Her Sexy Valentine (6 page)

Carol stood mesmerized by the alien sight of snow falling in Atlanta until she realized that there would be no going home to snuggle up with a good, erotic book. She was stranded at the Mystic Touch office. And she had two choices: return to her office and massage more paperwork…or go to the Valentine's Day company party.

The low throbbing in her temples from the bump on the head she'd received this morning made the thought of scrutinizing spreadsheets unbearable.

The party seemed to be the lesser of the two evils.

So she trudged back to the elevator and rode
down to the basement, unwinding her scarf from her neck. She could hear the noise of the party even before the elevator stopped. When the doors opened, the full force of music, laughter and voices blasted her. Her stomach churned—she didn't want to be here, and she couldn't think of a single person who wanted her here.

She stepped off the elevator, feeling self-conscious in her winter coat, thinking she should've returned to her office and dropped her things there. Instead she stood there holding her briefcase awkwardly while everyone else held a glass of pink punch.

A few heads turned in her direction, but after a quick downturn of their mouths, they turned away. The blatant snub sliced through her, but she kept scanning, looking for a friendly face.

She landed on Luke. He caught sight of her and his expression turned from surprise to something else that accompanied a smile. He said something to the person he was talking to, then turned and walked in her direction.

It seemed silly now that she'd dug in her
heels about not attending the party. Heat rose in her cheeks as he stopped in front of her.

“Snow,” he said with a grin. “What brings you back?”

“Snow,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Huh?”

“It's snowing.” She pointed to the ceiling. Since the basement had no windows, everyone else was oblivious to the outside conditions. “A blizzard, actually.”

“So you're stranded.” Then he made a rueful noise. “I'm sorry—you probably don't feel like being here. Tracy told me about the bump on the head. You should've told me that's why you didn't want to come to the party. I would've left you alone.”

His concern left her flustered and her tongue suddenly didn't work.

“Let me take your coat,” he offered, reaching to help her out of the heavy garment. “In fact, let's put your coat and briefcase in the storage room.”

She followed him slowly, wondering if people were watching them as they disappeared down the hallway. Sadly, though, everyone
seemed keen on ignoring her. He unlocked the door of the storage room, then he grabbed her hand and pulled her inside, allowing the door to close behind them.

Her pulse rocketed. “Luke, what are you doing?”

He flipped on the lights, then smiled at her. “Sorry. Overkill, I know, just to give you a Valentine's gift.” He hung her coat on a hook, then reached high on a shelf and removed a heart-shaped box of chocolates. When he turned back to her, he looked sheepish.

“It's silly, I guess. I saw this and it reminded me of you.”

Carol felt flush with pleasure—until she looked at the box. A large snowflake adorned the top. That was her—cold as ice…like an icicle. The card he'd slipped in her tote bag taunted her. “Very funny,” she said, handing it back to him.

His eyebrows drew together. “What do you mean?”

Hurt barbed through her chest. “I get the whole frosty, cold-as-ice thing. I know what people say about me, that they call me Ice
Princess.” She turned and reached for her coat. “This was a bad idea—I think I'll wait out the storm in my office.”

His fingers encircled her wrist. “Hey.”

She turned back and looked up at him.

“That's not how I think of you,” he said, his brown eyes pensive. “I bought the candy because of the snowflake—get it…? Snow…flake?”

Carol wet her lips. She wanted to believe him…but why would Luke Chancellor buy her candy?

“Sorry if I overreacted,” she said. “I'm sure you bought candy for other coworkers.”

“No,” he said, then pulled her closer. “Just you, Snow.”

His mouth lowered toward hers. She expected him to pull back at the last second, but instead, suddenly, his warm lips were on hers. It was jolting, the sense of connection, like she was being plugged into a socket. His tongue swept against hers, sending shock waves of desire coursing through her limbs. It had been so long since she'd felt these sensations that everything seemed new…fresh. Her mind and body
reeled from the raw power in Luke's probing kiss.

He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “I've been wanting to do that for so long.”

Her chest rose and fell as she struggled to fill her lungs. She couldn't form words. How could she tell him that he'd just tapped into a deep, still well…unleashed a cataclysmic reaction in her body…awakened a sleeping giant? He couldn't know the depths to which she'd buried her sexual soul…and how amazing it felt to have it resurrected.

He wiped his hand over his mouth. “If you're going to slap me, get it over with.”

She lifted her hand, then curled it around his neck and pulled his lips down on hers, hard.

