Michelle Celmer - Royal Seductions - Secrets - The Duke's Boardroom Affair

That would work.

She grabbed the cordless phone and was preparing to dial when the bell chimed for the door. Who could that be? She hoped it wasn’t her father. She hadn’t returned any of his calls, and he was probably getting impatient.

Maybe if she didn’t answer, whoever it was would go away.

She waited a moment, holding her breath, then the bell chimed again.

With a groan she set the phone and her nearly empty glass on the coffee table and dragged herself up from the couch, a touch dizzy from the wine, and picked her way to the door. She peered through the peephole, surprised to find not her father but Charles standing there.

What in heaven’s name did he want?

She considered not opening the door, but he’d probably seen her car parked out front and knew she was home. She just couldn’t force herself to be rude.

She unlatched the chain, pulled the door open and asked, “What do you want?”

Despite her sharp tone, he smiled. He was still wearing his work clothes. Well put together, but with just a hint of the end-of-the-day rumples. And he looked absolutely delicious.

Bite your tongue, Vic.

“I realized I still owe you dinner,” he said. In his hand he held a carryout bag from the very restaurant she had just been about to phone. As though he had somehow read her mind.

That was just too weird.

“I hope you like sushi,” he said, shouldering his way past her into her flat. Uninvited yet again.

So why wasn’t she doing anything to stop him?

“And if I don’t like sushi?” she asked, following him to the kitchen.

“Then you wouldn’t have a menu for a sushi restaurant conveniently by the phone.” He set the bag on the counter. “Would you?”

How did he…?

He must have seen it there that morning. The first time he barged in uninvited. “I thought you had a date.”

The idea that someone stood him up was satisfying somehow, although, what it really meant was she was his second choice. The veritable booby prize.

“I do.” He set the bag on the countertop and grinned. “With you.”

What was it she just felt? Relieved? Flattered?

Highly doubtful.

She folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t think it can be considered a date when the other party knows nothing about it.”

He pasted an innocent look on his face. “Did I forget to tell you?”

He took off his jacket and handed it to her. Like an idiot, she took it. And came this close to lifting it to her nose to breathe in his scent, rubbing her cheek against the fabric. She caught herself at the last second and folded it over her arm instead.

Stop it, Vic.

He wasn’t paying attention, anyway. He was busy emptying the bag, opening the carryout containers.

The aroma of the sushi wafted her way, making her mouth water. And if she didn’t eat something soon, the wine was going to give her a doozy of a headache.

“I’ll have dinner with you,” she said, then added, “just this once.”

He shrugged, as though her refusing his company had never even crossed his mind. Could he be more arrogant? Or more cute?

No, no, no! He is not cute.

It took only a few disastrous office romances to make her vow never to get involved with a coworker again. Not to mention the other laundry list of reasons she would never get involved with a man like him.

This was just dinner.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got a variety,” he said.

“I guess.” There was enough there to feed half a dozen people. She would have some left over for lunch and dinner tomorrow. And since he went through all this trouble, the least she could do is offer him a drink. “I just opened a bottle of cabernet.”

“I thought you would never ask,” he said with a grin, then gestured to the cupboards. “You have plates?”

“To the left of the sink.” She draped his jacket neatly over the back of the couch over her own and poured him a glass of wine, then refilled her own glass. She really should slow down, wait to drink until she’d eaten something, but the warm glow of inebriation felt good just then. And it wasn’t as if she was completely sloshed or anything. Just pleasantly buzzed.

The dining table was topped with half-unpacked boxes, so she carried their glasses to the coffee table instead. It was that or eat standing up in the kitchen, and she honestly didn’t think her legs would hold her up for long. She considered going back into the kitchen to help him, but the couch looked so inviting, she flopped down and made herself comfortable. Some hostess she was, making him serve her dinner. But he didn’t seem to mind.

Besides, that’s what he got for showing up out of the blue.

“Do you have a serving platter?” Charles called from the kitchen.

“Somewhere in this mess,” she said. The truth was she usually just ate straight from the carryout containers. “I haven’t gotten that far in my unpacking.” She paused, guilt getting the best of her, and called, “Do you want help?”

“No, I’ve got it.”

Good. She rested her head back on the cushions, sipped her wine, and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, he was setting everything down on the coffee table.

“Wake up. Time to eat.”

“Just resting my eyes,” she said. She sat up and he sat down beside her, so close their thighs were touching. His was solid and warm. She didn’t normally let her size bother her, but he just seemed so large in comparison. Intimidating, although not in a threatening way, if that made any sense at all. And, God help her, he was sexy as hell with his collar open and his sleeves rolled up.

She took a tuna roll, dipped it in soy sauce, and popped it into her mouth. He did the same. The delicious flavors were completely lost on her as she watched him eat. He even managed to chew sexy, if that was possible.

She peeled her eyes away, before he noticed her staring, just as the doorbell chimed again.

“Expecting someone?” he asked, like maybe she had a date with some other man that had slipped her mind.

“Not that I recall.” She sighed irritably and dragged herself up and walked to the door.

If she weren’t so relaxed from the wine, she would have remembered to check the peephole. And if she had, she would have seen it was her father standing there.

Victoria stepped into the hall and edged the door shut behind her so her father wouldn’t see who was sitting on her couch. “Daddy, what are you doing here?”

“You haven’t returned my calls. I was concerned.”

I’ll bet you were, she thought. Concerned that all of those lies have started catching up to you. The idea made her heart hurt, but she was too angry to cut him any slack right now.

Besides, now was not the time for that unpleasant discussion. “I’m a little busy right now.”

“Too busy for your own father?” He looked old and tired, but she couldn’t feel sympathy for him.

She needed another day to think about exactly what she wanted to say to him. Not that she’d thought of much else lately. Maybe she just needed time to be less angry. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

His mouth fell open and he stared at her, aghast, as though he couldn’t believe she would deny him entrance into her home. “Victoria, I demand to know what’s going on.”

The door pulled open and Charles appeared behind her wearing a concerned expression. “Everything okay, Victoria?”

She knew he meant well, he was being protective, and in many instances she might have appreciated his intervention.

Now was not one of them.

He’d just done more harm than good.

“What is he doing here?” her father said, spitting out the question.