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Under His Touch Page 8
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“We’re off to do some shopping,” she says to Amanda, and I tuck the brochure into my pocket.
“You’ll be hearing from me soon,” I say, and open the door for Megan. She squeezes past me, and her warm scent reaches my nostrils. I breathe her in, and work to marshal my desire as I step outside and guide her to my vehicle.
Two hours later, shopping bags in hand, she points to one more store. “Let’s go in there,” she says.
I hold the bags up; I’m so over this. “You don’t think I’ve bought enough?”
She pouts, and her pink painted lips pucker as she blinks up at me. “Just one more,” she says, her voice a pleading whisper, and I shake my head, unable to say no when she begs like that. Fuck, what I’d do to hear her beg like that in bed, let me know all the dirty things she’d like for me to do to her. We head inside some new trendy store and she gasps when she sees a blue sweater on sale. To her it’s clearly something special; to me, it’s a blue sweater.
“Try this on for me.” She grabs a casual dress shirt from the shelf. “This, too.”
“That’s it,” I say, giving her a warning glare. “No more after this.”
“Go,” she says, and waves me toward the changing room as she browses a few more items. I reluctantly walk to the back of the store and the sales clerk opens the room for me. I slip out of my suit jacket, unbutton my shirt and pull on the sweater.
“Can I see?” Megan asks.
I open the door, and her gaze falls over me. She makes a little noise, and I’m almost positive I see desire in her eyes. “That’s it. That’s the sweater you’re going to wear tonight. Along with the new boots and chino pants. It’s perfect.” Her eyes move to mine, and hold for a second too long. “There’s no way schoolteacher Danielle won’t fall for you,” she says, almost regretfully.
“That’s not really the goal.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “You know what I mean.” She steps into the change room with me. “Hang on,” she says, then puts her arms around my neck to adjust the sweater on my shoulders and tuck the tag in. Her hair tickles my face, and when I catch her honeyed scent again, my traitorous hands slide around her waist, pull her against me. She gives a small gasp, and when she lifts her face to mine, confusion mixed with need brimming in her dark eyes, I can no longer fight the battle. I dip my head, press my lips to hers.
At first her mouth is pinched tight, and I’m about to pull back, curse myself for my weakness, but then she softens against me, and I slide my hands down, run my palms over the curve of her gorgeous ass. She moans into my mouth, and I slide my tongue to hers, taste her warm sweetness. My cock grows in my unforgiving dress pants, and she moves against me, massaging my dick with her stomach. I back her up, push her against the mirror and practically dry hump her right there in the changing room with the damn door open.
Someone clears their throat and we break apart, fast. I spin and tuck her behind me as I come face-to-face with the sales clerk. “Perhaps you two should get a room,” he says, and I nod.
“Sorry about that.” I grin at him. “She liked my sweater. A lot.”
“You’ll be taking it, then?” he asks, and folds his arms, his foot tapping a steady rhythm on the carpeted floor.
“I’ll take ten. Mix up the colors,” I say. “Toss in a couple of the dress shirts, as well.” My way of apologizing for our inappropriate behavior.
A smile lights up his face. “You got it,” he says, and steps away. I turn back to Megan. Her hands are covering her face and she’s peaking at me through her spread fingers.
“Oh, my God, how mortifying.”
“It’s fine, and don’t worry. He’s getting a big commission because of our PDA.”
Her hands fall, and her eyes narrow. “Why did you do that?” she asks, her brow crinkled. “Why...why did you just kiss me?”
“Because I have a date with a ‘girl-next-door’ schoolteacher,” I say, doing air quotes around the words.
She smooths her sexy mess of hair down. “That still doesn’t explain—”
“I don’t usually date nice girls, remember? It’s been a week since you were in my bed, and I needed a reminder on how nice girls kiss, so I don’t screw tonight up.”
Lame, Carson. So lame.
She’s not buying it any more than I’m selling it, but she nods her head. “You’re up to speed now?”
“Yeah,” I say, even though I want to kiss her some more—everywhere, all afternoon.
“Then we probably shouldn’t do it again.”
“You’re right.” She’s about to move past me when I block the door. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to answer,” she says, throwing my words back at me.
I grin. “You’re going to Onyx for drinks with Sara. It’s across the street from Il Mercato. Did you choose that lounge so you could keep tabs on me?”
“That’s exactly why I chose it.”
“Are you worried I’m going to screw things up?”
“I’m worried about a lot of things, Alec.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Megan
YEAH, I’M DEFINITELY worried about a lot of things, especially this afternoon’s heated kiss in the men’s change room. My God, what was he thinking, and then to play it off as practice? I don’t know what was going through his head, I only know what was going through mine, and that was to shut the damn door and finish what he started.
I toy with my wineglass and stare out the window as I wait for Sara to arrive. I came to Onyx a bit earlier, wanting to catch a glimpse of Danielle, and possibly to see Alec dressed in the clothes we picked out for him today. I have no doubt he’s going to charm the pants right off the sweet schoolteacher, or rather the pretty blue dress, as that’s what she was wearing when she got out of the cab. She came here alone, but I have a feeling she won’t be leaving solo.