Luke moaned into her mouth and the vibration echoed through her body. He pulled her against him and their hands were frenzied, roaming over each other's bodies. He smoothed his palms down her back and pulled her sex against the hardened ridge of his erection. The physical proof of what they were about to do made Carol dizzy with lust. He picked her up
by the waist and set her on a table, then slid up her skirt so she could spread her knees.

“Wait,” she said, then nodded to the door. “What if someone knows how to get in?”

He left her long enough to wedge a straight-back chair under the doorknob, then returned to her with a vengeance, wedging himself between her thighs.

Carol's pumps fell off with succeeding thuds. She leaned back on her hands to brace herself, then squeezed his hips with her knees. Her breasts, her sex, her entire body throbbed with anticipation.

“Oh, no,” he murmured suddenly, then put a hand to his head. “I don't have a condom. I'm sorry.”

She winced, but pulled his mouth back to hers. “Then we'll have to be creative.” She was taking a huge risk—she wasn't sexually experienced and James hadn't been particularly adventurous. She'd have to draw on what she'd learned between the pages of the erotic novels she'd read and hope that her enthusiasm would make up for her lack of expertise.

Luke's response was fierce, his tongue stab
bing into her mouth, a silent promise to be creative for as long as necessary. He kissed his way down her neck, then plucked at the buttons on her white blouse until it lay open, exposing her lacy bra. Sighing into her skin, he laved the flesh above her bra, until she couldn't bear the suspense anymore and unhooked the front closure.

One breast fell into his hand, the other into his mouth. He licked her nipple, then pulled it into his mouth, leaving her shuddering with pleasure. But they were both too frantic to linger. Luke pushed her skirt to her waist, then rolled down her panty hose and underwear to open her sex to him. When he knelt and flicked his tongue against her folds, Carol dug her fingers into his shoulders. She couldn't think…couldn't speak…could only feel the amazing wonderfulness of having his mouth against her most intimate places. It was a first for her and the sensations pummeling her were almost overwhelming, leaving her languid and elastic.

He suckled the tiny sensitive nub that housed her orgasms, immediately coaxing one out of
its hiding place to roam languorously as it made its way to the surface. Carol urged him on with moans and squeezes, riding on pure physical pleasure until the sensations in her womb began to swing with centrifugal force. The circles of liquid bliss grew tighter and heavier, swirling with growing intensity until her body bucked with a deep, intense climax.

Carol bit down on her own hand to muffle the sounds of her release, although the throbbing bass of the party music all but guaranteed that no one could hear them. Luke nuzzled her sex until she quieted, but she was eager to pleasure him, too. She pulled him to his feet, then loosened his belt and unzipped his pants to free his imposing erection.

When she clasped the rigid length of him, he gasped, his eyes hooded with desire. Carol slid from the table to kneel in front of him. She'd never done this before, but from what she'd read, it was hard to go wrong while performing oral sex on a man. She gingerly took his erection into her mouth, surprised by his silky hardness. He groaned with pleasure, his thighs tensing. She could sense his restraint
as he allowed her to set the pace, using her tongue and taking cues from his sounds of gratification. She loved pleasing him orally, experimenting, making him feel the way he'd made her feel.

And she reasoned she must be doing it right when he whispered that he was about to come. He withdrew from her mouth and pulled her to her feet, holding her body against his while he stroked his erection. He kissed her neck and shoulder, then tensed and shuddered. She felt his contractions, then the wetness of his release on her stomach. He held her as his breathing slowed, then sighed into her ear.

“Wow,” he murmured. “What just happened?”

Carol stiffened. Maybe it was the sound of his voice breaking the spell. Maybe it was the sensation of his seed cooling on her stomach. Maybe it was the realization that they were in a dusty storage room, with all their co workers mere steps away, probably wondering what they were doing. The weight of remorse staggered her. What had she done?

Luke pulled back, then removed a hand
kerchief from his back pocket to mop up her stomach. “Go to dinner with me tomorrow night,” he urged.

Her mind raced as she straightened her clothes. “Tomorrow…you mean Valentine's Day?” “Yes.”

She turned her back to retrieve her underwear and panty hose, stepping into them as quickly and modestly as she could manage in such a confining space. So Luke didn't mind dumping the “special lady” he already had plans with. So like a man. But she knew what it felt like to be on the other end of that equation…and since Luke had left a string of broken hearts in his wake, she'd be just another conquest. Good grief, for all she knew, this storage room might be his own private place to fool around.

