Scandalizing the CEO (7 page)

“That’s all for now, Cathy,” Ainsley said to her assistant, handing her the file she’d made notes in.

She walked around her office and sat behind her desk. Sinking down in the big leather chair, she took a moment to make sure he realized that she was in a position of power. That was the only way she dealt with men, she thought. That was why Steven was throwing her. He didn’t see just the woman and the job—he saw the woman behind it.

“What can I do for you?” she asked.

“My family is highly private and I agree with Steven that these interviews will be great for our new careers running the Everest Group. However, I have concerns about the questions that you may ask.”

She understood that. Geoff was a double-whammy publicity draw. He was a minor member of the current royal family and he was a bastard son of one of the most controversial men in the UK.

“We can draft a list of topics that are off-limits and the writer will not ask about them. If he does, then you can simply decline to answer,” she said.

“That’s all well and good. But I’m also going to need to approve the final draft of the article.”

“I’m not in the habit of doing that, Geoff. Our articles are about the people behind their celebrity.”

“I realize that, but this is a deal-breaker for me. I’ll give you enough personal information to make the article interesting.”

Ainsley wasn’t sure he would. But from her dealings with Steven she recognized that stubborn Devonshire will when she came up against it. “You drive a hard bargain.”

He smiled at her and when he did he was a breathtakingly handsome man. “So I’ve been told. But you must understand, my mother is adamant that she will not talk about Malcolm or the circumstances of my birth.”

She’d been afraid of that. She had found no recent mention of Princess Louisa in any of the Internet databases she’d searched. The woman was a recluse and had been since the birth of Geoff. Before that she’d been a party girl and the toast of London. “I’d really like to have her in the article. We will do everything to accommodate her and keep her out of the spotlight if that’s your desire.”

“Yes, it is. But more than that she doesn’t want to be profiled in an article with the other mistresses of Malcolm. She had enough of that when I was born. She might agree to a sidebar featuring her. I realize your magazine will probably put the articles in the same issue, but she won’t do a photo shoot with the other women.”

Ainsley hadn’t realized how invasive her idea for the article was to those three women. How had three smart, sexy women all fallen for a man who had kept them all on a string? Her readers would eat up the answer to that question. But how would Geoff, Henry and Steven deal with seeing their mothers back in the spotlight again? That was something she’d have to figure out.

“We will be careful to keep the article within the parameters you mentioned,” Ainsley said. She wasn’t going to agree to not talking about the past—that made the story juicy.

“That’s all I can ask for. The same circumstances apply to her interview—she’ll have to approve the questions and such if she grants it. I will submit topics that are off-limits and I will approve the final draft.”

Since she had no choice, Ainsley agreed. A few minutes later Geoff left. Cathy was already gone when she changed clothes in her executive bathroom and went downstairs to meet Steven.

Would reading the interview with Steven’s mother give her any insight into his character and personality? She wondered if a part of her hadn’t come up with this idea because she wanted to know more about the man who’d affected her so deeply. The man who’d changed her. She wanted to know what had shaped him, and the best way to do that would be to talk to his mother.

Though it had only been five days since she’d last seen
him, it seemed much longer when she stepped off the elevator and saw him waiting in the lobby. He put his hand on her shoulder and she looked up at him. Saw in his eyes a hint that maybe he’d missed her, too.

A
insley looked as ravishing as he remembered. It ticked him off a little that the attraction he’d felt for her hadn’t waned.

While he’d been away from her, he’d speculated that the attraction was driven by lust and had been intensified by his own lack of a current lover. But the moment she’d stepped out of her building he’d known that that was a lie.

“Good evening,” he said.

“Hello. How have you been?” she asked. The words were banal, and he who had no patience for small talk wanted it to continue so he could keep listening to her voice.

“Good. I have a bit of a surprise for you,” he said. He’d debated taking her to St. Peter’s and the upper galleries. It was a beautiful and quiet destination. And it was someplace different.

There was majesty to the cathedral that was unrivaled by anything else in the world, in his opinion. Though it was late, he’d made special arrangements for them to tour the gallery by themselves.

She arched her eyebrow at him and then said, “I love surprises.”

“No, you don’t,” he said. “I’ve been around you long enough to know that you like to know every detail and you like to be in charge.”

“Touché! I think the same could be said of you.”

“I’ve heard it many times. But I think you’ll like this surprise.”

She didn’t say anything else. He held her hand, sliding their fingers together until their palms met. Then he led her out the door of her building and down the street toward St. Peter’s. She wore a pair of two-inch, round-toed, patent leather shoes. So she reached his shoulder as they walked. Her thick black hair had been left down and brushed her shoulder with each step she took.

The formfitting black blouse with red decorative buttons accentuated the curves of her breasts. She had the blouse tucked into a long red skirt that ended at her calves. The skirt had a slit on the side that gave him a glimpse of her left leg with each step she took.

He wanted to draw her into a dark alley and have his way with her. Needed to taste those full lips under his. Needed to feel her curvy body pulled flush against his hard angles. Needed…her.

