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“Wh-what?” I stammered, eyes wide.
His thumb caressed the top of my hand and now he stretched his other arm along the top of the seat behind me.
“You look amazing. That dress is the stuff fantasies are made of.”
I stared at Parker in openmouthed shock. His blue eyes stared right back, utterly serious. Surely I hadn’t heard him correctly? Had he really said I looked beautiful?
Those thoughts abruptly cut off when he let go of my hand, moving so his palm cradled the bare knee of my crossed legs.
I looked down. This wasn’t happening. Couldn’t be happening. But sure enough, not only was his hand on my knee, but it was also moving steadily up my thigh.
Before I could even think of what to say, how to react, Parker leaned over me, dipped his head into the curve of my neck and shoulder, and pressed his lips to my skin.
I sucked in a breath, utterly stunned. Parker was making a pass at me…and he wasn’t drunk. He’d barely sipped at his wine all evening. Not that I thought a man had to be drunk to make a pass at me, I was just saying.
Then his mouth moved, pressing light kisses to my neck, and my eyes fluttered closed. Tentatively, I tipped my head ever so slightly to the side, and I was immediately rewarded by the touch of his tongue to my skin.
Parker’s hand was high on the thigh of my crossed leg, the hem of my dress leaving a lot exposed, and the heat of his palm felt like a brand. My arm lifted and I found myself gripping his shoulder. Suddenly, I didn’t care why he was making a pass at me—I was just really, really glad that he was.
My pulse raced as Parker’s lips skated up underneath my ear. God, he smelled good. He’d shaved earlier so his jaw was smooth against my neck. My hand crept up until I could slide my fingers up his nape and into his hair. The strands were soft and thick and felt better than I’d let myself imagine they would.
His arm settled on my shoulders, pulling me closer. He sucked at the pulse beneath my jaw and my nails scraped lightly against his scalp as a shiver went through me. I was breathing way too fast, my pulse racing so that I felt almost light-headed. His palm slid along the back of my thigh, nearly to my ass, and a pulse of heat throbbed between my legs.
I wanted him to kiss me, but he was still sucking on my neck, which felt really good—too good for me to stop him. This close, Parker was overwhelming. His body covered mine, his arms around me, his hands touching me. I felt as though I were going to spontaneously combust at the heat between us. My nails dragged lightly through his hair and his palm was suddenly squeezing my thigh. I bit my lip against the moan that wanted to escape.
As suddenly as it had begun, he was moving away. I opened my eyes, then blinked. We’d stopped and the driver had gotten out and was opening the door for us. Parker was already standing, his hands going to the top button of his suit jacket to fasten it; then he was reaching back inside for me.
Nonplussed, I took his outstretched hand, sliding along the seat until I could step out. I struggled to get my bearings and automatically smoothed my dress, tugging the hem down into place.
“Did you get your purse?” Parker asked me.
I stared blankly up at him. Purse?
His lips twitched slightly; then he was leaning back into the car, pulling out the little clutch bag that I’d completely forgotten about. Oh. That purse. Threading his fingers through mine, he drew me next to him as we walked into the hotel.
My mind began to race. Parker had just kissed me. Well, wait, not like in the technical sense of kissing, but he’d definitely been making out with me. I was suddenly really glad I’d bought this cocktail dress. If it had been the impetus behind Parker making a move, then I’d preserve and enshrine the damn thing behind glass. Best. Dress. Ever.
The elevator was a bit crowded and Parker tugged me with him toward the back. I ended up standing in front of him as others got in after us and was forced to drop his hand.
What was going to happen now? Would we pick up where we left off once we were back in the room? Did I want that? What would that do to our working relationship and my job? Had I remembered to take my birth control pill this morning?
I wasn’t sure of the answers to any of those but the last one, which was yes, I had. Thank God.
The elevator door opened and people shifted to let someone out. I moved back, brushing against Parker, which was when I realized I wasn’t the only one turned on from the impromptu make-out session. I felt the hard length of him against me just as his hands settled on my hips.
