I hold Valrhona chocolate-cream-filled cake on a fork, and Amy leans forward in her tall stool to take it. She’s at the bar in my condo, and I’m feeding her French chocolate cake and trying to decide if it gets any better than this.
“You are an evil man, Marcus Merritt,” she laughs, covering her mouth as she groans. She’s gorgeous. “How could you keep this a secret?”
“Secret weapon,” I give her a wink.
She leans back and takes a sip of red wine. “It’s amazing.”
Our chat at dinner was completely out of the blue for me, but she tipped her hand on the daddy issues. I wanted this flighty bird to know she’s safe with me. It seemed to have worked—at least for now. I got her to come inside anyway. Of course, I promised cake.
The thought makes me laugh as I hold out another bite for her. Green-hazel eyes blink round, and she shakes her head. “You haven’t had any!”
“I bought this cakelette for you.” Circling the fork, I move it slowly closer to her perfect pink lips.
“There’s no way I’m eating that whole thing,” she shakes her head. “Box up the rest, and I’ll take it home to Sylvia. She’ll love it.”
Not yet. Putting the fork down, I walk around the bar and refresh my wine. “More?”
“Mm,” she shakes her head. “I’m good, but I was thinking about your story.”
Hopping off the stool, she walks around to where I’m standing. Shoes off, her head only reaches my shoulder.
“What about it?” I watch as her mind works behind those beautiful eyes.
“Well, obviously we can’t use it.”
“It’s not legally advisable.”
“Right,” she nods, flicking her gaze up to mine. “But it rounds out your image, your respect for injured parties... Maybe we could work it into something about how you protect clients’ interests, their case. Let me tweak it a bit. I’ll show you tomorrow.”
“It’s good.” I nod and set down my wine glass.
Then she laughs. “Just don’t take them to your cathedral office immediately after.”
Reaching for her waist, I slide my hands down and pull her to me. “I like my office. It reminds me of home.”
She doesn’t fight my hold, but her eyes are on her hands on my chest. I can’t tell what she’s thinking, and I don’t plan to mince words. “I want you to stay.”
Her voice is low, her eyes on her hands. “I already told you. We’re working together. We should keep it professional.”
I like how her position is softening on the matter. “You’ve done your job. Now let’s have fun.”
At that her eyes meet mine. They waver a bit, and my stomach tightens when I see her internal conflict. “I’m not finished. I still have pictures to take, your bios to write, this mission statement—”
Leaning down, I catch her soft lips with mine. It’s a light nip, a gentle pull, and her hand tightens on my shirt. She clutches the fabric, and I slide my palm up to her neck, holding her steady as I kiss her deeper, pushing her mouth open and finding her tongue.
A little noise comes from her throat, and it’s like fire on kindling. My entire body is burning with need, and I’m ready to c
arry her to the bedroom. Looking up, I start to move her in that direction when she wavers.
“Marcus, wait.” Her breathing is fast, and I know she’s losing this battle. She wants this as much as I do.
Still, I won’t force her. My hands drop from her hips, and a frown lines my forehead. “I don’t beg, Amy.” I don’t mean to growl, but it’s time to put it on the line. “I don’t chase. I don’t even really see the same women more than a few times. But I’m asking you to do this.”
Her eyes burn with lust, and her breasts rise with her fast breathing. Still she’s holding back. “I don’t do relationships. You should know that from the start.”
“I’m not asking you to do anything.”
Now her face lines, and she shakes her head, looking away. “What do you want from me?”