Panic licked at her neck until she realized the situation played perfectly into her original plan to seduce him, then dump him. She turned back and forced a note of casual nonchalance into her voice. “I don't think so. Look, this was just a one-time thing to satisfy curiosity.
I'm not curious anymore.” She adopted a blasé expression.

Luke pursed his mouth. “Uh…okay.”

She slipped her feet into her pumps. “Why don't you go out first so it'll seem less suspicious if anyone is watching.”

“Okay.” He hesitated, then rechecked his clothing and made his way to the door.

She turned away and closed her eyes. That was close. Having sex with Luke Chancellor might not have been the smartest move, but thinking it meant something would be the biggest mistake. “Carol.”

She schooled her expression, then turned around. “Yes?”

“Whatever he did to you, I'm sorry.”

She swallowed. “Who are you talking about?”

Luke shrugged. “I don't know. Whoever it was who hurt you so badly.”

Her jaw loosened, but he didn't wait for a reply. He slipped out the door and it closed behind him.

She fisted her hands, shaken by his words…
and angered. If she wasn't interested in being swept into Luke's emotional riptide, then she must be damaged. His reaction only reinforced her decision not to have dinner with him, not to foster false hope that a sexual encounter, no matter how explosive, would lead to something more serious.

Carol patted her hair, then realized with some small measure of relief that her headache was gone. She lifted her hand to her forehead to find that the goose egg she'd been nursing was also gone. It was something to be grateful for on an otherwise lousy day.

From the floor, a glint of metal caught her eye—her silver-and-emerald earring. In all the commotion this morning, she'd neglected to take it with her. She knelt to retrieve it from under the shelf, but lost her balance and bumped the shelving unit accidentally. Above her, she heard a scraping noise, and when she looked up, something large was bearing down on her.

Despite the sense of déjà vu, Carol didn't have time to put up her hand. Pain exploded in her head, then everything went black again.

Someone was shaking Carol by the shoulder.

“Carol…Carol?”

The voice was familiar…but out of context. Carol opened her eyes to blink Gabrielle Pope's face into view, then winced at the pain that stabbed her temple.

“Oh, good—you're not dead,” Gabrielle said.

“What are you doing here?” Carol asked.

“Just popping in to give you a hand.”

“A hand with what?”

“Can you sit up?”

“I think so.” Carol pushed up to a sitting position, then lifted her hand to her head, where a goose egg had formed—again. “Ow.”

“That looks painful,” Gabrielle said. “Maybe I should call an ambulance.”

“No,” Carol said, gingerly pushing to her feet. “It's just a bump on the head. I'll be fine. I need to get back to work.”

“Not yet,” Gabrielle said. “First I have to show you something.”

“What?”

Gabrielle pointed to a boxy computer screen sitting on the floor nearby. “A memory of Valentine's Day Past.”

Confused, Carol watched as the monitor blinked on, then zoomed in on a woman sitting at a restaurant table alone, as if she were waiting for someone.

Carol gasped. “That's me.”

Gabrielle nodded.

It suddenly dawned on Carol what she was watching. “I don't want to see this,” she said, turning her head away.

“But you must,” Gabrielle said gently.

Carol reluctantly pivoted back to the monitor, dread billowing in her stomach. The woman sitting at the restaurant table looked younger…
hopeful…in love. Gabrielle leaned forward and turned a volume knob.

A handsome blond man walked up to the table and leaned down to place a kiss on the young woman's temple. “Hi, sweetheart.”

Carol's heart squeezed. James…it had been so long since she'd heard his voice, she'd almost forgotten what it sounded like. Music to her heart.

“Happy Valentine's Day,” he said, then slid a small gift box across the table.

Carol remembered how her pulse had skipped higher at the size of the box, thinking—hoping—it contained a ring. She had opened the box with shaking fingers, and although her heart had dropped in disappointment at the sight of silver-and-emerald earrings, she had pulled a bright smile out of thin air and gushed over the thoughtful present.

“Emeralds,” he said, “are the sign of a successful love.”

She put the earrings on and leaned forward to thank him with a kiss. After they ordered drinks, she slipped her gift for him out of her
purse. “Happy Valentine's Day,” she said, pushing it toward him.

Carol watched her younger self, her stomach taut with nerves.

James opened the box and seemed surprised. “A ring? I love it, darling.” He removed the chunky horseshoe ring with small diamonds from its case and slipped it on his finger.

Carol was pleased that it looked classy, yet masculine on his hand.

“Thank you,” he said, then leaned forward for another kiss.

She shifted nervously on her chair. “Actually, it's not just a ring.”

