The Penthouse Pact Page 12

  What the hell? Okay, enough of that.

  Head in the game, dude. You just lied to your mother, so get it together.

  Layla cast Parker a quick glance. “Parker says he’ll even teach me to ski. Isn’t that right?”

  “Yeah, yeah, we’re going to ski,” he said, deciding then and there that she’d be going to Maine with him. As that settled in his brain, a huge smile came over his mother’s face, her suspicion gone.

  “Parker, come here.” She outstretched her arms, waving him in for a hug.

  Forcing his stiff legs to move, he crossed the room and leaned over his mother for the most awkward hug of the century. He pulled back and caught Layla covering her mouth to stifle a yawn.

  “You two need to get home. I’ll stay here,” his father said.

  “I don’t—”

  “Go, go,” his mother said, giving him a dismissive wave. “I’ll be fine.”

  Parker’s gaze bobbed back and forth between his mom and dad. When was the last time they’d been in a room together? Did it seriously take a heart attack to get them talking again?

  He scrubbed the stubble on his face. “If you’re sure.”

  “We’re sure,” they said in unison.

  Layla moved around the bed and made her way back to him. She leaned into him, and he pulled her into his arms. As tough as she was, tonight had to be hard on her. He needed to get her home and tucked in bed. Her exams were coming up, and she needed to be well-rested.

  His mother made some awww sound as he held Layla, and while they were faking an engagement—as stupid as that might be—deep down he wasn’t faking his need to safeguard her, protect her, keep her close. Was it because he’d slammed her with his car and felt responsible…or was it something else entirely?

  As they left the hospital, he said, “I’ll drive.”

  “You sure?”

  His heart pinched as she blinked up at him. “Yeah, positive.”

  She fished the keys from her purse and handed them to him, and he opened the car door for her. Once she was inside and buckled, he crossed the front and slid in next to her. He squeezed his eyes shut and cracked his window, needing the fresh air to keep him awake.

  “Not too cold are you?”

  She laughed. “Not with this coat on.”

  “Looks good on you.”

  “Jo would love it.”

  “Jo?”

  “Yeah, the lady I gave my old coat to.”

  He gripped the steering wheel hard. “Layla.”

  She laughed. “I’m kidding,” she said, but he wasn’t so sure.

  He made a mental note to have a Canada Goose Jacket delivered to her friend Jo, and every other person living on the street. He donated to the Red Cross and a few other organizations every year, but if this is what he had to do to keep her in her jacket and warm, then so be it. Once he got back to the office, he’d add her friend to his many lists of charities.

  “Do you do this shit just to annoy me?”

  She snuggled back in her seat. “Yeah, kinda.”

  He grinned at her smugness and put his car into gear. Traffic was light, and thirty minutes later, they were climbing off the elevator and entering his penthouse. The smell of chocolate chip cookies hit him hard, but he was too damn tired to even chew.

  “Sleep,” he said.

  “Definitely. Let me just wrap the cookies first.”

  “I’ll do it. You go get ready for bed.”

  “I’m so tired, I’m not going to argue.”

  “So that’s what it takes to get you to be quiet? Wear you out?”

  “Yup,” she said.

  He turned her and pointed toward the hall. She slipped into the bathroom as he rooted around for a container. He packaged the cookies and stretched his arms over his head as he made his way down to his room.

  Disappointment sat heavy in his gut when he entered his room and found his mussed bed empty. The sound of her bare feet on the floor drew his focus, and he stepped into the hall. She was already past him, and he reached out to capture her arm. He spun her to face him.

  “Where are you going?”

  Her glance went from her bedroom to his, back to hers. “Uh.”

  “In here,” he said, pointing to his room.

  “Still bossy,” she said, squaring off against him. “I see some things never change.”

  Yeah, he was a bossy asshole at times, but if she thought she was sleeping in the spare room, she had another think coming. “Please,” he whispered, and her face softened, her shoulders relaxing.

  “Parker,” she said, closing the distance between them. She went up on her toes, her fingers going to his hair as his lips found hers, and he kissed her deeply, a need pulling at him as he picked her up and carried her to his bed. The sun was rising as he set her on his mattress, and he tugged on his room-darkening curtains to block it completely. When he turned back to her, she yawned, exhaustion pulling at her.

  “You’re coming to Maine.”

  She laughed, but there was no humor behind it. “No, I’m not.”

  “I want you to have Christmas in the mountains, with me.”

  She eyed him for a moment. “Parker—”

  “What’s keeping you here?”

  “I…my…I have friends, you know.” Hurt registered in her eyes.

  Shit. He’d upset her. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Then what did you mean?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I know why you did what you did at the hospital. It was sweet of you, really, but you can’t expect me to go to Maine with you during the holidays. That’s on the other side of the country. Plus, Parker, I don’t quite fit in with your family.”

  “I know. You’re too good for them.”

  “No, that’s not—”

  “I’ll pay you?”

  Her head jerked back. “You’ll pay me to pretend to be your fiancée. I don’t think so.”

  He looked over her face. No time like the present to play his ace. “The money will go a long way to cover your winter tuition.”

