Her Sexy Valentine (4 page)

No matter how hard Carol tried to keep her mind and hands busy and off the after-hours meeting with Luke, the workday crawled by. Conversely, her body hummed with restless energy. She told herself it was the nervous excitement of doing something unorthodox when it came to shuffling company assets. But Luke's near-kiss this morning had haunted her all day—she could almost taste his lips on hers. Why had he suddenly grown a conscience? Obviously, she was going to have to take control if this seduction thing was going to happen. She would sleep with him once, and because she was now so well-read on erotic love play, she would make sure it was the hottest encounter
of his life. And when the moment was right, she'd let him know she knew it was him who'd planted the icicle card and tell him to get lost.

At long last, the clock on her desk flipped to five o'clock. Already wearing her coat and with briefcase in hand, Carol walked out of her office.

Her assistant Tracy's eyebrows shot up. “You're going home?”

“That's right,” Carol said, biting her tongue to keep from telling her assistant she didn't have to explain herself.

“It's only five o'clock. Did someone die?”

Carol pressed her lips together. “No.” She handed Tracy the latest version of the memo, this time with four errors circled in red. “Again, please.”

Tracy sighed. “Yes, ma'am.”

Carol looked to the bullpen where her employees worked on dated computers, some of which were shared. A situation she hoped to remedy soon. Before she turned away, she noticed people glaring in her direction, then exchanging knowing looks with each other. Now
that she thought about it, her employees had maintained a wide arc around her all day…

She turned back to her assistant. “Tracy, is there something going on I should know about?”

The young redhead worked her mouth back and forth, obviously weighing whether to be truthful. “Well…word around the watercooler is you're standing in the way of everyone getting bonuses.”

Carol's shoulders fell when she realized the collective hostility being directed toward her. She was surprised how much the knowledge hurt, and it made her tone sharp. “I believe a better use of the money is reinvesting in the company. In the long run, we'll all benefit more.”

Tracy's mouth tightened into a bow. “I'll have the revised memo on your desk in the morning, Ms. Snow.”

“Thank you. Good night.”

As Carol walked out, she felt the heat of angry stares boring into her. But as a senior money manager for the company, it was her job to make unpopular decisions. Hopefully
the new equipment would help to alleviate ill will.

She braved the notorious Atlanta rush-hour traffic and passed the time taking in the magnificent, brooding color palette of the sky—reds and oranges. An omen of bad weather? Whatever the cause, it was unsettling to her for a reason she couldn't put her finger on.

At home she undressed and redressed slowly, studying her slight curves with a critical eye, something she hadn't done in quite a while. She'd gotten talked into a couple of blind dates in the years since she and James had split, but she hadn't been intimate with anyone. When the moment of truth arrived with Luke, she hoped she remembered what to do.

One thing was certain—she'd be drawing heavily on her recent reading material for the Red Tote Book Club.

The text message from Gabrielle suddenly slid into Carol's mind. She hadn't responded, and now felt compelled to, if only to circumvent the well-meaning woman from interfering. Pulling out her phone, Carol used the touch
pad to type in:
Thanks for your concern, but everything going as planned.

She hit Send and bit her lip at the white lie, but she knew Gabrielle well enough to know that the woman would worry otherwise.

When she drove back to the office at the prescribed meet time, Carol felt like a thief, stealing into the building after most people had gone home. She waved to the guard, then rode the elevator down to the basement. When she alighted, the cavernous space was darker than it had been this morning. Lights in only half of the offices across the way were burning. She could barely see to walk.

“Luke?” she whispered. “Are you here?” She turned and bumped into a wall…with arms. She stumbled backward, but he reached out and steadied her.

“I got you,” he murmured close to her ear.

“Why didn't you say something?” she snapped.

“I thought if I was quiet, you might grope around a little.”

Her eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness, allowing her to see the light of mischief
in his gaze. Her body softened in secret places, leaving her feeling exposed. He was teasing her, and she was bending like putty.