Shoes tapping on the floor catch my attention and I turn to see Sara rushing toward me, dressed in a pencil skirt similar to mine, and a blue blouse similar to my white one.
“Sorry, I’m late,” she says, and leans down to give me a hug. “I got caught up at work, and you know how that is.” She sits across from me, and the hostess lets us know our server will be with us shortly. “Are you eating or are we just having drinks?” Sara asks as she flicks her auburn hair from her shoulders. We might be cousins, but we look so much alike we could easily pass as sisters.
My stomach grumbles, a reminder that I haven’t eaten since lunch with Alec. “I could use some food,” I say, and flip open my menu. The server comes, and Sara orders a glass of white wine, while I get a refill on mine. Maybe alcohol will help me forget I just sent the man I used to love, and recently had sex with, on a date in his quest for marriage.
“Tell me, what is this event you’re setting up for Alec?” Sara asks, and I angle my head, glance across the street again when the front doors of Il Mercato open. Alec arrived before Danielle, dropped off by his driver, and they’ve been in there for a half hour now. I shouldn’t expect them to be finished so soon but I can’t help myself from checking every five seconds. “Something interesting over there?” Sara asks, and scans the street.
I take a sip of wine. “Very,” I say.
She leans toward me, almost conspiratorial. “Do tell.”
“New York’s most eligible bachelor is in that restaurant, with a woman who might be his future wife.”
Sara’s jaw drops open, and she blinks several times. “Alec is getting married?”
“Something like that.”
“Wow, I never thought I’d see the day.” We both go quiet when the waiter returns with the wine. She takes a sip, waits until he leaves and then asks, “Who’s the lucky girl?”
“Don’t know yet.”
She toys with the stem of her glass and gives me a look that suggests I might be l
osing my mind.
“Wait, I’m confused—”
“That’s because it’s confusing,” I say, and lower my voice. “Alec hired me to find him a wife. Technically his grandfather hired me.”
“That’s insane,” she says. “Alec has no trouble finding women on his own. I read the tabloids.”
“Yeah, but he wants a nice girl, a girl-next-door type. Tonight he’s on a date with an elementary schoolteacher. I set it up.”
“Since when did you become a matchmaker?”
“If I find him a woman I get to plan his wedding. Imagine what that will do for my career.”
“That’s amazing,” she says, “but a nice girl doesn’t seem like his normal type. Not anymore, anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“When you came to live with us, you had girl next door written all over you, and I assumed he liked that since you two were inseparable.”
“We were just friends,” I say.
“Yeah, tell that to the million girls who wanted to go out with him senior year, but he only had eyes for you. We all had a crush on him.”
“He never once hit on me. We were friends.” I learned that the hard way. “I kind of thought you had a crush on him.”
“Who didn’t. I wasn’t going to do anything about it, though. You’re my cousin and I’d never do anything to hurt you. I thought you liked him.”
I loved him.
“I didn’t know,” I say.
“So why is he looking for a nice girl now? I don’t get it.”
“He needs a ‘suitable’ wife if he wants to step into the CFO position at Blackstone. He doesn’t believe in love or happily-ever-after. He wants a wife in name only.”
“I never knew he was so romantic,” she mocks.
“Right?” I give a sad shake of my head.
She snorts out a laugh. “Oh, well, at least whomever he marries will get good sex out of it. I’m sure that man fucks like a god,” she says, and I nearly spill the wine in my glass as I bring it to my lips.
Don’t blush, Megan. Don’t think about the way he fucks and give yourself away.
Too late.
Fortunately, before Sara notices the color on my face, the waiter comes and takes our order. He jots it down and I close my menu and hand it over. When he disappears, I turn my attention to Sara. “How are things with Doug?”
She groans. “We’re done. Doug turned out to be a dud.” She gives a humorless laugh. “Maybe Alec is on to something, because I’m beginning to believe there is no such thing as love or happily ever after either.” She glances out the window. “What about you? How’s your love life going?”
“Let’s just say I’m about to buy shares in Duracell.” She laughs at that, and I pull a notepad from my purse. “How’s work going?” I ask.
“Busting my ass 24/7, but the senior partners keep overlooking me. I have more experience than Laura Sweeny, but her husband golfs with them, so she got the last promotion.” She scoffs. “I need a husband who golfs. Maybe that will help me get ahead, but there are just no decent guys out there and I’ve given up on trying to find a needle in a haystack.”
“I hear you. Okay, so two weeks to plan a party. You’re not giving me much time.”
She crinkles her nose. “Sorry, I was out of town for work, and time just got away from me. Will you be able to pull it off?”
“I’ll get the invitations out the second we secure a venue, which might be hard this late in the game.”
“Don’t kill me, but I was actually hoping to have it at the Skylark.”
“Sara—” I’m about to tell her there’s no way in hell I could get that last minute when she blinks at me and cuts me off.
“I told Mom, and now she has her heart set on it.”
I groan and sit back in my chair. “I’ll see what I can do, but Amanda won’t be able to cater. They don’t allow that.”
“You’ll make it up to her with Alec’s wedding.”
“True,” I say. “I’m not making any promises. But I’ll make some calls first thing tomorrow.”
