Scandalizing the CEO

It was only now that she’d fallen in love with him that she wanted the details for herself. Not for the magazine or the world, but for her. She wanted to know what it was like for him to grow up in the shadows.

She didn’t have to ask how it had affected him because she saw how guarded he was with her—with everyone. He worked all the time and was driven to prove to the world that he didn’t need anyone. She knew he’d deny it, but that was what Steven Devonshire was doing.

She wondered what he’d meant by the competition and wanting to beat his brothers. She knew that Steven had left his retreat with her because she’d made him uncomfortable. How could she make amends for that? And how could he? She’d reached out to him not to hurt but to help him.

She was still thinking about that when the phone rang. “This is Ainsley.”

“Hello. This is Henry Devonshire. I’m having a get-together at this weekend’s London Irish Rugby game and wanted to invite you. My half brothers will be there and my mum as well. You’d have a chance to see what my life is like away from the record label.”

“I’d like that, Henry. May I bring Bert Michaels along? He’s the writer doing the interview.”

“Yes. That’s fine. I’ll leave tickets at the Will Call window.”

“Thanks.”

She was still going to see Steven whether they were involved or not. And she didn’t know how she was going to handle that.

Being professional was one thing, but seeing the man she loved and having him ignore her…She needed to talk to him before the rugby match. She needed to figure out if she’d damaged irreparably what they had. There was only one way for her to do that. She had to call him or go to his office.

She sent him an e-mail to see if he was going to respond or ignore her.

Thank you for a lovely evening. Please join me for dinner tonight.

She didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later she had a response from him.

Are you asking as a magazine editor or my lover?

She hit Reply and knew if she had to choose between the articles she was publishing and Steven, she’d pick him.

Lover.

His response came back a minute later.

Then yes. I’m done at eight. I’ll pick you up.

She thought about it for a moment and realized that she wanted to do something nice for him. Something like what he’d done for her last night.

Meet me at my house. I’ll have dinner for us.

She left the office early and stopped at Tesco’s on her way home to pick up the ingredients for a light pasta sauce and garlic bread. She wasn’t much of a cook and if his aunt was a chef, he wasn’t going to be impressed by anything she made. But staying in seemed like a good idea tonight. She wanted to be alone with Steven.

She needed the chance to repair the damage she’d done when she’d let her desire to get ahead get in the way of her relationship with Steven. And she didn’t want anything to come before the man she loved.

Steven had to park down the block from Ainsley’s house when he got there. He had a bottle of wine in one hand and a copy of Steph Cordo’s new CD in the other. He knew he’d been a bit of a bear when she’d brought up Malcolm. But he couldn’t help it.

He didn’t talk about his family—ever. But he’d talked about his mum and Malcolm with Ainsley and that made him wonder if he should have turned down her dinner invite. But he couldn’t. He wanted to see her again.

It didn’t matter that she made it hard for him to focus on work. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame and no matter that he knew it would end the same way the moth’s life did, he was still plunging ahead.

He rapped on her door and waited in the damp April evening for her to answer. She opened the door a few minutes later. She wore a Betsey Johnson apron and had bare feet. She hadn’t changed out of the same jeans and T-shirt that she’d had on when they’d left his place in Surrey.

And she looked eminently kissable.

He took her in his arms as soon as he stepped over the threshold. Pulled her close and kissed her for all he was worth. He used his mouth and his lips to tell her that he was sorry for the way he’d overreacted.

When he set her on her feet, she stepped back away from him. She put her fingers on her lips and looked up at him. He saw there were tears in her eyes. “Don’t cry.”

“It’s just…I’m sorry I asked those questions. I was doing it because I care about you, not to get a scoop for our writers to use,” she said.

“It’s okay. You just found my one hot button.”

She tipped her head to the side. “Do you only have one?”