That was a much-needed ego boost. I’d been so flustered when we’d gotten out of the car, whereas Parker had seemed so calm and put-together—it was a relief to know he was affected, too.
I melted against him, stepping close so my body touched his from my back all the way down to where his pants brushed my bare legs. If I’d had any concerns that Parker’s…endowment might not live up to expectations, those were put to rest, because it felt like I would be quite pleased indeed.
He grew harder against my backside and I wanted to rub against him like a cat, but that would look weird, so I settled for pressing closer to him. His hands bit into my hips as I nestled my rear against his erection, and I hid a smile.
Oh yeah. This was going to be oh so good.
Chapter Eight
The trip down the hallway from the elevator to our room seemed interminable…and awkward. We hadn’t spoken at all and I really hoped he said something soon, because I certainly didn’t know what to say. Well, I knew I wanted to be screaming his name—sooner rather than later—but that was about as far as my thought processes could get.
I fished the room key from my bag as we stopped in front of the door. Parker stood behind me. I nearly dropped my clutch when I felt his knuckles trail up my exposed back to my shoulder blades, then slowly back down to my waist. My temperature shot up as my breath caught in my throat.
Oh God. If this man’s mere touch on my back had this kind of effect on me, it was going to be one hell of a night. I could hardly wait.
My fingers felt like I had ten thumbs and I fumbled with the key card until Parker plucked it from my hand and inserted it into the slot. Ha! Insert into slot. I stifled a nerves-induced giggle at my own ridiculously bad joke.
The door opened and I nearly fell inside in my haste. Would it seem too forward to just yank my dress over my head? Or should I let him undress me? Or, frankly, at the moment I’d be happy with fully clothed, minus panties, and against the wall.
Tossing my clutch onto the table, I turned around, thinking the hell with it, I’d just strip the dress off and worry about finesse later. I’d yet to meet a man who didn’t appreciate a woman wearing just heels and a thong. But Parker wasn’t right behind me, as I’d expected. He was by the nightstand, inspecting the lamp.
I frowned. “What are you—”
He was suddenly right in front of me, his hand over my mouth, silencing me. My eyes widened. Was Parker into…games? Being tied up was one thing, but gagged didn’t sound very appealing. But thinking again about what I’d felt against my back in the elevator…okay, sure, what the hell.
Placing his lips right at my ear, he whispered, “Shhh.”
I watched in complete bemusement as Parker proceeded to search every inch of our hotel room. He pried something from the inside of the lamp, then a few minutes later, something else from underneath the desk, way in the back by the wall.
Stepping in front of me, he held open his palm. I looked down to see two small, circular devices, no bigger than a dime each. Confused, I glanced back up at him. He set a finger to his lips, then disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the toilet flush; then he came back out.
“I think I got them all,” he said with a sigh. He discarded his jacket and loosened his tie while I stood in the middle of the room, wondering what the hell was going on.
“Got them all?” I repeated. “What are you talking about?”
“I showed them to you,” Parker said. He had his phone out now and was typing something wit
h one hand, so didn’t look up. “Listening devices.”
I didn’t reply and he finally glanced at me.
“You know. Bugs,” he said.
“They had…bugged us? Were listening to us?” I was trying to wrap my head around first that Parker had made out with me in the car, and that now apparently they’d bugged the hotel room. I was glad he’d destroyed the bugs, but at the moment couldn’t care less if Viktor heard me screaming my orgasm right into his ear.
Parker slipped his phone back in his pocket and approached me.
“Listen, Sage, I need to apologize,” he said. A sinking feeling came into my stomach at the grimness of his tone. “It was completely unprofessional to…do what I did…in the car. I knew they would be watching. They already think you and I have a personal relationship, and it occurred to me that the more they believed that, the safer you’d be. They don’t want to piss me off.”
“What are you saying?” I thought I knew, but hoped I was wrong. My stomach churned like I was going to be sick.