  “I can’t take money from you.”

  “How about we consider it a loan. You’re paying off your coat with Thanksgiving dinner and a painting. Consider this money a temporary loan, and you can pay me back later.”

  She went quiet for a long time, and he could almost hear the wheels spinning. “A loan, huh?”

  “Yes, you pay me back.”

  Another long moment of silence and then, “I guess when you put it that way.” She crinkled her nose and plucked at the blankets. “Maine?”

  “I really will teach you to ski.”

  “I’ll probably break my neck.”

  “Say yes.” When she hesitated, he said, “Did you see the smile on Mom’s face? I think it added years to her life.”

  She punched him in the shoulder. “Low shot, dude.”

  He grinned. “I know. Did it work?”

  “Of course it worked. How the hell can I say no when you put it like that?”

  “So that’s a yes.”

  She threw herself back on the pillow, her hair splaying. “Yes.”

  Fuck, what was it about that word on her lips that made him crazy?

  Chapter Ten

  With her exams done and only one big presentation to give after the holidays, Layla was feeling a measure of relief as she puttered in the kitchen preparing Thanksgiving dinner. She was also thrilled that Parker’s mom was on the mend and had passed the stress test. They’d invited her to dinner, but she declined. Apparently his mom and dad were cooking together this year. Parker was still shaking his head over that one.

  The savory scent filled the kitchen as she pulled the oven door open, and her stomach grumbled. Then again, that might not have been her stomach. The sound could be coming from the television Parker had bought and installed in the corner of the kitchen for her.

  “Hey,” Parker said, and she turned to find him hovering in the doorway. She was about to shoo him away,
when he frowned. “I have to go into the office for a bit.”

  “But it’s Thanksgiving.”

  He sighed. “I know, but I have some paperwork that I can’t take care of from here. I shouldn’t be too long.”

  “Then go.” An idea formed as she waved a dismissive hand. With him gone, she could sneak away and go back to her apartment without him knowing. “I have everything under control here. Just be back by six.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want my help?” He looked at all the vegetables sitting on the counter, and the pots on the stove. “I feel bad leaving.”

  “Godzilla and I are just fine,” she said, pointing to the television. It still touched her that he went out and purchased a small television for her. Honestly, he was so thoughtful, and when he did things like that…

  Don’t go there, Layla.

  He laughed. “You’re kind of a weirdo.”

  She shoved him. “And you’re kind of in my way. Now go. My favorite scene is coming up, and I don’t want to miss it.”

  He touched her hair, his eyes serious. “I’ll see you at six.” He dipped his head, his lips close, his warm breath on her face. “Looking forward to it.”

  A tremble moved through her. She’d been in his bed every night since they’d had sex, but he’d yet to really touch her again. Finding out she was a virgin had totally freaked him out, but tonight she was hoping to show him that she was ready for more.

  She followed him to the elevator, and after he disappeared, she hurried into the kitchen to finish peeling the vegetables. Once done, she checked the turkey again and wrapped a handful of cookies in a paper towel. She grabbed her coat and purse and rushed to the elevator.

  When the door pinged open, Gregory gave her a smile. “Good afternoon, Layla.”

  “Good afternoon to you. Happy Thanksgiving.” She frowned, and realized he had to work through the holiday. She’d be sure to make him a special plate.

  She held the cookies out to him, and he shook his head. “You’re too good to me.”

  “My pleasure.”

  The doors closed, and he said, “Where to?”

  “I’m going out, but it’s a secret, so you can’t tell Parker.”

  He pressed the button and leaned against the glass wall. “Oh?”

  “Are there any cabs out front? Or maybe I could get an Uber.”

  He reached into his back pocket and said, “I can arrange a driver for you.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. It’s the least I can do for Parker’s fiancée.”

  Parker’s fiancée.

  Her heart missed a little beat, because she liked the sound of that far too much. But this whole engagement thing was fake, and she’d be wise to remember that.

  “Plus, you always make me cookies,” he said winking. “Talk about a way to a man’s heart.”

  He swiped his finger across the phone screen, punched in a number, and spoke to some guy he called Jeremy. The elevator opened on the main floor, and Gregory guided her off and took her to the front door. A big black car pulled up.

  “Is that for me?”

  He nodded. “Jeremy will take you anywhere you need to go and bring you back safely.”

  “Wow, thanks.” Heck, she could get used to this kind of luxury.

  She slid into the back seat and gave him her address. Thirty minutes later she was unlocking her apartment, not really knowing what to expect. The smell of must hit her, and she hurried to open a window. She glanced around. At least the floors were dry and most of the furniture had been replaced. The place was livable again. That thought gave her pause.

  I have no reason to continue living with Parker.

  Goddammit, she hated the disappointment taking up residence in her gut. She wasn’t supposed to feel anything for him—didn’t want to feel anything for him. She should have crashed on Andi’s floor and never have gone back to his place after the flood.

  Now she promised him she’d go away with him, pretend to be his fiancée. She took a moment to mull that over. There was no getting out of it now, and really, as long as she kept her emotions under wrap—understanding things would end when she returned—why shouldn’t she go and enjoy herself and the benefits that came with the pretend engagement. She might like the guy, but she didn’t want more anyway, right?

