The CEO's Scandalous Affair / Seduced by the Wealthy Playboy: The CEO's Scandalous Affair

Fingering the plunging neckline, she remembered how beautiful she’d felt the last time she’d worn it—right before her boyfriend had betrayed her, and she’d been run out of Indiana by bad press and false accusations.

She buried the thought. Tonight, she’d just revel in the dress, in the thigh-revealing cut and the backless dip that nearly touched her tailbone and the flared skirt that shimmered like liquid fire when she walked.

Anna reached for the hanger, a little sad she’d cover the revealing bodice and back with a simple black pashmina wrap and take small steps so as not to show too much leg. Because, all rationalization aside, she didn’t need to attract any attention.

And she had to remember that powerful, sexy, controlling men with smoldering smiles and mouthwatering bodies were dangerous. Especially, oh, God, especially if one of the things they controlled was your paycheck.

She slipped on the dress, fastened the halter top and added some simple silver earrings and strappy black sandals. She dropped a tube of lipstick and a compact into her evening bag. Now where had she put the wrap?

“Anna?” From the sound of Parker’s voice, he was outside her door. “The limo’s here.”

“I’ll be right out,” she promised, flipping through the closet for the pashmina. Then two drawers. Then her empty suitcase.

Was it possible the woman who never forgot anything had left the cover-up at home? She closed her eyes and pictured it hanging over the chair in her bedroom where she’d placed it with a mental note to pack it last.

“Damn.” She’d forgotten to pack it at all.

“Anna? Do you need help with a zipper or something?”

Or something. She fingered the plunging neckline and swiped her hand over the curve of her hip. Evidently she wasn’t going to be able to hide a thing from anyone tonight.

She put her hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath. “I seem to have forgotten my wrap,” she said. “I hope that’s not a problem.”

When she opened the door, she inhaled sharply at the sight of Parker in a tuxedo. Really, there ought to be a law against looking like that.

He merely stepped back, and made absolutely no effort to hide the slow sweep of his gaze over her face and body. “Uh, no.” His voice was tight, the way it had been in the bathroom the other morning, and his eyes turned just as dark and hungry. “That is definitely not a problem.”

But the way he reached for her hand, and the way that designer tux rested on his broad shoulders, and the way he smelled like cinnamon and spice…oh, that was a problem.

He leaned a little too close and took a deep breath, a soft moan in his chest. “You certainly are good at hiding… things.”

She managed a tight smile. “Not really.”

Oh, yes. The problems were just starting to mount.

Three

“I thought I should wear a wrap.”

Parker gave in to the urge to check her out top to bottom one more time. Anna was stunning. Extraordinary. Perfect.

“Why would you cover that up?” he asked.

“I just… I’m cold.” She rubbed her bare arms self-consciously, the gesture drawing her breasts together in the most provocative way.

He’d reached to touch her shoulder, but his hand continued over her back, drawing her closer, warming her. “You don’t need a wrap. You’ve got a date.”

Goose bumps rose on her skin, and beneath the thin red material that hugged her breasts, her nipples hardened, sending a few gallons of his blood below the belt.

What was that stupid decision he’d made on the plane? Something about kindred spirits and messing things up with sex and…

Never mind. Some decisions just screamed to be second-guessed.

“You look incredible,” he said, letting genuine admiration warm his voice as he leaned closer and took a whiff of her musky perfume. “And you smell like heaven.”

“Thanks,” she said softly, stepping away from him in one easy move. “You clean up nice, too, Mr.—”

He pointed a playful finger at her. “Don’t you dare.”

“Parker.” She smiled and moved another step away. “I’m sorry, it’s a hard habit to break.”

“I’ll help you.” Reaching for her hand, he lifted her knuckles to his mouth and placed a soft kiss on her silky skin. “Every time you use the word mister, I’m going to kiss you.”

Her eyelashes shuttered and the goose bumps returned, but she laughed softly. “Kind of like Pavlov’s dog?”

“Nothing like Pavlov’s dog.” He guided her toward the door. “But consider yourself warned. And every time you force me to kiss you, it’s going to get…” He tempered his smoky look with a half smile. “More serious.”

Maybe that would nudge her toward that “cue” he’d been waiting for.

“Then I’ll have to be very careful of what I say,” she promised, her pretty mouth turned up in a teasing smile.

As they walked toward the elevator, he drank in her staggering combination of sexuality and elegance. The gown narrowed at her waist, then flared and then…

Oh, man. The thigh-high slit made his mouth go bone dry. How was a guy supposed to keep his hands out of that treasure trove?

He hit the elevator call button and leaned closer to her. “I have to tell you,” he said, glancing down at the open pleat. “You have great legs, Anna.”

Color darkened her cheeks. “Thank you, Mist—”

Parker grinned as he dipped down and kissed her cheek. “What were you going to say?”

She chuckled softly. “Thank you, Parker.”

“My pleasure,” he said, his voice rich with double meaning. Sliding his arm around her waist, he placed his mouth close to her ear as the elevator bell dinged and the doors opened. “Next time it’ll be on the lips.”

“Well, if it isn’t the Grand Garrison himself.”

Parker froze at the ice in the familiar voice, the frisson of sexual play extinguished by the sound of an archenemy. He led Anna into the car, sparing Jordan Jefferies no more than a passing glance as he nodded hello. Just long enough to see the tall, muscular man looked tan and fit, and wore a tuxedo.

Parker swore mentally. Jefferies was headed to the same gala, no doubt.

“I’m afraid your escort is too rude to introduce us,” Jordan said to Anna. “I’m Jordan Jefferies.”

She gave the man a blank look as if she’d never even heard of him before. But how could she not? She must have heard the name around the office. She had to know the Jefferies brothers, both this one and the adopted Emilio, were the bane of Parker’s existence. What the hell was he doing here, anyway? He hadn’t been on the guest list Parker had requested to see before he’d left.

“Anna Cross,” she said politely, shaking his hand.

Jefferies turned her fingers, gave a little fake Euro-bow and kissed her knuckles. Parker seethed silently.