From Boss to Bridegroom

Then, without skipping a beat, he said, “I just think people need to prioritize. If you have kids, you need to accommodate them, arrange your life around them and avoid demanding jobs. If you have a demanding job—”

“Or boss.”

“Or boss. You shouldn’t have kids because they get shortchanged.”

“Is everything so black and white for you?”

“Not everything. But this is.”

“So no kids for your secretary and no kids for you.”

“Exactly.”

“Ever?” Lucy asked as Rand tossed two twenty-dollar bills onto the table without having seen the check.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure I could ever do what it takes to be a father. Maybe someday. But a far-off someday. Like when I retire.”

“Retire? You want to have kids after you retire?” Lucy said, laughing at the notion as they both put on their coats.

“I plan to retire fairly young.”

“Not young enough to wait until then to have kids, I’ll bet.”

“What makes you think so?”

“You’re crazed. You won’t be able to even slow down anytime soon, let alone retire.”

“Then I guess it’s no kids for me.”

“Seems like a shame,” Lucy observed as she got into the back seat of the Town Car when it pulled up outside the diner.

“Why is that?”

“From the way you talk I can tell family is important to you.” That made him all the more appealing, something Lucy didn’t want to acknowledge to herself.

“Family is important to me. That’s the point. If you have a family, they have to be the most important thing in your life.”

“And instead your job fills the bill?”

“Completely.”

“Your job can’t curl up on your lap to read Dr. Seuss or melt your heart with a smile or tie your shoes when you’re too old to do it yourself.”

“I like my job,” he defended.

“Enough to exclude everything else?”

He smiled the most wicked smile she’d ever seen. “It excludes kids. No one said it excluded everything else,” he said with a tone full of innuendo.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “I give up.” Although in truth it wasn’t their arguing she was so willing to throw in the towel on. It was that the innuendo was too scintillating to be safe for her any longer. Especially when that wicked grin had an incredibly heady effect on her.

“And here you were holding your own so well,” he said as if he were disappointed that she wasn’t continuing to challenge him.

Somehow when Lucy had gotten into the car she hadn’t slid completely to the opposite end of the seat. And somehow when Rand had followed her in, he’d slid a little more toward the center than he’d needed to. Lucy hadn’t noticed it before, but now she realized that they were only separated by about six inches. Plus Rand was turned at a slight angle and had his arm stretched across the seat back so near to her she became aware of his coat sleeve brushing her nape.

It all worked together to allow him to look directly at her. To study her with a warmth in his eyes that made her want to take off her coat.

Then he said, “Tell your aunt thanks for me.”

“For what? Providing an adequate sparring partner?”

He laughed lightly. “Well, for that—I always enjoy a good debate. But also for sending me the best secretary I’ve had since she left.”

It flashed through Lucy’s mind to say he hadn’t had her, but she caught herself before she uttered the words.

What was she doing? she asked herself. Was she really on the verge of flirting with him? Was one long workday and a Blue Plate Special all it took to drop her guard?

But it wasn’t easy keeping her guard up when the man only inches from her was so astonishingly handsome, so charming, so stimulating, so sexy.

And it didn’t help matters that there he was, searching her face as if he’d just made some discovery in her that he could hardly believe himself, his expression full of admiration, of appreciation for more than a job well-done. For something that appeared far more personal. Far more flattering.

Then his eyes honed in on hers, delving into them, making her feel even hotter still and suddenly causing her to think about kissing. About him kissing her. About her kissing him back…

It would be a mistake, she told herself sternly. A huge mistake.

Yet her mouth went dry with the very notion. Her mind raced with curiosity about how those wonderful male lips would feel pressed to hers. Would they be parted? Would his tongue tease her lips into parting, too? What would he taste like? Would his mouth, his tongue, be as agile as his mind? As forceful as his personality? As powerful as his sex appeal?

Where would he put his hands? Those big, adept, blunt-fingered hands she’d been mesmerized by all day and evening. Would they be warm? Tender or strong?

Would she forget everything in one perfect moment of bliss that would make everything right with the world? One brief, perfect moment she could lose herself in the way she hadn’t in so, so long?

Or would it be more than one moment? Would it go on and on until her lips were numb and every ounce of her was alive with wanting…?

Lucy realized suddenly that she’d actually leaned forward. Just a hair. But maybe enough to be sending a signal that relayed what was going through her mind. A signal she knew better than to give.

She sat up straighter. She leaned back ever so slightly but enough to overcompensate if she actually had leaned forward in anticipation of being kissed.

“So, what time on Monday?” she blurted out, her effort to sound businesslike sounding abrasive to her own ears.

But all Rand Colton did was smile. A small, secret smile that made her think he knew exactly what had gone through her mind. Knew exactly what she was fighting. Knew exactly what his impact on her entailed.

“I think we’ve earned a later start. I’ll pick you up at eight instead of seven-thirty.”

The car came to a stop at the curb in front of her house just then and Lucy silently thanked the fates for that bit of mercy.

She opened the door before the driver could put the car in park and do it for her. “Monday at eight,” she repeated much too brightly.

“Lucy?” Rand said to stall her escape.