And he needed no one.

“About the interviews,” he said, thinking it was time to get all that out of the way.

“Yes, about the interviews. Why didn’t you tell me that Geoff was reluctant to be interviewed?”

“I didn’t know myself until I spoke to him. But we discussed it and he’ll do it.”

“I know. He was in my office today. His mother might not be a part of it, which is disappointing.”

“I’m sure you’ll still have a fabulous story without her. Princess Louisa just doesn’t like to speak in public.” Ainsley nodded. Steven had never met any of the mothers of the other Devonshire bastards and he’d been curious about that when he’d been younger. But now he knew who he was and what he was trying to accomplish. The past could stay in the past as far as he was concerned.

Ainsley would play a key role in spreading the word to many people that the Everest Group was back. That Everest was the exciting company it used to be and that Everest was about to change the way the world looked at retail marketing.

He wasn’t the least bit bothered by the fact that he wanted her and that their business arrangement might be affected by his desires. As they entered St. Peter’s and walked up the steps, he was aware that he’d do anything to keep Ainsley by his side. And he wondered just for a moment if he’d suggested the interviews, a gross invasion of his privacy, just to stay by her side.

“St. Peter’s?”

“Yes. I have arranged a private tour of the upper galleries.”

“Really? I’ve been dying to see them, but haven’t had a chance. Thank you, Steven.”

She hugged him and started to pull away quickly, but he brought his hands to her waist and held her there. This was what he’d been waiting for. This was what he wanted. He needed this woman in his arms.

He thought he’d wanted to unravel her mysteries but now
he knew he just wanted her. He didn’t care if he unlocked the secrets she kept unless they were secrets about what she hoped he’d do to her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and tipped her head back to look up at him. Their gazes met and he couldn’t help but feel something pass between them. Something hard to define.

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” she asked.

He didn’t answer her, just brought his head down and took her lower lip between his teeth.

Her hands tightened on his shoulders as she tried to pull herself closer to him. This was why he’d waited to kiss her. They were like flint and steel when they touched, and the sparks of the flames they generated consumed both of them.

If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up taking Ainsley for the first time in some very public place. And he’d never been much for exhibitionism. She went to his head faster than his first sip of whiskey had and the results were unpredictable.

Tugging her off balance, he pulled her close and felt her settle against him—first her breasts to his chest, then her belly against his stomach. Then she canted her hips toward him so her feminine mound rested against his erection.

He cupped her bottom and held her there while he continued to thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. The sun set around the city and a cold, damp chill filled the air, but he wasn’t aware of anything but the woman in his arms.

Ainsley thought of nothing but that kiss for the rest of the evening. As they walked past the crypts of monarchs and poets and through the whispering gallery, all she could
think of was Steven and how much she wanted to be alone with him. He had dialed back his attraction and seemed absorbed in what the guide was saying. She tried to listen, but she couldn’t help but remember the way his arms had felt against her.

The feeling of the firm grip of his hands on her waist lingered. She could taste him each time she licked her lips.

“Ainsley?”

“Hmm?”

“I was telling our guide how much we enjoyed our tour.”

She’d been standing there staring at Steven with a dazed expression. “Yes, we did. Thank you so much.”

Steven tipped the man and they left. It was cold outside now that night had fallen and she felt the chill settle over her. She’d left her raincoat at the office. “I forgot my coat.”

“I noticed. I thought you were a hardy American.”

“I am.”

She didn’t want him to know that he’d distracted her. While getting all the Devonshire heirs and their mothers to agree to be interviewed was a coup, she normally wouldn’t have been involved in the details of a story like this. She would have delegated it. But with Maurice’s interest in the story, she was reluctant to let any detail out of her hands. She wanted to be the one to make all the arrangements particularly so she would have an excuse to see Steven.

He shrugged out of his suit jacket and handed it to her. She reached for it, but he drew it out of her grasp.

“Let me help you,” he said.

She did, turning to face away from him as he held his jacket up. She slipped her arms inside and was immediately
surrounded by his body heat and the scent of aftershave. It was a warm and welcoming feeling, and she was unnerved because as she turned back to Steven, he seemed to know how she felt.

He took her hand in his and continued leading them back toward her office building. His car was still parked on the street and he opened the door for her to get in. “Ready for dinner?”

“Yes,” she said. The feelings she had for him were starting to overwhelm her. She wanted to be alone with him. To take off his clothes and see his naked body. But she was also very afraid of that moment. Afraid he’d see past the shields she’d put in place to make the world think she was different from who she really was. Afraid that he would see her naked and turn away from her.

Then she worried that she was worrying for nothing. That he might not even want to make love to her. Her fingers were tightly knotted together, something she realized only as Steven put his hand over hers.

“Relax,” he said. “What are you thinking about?”

She couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t tell this man who exuded sexuality that she was afraid of her own. But then she looked into his dark eyes and remembered the way he’d looked as he’d kissed her that very first time.