James's eyebrows shot up. “Oh?”

“Actually…I was hoping…that is, I was wondering…”

“Yes? What is it, dear?”

“James…will you marry me?”

Watching the scene unfold, Carol emitted a mournful sound. She knew too well what was coming next.

James dropped his gaze, then took his time lifting his glass for a drink. Finally, he used his napkin to wipe the perspiration from his
forehead. She noticed his pallor had gone gray.

“James?” Carol prompted. “Is something wrong?”

He reached across the table to clasp her hand. “No. I mean…yes. I've wanted to tell you something, but the timing never seemed right.”

Carol remembered that at this point, her first worry had been that James was seriously ill. How naive she'd been.

“Whatever it is,” she said, “tell me now.”

“This isn't easy to say, but…I've been spending time with another woman, and…she's going to have my baby.”

Carol watched her younger self, the myriad of emotions that played over her face—disbelief, shock, hurt, anger. She jerked her hand from his as if she'd been burned. “You're lying.”

James drained his drink, then set the glass on the table with a thud. “I'm sorry, but I want to do the right thing. She and I are getting married. See you around.” Then he got up and walked out of the frame.

Carol had always wondered what she must've looked like that night to other diners…sitting there dressed up, wearing the earrings James had just given her, her face a mask of incredulity. Now she knew. She looked as if she'd been punched in the stomach, or as if she expected James to come back and announce that he'd been playing a practical joke. In fact, she'd sat there and ordered and eaten a meal by herself, just in case James did return.

He hadn't, of course.

Carol's cheeks felt wet, and she realized she was crying. “Other than losing my parents, that was the worst night of my life.”

“I know,” Gabrielle said quietly. “And I'm sorry to make you relive it. But you need to see that you are not to blame for what James did. His irresponsible and hurtful behavior is his to own. You did nothing wrong.”

“I trusted him,” Carol said. “That was wrong.”

“Trusting James was misguided,” Gabrielle corrected, “but it wasn't wrong. It's never wrong to love. It's James's loss that he took
advantage of your love instead of returning it.”

But Carol's heart still squeezed at the injustice. James had led her on for years, gave her reason to believe they had a future together, all while having an affair and getting another woman pregnant. In hindsight, she wondered if he would've ever told her about the other woman if she hadn't proposed and forced the issue.

When the pain started to suffocate her, Carol turned away from the monitor. “I have to go.”

“Very well,” Gabrielle said. “But don't forget, it's never wrong to love.”

Carol walked to the door of the supply room and let herself out in the hall, shaking her head at what she'd just experienced.

Dreamed, more like it. Walking back to the elevator, she reached up to touch the tender skin on her forehead. Maybe she'd taken a harder hit than she realized.

That would explain her hallucination.

As she approached the elevator, she realized preparations were already underway for the afternoon party.

Carol squinted. But the party had already happened…hadn't it?

Red decorations of cupids and hearts abounded. Blowups of some of the company's Valentine's Day cards leaned against the wall, including the “take no prisoners” card she'd seen on her assistant's desk. Cupid looked even more menacing at life-size.

Thankfully, she didn't see Luke among the volunteers…. She wasn't ready to face him after their encounter during the party.

She stopped and looked back to the party preparations, again disoriented. The workers threw her a look of distaste before turning back to their tasks. Well, even if other events were confused in her head, one thing remained true—everyone hated her for voting against giving the employee bonuses.

On the elevator ride up, Carol did some mental calculations to try to clear her head. She counted backward from one hundred by multiples of nine…she recited the presidents of the United States.

Everything seemed to be in working order.

When the doors opened and she walked into
her department, Tracy looked up from her desk where she was playing with her new computer. In fact, everyone was still preoccupied with the new equipment she and Luke had scavenged from the storage room.

“I understand Luke Chancellor was up all night installing these machines for us,” Tracy said, her eyes dreamy. “When you see him, give him a big kiss for me, will you?”

Carol blinked. “Excuse me?”

“In the directors' meeting,” Tracy said, then glanced at the clock. “You're going to be late.”

Carol massaged her temples. “Um, Tracy…what day is it?”

Tracy narrowed her eyes. “Friday, February thirteenth. Are you okay, Ms. Snow?”

“Yes,” Carol lied. In truth, a low, throbbing headache had settled into her crown. She stopped by the ladies' room to arrange her hair over the reddened bump on her forehead, then proceeded to the room where the directors' meeting was held. Before entering, she took a deep breath, then pushed open the door.

