A.C. Arthur - Eve of Passion

“So, your family has made quite a name for itself in the shipping industry. I’ve heard nothing but glowing remarks about Dubois Maritime.”

“Really? Do you work with a lot of clients in the shipping industry?” he asked in what sounded to Janelle like a skeptical tone.

“As a matter of fact, I was born and raised in Wintersage. Our founding fathers made their fortune in the shipping industry. My family’s very active throughout the town, so hearing your company’s name mentioned from time to time isn’t all that unusual.”

So there, she thought, lifting the glass of water the waitress had discreetly placed in front of her for a sip.

“Wintersage,” he repeated thoughtfully. “That’s about an hour or so away from Boston, correct?”

“Correct,” she replied even though she got the impression he knew exactly where Wintersage was. He’d probably done precisely what she had this morning and researched everything about her family on the internet. She was not fooled by his very calm, very assessing demeanor, not one bit—especially considering how scrumptious he looked wearing that demeanor.

Wow, she really needed to calm her raging and self-deprived hormones.

“So you’re heading the company now. That’s a huge responsibility for someone so young. Has it been difficult for you?” she asked.

He smiled then, slow, knowing, and she shifted a bit in her chair, covering the action by picking up the menu and acting as if that held more of her interest.

“One misstep will not end the date, Janelle,” he commented.

Her head immediately snapped up. “This is not a date,” she stated firmly. “And what misstep?”

His smile stayed in place, the expression a bit on the arrogant side, but she was trying to make this work, for her father’s sake.

“I’m not running the company just yet. My grandfather is still the CEO, my father the CFO. Right now I’m the regional manager, so I handle all of the day-to-day operations.”

He spoke as if he were educating her and Janelle was immediately offended. She had already opened her mouth to fire back when he held up a hand to stop her.

“I’m joking,” he said, chuckling lightly afterward.

Her lips snapped closed and she sat back in her chair, eyeing him suspiciously.

“You looked like you were ready to give me hell, so I figured I’d better clear that up quickly,” he continued.

Janelle had to smile in response. “Not quite hell, but I was going to say a few things.”

He nodded, his laughter subsiding. “I know it. But I’d like for us to have a nice dinner, to get to know each other better. So if it makes you feel better, we won’t call this a date. Besides, it’s probably better that way.”

Now she was offended again, or at least she thought she should be. But maybe not, since she’d been telling herself all day long that this wasn’t a date. She admitted only to herself that for the first time in a very long time, she was thrown off—even marginally—by a man.

“I would like to have a nice dinner, as well. So I won’t ask why it’s better not to call this a date.”

But she just had, hadn’t she? Maybe she should just leave.

“When I date a female, we focus on getting to know each other, and if that’s pleasing to us both, we take it to the next level,” he stated as if he were reading a report at a meeting.

“The next level being sex?” she asked without her normal processing-before-speaking rule.

He lifted a hand and smoothed down his tie, the motion confident, probably overly so, but intriguing at the same time. If she had to sum up Ballard Dubois right at this moment, she’d peg him as a conceited, self-important businessman who was used to getting exactly what he wanted. Which to her and for the purpose she was here for tonight was going to mean she had her work cut out for her, and she wasn’t certain she wanted to go that route just to get his family’s support.

“Yes, the next level being sex,” he answered.

“So you have a very methodical way of dating, I see.” Whereas she had a method of her own—don’t do it!

“I like to look at it as logical structuring,” was his reply. He leaned forward, pushing his menu to the side, his dreamy brown eyes holding her gaze captive. “It is logical to date before sleeping with someone because it clarifies the understanding between the two adults before their focus shifts to more physical pleasures. Once that understanding is perfectly clear, future dealings are smoother.”

“And by future dealings you mean for the time you wish to continue sleeping with her. What happens when that time is up?” she asked, curious and simultaneously annoyed at his candid nonchalance when it came to dating and relationships.

“You’re angry,” he said with a nod. “Let’s change the subject, since this is not a date.”

Janelle did not want to change the subject. She wanted to leave. She wanted to get as far away from this infuriating, egotistical man as she could. But if she didn’t get this out of the way now, she’d have another bullheaded man to deal with and she really wasn’t up for that battle either. So she stayed for dinner, ate her food, participated in the basic conversation and counted the minutes until she could slip that key card into the door of her room and get the hell away from Ballard Dubois!

* * *

Ballard had insisted on walking her to her door. He knew that their evening had started out strenuous but was pleased that eventually, it had warmed into a pleasant experience. He’d asked her about her business, which calmed and animated her. The way in which she spoke about her events was both passionate and professional and he found himself wanting to have some type of party or gathering just to have the chance to be around her again.

At one point she’d shared a story about a client who had endured one disastrous wedding planner after another until finally contracting with her Alluring Affairs. She’d laughed and he’d felt as if he’d been punched in the chest, the air so swiftly leaving him at the sound.

A strong physical reaction, he’d realized, and had proceeded with the evening, not giving it much more thought.

Now, standing in front of her with her back to the door of her room, he couldn’t help but think of the way he’d felt in the restaurant, because he was feeling the same way now. Seeing her face unobscured by a mask tonight had been a huge plus, but then, he’d already known she was a very attractive woman. The slight upward slant of her eyes, her full lips and the smooth milk-chocolate tone of her skin had blood rushing quickly through his veins.

“Ballard?”

He blinked as he heard his name on her lips, recovering quickly from his momentary speechlessness as he stared at her.

“A good-night kiss,” he whispered, moving in closer.

Her open palms immediately came to his chest, pushing slightly against him, to stop him, Ballard was certain. The problem with that motion was that it hadn’t reached her eyes. Instead, as Ballard looked at Janelle, he saw her lips parting slightly, her tongue snaking out to lick the bottom one, then retreating inside quickly as she cleared her throat.

“Yes,” he began, reaching a hand up to rub the back of his fingers along her cheekbone down to the line of her jaw. “You can agree because you want to. Or you can simply tell me no and I’ll leave.”

She hesitated, her hands still on his chest, burning the desire he was already ensconced in deeper into his soul. After another second or so of indecision her lips parted once more, a small sound escaping.

“Ye—” she began to say.

And Ballard moved in, swooping his lips down over hers, taking the plumpness into his mouth for a deep suckle before pressing his tongue inside.