I open my notepad and we spend the next fifteen minutes going over the guest list, the menu and decorations. Our meals arrive and after every bite, both Sara and I glance out the window, looking for lover boy and his date.
I tap my pen on the table. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Alec said he’d come to the anniversary party.”
“Maybe he’ll bring his fiancée,” she says, and wipes the corner of her mouth with her napkin. But as I think about Alec showing up with his fiancée, the chicken I just swallowed sits like lead in my stomach. “What?” Sara asks me when she notices I’ve gone quiet.
I blink. “Nothing.”
“Megan, please don’t tell me you’re still hung up on him.”
“I was never hung up on him,” I say. I glance out the window again and sit up a little straighter in my chair when the door opens, and the handsomest guy I’ve ever set eyes on steps outside.
“It’s them,” I say, and hope Alec can’t see us staring. Or can he? His head lifts and his gaze zeroes in on me. Surely he can’t see me watching from the dim light in the restaurant. He lifts his hands and gestures for a cab. It arrives, and he pulls money from his pocket and hands it over as Danielle gets in the backseat, no kiss goodbye.
The cab drives off, and he immediately starts our way. “What’s he doing?” I ask.
“I think he sees us,” Sara says. “He’s on his way over here. I don’t think the date went well.”
“Great,” I say, hating the relief I feel. I don’t want Alec. I don’t even really like the man he’s become. I don’t think.
I grab my napkin, twist it in my hands and scan the restaurant to find Alec stalking toward us. He doesn’t look angry, and I’m glad for that. Maybe the date went better than I thought.
“Megan,” he says, and steps up to the table. He bends, drops a kiss onto Sara’s cheek and flashes her a smile. “Nice to see you again, Sara. I’d like to get caught up, but right now I need to talk to Megan. Would you mind?”
Sara drops her napkin onto the table. “Actually, we’re finished here.” She checks her watch. “I need to get going. Work never stops. Megan, I’ll grab the bill on the way out.”
Sara snatches up her purse and leaves, and I sit there staring at Alec. What the heck is going on? He’s scrubbing his chin, his gaze latched on to mine.
“Have a seat,” I say.
“Can you come with me?”
“I... Sure.” I stop twisting my napkin and reach for my bag. Alec slides his hand around my body and places his big palm at the small of my back as he leads me out. “Where are we going?”
“I need air,” he says.
He guides me to the limousine that picked me up that first night and opens the door for me. I slide into the back.
“Hi, Phillip, it’s nice to see you again.”
“You as well, Megan.” He gives me a big smile, like he’s actually delighted to see it’s me getting into the backseat.
“What’s going on?” I say to Alec as he climbs in beside me. I scan his face, still unable to read him. He clearly has his guard up. “Did the date go well or not?”
“Not,” he says. “Phillip, how about a drive through the city.”
“Very well, Alec.” With that Phillip presses a button on the dashboard, and the privacy divider goes up.
“What happened with Danielle?”
“She was a good choice. I can see why you picked her. She fit my needs, but when I came right out and told her I wasn’t looking for love, things fizzled from there.” He shakes his head. “Here I thought it would be easy.”
“Maybe girl-next-door types aren’t impressed by your wealth.” Is it weird and awful that I’m happy he didn’t go home with her tonight? Yes, yes it is, Megan. You need to get him m
arried. Not just for your business but for Amanda’s, too.
He moves closer, and his thigh touches mine. The air around us instantly charges. I suck in a fast breath, sexual tension arcing between us. “Yeah, maybe,” he says, his voice dropping an octave.
“We’ll keep trying.” Dammit, I hate how raspy my voice sounds. “There has to be a nice girl out there who will be happy with the lifestyle you’re willing to offer.”
“Maybe I need to switch tactics, figure out how to impress a nice girl.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
“Are you willing to give me a hand?” he asks, his voice low and husky, and so goddamn sexy my nipples harden, and I grow damp between my legs. How can this man turn me on with a simple question? That in itself is a huge problem, and if I knew what was good for me, I’d knock on the glass and ask Phillip to pull over so I can run far away from this man, and this spell he seems to have over me.
I open my mouth, about to end this, but instead find myself asking, “What do you have in mind?”
Good Lord, girl.
He reaches into a cabinet and pulls out a bottle of my favorite white wine. He opens it and hands me a glass. I take a sip and moan. “Mmm, delicious.”
“Impressed?”
“I’m impressed that you knew my favorite kind of wine. I’ve always liked dry white, but my favorite brand has changed over the years, so how did you know?”
“I asked Amanda when I called her shop to put an order in.”
“Ah, I’ll have to talk to her about telling my secrets. What else did she divulge?”
“Nothing, and I’d rather find out your secrets myself. A nice girl would like that, right?”
“She probably would, and thank you for supporting Amanda’s business. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re a good friend. We should all be so lucky.”
I’m about to ask him about his friends when another thought hits. “Wait, why do you have my favorite wine in the car. Were you planning this?”
Instead of answering, he presses a button and the moonroof opens. A cool night breeze brushes over us, but my body is so hot, it’s refreshing. I glance out to take in the mosaic of stars shining in the velvet sky.