Can't Buy Me Love (8 page)

“We need to get back,” Meg said, her eyes belying no emotion.

“Meggy, you can’t just walk away from a kiss like that.”

He felt it, too. A connection as if their lips together completed a circuit. There was no other kiss like that in the entire world, the universe. A kiss that rocked her to her core.

“Kisses like that”—Cole stepped forward, close…too close…—“they don’t come about very often.”

Often?
So earth-shattering, firework-making, ground-vibrating kisses were a semi-regular occurrence for Cole? How about never for her. Never had she experienced such a soul-shattering kiss. And with it, perhaps the end of her future, or at the very least her career at Comnet.

“We are business associates,” Meg said. She willed her tone to remain light, noncommittal.

“We’re more than that,” Cole said. He bent his chin down and looked at her with those aqua-colored eyes. “I think we both know that we’re more than that, especially now.”

“I can’t…we can’t be more than that.” Meg said.

“Of course we can,” Cole said playfully. The right side of his mouth pulled upward into a playful smile. “I’m the boss.”

The boss.

Panic careened within Meg. Like the flip of a switch, the electricity stopped. Yes, Cole was the boss. Meg swallowed and looked into his eyes. She would not be known as his office tart. She would not become her mother. She’d spent a lifetime ensuring she never became her mother. Meg stepped away from Cole, lengthening the distance between them.

“Like I said, we are business associates and—” Meg’s BlackBerry vibrated in her purse. She pulled it out.
Comnet business affairs
flashed across the screen. She turned the phone so that Cole could see who was calling. “And we have a whole lot of work to accomplish before we return to Los Angeles.”

Meg placed the phone to her ear, spun away from Cole, and closed her eyes. Thank goodness for work. She would concentrate on work. She took a deep breath and answered her phone. “Hello, this is Meg.”

Chapter Nine

“You kissed Cole Jackson!” Prim shrieked into the phone.

“No, absolutely not.” Meg tried to escape the memory of Cole’s lips on hers. “He kissed me.”

Meg stood on the deck off her bedroom suite at Casa del Mar and watched the beach surrender to the bright blue waves. In the distance, Cole, shirtless, took his late afternoon run.

“Whatever, there was a liplock. What are you going to do?”

What
was
she going to do? She had to ignore the feelings that fought to shake her from her professionalism and make her into some shadow of her mother. She needed more from life than hastily left jobs and reckless relationships. Meg needed stability, continuity, security—all the things that an affair with her boss would definitely destroy.

 “I’m going to pretend it never happened, close the Morton deal, and get my promotion.”

“Forget you kissed Cole? Ha!” Prim chortled. “How could anyone forget kissing Cole Jackson? He’s absolutely the most kissable.”

“Not helping,” Meg said. “If not forget, then how about ignore. This is a blip in our relationship. This is not important. Besides I’m not his type—”

“I know!” Prim cut in. “He loves heiresses, and models, and actresses—absolutely gorgeous women.”

“Again, not helping,” Meg said.

“But that’s what makes
this
so different,” Prim said. “You’re not his usual lot as far as women are concerned. Plus, I’ve never heard a hint of Cole ever, you know, taking a dip in the company pond.”

The company pond was not a place in which Meg wanted to swim. People talked. Careers ended. Women cried and moved their children to the next big company town.

“What if this actually
means
something to him?” Prim asked. “What if he wants to date you? To—”

“Stop,” Meg said. She didn’t want to walk down that path—not even in the confines of her mind. “
That
isn’t going to happen.”

“You can say that now but this is Cole Jackson. One of the most charming men in the world, and maybe you haven’t noticed but also one of the best-looking.”

Yeah, she’d noticed. The sun glistened off of Cole’s sweaty body as he ran in what appeared to be an effortless near sprint. Gorgeous. Wealthy. Brilliant. Cole was magnificent in a myriad of ways, but he was also an impossibility where a relationship was concerned. Even if she had discovered a heart that beat deep within that gorgeously sweaty and well-muscled chest.

“He’s my
boss
.”

