Judy Hubbard - Our First Embrace

“Nothing’s wrong with it,” he insisted. “It’s not finished, is it?”

“No.”

“Then I think adequate is an appropriate assessment,” he rationalized. “I need to see the finished product before I know whether it fits with the Bettina line.”

“Of course.”

He cocked his head to one side. “That displeases you?”

“No.” She drew out the single syllable. “You’re right, of course.”

“I know I’m right.”

They stared at each other silently. She contemplated what to say next. She didn’t want to be constantly at odds with him. She wanted them to get along and have a good working relationship; therefore, she bit back the angry retort that was on the verge of jumping from her mouth. When she spoke next, her voice was calm and measured.

“I really want this job to go well,” she softly admitted. “I know I was late. I’ve apologized, but I couldn’t miss my brother’s wedding. My love for my family doesn’t mean I’m not dedicated to being the best designer I can be. I know I can learn a lot from you—if you’ll give me a chance. That’s all I’m asking, Mr. James.”

* * *

He silently studied her long and hard. He had expected an angry rejoinder to his frankly baiting previous statement; she had surprised him again. Her sincere plea affected him more than anything else she could have said.

“You’re talented, Nicole. You wouldn’t have gotten the job otherwise.” He paused before admitting, “I’m not sorry I hired you.” Her eyes brightened at his admission, and he was absurdly glad.

“You’re not?”

“No.” He smiled slightly. “I think you have great potential, and from what I’ve seen of your work so far, if you apply yourself, you’ll make a name for yourself in this business.”

“Well...” She seemed at a loss for words at his generous compliment.

“Nothing to say?” he teased.

“I... Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He suddenly stood. “Now close up shop and go home.”

“But I wanted to finish...”

“No buts.” He switched off her light, took her hands and pulled her to her feet. “Go home.”

“All right.”

He released her hands, picked up her jacket and held it out for her. As she slipped it on, he felt her nearness. His hands rested on her upper arms for a second longer than necessary. She slowly turned around and looked at him, and he swore he saw desire in her eyes, but it was gone so quickly, he wasn’t sure—although he definitely felt the heat between them.

“Can I give you a lift to the hotel?” Why had he said that?

“No.” She took a few steps away from him. “I’ll take the metro.”

“You’re in a new city. I don’t like the thought of you taking the metro by yourself at night.”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured. “I’m a big girl, Mr. James.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed.” He couldn’t keep from sweeping his eyes appreciatively over her from head to toe and back again. “Mr. James was my dad. Call me Alex.” He frowned when she smiled and laughed lightly. “What?”

“Victor said exactly the same thing when I called him Mr. James,” she explained.

“Oh, I see.” He nodded in understanding but felt a twinge of something he was loath to name at the mention of his brother and her sharing a private moment. “Come on, let’s call it a night.”

She hesitated for a second and then gave in and preceded him out.

Chapter 3

Once the elevator doors closed, for the first time in her life, Nicole experienced claustrophobia—the result of being alone in a confined space with Alexander. This man was too enigmatic for his own good—and, more important, for hers. What in reality was a quick ride down to the lobby seemed to take forever. When finally the doors opened, Nicole breathed a silent sigh of relief, though she expected her relief would be short-lived once she was trapped with Alexander in the close confines of what she instinctively knew would be a tiny sports car.

They said good-night to the guard and walked out. When they reached the curb, confirming her silent suspicions, a flame-red Ferrari convertible was waiting for them.

“Thanks for bringing my car around, Jacques.” Alexander patted the guard on the back.

“No problem, Mr. James.” Jacques smiled. “I enjoy any chance to drive such a fine machine.”

“She’s something, isn’t she?” Alex proudly glanced at his car.

“And then some,” Jacques agreed before walking back into the building.

“Wow.” Nicole’s eyes widened appreciatively as they traveled over the sleek curvaceous lines of the car that reminded her of the man about to drive it—sleek, powerful and gorgeous. Alexander opened the door and helped her inside before walking around and sliding behind the wheel.

The rich smell of leather assailed her. The black-and-tan dashboard and steering wheel contained a multitude of controls. It looked like a complicated airplane panel. For a car that cost upward of $300,000, she would expect nothing less.

“How do you like my baby?” He caressed the black leather steering wheel, and his left thumb pressed a button to start the car. The powerful engine roared to life, and he wasn’t even depressing the accelerator. “She’ll go from zero to sixty in three seconds.”

“She’s stunning.” Nicole sighed gratefully as the contoured tan leather seat conformed to her body as if custom made for her. “Breathtaking.”

Alex flashed a quick grin. “Fast cars are one of my vices.”

“One?” She cocked a teasing eyebrow. “How many vices do you have?”

“A few.” His grin transformed into a devilish smile. “Fasten your seat belt.” Once she did, he sped off. When he noticed her right hand clutching the armrest he asked, “You’re not afraid of a little speed are you?”

“Not at all,” Nicole said. “It’s just that the engine is so loud and menacing.”

“Oh, it is. This baby can really eat up the road.”

“You can say that again.” Nicole tensed as his baby proved his point.

“Relax.” Alex reassuringly squeezed her left knee. “I promise to get you to the hotel safely.”

Suddenly her apprehension at being a passenger in such a powerful machine vanished. Alexander’s touch ignited forbidden passions within her. Even through the material of her pants, where his hand rested, her skin burned. Her eyes pivoted from his hand resting comfortably on her knee back to his profile.

As if realizing what he had unconsciously done, he removed his hand quickly and placed it on the center console. Neither of them made mention of his actions, but each was keenly aware of them.

For the remainder of the drive, they said little and the tension between them grew as thick as dense fog. The spicy smell of his aftershave was driving her mad until she wanted to bury her nose in the crook of his neck and inhale deeply. What a handsome man. Stop that, Nicole, she silently ordered. He’s your boss.

* * *

The drive was short due to the speed at which he drove, His speed thankfully was somewhat constrained by traffic. She occasionally glanced at him, but his eyes remained focused on the road ahead.

He came to a screeching stop in front of her hotel not a second too soon to save Nicole’s sanity. The doorman opened her door before Alexander could, but Alexander was there to take her hand and help her out of the car.

“Well, here we are,” he announced.

“And in one piece.” She placed a hand to her heart, and he chuckled.

“Come on, my driving’s not that bad, is it?”

“No. This is an insanely powerful car, but you handle her beautifully.”

He liked the way she referred to his car as a person the way he did. Most women simply rolled their eyes when men personalized inanimate objects, but not Nicole. That was a mark in her favor—not that he was counting.