Chasing Temptation (12 page)

Lynne slid past him, and her breast brushed his arm. He bit the inside of his lip to keep from groaning. He cleared his throat and directed his comment at Eloise.

“I promise to bring her back at a reasonable time. This is a business dinner. Only.”

“Right,” Eloise dismissed his comment. “You kids have fun.” She closed the door behind them.

Lynne hadn’t waited for him. The driver held the door open, and she climbed in. He knew she was probably pissed at him for the way he’d acted earlier. His actions had been unprofessional, but Eloise had seemed interested. More so than Lynne had been since he first propositioned her. He shrugged off the guilt.

It was business.

But when he slid inside the rented car next to Lynne, he wondered who the hell he was fooling? This deal bordered on torture, insanity, and pleasure. She crossed her legs at the knee and his gaze followed the bare golden-toned calf. The straps of her shoes sparkled in the false light. Plain red toenail polish. His shoulders tightened.

“Something to drink?” He motioned to the chilled champagne.

“My, my. You went all out for little ol’ me.”

“It’s customary to put your best foot forward.”

She stared at him for a moment. “Business. You can’t see it for anything else, can you?”

He could. He just refused to. “Because that’s exactly what’s between us.”

“What color is my toenail polish?”

He ignored the question, reaching forward to pour champagne into a flute. He handed her a glass. She took it, but didn’t sip.

“You don’t like that question,” she said.

She leaned over, close enough that if he were a weaker man he could sniff the air around her. Inhale the very essence of what made Lynne, Lynne.

“Let’s try...” She lowered her voice, her breath wispy along his ear lobe. “Am I wearing underwear?”

Nate hadn’t noticed, but now he wanted to know. Needed to. He shifted to face her.

“Are you upset that I talked to your mother about our business...” Taking a moment to sip from the glass, he searched for the right word.

No matter how much he wanted to get them back to a more acceptable relationship–business and business only–spending time with Lynne to make cookies, kissing her in a heated kitchen—both of them covered in flour, didn’t exactly make a professional relationship.

“You can’t even pick a word for what we are, so how can you try to apologize for your behavior? To be honest, I don’t know either. We haven’t talked about what happened in the kitchen.”

“It was–”

“Don’t.” She finished for him before Nate found the words.

“Confusing,” he decided on. “I usually go into these situations and get the job done. I don’t dally.”

“Dally? As in dalliance?” She smiled. “You sound like a Brit.”

“It’s just the proper word to use here. It’s not a one-night stand, but it doesn’t have much weight behind it.”

She took a sip and, hummed her approval. “Can’t call it an affair either. Our hearts aren’t involved in this. Same overall goal and mutual attraction.” She nodded in agreement. “Still doesn’t make it okay to talk to my mother about what’s going on.”

“There’s a history there, between your mother and you, and I don’t want to get in the way of it.” The words left his mouth without conscious thought.
This was business.

“Lies,” she murmured. “You want to know more so you can write it down in a notebook somewhere to use when it’s convenient. I should be totally turned off by you.”

Her eyes, taking stock of him, almost did him in. Those eyes weren’t turned off by what they saw.

“I take pride in how I attain all the information on my opponent.”

“You’re not even in my league, Mr. Craine.”

When she uncrossed her legs, and his gaze followed the movement, he had to concede that point. “Tell me about your mother.” He lifted his hands as if in a truce. “I don’t even have a notebook.”

“Fill my glass. I’m going to need it.”

He did and handed it back to her.

She sighed. “As you can see, she’s a home-and-hearth type of woman.”

He thought of his own mother, who had tried her best to do that with the limited funds they had. “Not a bad thing.”

“It is when your parent expects you to follow the same cow path. I’m not home and hearth.”

“You could be if you wanted to.” He frowned at her. “I've seen you with Jeremy, hell the townfolk. You're kind, thoughtful. You're just not the picture of home and hearth.”

“You're seriously deluded by your sexual attraction.” She smiled. “It's kind of cute.”

His frown deepened. “I don't do cute. Your argument is weak. You can make cookies from scratch.”