She could trust Steven. “I’m not sure I’m like the women you’re used to.”

“In what way?”

“I haven’t had many lovers,” she said.

“And that bothers you?”

She shrugged. “Not really. But I think it would be nice to have more experience, especially since you seem to.”

He smiled at her, reaching over to stroke her face. “Don’t
worry about any of that. You and I are in sync when it comes to physical desire.”

“Are you sure? I’m not what you think I am,” she said.

He arched one eyebrow at her. “Unless you’re secretly a man, I think you are exactly what I believe you to be.”

She gave a nervous laugh. “No, I’m not a man.”

“Then we have no problem, do we?”

She had wanted to be smooth and confident, but instead she was showing him exactly how vulnerable she was. A part of her knew that letting him see the weakness in her gave him an advantage. She’d heard that the power in a relationship went to the person who wanted the other one less. And she knew that if that were true, she was the one with less power.

She wanted Steven in a way that was overwhelming. It made her do things she’d never done before. She was on a date on a worknight, but then the last time they’d gone out it had been a worknight, too. She always got a good night’s sleep so she was sharp at work the next day. She still had e-mails to answer tonight and photos to approve for tomorrow.

But as she sat across from him in a very posh restaurant run by a celebrity chef, she didn’t care. She just sat and talked about books and movies, surprised to find that Steven and she had a lot in common.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked toward the end of the meal when he was staring at her mouth.

“I’m wondering how your mouth will feel against my chest,” he said. “Will you kiss me there?”

“Yes,” she said. The passion and the tension underlying that question brought back all her fears. A surge of electricity cascaded through her. She leaned closer to him
at the table. She wanted this man and nothing, not even her own fears, was going to stop her from having him.

She thought he’d ask for the check so they could leave, but instead he took her hand in his under the table and placed it on his thigh. She felt the muscled hardness of his legs and let her fingers caress him.

Steven took a sip of his espresso and kept his hands off Ainsley. It was a struggle because she kept moving her fingers up and down his thigh. He’d taken a gamble by putting her hand there. But her earlier fears had told him that she wasn’t sure of her appeal.

And he wondered how a woman as sexy and smart as Ainsley could doubt herself. She had declined dessert, but he’d never known a woman not to want sweets, so he had ordered a seven-layer chocolate cake for them both and offered her a bite.

She shook her head, but he kept the fork extended. “Please take it away, Steven.”

He took the bite for himself. “Why?”

Pulling her hand from his leg, she wrapped it around her own waist. “I…I guess this is a good time to tell you. I used to be fat.”

Women were always obsessing over five or ten pounds. But Ainsley was perfect. Beautiful, curvy, everything a woman should be.

“I find that very hard to believe.”

“Well, it’s the truth. Men rarely noticed me when I was in a room.”

Again he didn’t believe her. “Maybe that was your perception, but I promise you they did.”

“No, they didn’t.”

“Well, then they were fools because I would never have forgotten you,” he said.

“But you did,” she said. “I interviewed you five years ago. And you don’t even remember me.”

Steven tried to recall…the girl with the pretty violet eyes? She had been big, he remembered, but more than that she’d been almost invisible when she hadn’t been interviewing him. “I remember now. Weren’t you A.J. then? You were so shy when the interview was over. Almost as if you wanted to fade into the background.”

She flushed. “I did. But you didn’t remember me, did you?”

“Not because of the size of your body,” he said. “Because you made yourself unremarkable. You’ve changed. I don’t think it’s just weight loss. I think it has to do with your personality.”

She took a sip of her espresso and then joined her hands together on the table. “A man
would
see it that way.”

“Anyone would,” he argued. “You used to make yourself invisible. Maybe you felt more comfortable that way. But the woman you are right now is who I’m attracted to, and it wouldn’t matter what size she was.”

He saw her blink and turn away. “Now I want you to try a bite of this dessert. It’s delicious.”

“I can’t, Steven. One bite will turn into the entire cake. You have no idea what a struggle it is for me to keep from overeating.”

She was too disciplined now to overeat. He could tell by the way she held herself that she wouldn’t let her control slip. She just wasn’t that sure of herself. He vowed that she would be. That he would show her that she was so much more than unfulfilled wanting.

“Trust me.”

She looked over at him and he felt like this had become about something more than dessert. The moment sharpened until he knew this would change the course of their relationship. Either she would trust him and it would move forward or she wouldn’t and he’d sleep with her and they’d never see each other again.

He wasn’t sure which scenario he preferred. Because if she started to trust him, that meant he had the burden of continuing to be worthy of her trust—something he wasn’t sure he could do. He’d been dead inside for so long. He’d settled for one-night stands and short-term affairs.

But as the fork was suspended between them and he watched Ainsley move slowly toward it, he knew that things were changing. Not just for her, but for him as well.

She was the first woman he’d wanted physically who had tempted him emotionally. And that scared him. He’d always been alone and he didn’t want to depend on a woman whose career was so important.