Her fellow directors looked up and she could
tell not all of them were relieved to see her. Luke Chancellor sat at the head of the table. It was the first time she'd seen him clothed since she'd seen him naked. She hoped it wouldn't be awkward.

He smiled up at her. “We were just getting ready to send out a search party for you, Carol.”

She settled into an empty chair. “Sorry I'm late.”

“We heard a Good Samaritan delivered new computer equipment to your department this morning,” Janet, the art director, said with a smile.

All gazes slid toward Luke. He held up his hands. “It was Carol's idea—I just…facilitated.”

She set her jaw—how did he do that? Manage to sound humble and still take credit?

And why wasn't he acknowledging—in private glances, at least—that they'd recently shared some very good oral sex?

“We were about to take another vote on the issue of bonuses,” Luke said, all business. “I think it's pretty clear that anyone dissenting is
following your lead, Carol, so I guess we can cut to the chase by asking if you've changed your mind on paying out a one-time bonus?”

The weight of a roomful of stares shifted to her. Carol glanced from side to side to see if anyone else remembered having this exact meeting at…sometime.

Luke looked hopeful, and Carol knew he was thinking of her previous comment that she might reconsider her position. But that was before he'd turned all her employees against her. Before he'd given her a blinding orgasm in the storage room and made her feel again. This might be her one and only chance…again…to put Luke Chancellor in his place.

“No, I haven't changed my mind,” she said carefully, feeling strangely like a doppel-gänger.

Disappointment colored Luke's face. His mouth flattened, then he shrugged. “I guess that's that.”

Carol clapped her hands. “Good. If that's all, I need to get back to work. The party means I have only four hours to get done what I'd nor
mally do in eight.” Then she stopped. “There is a party today, right?”

“Right,” Luke said, his mouth tight. “And yes, that's all.”

Carol's gaze roved over him, recalling the size of his erection, and the sounds the man made when he climaxed.

Or had she dreamed the encounter as well?

“Something else on your mind?” Luke asked.

That little swirly trick you do with your tongue.
“Uh…no.” She pushed to her feet and left. On the way back to her office, Carol massaged her temples, trying to alleviate the headache that had yet to ease. When she reached her department, she walked the gauntlet of angry stares from her employees and closed her office door. There she downed some aspirin and waited for the feeling of vindication to descend. She'd proved to Luke that her opinion still meant something around here…that there was at least one woman he couldn't charm into submission.

She squinted. But if she'd given him a
blow job, didn't that mean she'd already submitted?

Regardless, sitting here in the wake of her power, the victory of winning the vote felt strangely hollow. She gave herself a mental shake, reasoning that she could hardly feel good about anything while nursing a headache. She would savor the success later, in private.

When she was alone. Completely, absolutely, utterly alone.

She stopped, certain she'd had that thought before—déjà vu?

Carol pushed a button on the intercom and told Tracy she wasn't to be disturbed, then spent the morning plowing through a mountain of paperwork that seemed amazingly simple, as if she'd done it before and already knew all the answers.

But since her headache wasn't letting up, she decided she'd skip the Valentine's Day party and just go home, maybe tuck in with a good book, something she could suggest as a selection for the Red Tote Book Club.

While she was thinking about it, she pulled
out her phone and sent Gabrielle an update via text message.

Seduction achieved. Details later.

A couple of minutes later, Gabrielle replied.

Surrender to love, Carol.

Carol frowned at the message. Love? Who said anything about love? And
surrender?
Never.

A knock sounded at her door, then it creaked open.

“Tracy, I asked not to be disturbed,” Carol said without looking up.

“Don't get mad at her,” Luke said.

Carol lifted her head to see the man of the hour standing in the threshold. He gestured behind him. “Tracy said you didn't want to be disturbed, but I told her I'd take full responsibility for defying your orders.”

He looked just as handsome in brown slacks and pale blue dress shirt, minus a tie, as he had…before. Carol's pulse quickened, but she reminded herself that he wasn't to be trusted. Along with her memory, apparently.

“What do you want, Chancellor?”

“I thought it would be nice if we walked into the party together, a show of solidarity.”

She stood and began packing her briefcase. “I'm not going to the party.”

He gave a little laugh. “Why not?”

“Because I'd rather go home, that's why.”

“Go home to what?” he asked. “A book?”

At his mocking tone, Carol bit down on the inside of her cheek. “What's it to you?” She looked up and her anger surged to the surface. “I mean, really, Luke, as if you care.”

He blinked and visibly pulled back. “That's the thing—I
do
care…Although I'm starting to wonder why.”