Loving the CEO (bundle of five romance novels)

by Noelle Adams

  “Not bitter. Just wary.”

  “What about you?” she demanded, feeling vulnerable in the face of his perception. “You’re too much of a workaholic to even date someone for real. When was the last time you trusted someone with your heart?”

  His lips tightened.

  “Well?” she prompted, when he didn’t answer.

  “Wasn’t that a rhetorical question?”

  “No. I want to know. If you think I’m so damaged—”

  “I never said you were damaged—”

  “Whatever. If you think I’m so burned by Baron that I can’t jump into love again, what about you? What exactly burned you?”

  She knew Luke well—maybe better than anyone else—but even she didn’t really know the answer to that question. Luke was a great listener and a very engaging conversationalist, but everything personal about him she had to learn indirectly. Never from his willingly sharing it with her.

  “Nothing burned me.”

  She arched her eyebrows.

  “That’s the truth. I haven’t had any tragic love affairs.” He cut his eyes away from her briefly. “I just prefer to do what I’m good at.”

  “What do you mean? You’re good at almost everything.”

  “I’m good at business. I’m not good at relationships.”

  She thought about that for a long time, the admission ringing true with her somehow. She enjoyed a rising sense of emotional closeness with him, since his opening up in any way wasn’t an everyday occurrence. Finally, she concluded, “I’m not good at relationships either.”

  “Sure you are. You’ve got more friends than you could talk to in a year.”

  “I meant I’m not good at romantic relationships.”

  He smiled at her—the warm, full smile she rarely saw, the one that always took her breath away. “That’s because you always pick the wrong man.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh, overwhelmed with a wave of familiarity and affection for him. He might be a workaholic businessman who tried to compartmentalize his life to the point of absurdity, but he was still a really good guy.

  She responded to the feeling, leaning over to give him a friendly hug. “Well, I picked you to marry, so what does that say about you?”

  For just a moment, he hugged her back. “I’m just lucky, I guess.”

  Her breath hitched at the slight thickness of his voice, and she pulled back. Her eyes searched his face, trying to figure out whether he was being ironic or not.

  “Do you want Thai?” Luke asked, shifting slightly in his seat.

  “What?”

  “Thai?” he repeated. “You said you were hungry.”

  “Oh. Yeah. I am.” She shook away her momentary distraction. “Only I don’t really want to go out.”

  “We can pick it up and take it home.”

  Molly perked up at the prospect of Thai food and decided she must have imagined any strangeness just now.

  *

  A half-hour later, she sat on the floor watching a cable news channel. She hadn’t wanted to change clothes before she ate, so she’d just slipped off her shoes and spread a napkin in her lap.

  Her dress wasn’t really made for sitting on the floor, but she made do, tugging down the hem of her skirt when it got hiked up too much.

  Luke was going through emails on his tablet as he ate, so he sat in a chair. The only gesture toward relaxing was taking off his suit jacket and sliding off his shoes.

  She wasn’t finished eating when Luke stood up. Instead of leaving the room, as she expected, he just looked at her.

  She stared up at him. Since her mouth was full, she gave him a questioning look.

  He lowered his lean body to the floor beside her. “I want to renegotiate terms.

  Molly groaned. “Come on, Luke. We just did that three months ago, and it took ages to reach an agreement.”

  “Even so.” His expression didn’t change. He looked matter-of-fact and businesslike, as he always did. His brief vulnerability in the car had disappeared.

  “Fine. But I’ve already bumped it up to six social events a month. If you want me to go to even more, then you’re going to have to give me something big.” When he opened his mouth to reply, she spoke over him. “I mean, really big. Like I do one fewer job for you a year. No more client referrals. I’ve already got more business than I can handle, so that’s not going to do it for me.”

  “It isn’t about more social events. Six is adequate.”

  “Oh. Then what is it?”