Parker’s gaze was steady. “I’m saying that I appreciate your cooperation in helping ensure Viktor and Sergei believe we’re involved. I apologize for not being able to warn you ahead of time.”
I felt the blood leave my face as I stared in horrified disbelief at Parker. His kissing me, touching me, all of it, had been an act? He’d been pretending? The whole time? Whereas I…I had most certainly not been pretending.
“Oh God…,” I whispered. I took a shaky step back from Parker.
I heard the buzz of his cell and he pulled it from his pocket to check the screen before glancing back at me. I knew I should do something, say something, but had no clue as to what. My boss now knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I would sleep with him if he asked.
It was mortifying. Humiliating.
Parker seemed to sense that this wasn’t going over very well, because he said, “Listen, why don’t I give you some privacy? I’ll be back soon.” And just like that, I was watching him walk out.
I stood in the middle of the room, staring at the closed door. My hands were curled into fists, my nails cutting into my palms.
A wave of shame washed over me, weakening my knees. I sat heavily on the bed. My eyes stung, but I blinked back the tears that wanted to fall.
Oh my God, what must Parker think of me? He must be thinking I was a total slut was what he was thinking. I hadn’t even attempted to push him away or made any move to show I wasn’t totally down with sleeping with my boss.
The elevator. I cringed, remembering how I’d pressed against him. Yes, he’d had a hard-on, but he was a guy. That didn’t mean a damn thing. They got hard-ons watching Victoria’s Secret commercials, for chrissakes.
The whole night seemed like one big screwup. First with Parker having a fit about the dress, then dinner with scary Viktor, and now a cluster of epic proportion between Parker and me. Groaning, I fell back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.
There was no help for it. I had to quit my job and leave the country. I idly wondered if my passport was up to date. Maybe I should let my dad spring for that trip to Italy he’d been tempting me with. I’d kept turning him down because I hadn’t wanted to leave Parker for the three-week trip. At the moment, three weeks out of Parker’s sight sounded perfect.
Knowing Parker would be back soon, I most definitely wanted to be sleeping—or at least pretending to be sleeping—by the time he returned. I hurried to change into my pajamas, brush my teeth, and take off my makeup.
Not expecting to share a room with my boss, I’d packed my usual nighttime attire—a short little chemise gown with spaghetti straps. I was thankful this one wasn’t see-through, the satin an opaque black with a bit of ivory lace that trimmed my cleavage.
I turned off the lights, switched on the television, and climbed into bed, taking the one closest to the bathroom. I kept the volume turned down low, watching Jimmy on The Tonight Show.
I didn’t want to think about what had happened earlier. I couldn’t change how I’d reacted. Parker hadn’t seemed mad. He’d seemed as unemotional as he usually was—merely coolly professional. Surely I could be that way, too. I just wouldn’t think about how amazing it had felt to be in his arms, his mouth against my skin. Or how much I’d wanted him to strip off my clothes and make love to me.
Or how disappointed I was that he hadn’t.
Tears dripped down the side of my nose and I hurriedly wiped them away. This was stupid. Really? I was going to cry about it, for goodness’ sake? Yet even as I thought how ridiculous I was being, the tears kept leaking from my eyes. I heaved a sigh. I needed M&M’s.
Almost thirty minutes later the door opened and Parker walked in. I closed my eyes. I was on my side, facing Parker’s bed, and now I wished I’d had the foresight to turn my back to him. Too late now.
The light from the television flickered against my closed lids, Jimmy’s voice and the laughter of the audience a low murmur of sound. I’d pulled the covers up beneath my arm, though now it would’ve been great if I’d gotten fully beneath them to hide even more.
I felt more than heard Parker approach, then the crinkle of a wrapper as he set something down on the nightstand between our beds. Then I heard nothing. I barely breathed. Had he moved away? I couldn’t tell. I didn’t know how I was going to face him in the morning, much less if I had to say something to him now. I was still so embarrassed. And hurt. Yes, if I was honest with myself, I was hurt.
