Kate Hardy - Playboy Boss, Pregnancy of Passion

‘Hardly. I’m not the paranoid type.’

‘But you don’t let people close.’

He shrugged. ‘It makes life much less complicated.’

It also made life lonely, she thought. Not that there was any point in saying so. She had a feeling that Luke would claim he didn’t need anyone and that his life was just fine as it was. ‘You see the glass as half empty, then?’

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘It’s obvious you see it as half full. I’d say it’s simply half a glass. Telling it as it is, no flowery description.’

His words were light, but she could hear the warning signal: she might want to be friends, but he’d keep her at a distance. She kept the conversation completely impersonal for the rest of their lunch break, telling him what she knew about the history of the church, and he seemed to relax again with her. And, although Luke spent most of the afternoon either on the phone or in meetings, he was back at his desk just before she left the office for the evening.

‘Sara?’

‘Uh-huh?’ She glanced up from her computer and was rewarded with a smile that did actually reach his eyes. A smile that did seriously odd things to her insides.

‘I just wanted to say thanks. For sharing that garden with me today.’

‘Pleasure.’ And it warmed her that he’d enjoyed it. ‘See you tomorrow.’

‘Yeah. Have a nice evening.’

‘You, too.’ On the surface, it was polite office chit-chat. Though Luke wasn’t the sort to do chit-chat. He was always charming, but she knew he hated wasting a single second. So the fact he’d bothered to thank her and wish her a nice evening… Maybe he was learning to trust her. Opening up to her just that little bit.

Though Sara was completely thrown the next morning, when she walked in to find a beautiful bouquet of roses on her desk, all pink and cream. ‘What’s this?’

‘You made me stop and smell the roses yesterday. I thought I’d do the same for you today,’ he said. His smile was just the wrong side of wicked. ‘A thanks for helping me out.’

She shrugged. ‘Strictly speaking, you’re my client. You’re paying me to help you out.’

‘If you had the builders in, you’d make them tea and bring them cake and make a fuss of them so they did a good job for you, yes?’

‘Ye-es.’ Where was he going with this?

‘Same thing,’ he said. ‘Except you’re not a builder. You’re a girl.’

‘You noticed?’ she deadpanned.

‘I noticed.’

There was a flare of heat in his expression that triggered a corresponding flare in her body. To the point where she really needed a cold shower. She took refuge in being sassy. ‘Basically, this is a business expense.’

‘No. It’s from me to you, to say I appreciate you.’

‘And so you should.’ No way was she going to let him know that his comment, even more than the flowers, had just turned her into mush. She buried her nose among the blooms. Their scent was sweet, yet heady. ‘Thank you. They’re beautiful. How did you know I’d like pink roses?’

He coughed and gestured to her shoes.

She smiled. ‘Busted. OK, so it’s my favourite colour.’ She breathed in their scent again. ‘Thank you, Luke. These really are lovely.’

And when she made them both a coffee and put a mug on his desk, she gave in to the impulse and kissed his cheek.

‘What was that for?’ he asked.

‘Just to say I appreciate the roses.’

‘Pleasure.’ But he was staring at her mouth.

Just as she was staring at his.

Wondering .

She was used to giving hugs and kissing cheeks and ruffling hair. It was how she’d grown up, in the middle of a close and noisy and affectionate family. But kissing Luke’s cheek just now, being close enough to smell his clean scent and feel the softness of his skin against her lips…that hadn’t been her best idea. Because it had made her all too aware of him: an awareness that could be dangerous.

An awareness that grew and grew over the morning. Luke had a lunchtime meeting—one that had been in his diary since before she’d started working with him, so she knew it wasn’t an excuse to avoid her. She had lunch on her own, sitting on a bench overlooking the river. Giving her time to think.

Things were definitely starting to change between her and Luke; although Sara still didn’t really know what made him tick, she liked the glimpses he’d allowed her to see so far. Liked them enough to want to know more. To get to know him properly. And…

She took a sip of her ice-cold water. If she let her thoughts go much further in that direction, she’d need to up-end the bottle over her head to cool her down.

* * *

‘I’m pulling rank,’ Luke said the next day. ‘We’re having a working lunch.’

She coughed. ‘Lunch is meant to be a break .’

‘Refilling the well. Yeah, yeah, you told me.’ He flapped a dismissive hand. ‘But I need to brief you a little bit about this weekend.’

‘The operative word being “little”. I thought you wanted me to do it completely as a mystery shopping kind of thing?’

‘Even mystery shoppers need a brief. Look, it’s time for lunch. If you don’t have anything better planned, there’s a very good pizza place round the corner.’

He’d dressed it up as a business thing—but he knew full well that wasn’t what he was offering. This was the same as her offer to him the previous day of a weekend in the country: a date that wasn’t a date.

He’d enjoyed spending time with her in that tiny, perfect garden. And even though the alarm bells were ringing in his head, warning him that this was a dangerous game, he wanted more. Something about this woman made him want to break the rules. Get to know her better.

‘Sounds good to me. As long as we split the bill.’

‘You,’ he said, ‘are the boss.’

She laughed. ‘Yeah, right.’

He loved the way she laughed. It made him feel as if the sun had just come out after a dull, grey morning.

And why a beautiful, clever, warm woman with a sense of fun was still single was beyond him. He wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that Sara Fleet had been snapped up the second she’d turned sixteen.

Or maybe that was it. Maybe she was a widow. True, she was very young to be a widow—but life wasn’t always fair, and if she’d loved her husband that much… Then again, she was using her maiden name.

And why was he speculating about something that was none of his business? He shook himself. ‘Let’s go so we can beat the rush.’

They arrived in time to grab a seat under one of the umbrellas on the terrace overlooking the river.

‘Do you recommend anything?’ Sara asked.

‘It’s all good. The pizzas are wood-fired, so they’re fabulous. Wine?’

‘Thanks, but I’ll stick to sparkling water. If I drink at lunchtime, it makes me want to curl up and go to sleep.’

Luke suppressed the thought that he’d like to watch her curled up and sleeping, satiated after making love. He was meant to be keeping this strictly business. But there was something about her that drew him.

They settled on pizza, and sharing focaccia bread and a simple salad. But when the waiter arrived, he was clearly struggling to write down their order.

‘Luke, would you mind if I ordered?’ Sara cut in gently.

He spread his hands. ‘Be my guest.’

She said a few words in what Luke guessed was Italian, and the waiter beamed at her before bursting into an absolute torrent of language. Sara was smiling back, speaking just as rapidly. Luke didn’t have a clue what they were talking about, but he liked the lilting sound of the words from her mouth.

The waiter was clearly also charmed, because he disappeared into the kitchen and returned almost immediately with a rose in a vase.