  Luke glanced away from her momentarily. Then he met her gaze, his eyes bland and steady. “We agreed that, in terms of sexual activity, the only acceptable outlet for either of us is discreet professionals.”

  Molly blinked, taken by surprise. “That was your idea, since dating outside of our marriage would have gotten in the way of the stable reputation you were trying to build.”

  Luke, of course, hadn’t wanted to stop having sex altogether when they got married. So they’d agreed that either one of them could use the services of a high-priced, very discreet escort service. Molly, early on, had tried it. She’d been bitter enough to think it might be the best, easiest way to have sex. It hadn’t been exciting or satisfying, though. It had felt weird and unnatural. So, for almost three years, she’d taken care of her sexual urges with a small collection of mechanical devices.

  Luke, she assumed, made use of call girls regularly. They’d agreed never to have such encounters in the apartment, so he probably went to hotel rooms. She didn’t think about it much.

  “Yes, it was my idea, but I would like it to change,” Luke responded. “I’m finding that unsatisfying.”

  Molly frowned, feeling a little sick as she processed his words. “Well, I’m sorry. I don’t want to be unreasonable, but you can’t have a girlfriend. It would be…it would be humiliating. Everyone would think you were cheating on me.”

  She wondered if he had met someone. Perhaps that was what had prompted this. Irrationally, she didn’t like the idea at all.

  He was a classic workaholic—often at his office eighteen hours a day when he wasn’t traveling. She bleakly wondered when he’d even have time to hook up with someone regularly.

  “I don’t want a girlfriend. If I wanted a girlfriend, we could simply end our marriage. I don’t want to do that. In fact, I don’t want anything significant about our agreement to change. I simply want to adjust this one item.” He glanced away again, his eyes resting on the large, flat screen of the television.

  “Then I don’t understand. If you want to have sex with someone other than a call girl but you don’t want a girlfriend, then what exactly do you want?”

  Luke cleared his throat and cut his eyes back to her. “I want to have sex with you.”

  Two

  Molly waved a greeting to one of the security guards in the entrance lobby of Luke’s corporate headquarters before heading up the elevator to the top floor.

  She wasn’t sure of Luke’s schedule. She knew he was working in his office today, but he might be in a meeting. She almost hoped he was busy, so she could just leave the thick accordion folder with his assistant instead of actually talking to him.

  Since he’d dropped the bombshell on her the night before about their having sex, she’d been tempted to avoid him completely. She’d even overslept that morning on purpose.

  But it seemed weak and petty to send her assistant, Rachel, to do this errand when Molly was going to be in the neighborhood anyway for another appointment. So she’d made herself do it.

  It was entirely possible Luke would be in a meeting.

  As Molly entered the executive suite, Luke’s administrative assistant, Nancy, gave her a warm smile. “We weren’t expecting you, Mrs. Lyons.”

  “I know. I just dropped by to give these documents back to Luke—from the job we just finished for him. If he’s busy, I can just leave them—”

  “Oh, no. He doesn’t start the meeting for another thirty minutes.”

 
Molly let out her breath with a sinking of disappointment. “Okay. Is he in there?” She nodded toward his office door.

  “No. He’s in the conference room preparing for the meeting. You can go on back if you want.”

  The conference room door was shut, so Molly tapped on it before swinging it open. “Hey, I just came by to—”

  She stopped talking abruptly when her eyes landed on Luke.

  He wore a tailored charcoal gray suit today, and he stood at the head of the conference table. He held a clicker in his hand, and he’d obviously been moving through slides of the presentation projected onto the screen behind him. But that wasn’t why Molly had stopped short.

  Luke wasn’t wearing any shoes or socks.

  “What are you doing?” she asked in a slightly choked voice, staring down at his bare feet on the expensive carpeting.

  He arched his eyebrows and gave an impressive attempt at cool nonchalance. “Preparing for my meeting. What are you doing here?”

  “Just bringing this stuff back.” She set the file on the polished table. “Where are you shoes?”

