the guy totally ignoring the rest of me.”
“What rest of you?”
Della shrugged. “Like the fact that I have an adventurous mind.”
“I would never ignore such a thing. Plus I could totally tell that from the eyeliner. How adventurous?” Elliston asked, lowering his voice to a rough whisper.
Della giggled and moved until her cheek was next to his again. “That’s a very personal question, Mr. McElroy. I’m not sure I want to tell you.”
Elliston tugged Della closer, his hand firmly on the small of her back. It felt like his hand belonged there—the same way Della belonged in his arms. “In case it’s missed your attention, I want to kiss you. The urge is growing every moment we spend together.”
The statement hung in the air between them while their feet continued to move in some sort of dance. This time he was the one who pulled back.
“How about we try something really adventurous. When the fake weekend is over, will you go out with me for real?” he asked. The look of shock on Della’s face was priceless because it widened her eyes. “It’s a date, Della. Not an execution.”
“What kind of date?” Dell asked.
Elliston snorted as he held her surprised gaze. “Any kind that ends with you letting me kiss you goodnight. Isn’t that how most mating rituals work?”
Della moved until her chin rested on his shoulder. “You know what’s happening between us is just circumstantial. You’re probably just feeling grateful and looking for a way to express it. Next week our lives will return to normal and we’ll both be back to our non-dating busyness.”
“Will we?” Elliston asked. They danced a little longer with both of them silent. He got nervous about her non-reply. “If this is about Mariah and The Perfect Date, I’d happily pay the fee to go out with you.”
Della giggled and then sighed against the fabric of his jacket. “You’d actually pay all that money just to kiss me? That’s not very smart.”
“Well, I intend to make the kiss count,” Elliston said firmly. “I kiss well. Want a sample?”
“I thought geeks were supposed to be shy.”
“I thought serious girls weren’t supposed to be sexy. Looks like we were both wrong.”
People around them stopped moving. Her laughter over his teasing drew the same attention as before. He was getting used to it. In fact, he was starting to enjoy the way people looked at them like they were a real couple.
“Did you say something? I didn’t hear an answer,” Elliston said bluntly.
“Look, Elliston…”
A feminine hand on his shoulder interrupted their conversation.
“Elliston honey, I hate to break the news to you two, but the music stopped a few minutes ago. It’s time to go to dinner now. Turn your poor woman loose so she can come eat with us.”
Stunned by the news, they broke away from each other.
Both of them looked around at the exiting people before staring at their hostess in surprise.
Joyce shook her head at them and grinned. “Good Lord, you two are inspiring. Bert’s been a changed man this weekend after watching the sparks between you two flying around. I’m gonna make sure you both get invited to every one of his little retreats.”
A laughing Joyce turned and walked away. Her departure left them staring at each other.
“Did you hear the music stop?” Elliston asked finally.
“No. I never heard the music playing at all,” Della replied.
Laughing at her honest reply, Elliston took her hand and linked their fingers. “Let me apologize in advance for the teasing we’re about to receive.”
Della nodded. “I can’t even be offended. We deserve it this time.”
“I know. Come on before I turn into a gorilla and do something stupid,” Elliston said.
“Gorilla?” Della asked as he pulled her along.
Elliston grinned. “Yes. I’m available for research if you want to add my gorilla theory to your dissertation.”
“No. No. Keep your theories to yourself. It’s taken me five years to get this far. I’m not adding another darn thing to my mostly approved tome,” Della said firmly.
His laughter filled the now completely empty room. “Whatever you say, Dr. Livingston. Whatever you say.”
Chapter Five
Damn Bert and his celebrating.
“Just a little more, honey. We’re almost there,” Elliston said.
“I think it was the massage,” Della insisted, leaning heavily against Elliston’s side. “I didn’t drink enough water after all those toxins got moved around… and champagne has never agreed with me. Now here I am completely snookered as my father would say.”
Elliston laughed. “Your father says snookered?”
“Yes. And fudge. And drat. He doesn’t really swear,” Della explained.
Never Be Her Hero Page 4