“Right, and I’m your best friend. I’m just saying you better have you’re a-game. Because if Cole puts on a full-court press, I don’t know a woman alive who could withstand that kind of pursuit.”

“I can.” She had to. Just because Cole believed in a happily-ever-after didn’t mean he wanted one.

“Heaven help you, lady,” Prim said. “I guess if it gets too tough you could always come and work at Metro Media with me. Ryan asked me again what you thought of his offer.”

“I think it’s incredibly generous,” Meg said. Cole cut across the beach toward the house. “But I’m not ready to leave Comnet. At least not yet.”

“It’s always a good thing for a girl to have choices. And girl, do you have a choice or what?”

Cole looked toward the beach house and Meg ducked into her room. To be caught staring at a nearly naked Cole glistening with sweat would only add more confusion to an already uncomfortable situation.

He
kissed
her.

And then she kissed him back. Not only kissed him, but writhed against him like a cat in heat. She’d pressed against him, grabbed his hair, even moaned.

Embarrassment coursed through Meg with the memory.

“What did I do?” she wailed.

“Shake it off, babe. You’ve got a big deal to close. Pretend it never happened.”

“Easy for you to say, you didn’t kiss your boss.”

“And I never will,” Prim said. “But I definitely would kiss yours.”

*

It was just a kiss.

Cole’s heart pounded in his chest as he pushed himself to run harder, faster, stronger. Anything to get the thought of Meg’s lips pressed against his out of his head. The surf pounded and Cole’s feet hit the sand, beat after beat after beat. That kiss…that kiss….that damn kiss.

Damnit. It wasn’t
just
a kiss.

He’d experienced “just”-type kisses from the finest-looking women in the world. Disposable kisses that meant nothing. They served a means to an end. Like a soda on a hot day, those kisses didn’t quench your thirst—they simply slaked your parched throat for a bit.

But Meg’s kiss? Cole raced faster across the sand. Her kiss was like clean cool water after walking through the Sahara.

That kiss had cracked a bit of him—as if a tendril of Meg actually reached through the giant stone wall he built to surround his heart, pushed through the tiniest crack, and lodged itself there. But a tendril could be ripped from the ground. A tendril could be cut, pulled, and tossed away. She stood on the deck of the beach house and wore the daintiest of white sundresses with her cell phone pressed to her ear.

Ache grabbed at his heart. She’d never wear such a dress to the office. Much too feminine. Much too sweet.

Cole tore his eyes from Meg and pushed himself to run. To stop thinking about this woman. This woman was dangerous to him in every way. She made him think of forevers and commitments and possibilities that he never dreamed existed for him since he’d lost his parents and been betrayed by his uncle.

Cole’s feet pounded up the steps to the beach house deck. He glanced once more toward Meg’s room. She’d disappeared inside. For that he was thankful. He didn’t want to see her. Didn’t trust himself. Family hurt you. People betrayed you. Better to build a higher, sturdier wall. Better to block that lovely tendril from ever finding a way into his heart.

The deal with TBC would close tonight. Then he and Meg would return to Los Angeles and he’d give her a fabulous promotion—everything she’d ever dreamed of obtaining. And then…then…he’d block Meg from his view.

*

An hour later, Meg stood before the full-length mirror in her room and surveyed the brown dress she had purchased that afternoon. The color looked like wet dead leaves and washed out her fair coloring. The loose fit and empire waist covered her from the top of her neck to well below her knees. She looked like a cross between a monk and a Dominican nun.

Perfect.

There’d be no mistaking what she was after tonight. Not sex. Not love. Not a relationship with her boss. She was after the closure of a deal. She would be taken seriously. Appreciated for her mind, her astute business acumen, her—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Meg opened the door and there stood Manuel. He held a white rectangular box with a bright red bow.

“This came for you.” Manuel held the box toward her.

She didn’t want a present.

“I hear that the contents are most beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Meg said.

She cautiously took the box from him. Instead of the excitement that normally accompanied a gift, Meg’s heart filled with dread. She placed the box on the bed and paced the bedroom. That box had to be from Cole. She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to open the box but she had no other choice. She couldn’t pretend that she had never received it. Meg rubbed her temples. Finally, she pulled the tail of the silk bow and slipped off the lid. She pushed away the tissue paper and gasped. Her heart clutched tight in her chest, and her fingertips found her lips.