“Shouldn't we get started?” she asked, trying to regain the upper hand.

“Yes,” he said, sounding like a little boy who'd been reprimanded. “This way.”

He clasped her hand, then led her down the hallway. His fingers felt warm and strong around hers, sending her mind leaping in directions of how it would feel to have his hands on her naked body. Carol felt along the wall with her free hand. “Can we turn on a light?”

“I'd rather not draw attention to our little mission.”

She followed him until he stopped. He released her hand to punch in the key code and then a click sounded. Luke reclaimed her hand and guided her into the room, and when the door closed, turned on banks of lights to illuminate the room.

As Carol blinked against the glare, Luke emitted a low whistle. When he came into focus, she realized he was looking at her. “You let your hair down. I like it.”

She combed her fingers through the unruly layers self-consciously. “Thanks.”

“And wow, I don't think I've ever seen you in anything except a suit, Snow. Nice.”

She wore black jeans, black turtleneck, black bomber jacket and black boots. Satisfaction curled in her chest over his compliment, although she tried not to react. “Contrary to popular belief, I have a wardrobe and a life outside the office.” She nodded to his clothing. “You look more comfortable than the last time I saw you.”

In truth, Luke looked breathtakingly handsome in dark jeans, rugged athletic shoes, and a red V-neck sweater over a white T-shirt. He smiled and nodded, then leaned forward. “Interesting earrings.”

“Thanks.” Carol reached up to stroke the dangling sterling cylinders that featured channel-set emeralds. James had given them to her…. He'd said emeralds were the “stone of successful love.” What a load of manure. She'd worn them tonight as a reminder that men couldn't be trusted. She would use Luke to get what her employees needed, but she had
no illusions as to his motivations for helping her.

“Did you bring a list?” he asked.

She pulled a rolled sheaf of papers from her coat pocket. “An inventory of the equipment in my department, and a wish list.”

Luke unrolled the pages and scanned them. “Okay, let's start with the wish list. One color laser printer.”

At that point, it became a scavenger hunt. The two of them walked the aisles between shelves, looking for something to fit the bill. If one of them found it, they shouted out, and the item got tagged. It was almost fun, Carol conceded. She found herself looking for glimpses of Luke as he moved between shelving units. Damn, the man could wear a pair of jeans.

“So tell me about this life you have outside of work,” he called.

She hesitated, but being obscured by the cluttered shelves made her feel safe. “I like to cook.”

“Will you marry me?”

She blinked, then leaned into the open aisle. “Huh?”

Down a few rows, Luke leaned into the aisle, too, and flashed a grin. “Kidding.” His head disappeared. “Keep going. What do you like about cooking?”

Carol pulled back and toyed with a wireless computer mouse on the shelf in front of her. “I guess I like all the things that go along with it. In the summer I have a small organic plot in the community garden at Piedmont Park.”

“Cool. What do you grow?”

“Nothing fancy—corn and beans, peppers and tomatoes.”

“Gotta love home-grown tomatoes,” came his muffled reply.

“Food seems to taste better when you've grown it yourself,” she agreed. “But I like shopping for food, too.”

“I make a trip to the Dekalb Farmers Market a couple of times a month,” he said.

Impressed, Carol pursed her mouth. “You do?”

“Best selection of international beers in the area.”

She laughed. “That's true, I guess.”

He appeared at the end of the shelf where
she stood. “So, who gets to enjoy the fruits of your labor?”

Caught off guard by his sudden proximity, Carol blinked. “Huh?”

“Who do you cook for?”

She averted her gaze and pretended to scrutinize something higher on the shelf. “Oh…you know—friends and…stuff.” Nobody.

“No family close by?”

She shook her head and chanced a glance in his direction. “I don't have any family left. My parents are gone and I'm an only child.”

Sympathy flashed in his dark eyes. “I'm sorry.”

Carol shrugged. “Thanks, but I've been on my own for a while.”