  She gathered what she needed from her apartment, then found herself in the back seat again, a tote bag containing a few secret items and one of her favorite paintings on her lap. She hadn’t started his yet and was looking forward to working on it for him, but this particular landscape would look amazing at his place, warm it up a bit, give it a personal touch.

  The delicious smells of turkey filled the air as she rushed back into Parker’s apartment, and she hurried to the stove to check on dinner. She gave the turkey a quick baste, checked the time on the clock, and turned on the vegetables. Parker should be home in an hour and that gave her time to get everything prepared.

  Hurrying to the living room, she rooted around in one of the cabinets, pulling out the placemats she’d found earlier. She set the big table for two—even though it sat a dozen—putting Parker at the end and her to the right of him. The wine was still chilling, so she left it for the time being, but added stemware to the table.

  Pleased with her efforts, she grabbed her tote and rushed to her bedroom. The zipper hissed in the quiet, and she dumped the contents. She picked up the bra and panty set she owned but had never worn—she’d had no reason to wear it until now. That first night, Parker had filled a bag with her intimates, but this sexy set—a birthday gift from Andi—had been in a box in her closet. But before she slipped into it, she had one more thing to do.

  Painting in hand, she walked into the living room and found the perfect spot to hang it. Good thing she brought a nail and hammer. Parker had nothing like that lying around. A professional decorator had done everything for him, which meant he had no tools. She positioned the picture, then stood back to look at it, a giddy feeling building in her stomach. Would he love it as much as her? What if he didn’t? Not everyone had the same taste in art. Shoot, maybe she should have rethought this.

  As doubt filled her, the elevator pinged open, and her heart raced. He was early.

  “Layla, I’m home,” he said, and the strangest sensations moved through her.

  Home.

  “There you are…” His voice fell off, and she spun around to find him looking at the painting, his gaze so intense it nearly stopped her heart. “What… When…” He shook his head. “Layla…”

  “I wanted to surprise you,” she said, her stomach tight as his brow furrowed. Did he like it? Hate it? From his expression, she couldn’t be sure. “Gregory arranged a car to take me to my place. I know you wanted to commission one, but I just thought this one would be so nice. I’ll still do one for you, though.” Jesus, stop rambling already. “Whenever you—”

  “Layla,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Stop talking.”

  Okay, she knew she was spouting, but she wasn’t going to let him get all bossy on her again. If she wanted to talk, she’d talk. One hand on her hips, she said, “I will not—”

  Before she could get another word out he took three big steps, cupped the back of her head, and pressed his lips to hers to shut her up.

  Oh, this was way better than talking.

  His tongue slipped inside her mouth, and he tasted like coffee and mint. She slid her hands around his body, and he tightened his hold on her, his erection pressing against her stomach, fueling the desire in her. Her sex clenched, and her nipples grew tight, eager for his hands, his mouth. He kissed her nose, her cheek, and moved to the shell of her ear.

  “I love the painting,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

  Pride swelled inside her. “You’re welcome.”

  He stepped back and tugged at his tie, his eyes never leaving hers. “How long until dinner?”

  “Twenty minutes,” she said, sounding completely breathless.

 
; “I can work with that.”

  Oh, God, yes.

  She pursed her lips and played innocent, even though her heart was hammering. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

  He let loose a long breath, like he’d been holding it for hours, or maybe seven long days. “It’s been a week, Layla.” He angled his head, his eyes studying her. “Do you think you can take me again?” he questioned in a soft tone.

  “Yes,” she whispered, and that one word seemed to do something crazy to him.

  “Thank fuck.” She yelped as he scooped her up and carried her to his room. He set her on the bed, and she smoothed her hair back, realizing she was a mess. Dammit, she wanted to put on her sexy underwear for him, and at least comb her hair.

  She pointed to the door. “I just need to—”

  He gave a hard shake of his head. “No.”

  “No?”

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “I have sexy underwear,” she blurted out. “I wanted to wear it for you.”

  The hard lines in his face softened. “Yeah?”

  She nodded. “I’ll just be a second.”

  “No.”

  “Parker.”

  “I appreciate the thought, Layla. Really, I do. But you don’t need to put on anything pretty for me. You are the sexiest woman I know. Nothing you wear will change that.” His gaze left her face and moved over her sweater and jeans. “Sexy. Just like this.”

  Warmth moved through her. “Oh.”

  His fingers went to the buttons on his shirt, and he quickly worked them and shrugged the material off his shoulders. Lust settled deep between her legs as she took in his hard ridges. She shimmied closer and put her hands on his body. His muscles clenched beneath her questing fingers. Excitement welled up inside her, and she squirmed.

  This is what I do to him.

  He groaned and tilted his head back. “Your hands are so soft.”

  “And yet there’s nothing soft about you,” she teased, working the button on his pants so she could touch him everywhere, explore every hard angle and groove. His breath changed as she pulled his pants open, and when his gorgeous cock sprang free, she leaned forward, and widened her mouth.