Oh no. I had to sniff. Water still stung behind my eyes and now, God forbid, I could feel it creeping down my nose. Shit shit shit! And, of course, the more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t stand it, until finally I had to sniff. Giving up the pretense, I opened my eyes.
Parker stood right in front of me.
I couldn’t help but glance up at him, to find that he was watching me, an inscrutable expression on his face.
He’d taken off his tie and undone the top two buttons on his shirt, and even as I processed this, he crouched down so he was closer to my level.
Reaching out, he gently brushed my arm with his fingers. He touched the bruises Vladimir had left and appeared to be studying them, his forehead creased in a frown. Our eyes met.
He didn’t speak, but his face softened. His hand drifted from my arm to my cheek, brushing away a damp trail I hadn’t been successful in holding back.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
My face heated and I couldn’t look in his eyes. I lowered my lashes, shifting my shoulders in a shrug, as I didn’t trust my voice to answer. What was his cryptic apology for? Making out with me? Or the effect it’d had on me when he hadn’t delivered on what had seemed a done deal? He didn’t elaborate and I didn’t want to ask.
Parker brushed my hair back from my face, his hand slowly tangling in the long, thick strands. I lifted my gaze to his eyes, which shone like silver in the low light.
He didn’t say anything else and for just this one brief moment, everything between us was stripped bare. I had nothing to hide behind—no duties or pencil skirt, no French twist or steno pad. I’d do anything for Parker, even make myself incredibly vulnerable to him in the most intimate way, and now he knew it.
I tried to see anything in his eyes, anything that might show he felt something for me. Something more than the usual gratitude and appreciation a boss had for a particularly hard worker. But it was impossible to tell.
He stood, his hand drawing slowly back, the locks of my hair slipping between his fingers, and I felt the same overwhelming disappointment that had consumed me earlier. He leaned down over me, and for a breathless moment, I thought I was wrong, that he was going to kiss me and take up where we’d left off. But he didn’t.
His lips pressed against my forehead, and my eyes slipped shut; then he moved away. I watched in silence as he took off his shirt and drew his T-shirt over his head. Pressing the switch on the television, he turned it off and I heard the rustle of clothing as he
finished undressing, then the slight creak of the other bed.
I didn’t know how long it took him to fall asleep. I just knew I lay awake for a long time, staring at the vague outline of him in the darkness, mere feet away.
* * *
The door closing to the room woke me in the morning. I sat up, disoriented from too little sleep, and realized Parker was gone.
I flopped back down, heaving a sigh of relief. Put off facing my boss, who knew I wanted to sleep with him? Yes, please.
It had been a long night and I hadn’t fallen asleep until the wee hours of the morning. My mind had been spinning, trying to think of how I was going to continue business as usual with Parker. I hadn’t come up with a solution before exhaustion had overtaken me.
I was sure to hurry into the shower and get ready as quickly as possible. The armor of my usual work clothes helped me not think about last night, and I was just putting the last pin in my hair when the door opened.
Parker must have gone to work out again, because I could hear him breathing heavily and the scent of his sweat drifted to me. Nerves twisted my stomach into knots and I grabbed my purse and slipped on my heels.
“I’m going to get some coffee,” I said without looking at him; then I was out the door and heading down the hallway before he’d even had a chance to say a word.
Coffee was all I was getting because the thought of eating and then spending the next eight hours locked in a conference room with Parker made me physically ill. There was a Starbucks in the lobby and habit made me get Parker’s usual as well as a triple soy mocha (add whip) for me. I glanced at my watch, knowing that the meeting began at eight-thirty. When it was five after, I grudgingly returned to the room, wishing I had a shot of whiskey to put in my coffee.
Parker was finishing his tie when I walked in. He glanced at me and my eyes skittered quickly away.
“I got you some coffee,” I said, setting his cup on the desk. “I checked with the hotel. The conference room will be ready to go and I requested a coffee and pastry service to be set up.” Routine was good. Routine was normal.