“It makes me feel guilty for all the times I've wanted peace and quiet from my family.”

“You have a big one?”

“Three sisters, two brothers, assorted nieces and nephews, and my folks are still alive and well.”

Envy coursed through her. “That must make for big holiday gatherings.”

He nodded. “It's chaos.”

It sounded heavenly to her, but she didn't comment.

He disappeared again, then called out that he'd found another item on the list. Carol crossed it off her copy.

“Ever been married, Snow?”

Her head came up at his question even though from the sound of his voice, he was on the other side of the room. James's face appeared in her mind and her face burned with shame. “No. You?”

“No. Have you ever been close?”

“Not really,” she said. “You?” “No.”

Since he couldn't see her, Carol smirked. Meaning he wasn't serious about the “special lady” he was taking out for Valentine's Day dinner? No big surprise.

Even though he'd brought it up, the topic of committed relationships seemed to have soured him on conversation for a while because he lapsed into silence as he turned on machines to ensure they were operational.

They made multiple trips up and down aisles, opened boxes and sorted through bins
of miscellaneous equipment. Over the course of a couple of hours, they were able to find about half the equipment on Carol's wish list, and locate newer computers to replace almost all the machines her employees currently used. They were nearing the end of the list when Luke got chatty again.

“So, Snow,” he said from some unseen corner, “tell me about this naughty book club of yours.”

Carol squirmed. “It's not ‘naughty.' We read and discuss classic erotica.”

“I stand corrected—it's even dirtier than I thought.”

She couldn't help but laugh. “There's nothing dirty about it.”

His face suddenly appeared on the other side of the shelving unit where she stood. “Can you let me have my fantasies?”

Her traitorous body surged with longing. Instead of responding, she lifted a device that resembled a gun and pointed it at him. “I found a handheld scanner.”

He put his hand over his heart and pretended to stagger back. “You got me. With me gone,
you can do whatever you want with the half million dollars.”

Carol sighed, remembering the glares from her own employees. “It's not what
I
want, Chancellor—it's what I think is best for the company.”

He nodded, his expression congenial. “As long as you're not opposing the bonuses simply because it was my idea.”

And just like that, she remembered what a jerk he was. Anger bubbled in her chest—anger at Luke Chancellor, wunderkind, and anger at all the men out there who steamrolled through life, crushing the hopes and the hearts and the careers of anyone who got in their way—after using that person as a means to their own selfish ends. But she reeled in her temper, remembering her personal and professional goals. Luke would get his.

“No,” she said quietly, walking closer to brush dust off the shoulder of Luke's red sweater. It was a casual caress, but the warmth of his body reached through the fibers and seeped into her fingers, making them tingle. “In fact, I've decided to keep an open mind
when the directors reconvene tomorrow morning to take another vote.”

Luke's gaze followed her hand down his sleeve. “You have?” “Yes.”

“That's great.” He grinned. “I appreciate your being flexible.”

“I take yoga,” she offered with a smile. “I'm nothing if not flexible.”

She was feeling smug about throwing him off balance, but then the tip of his tongue appeared to wet his lips, sending Carol's imagination running in a different direction. Her midsection tightened. If only Luke wasn't so…orally gifted.

He was staring at her. “So…what now?”

Carol's pulse spiked. Should she make the first move? Kiss him? Tear off his red sweater? Tackle him? Her mind raced back over the erotic books she'd read…the common theme was women taking control of their sexual experiences.

Still…it had been a long time…

“What did you have in mind?” she asked.

“I was thinking it'll take most of the night.”

She swallowed hard. A little cocky, yes, but it was hard not to be impressed by his confidence. “P-probably. My place?” She had stocked up on enough body butter to slide through a keyhole and enough condoms to protect a sorority.

Luke gave a little laugh. “Of course your place. If it's alright with you, I'll supervise.”

Carol opened her mouth to agree, then narrowed her eyes. “Supervise?”