She shook her head in disagreement. “That’s a learned skill. Trust me. She made sure I had all the skills of a perfect housewife. Not a bad thing, but it wasn’t for me.”

“Your dad?”

“We kind of agreed we would stick to my mom.”

He chuckled. “No, we didn’t.”

“Where are we going?” She took another sip. “I should slow down on my drinking. I might dance on a tabletop at this rate.”

“Sounds like you would agree to anything. Need a refill?” He took a sip from his own flute to hide his smile.

She gave him a pointed stare. “She used to buy me these frilly little sundresses. Then I started to fill out. The boys noticed, and I noticed right back.” She tilted her head and smiled wistfully. “That was my leave-nothing-to-the-imagination phase. I could have knocked my mother over with a feather the first time I wore a very low, v-neck shirt. You couldn’t put a quarter in my jeans they were so tight.”

Nate closed his eyes to imagine. He opened them again because it was too easy. “We’ll be there in half an hour.”

He could see her mind going to work. To distract her, he topped off her glass.

“So,” he said, “you’ve spent all your adult life trying not to be like your mother.”

“In a way. In another I was trying to find my own path.”

“You settled on a wannabe, punk rocker.”

“No, a goth, punk rocker with Lynne flair. Now tell me about your mother.”

His gaze skimmed down and he grunted. “You wouldn’t have a notebook in that dress?”

“Still trying to figure out if I have on underwear? If you ask nicely, I’ll tell you.”

He forced his mind elsewhere.
This is business.
“My mother is like any mother.”

Silence followed his statement.

“You can do better than that. Is she tall? Short? Grumpy? Kindhearted? Do you have her eyes?”

Like her dress, her voice brushed against him like silk. It made him think of sex. He forced his mind back on the subject. “My mother is straightforward, strong, and forgiving.”

An expression crossed her face. He'd seen it before. It was the one Lynne wore when she was trying to see through his words. “You love her. You want her to be proud of you.”

“I didn’t say anything–”

“You don’t have to. I thought we settled on the fact we can read each other.”

“It’s a defense mechanism.”

“One of them, yes. You don’t like to have feelings. It’s strange. You use other people's feelings against them, but you try not to have any of your own. Why?”

“We also agreed we wouldn’t do this.” His tone came out harsh.

“You messed up and asked me on a date,” she snapped right back. “You get what you pay for.”

“I haven’t even bought you dinner yet. And it’s a business dinner.”

“And back in college I thought it was a cigarette.” Her mouth kicked into a smile. “So maybe if we say our lies enough times, we'll believe them.”

She crossed her legs again and his gaze drunk in the smooth calf, up to her thigh. Wished like hell the dress was an inch or two shorter. Despite the circumstances, he was getting hard and imagining ways to remedy it.

“You’re wearing a thong.” He guessed with a gruff voice. “You’re not the type to go commando unless you know it would drive the other person crazy.”

She ran a finger down his lapel, tapped at his heart. “Would it drive you crazy?”

It had been, and he’d had to say the thong thing to ease his mind, but he wasn’t going to admit it. “Why won’t you sell to me? You can open up a few shops with the money I’m offering.”

“Not everything has a price tag. We seem to keep repeating things to each other.” She sighed. “Why do you want my store? You can buy anyone else’s store on the block.”

“Because we're hardheaded. Some things bear repeating. Everything has a price tag, and I just want yours.”

“For the businessman you pride yourself on being, that’s a lame answer. There’s a story there.”

She used his phrase against him. He shouldn't have liked her for it, but he did. Once again he was reminded Lynne wasn’t the woman he’d pegged her for.

“We’re at an impasse,” he said.

“Then give me more.” She handed him her empty glass. “And after this one nothing, or I can’t be held accountable for my actions.”

He felt light-headed himself. “Agreed. We won’t touch any more until we get to the restaurant. Then I’ll ply you with more liquor until you tell me all your secrets.”

“Only if you tell me yours.”

Nate wanted to. Being around her made his tie feel too tight. He always had the urge to loosen it, just once. Succumbing one time would be all he could allow himself.

“Secrets, huh?” He shook his head before saying, “I watch infomercials late at night.”

She laughed, but nodded. “I consider peanut butter cookies with chocolate chips a full course meal.”