  “There.” He indicated the expensive shoes and black socks that were lined up neatly underneath the chair. “Thanks for bringing the documents by, but there was really no hurry. This meeting will start soon so—”

  “Oh, no,” Molly objected. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Nancy said the meeting wasn’t for another half-hour, and I’m not leaving until I find out about the shoes.”

  Luke released a resigned sigh that was almost a groan. “It’s how I prepare for meetings.”

  “But why?”

  He gave another attempt at a superior, detached gaze. “One should use whatever strategy is most effective for achieving one’s goal.”

  At his lofty words and expression, Molly burst into sudden, helpless laughter.

  It was so deliciously ironic. Luke—cool, controlled master of any room—prepared for a meeting barefoot and then tried to pass it off as deliberate strategy.

  He cleared this throat. “If you’re just going to mock…”

  “Damn right, I’m going to mock. I had no idea you went through this little ritual.”

  “It’s not something I tend to tell people.” He’d dropped his lofty look and now looked half-amused and half-embarrassed. “Nancy is supposed to keep people from coming in while I’m preparing.”

  “She probably didn’t think you needed privacy from your wife.” She’d managed to control her hilarity, although she was still flooded with warm amusement. “But, seriously, why do you take off your shoes?”

  He shook his head and glanced away. “I’ve always done it.”

  “But how did it start?” She knew Luke didn’t want to share, but she wanted to know.

  “When I was twelve, I had to give a speech in class.” His expression changed in a way she couldn’t quite pinpoint. “I was scared, so my mother told me to practice barefoot and then, when I got up there, to think about the feel of my shoes beneath my feet instead of all the people watching me.”

  “And it worked?”

  He shrugged. “I made it through the speech.”

  “And you still do it?”

  “It’s just a habit. Not necessary anymore.”

  She peered at his expression and realized what he was trying to shrug off, keep her from recognizing. “You’re shy?”

  “I was as a kid.”

  “But you talk to people all day long—you’re the über-schmoozer.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “You’re really shy?”

  “I said I was as a kid.” He was starting to look a little impatient, beyond his diffidence. “Not now.”

  “It’s doesn’t go away completely, though, does it? That’s why you still do the barefoot thing. No one would believe it. Everyone always thinks you’re cool as a cucumber in every situation.”

  “That’s what they’re supposed to think.”

  Molly experienced a sudden wave of deep fondness, feeling like she knew Luke now in a way she never had before. He wasn’t really as untouchable as he tried to make the world believe.

  It shouldn’t have been a revelation to her, but it was.

  She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “You’re absolutely adorable.”

  He cleared his throat again. “This feels like more mockery.”

  “It’s not. It’s really not.” She hugged him and was pleased when he hugged her back.

  The hug lasted longer than she’d expected, and she felt awkward when she finally pulled away. She was aware of Luke’s lean, hard body as it had pressed against hers and the softness of his eyes.

  She was also aware of the fact that he wanted to have sex with her. He’d told her so last night.

  “Since you’re in a touchy mood,” he began, his expression and tone transforming.

  “Luke—”

  “I’m not going to just let it go, not without a real discussion. I realize I took you by surprise, but you’ve had time to think about it since then.”

  “We can’t talk about it here.”

  “At home tonight?”

  She made a face while he sat down in his chair and started pulling on his socks and shoes. “Fine. We can talk tonight.”

  *

  Molly stayed at work until after seven in the evening, because she had a lot to do and she was dreading the conversation with Luke.

  When she got home, she dumped her satchel and purse in their normal place on the entry hall floor. She checked the mail and poured herself a glass of red wine. Then she wandered the apartment to discover that Luke wasn’t yet home.

  He must have worked late too, which wasn’t at all unusual.

  Molly was tired and her feet hurt from walking too far in her heels, so she drew herself a hot bath and left her clothes in a heap on the floor before stepping into the tub.