The red dress.

Oh, how she loved this dress, and yet this dress represented every bit of herself she didn’t want to show. Every part of her that wasn’t meant for her boss to know existed. She was meant to be calm, collected, brainy. Not flashy and beautiful. Flashy and beautiful sent the wrong messages. Flashy and beautiful got you banished and even worse, fired. Meg picked up the small white card that lay on the smooth fabric and slipped the note from its envelope. Three words.

Wear this.

Cole

A wobble began in her knees and forced her to sit on her bed. This wasn’t a request, nor a thank you, nor a term of endearment, but an order. An order of which she was required to comply. Her worst fears were coming true. The very reason that she didn’t tell a soul about her feelings for Cole. She peeked through her fingers at the dress that lay in the box.

Wear this.

Did Cole think she was his toy to play with while they were in Costa Rica? A doll to dress up? A woman who would trade her body and his pleasure for her own financial gain? There was a word for that kind of woman and it wasn’t
executive
.

She lifted the red dress from the box. Beneath her fingertips the silk felt warm, energized, as if the dress was made especially for her. Confusion rolled through Meg. A confident woman would wear this red dress. She wanted to wear this dress and be taken seriously. Was it possible to do both? Meg stood and unzipped the brown bag of a dress—she had no choice but to find out.

*

Cole’s jaw dropped and his mind stalled. All he saw was red. And long, long legs capped by a lovely pair of open-toe red heels. A swanlike neck, brilliantly white and imminently kissable. Brown hair swept up with tiny little tendrils teasing him. And bright blue eyes.

Desire throbbed through him, constricting every muscle in his body. Cole mustered every ounce of strength to remain in one spot. To not bolt across the living room and grab Meg, lift her up, carry her to his room, and rip the little red dress he’d purchased for her off her body.

He wanted to expose her pretty little nipples and alabaster skin, to cover her with long hot kisses, tease her and please her with his tongue until her hips arched and she called his name and begged him to make her his. He wanted her, and not as he had wanted other women. Cole wanted Meg like a man wanted to possess something not as a temporary plaything, but as something he would keep.

Damnit. This kind of want was dangerous.

“Ready?” Meg asked. She cocked her hip and bent one knee with an effortless motion and Cole nearly dropped to the floor.

He cleared his throat and looked away. Surely she saw his intentions all over his face

“Do you need a wrap?” Cole asked. “It may be chilly.”

He wanted to cover her, to keep this vision of her for only himself. He didn’t want any other man to see this. To know what a treasure he possessed.

“I’ll be fine,” Meg said, and sauntered past him toward the front door. The twist of her hip as she walked by him worked much like a hypnotist’s pocket watch. He couldn’t rip his eyes from her perfectly curved ass.

“Cole? Are you okay?”

Jolted by the sound of her voice, he cleared his throat. Perhaps the dress was more than he had bargained for.

“Of course,” Cole lied, and walked quickly to the door.

Chapter Ten

“That isn’t exactly how I remember it,” Allison Morton said, and stirred sugar into her after-dinner coffee. “As I remember it, I waited nearly six months for you to notice me and another six months for you to ask me out.”

Stan smiled the smile of a man still desperately in love with his wife. “Well, it didn’t take six months for me to notice you. It only took two days. I called Sylvia in human resources the minute you got to the tenth floor.”

“So it took you a full year to ask me out?” Allison asked.

Stan turned his gaze toward Meg with a grin and a pleading look. “Help an old guy out?”

Meg enjoyed the repartee between husband and wife. The entire evening had been filled with Stan and Allison’s stories and finally, after the plates were cleared and the after-dinner drinks served, they’d gotten around to the best story of all. The story of Allison and Stan’s first date.

“How could I possibly ask you out?” Stan asked. “You worked for me.”

Allison tilted her coffee cup to her lips. Her eyes danced with a smile. Meg never had a template for a happy marriage—her parents broke up before she was five. What a wonderful thing to see a couple flirt after forty years of marriage.