“I prefer paper plates so I don’t have to keep washing dishes.”

“The times I do miss my mother, I pull out the works: soup spoons, salad forks, cloth napkins, fine china, and I’ll make a full meal. Then when I’m done, I eat kettle popcorn off fine bone china like it’s dessert.”

He couldn’t stop the laugh. “If this was a contest, you'd win.”

She smirked. “I keep trying to tell you this.”

The car stopped moving, and he glanced out the window. The restaurant appeared sedate from the outside. A medium-sized plaque placed in a rock wall showcased the name. The restaurant looked more like a hotel with its second story looming above them. Despite its appearance, the restaurant provided the best.

He waited for the driver to open the door, then stepped out, and reached back for Lynne’s hand. She slid across the seat, and when she stood next to Nate, he tried his best not to double-check if she did in fact have on a thong.

As if reading his mind, she smiled, and settled her hand on his offered arm.

She gestured to the sign. “I’ve heard of this place. Very nice choice for a first date.”

Exasperated, he huffed. “It’s not a date.”

“As you keep saying, but your eyes keep straying. Do you always mentally undress your business competition?”

“Most are retirees or people who inherited a business they really didn’t want.”

“Is that why you're having to work so hard this time?”

He opened the restaurant's door and let her go in first before answering, “No. Everybody has a price.”

An expression crossed her face, one that could only be described as pity. “You have a low opinion of people.”

“I’ve yet to meet someone who doesn’t take the offer.” He smiled. “As I keep telling you.”

“I’m not sure if you're confident or arrogant. It’s a fine line.”

“It’s confident or conceited, but it is a fine line.” He corrected and then let out a breath. “At the very least, can you let me woo you a little tonight? Business wise,” he added.

She didn’t seem perturbed by his adamant stance this wasn’t a date. Lynne inclined her head. “I will. Oh.” She leaned over before they reached the maitre d’. “I don’t have on underwear.”

He forced himself not to check and focused on the older man standing in front of them. “Reservations. Craine.”

The man confirmed the reservation in the book on the podium and nodded. “Right this way.”

Lynne slid her hand down his arm and moved in front of him. Nate lifted his gaze to the back of her neck. He wasn’t going to watch her hips swing seductively. This was a business dinner. He was not going to think of her naked, sweaty, or moaning.

Nate lost the battle and let his gaze stray down. He let out a soft groan.

She wasn’t just teasing him. This was going to be a very long dinner.

*****

Lynne wanted to sport a large grin as Nate struggled to keep his professional attitude in place. She had decided he was arrogant. At the very least it was annoying, because she had no doubt he’d been proven right time after time, but he seemed like a man who would revise an earlier stance if he were wrong.

Lynne hoped so, because she was sighing over how handsome he looked under the dim lights in the restaurant. His thick brows furrowed as he explained why it would be such a wonderful idea to sell her soul to him. The focus behind the gaze made his irises appear amber.

He said, his voice smoother than butter, “Think of all the possibilities.”

“I am,” she replied, but not in the sense he meant.

He tilted his head back and chuckled. “You haven’t been listening.”

She flicked her wrist in an airy gesture. “I’ve heard it a million times.”

He frowned. “I haven’t given you this speech before.”

“Doesn’t mean I haven’t heard it.” Lynne thought of her father.

Amazing how a man who had such a great head for business couldn’t wrap it around obvious signs his family needed more from him. Her rebellious years, for one, should have made him stop, maybe for a moment, to see if he could talk her out it. Or even to ground her. Maybe once. Instead he talked to her about corporate takeovers.

Lynne gazed into Nate's eyes. He suffered the same problem, except he would listen to her. He had the first time they met and every time since then. Too bad listening didn't equal acting on the person's request though.

She said, “You’ve listed all the reasons why continuing with my little venture won’t turn out to be a multi-billion dollar asset. Slightly insulting my business intelligence, but praising me for making a go of it, taking a risk. You've also made a point to remind me you have my best interest at heart. Since I wasn't paying that much attention, you would have or already have concluded that this deal has a time limit. Time is money and my time on this sweet deal is running out. Did I miss anything?”