Every instinct he possessed warned him that an affair with Lauren would complicate his life. Already she had gotten under his skin. He should have stuck to his decision to avoid all further contact with her, the decision he'd made when he sent her away from Harbor Springs. He would have stuck to it if he hadn't seen her at the party Saturday night, looking so sexy and glamorous in that damned provocative dress.
She had wanted him that night even though she'd denied it. And she'd wanted him today in his office too. One of the first things he was going to teach that lovely, exasperating beauty was to accept her own sexuality and to admit her desires. Then he was going to bathe her senses in every exquisite sensation a man could give a woman in bed. He would teach her to please him too. He remembered her sweet, inexperienced attempts at doing so when he'd made love to her in Harbor Springs, and a stirring hardness instantly tightened his loins. The effect she had on him was incredible, he thought grimly as he shifted position.
What if she couldn't cope emotionally with an affair? What if she fell apart when it was over? He didn't want to hurt her.
Nick reached down and opened his briefcase, extracting the contracts for the land acquisition he was about to negotiate with the men who were flying in to meet with him. It was too late to worry about the possible consequences; he wanted her too badly—and she wanted him.
13
« ^ »
At one o'clock the next afternoon, Lauren went up to the eightieth floor and was informed by Mary that Mr. Sinclair wanted to see her immediately. Fighting down her nervous tension, Lauren smoothed her hair, which was held in a loose knot at her nape, and walked into his office. "You wanted to see me?" she said politely.
Nick tossed the documents he was reading down on his desk, leaned back in his chair and lazily surveyed her. "You were wearing your hair up like that the day we left for Harbor Springs," he said, his deep voice pitched seductively low. "I like it."
"In that case," Lauren said lightly, "I'll start wearing it down."
He grinned. "So that's the way we're going to play it, is it?"
"Play what?"
"This little game we started yesterday."
"I am not playing your game," she said with quiet firmness. "I do not want the prize." But she did. She wanted him forever, for herself. And she despised herself for that same stupid weakness.
Nick observed her troubled expression with a feeling of satisfaction and nodded toward the chair in front of his desk. "Sit down. I was just about to review a file I had sent up."
Relieved that he was ready to get to work, Lauren sat down, but her breath caught in her chest when he picked up the file and opened it. CONFIDENTIAL—PERSONNEL FILE was stamped across the front, and beneath it was a typed label that read, LAUREN E. DANNER/EMPLOYEE NO. 98753.
A flush tinted her delicately molded cheekbones as she remembered deliberately failing her tests and listing president as her first preference for a job. Nick would see that and—
"Hmmm," he said, "Lauren Elizabeth Danner. Elizabeth is a beautiful name and so is Lauren. They suit you."
Unable to endure the sweet torment of having him flirt with her, Lauren said repressively, "I was named after two maiden aunts. One of them had a squint and the other had warts."
Nick ignored that and continued aloud. "Color of eyes, blue." He regarded her over the top of the file, his gray eyes intimate and teasing. "They are definitely blue. A man could lose himself in those eyes of yours—they're gorgeous. "
"My right eye used to wobble unless I wore my glasses," Lauren informed him blithely. "They had to operate on it."
"A little girl with wobbly blue eyes and glasses on her nose," he reflected with a slow grin. "I'll bet you were cute."
"I looked studious, not cute."
Nick's lips twitched as if he knew exactly what she was trying to do. He turned over the application, and Lauren watched him scanning it, his gaze nearing the bottom where she had listed her job preferences. She knew the exact instant he spotted what she had written. "What the… !" he said, astonished, and then he burst out laughing. "Weatherby and I are going to have to be careful. Which of our jobs do you want the most?"
"Neither," Lauren said shortly. "I did that because on my way to the interview at Sinco, I decided I didn't want to work there after all."
"So you purposely flunked your tests, is that it?"
"That's it."
"Lauren…" he began in a soft seductive voice that instantly put her on her guard.
"I've had the dubious pleasure of reading through your file," Lauren cut in coolly. "Your public-relations file," she clarified, at his stunned look. "I know all about Bebe Leonardos and the French movie star. I even saw the picture of you that was taken with Ericka Moran the day after you sent me away because a 'business acquaintance' was coming to see you."
"And," he concluded evenly, "you were hurt."
"I was disgusted," Lauren shot back, refusing to admit to any of the anguish she'd felt. She caught hold of her temper and said with a measure of her former calm, "Now can we please get down to work?"
A moment later Nick was called into a meeting that lasted the rest of the afternoon, so Lauren was left in peace. A peace that was disturbed by Mary Callahan's frequent thoughtful glances.
At ten o'clock the next morning, Jim, looking harried, appeared at Lauren's desk. "Nick just called. He wants you up there right now, and he's going to need you for the rest of the day." Sighing, he gestured toward the report she'd been preparing for him. "Go ahead. I'll finish that."
Mary was gone when Lauren arrived, but Nick was seated at his desk, his su
it coat and tie removed, his dark head bent as he concentrated on the notes he was writing. His shirtsleeves were rolled up on his tanned forearms and his collar was unbuttoned. Lauren's gaze drifted to the tanned column of his throat. Not so long ago, she remembered, she had pressed her lips to the hollow there where his pulse beat…
She looked at his beautifully styled dark hair and the ruggedly chiseled angles of his jaw and cheek. He was the handsomest, most compelling man she had ever seen, she thought with a pang of longing. But when she spoke, her voice was calmly detached. "Jim said you needed me up here right away. What do you want me to do for you?"
Nick turned and looked at her, a smile sweeping across his features. "Now there's a question," he teased.
She pointedly ignored his sexual innuendo. "I understand that you have an urgent task for me."
"I do."
"What is it?"
"I want you to go to the coffee shop and get me something to eat."
"That—" Lauren choked. "That's your idea of urgent?"
"Very urgent," Nick replied imperturbably. "I happen to be starved."
Lauren clenched her hands into fists. "To you I may merely be some frivolous, amusing sexual object, but downstairs I have an important job to do, and Jim needs me."
"I need you, honey. I've been here since—"
"Don't you dare call me honey!" she burst out, reeling with unwanted joy at the casual endearment.
"Why not?" he cajoled, a smile lighting his face. "You're sweet."
"You won't think so if you call me honey again," Lauren promised.
His brows drew together at her tone, and Lauren had to remind herself that he was still her boss. "Oh all right!" she capitulated ungraciously. "What do you eat for breakfast?"
"Irritating secretaries," he mocked.
Lauren stalked back to her temporary office and discovered that Mary had returned. "You won't need money, Lauren," the woman said. "We have an account set up at the coffee shop."
Two things hit Lauren at once: the first was that Mary had just called her Lauren instead of her usual frosty Miss Danner. And the second was that she was smiling—and what a smile Mary Callahan had! It seemed to glow from inside her, lighting her face and softening her austere features in a way that made her seem absolutely lovely.