In Your Eyes (Man of the Month 6)

"Absolutely. We'll add it to the mix."

The rush of relief turned to icy slush. "The mix?"

He nodded. "You're clearly reluctant to accept my original proposal. Adding these few promotional benefits should make it worth your while. After all, turning the contest into a charitable fundraiser--even for one night--that's worth some media coverage for The Fix, I'm sure."

"Well, yes, but this conversation started because--"

She cut herself off. She couldn't actually remember how it had started, other than the fact that his initial compromise was to trade her for his participation in the contest. And that just wasn't happening.

"Look at me, Megan." His voice, commanding yet melodic, allowed for no disobedience, and the truth was that she was too tired and frustrated to fight him on the point anyway.

She looked up, and saw that the embers she'd seen in his eyes had flared into a burning desire so intense it sent a coil of heat curling all the way down to her core.

"The bottom line is that I want you, Megan. I wanted you in LA, and now here you are, all flustered and desperate. You've already knocked me back down to the man I was back then. A man used to getting whatever and whoever he wanted, including any woman who intrigued me, right there in my bed."

He took a step toward her, and her breath quickened. "And do you know why, Megan? It wasn't because of my bank account, though I'll admit that didn't hurt. No, it was because I have a certain skill set. I know where pleasure hides, and I know how to tease it out. I know how to tame desire and put a leash on passion. I have secrets, Megan. Secrets I can share with a woman--secrets that she'll beg for. Secrets that lead to treasures you can't even imagine."

Beads of sweat rose at the back of her neck. Sweat that had absolutely nothing to do with the sweltering temperature outside.

He bent forward, then pressed his lips close to her ear. So close the scent of him caressed her, a woodsy, male smell that would have seemed counter to the man in the business suit if she hadn't just witnessed the wildness inside. "Agree, Megan. You know you want to."

With supreme effort, she forced herself to shake her head. "No. What you're suggesting. It's ... it's inappropriate."

He took a step back, stared at her for one long beat, then laughed.

"Yes, I suppose it is. And you can say no if you really want to. But I'm not the one who screwed up here, Megan." He took a step back, his hands threaded behind his neck as he looked at her. "We're done talking. It's time for you to make your choice."

She drew in a breath, her pulse pounding with anticipation. As if her body knew what the answer would be even before her brain got with the program. "Just one night, right? That's all?"

He nodded.

"And nothing I don't consent to?"

A single brow rose. "Well, dinner and a movie and a chaste kiss won't cut it." He let his gaze rake over her, from her head all the way to her toes, leaving her body tingling in the wake of his inspection.

"But don't worry," he said, when his eyes once again met hers. "I don't do pain. Not unless you specifically ask for it," he added with a tiny smile.

She swallowed, wondering what the hell she was getting herself into, and more turned on that she cared to admit. Even to herself.

"No," he continued, bending over and putting his hands on the arms of her chair, essentially caging her in with his body. "I'm only interested in pleasing you, Megan. In making your heart pound and your skin fire. In tasting your lips, your breasts, every delicious part of you. Pleasure, remember? It's mine to give, and yours to enjoy. Come on, Megan. All you have to do is say yes."

She forced herself not to squirm in the chair, but she knew damn well that her panties were soaked. More than that, she was certain he knew it, too.

With a supreme force of will, she managed to not only look at him, but to conjure words. "If you want all that," she asked, "then why are you making it into a punishment."

He didn't answer. He only smiled.

And when the silence had lingered so long that she couldn't stand it, she waved the white flag and whispered, "yes."

He nodded, just the tiniest movement of his head. "Wednesday," he said. "We'll start our date after the contest is over. And take Thursday off from work. We don't want to rush things, after all."

Her eyes went wide, and he chuckled. "Thanks for coming in today, Ms. Clark. It's been a pleasure doing business with you."

* * *

He was an asshole. A first-rate, A-number-one, certifiable asshole.

But at least he knew it, so maybe that went part of the way toward redeeming him.