  She sipped her wine and soaked in the gently churning water, her body relaxing deliciously. Her mind couldn’t relax, though.

  She just couldn’t figure out how or why Luke had gotten this sex idea into his head.

  She knew he wasn’t nursing any romantic feelings about her. She knew Luke was more sensitive—he felt things more deeply—than he wanted anyone to know. It was certainly possible for him to fall in love, and, if he ever did, he’d give his heart forever. But he couldn’t be in love with her. He’d approached the whole thing in the same neutral, matter-of-fact way he approached a business negotiation.

  Definitely not a man in love.

  Molly soaked in her tub for way too long, until the water was lukewarm and her wine was long gone. Finally, she got out and put on man-style pajamas of a lovely white Egyptian cotton. She went into the living room, turned on the TV, and stretched out on the leather couch, covering up with her favorite cashmere throw.

  She intended to watch the old movie she’d flipped on, but she was asleep in less than ten minutes.

  When she woke up, she was aware of a delicious pressure on her feet. Her heels were now resting on something firmer than the leather couch.

  She managed to open her eyes and saw Luke sitting at the end of the couch with her feet in his lap. “Hi,” she said, her voice cracking as she tried to wake up.

  “Hi.” He was massaging her right foot in a way that felt absolutely delicious. He wasn’t usually a touchy person. In fact, when they were alone, he rarely initiated touching of any kind except a hand on her back to hurry her along. The foot rub was very nice, though, so Molly wasn’t about to question it.

  “How was your meeting?” she asked.

  “Fine. No surprises.” Luke dug his thumbs into the ball of her foot, and it felt so good she closed her eyes and sighed hoarsely. “You should really wear different shoes.”

  “I like my shoes.” She shifted on the couch as the stimulated nerves in her foot sent ripples of pleasure and relaxation through her entire body. She managed to say, “But don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”

  Luke’s
fingers moved down until he was kneading her arch. “What am I doing?”

  Her whole body softened, and her breathing thickened as she gave herself up to the massage. It took more focus than it should have for her to say, “You’re just trying to butter me up so I’ll be more amenable to your renegotiations.”

  “And how’s it working?” His voice had more texture than normal. He switched to her left foot and gave it the same delicious treatment.

  “I’m happy to be buttered,” she said, rather foolishly. She moaned out loud when he found a particularly sore spot just under the ball of her foot. “But I still think your proposal is crazy.”

  “It’s not crazy. It’s just common sense. We’re married. There’s no reason why sex shouldn’t be part of the marriage.”

  “You’re assuming I want to have sex with you.” Her eyes had been shut, but she opened them just enough to check his expression through her lashes. She liked Luke. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

  His feelings didn’t appear to be hurt. His mouth just tilted up slightly. “I think you will want to have sex with me, once you entertain the idea.”

  “Kind of smug, aren’t you?” She’d been going to say more, but he returned to that sensitive spot on her foot and applied hard pressure with his thumbs.

  It felt so good she gasped, “Oh, God, Luke!” and shifted restlessly on the couch.

  Luke shifted slightly too, but his massage didn’t falter. “I like you, Molly. I respect you. We get along well. And I find you attractive. If you genuinely don’t want to have sex with me, then I’ll drop the subject for good. But I’m not sure that’s the case. I think it’s because you’ve never considered the possibility. Nothing would change about our arrangement except the sex. So why don’t we give it a try? If it’s not good, we won’t continue.”

  His words actually made some degree of sense to her. They were consenting adults. They respected each other. Sex didn’t necessarily have to be a big deal. Maybe they could enjoy it as a perk of their marriage, without it getting overly complicated.

  Luke was very different from Baron. Molly wasn’t in danger of being swept off her feet by him.

  His massage moved from her foot to her ankle and then up to her calf. He seemed uncannily attuned to all of her sensitive spots, and she unconsciously bent her arms up around her head and arched her back as the sensations travelled through her spine.