All or Nothing at All
Page 17
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Disappointment flashed in her eyes. “Sure. No problem.” She grabbed her stuff and stood up. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Her words dripped with meaning. His dick pulsed, making him feel like a damn teen boy. “Yep. Thanks,” he choked out.
When she shut the door behind her, he was able to breathe, but he knew in that moment everything had changed.
Sydney had grown up, and he’d finally noticed. The real problem would be keeping the necessary distance between them until the urge faded. Besides being part of his family, she worked at Pierce Brothers. Getting involved with her would be an epic disaster, and he had enough to deal with lately with his father and brothers. They were fighting all the time, having different views of how the company should go. The closeness among them had vanished. Even his mother was having trouble getting them to communicate or even to spend a meal together any longer. Something was going to break, and soon.
He needed to make sure he stayed away from Sydney.
chapter five
On Friday morning, Sydney waited outside her house, trying to ignore the sickening twirls in her belly. She felt like she’d just gone on the teacup ride and was ready to hurl. Embarrassed at her childish reaction, she kept reminding herself this was a business trip. Adam Cushman wanted a face-to-face in Manhattan to go over some important details and to begin moving forward. Since the attic incident, she and Tristan had spent the last few days working separately or in the office surrounded by people. The tension between them had turned from cool distance to shattering awareness. Today would be the first time they’d be alone since the kiss. She chided herself mentally for her worry. They’d chat politely in the car, listen to some music, have their client lunch, and go home. There was no reason to feel as if she was going to be held hostage and tortured. She’d set the tone, he’d follow her lead, and they’d get this thing done. Nothing to worry about. It was just a kiss.
The kiss. Oh, God, the kiss.
She burned just from the memory of that hot, soul-stirring, wicked kiss. He’d tasted like musk and sin. Smelled like the ocean and sun-warmed sand. Her fingers gripped rock-hard muscles trapped under soft, elegant fabric. He kissed her with the same raw passion and dominant control that always made her panties wet. It was everything she’d remembered but more. So much more.
Damn that stupid ghost.
He pulled up to her door in his silver Lincoln Crossover—both practical and elegant. Just like him, her mind reminded her. Whether he was closing a deal or stripping off his clothes, he’d always held an innate animal grace that buckled her knees.
Don’t think about it.
He strode around the car toward her dressed in a black pin-striped suit and red tie. Timber-colored hair swept back from his face, showing off his broad forehead, arched brows, and gleaming whiskey eyes. He opened the car door for her. She swallowed. Maybe he’d forget that moment of weakness and intimacy. They’d just managed a truce to promote their business relationship. Neither of them was prepared for more. “Morning,” she offered.
“Morning. I brought you coffee and a fruit cup.”
“Thank you.”
“You ready for this?”
She turned and found him standing close. His hand propped the door open, and a tiny smirk rested on his full lips. His jaw was clean shaven, and the delicious ocean scent of his cologne drifted from his skin. Her fingers itched to trace the faint scar that ran down his right cheek—evidence of a rock fight with his brothers that hadn’t gone well. A reluctant smile got past her. Did his question hold a hidden meaning, or was she being paranoid? She fought the blush and ducked her head anyway. “Ready.”
She got in the car, and he came back around, pulling out. The smell of leather and his cologne wrapped around her. Jazz music played softly from the speakers, soothing her ears. “You can put on the seat warmers if you’d like. It’s a bit chilly this morning.”
“March is temperamental.”
“Yes, it is.”
Silence descended. Sydney tried not to wring her fingers and stared out the window. One hour and twenty-eight minutes left to their destination. Could she pretend to doze? There should be plenty of room in such a spacious car, but it felt as if his powerful thigh was just inches from hers. Why had she worn a skirt? Her legs were practically naked and vulnerable to his gaze. He kept his attention on the road, sipping his coffee, not seeming to care that the tension between them was knotted so tight, she might choke. The chunky silver watch emphasized the sinewy muscle of his wrist and his long tapered fingers. She’d always believed he could be a concert pianist. Lord knows he’d played her body like a maestro. With his lips, too.
Don’t think about it.
“Do you know what the goal is for this meeting?” he asked.
She clung to the subject like a jumper to a parachute. “Contracts are finalized on three houses, but he’s holding out on the others. I think he’s giving me pushback for price. My margin is limited in order for this to be worthwhile for our local suppliers, so I’ll need to be ready for negotiations.”
“Smart. I’ve met him a few times when I worked in the city. He has an excellent reputation but is well-known to be ruthless. Most good businessmen are.”
“Are you?”
“A good businessman?”
“No, ruthless.” Sydney wished she could take the words back. They’d just popped out. The boy she’d loved was no longer here, but the man he’d become still intrigued her. For years, he’d been held under his father’s rule, until his ambition turned into a ruthless need to escape everything he’d once loved. Including her.
“When I need to be.”
She believed him. “Did New York teach you that?”
His grip tightened on the wheel. They were in new territory. Since his return they hadn’t discussed his time in the city or anything that could lead them back to their past relationship. But now, with their working truce, she admitted to being a bit curious about those five years when he’d grown into his own man.
His answer reflected no hidden tension. “Yes. I needed to go to New York and find out who I was without my family. Dad would never have allowed me to explore real estate. It was difficult at first, but I hooked up with a decent firm and began learning. In my spare time, I took some extra home-design courses and built my skills. After two years, I was ready to step out on my own. I recruited a small clientele and kept growing.”
Her words dripped with meaning. His dick pulsed, making him feel like a damn teen boy. “Yep. Thanks,” he choked out.
When she shut the door behind her, he was able to breathe, but he knew in that moment everything had changed.
Sydney had grown up, and he’d finally noticed. The real problem would be keeping the necessary distance between them until the urge faded. Besides being part of his family, she worked at Pierce Brothers. Getting involved with her would be an epic disaster, and he had enough to deal with lately with his father and brothers. They were fighting all the time, having different views of how the company should go. The closeness among them had vanished. Even his mother was having trouble getting them to communicate or even to spend a meal together any longer. Something was going to break, and soon.
He needed to make sure he stayed away from Sydney.
chapter five
On Friday morning, Sydney waited outside her house, trying to ignore the sickening twirls in her belly. She felt like she’d just gone on the teacup ride and was ready to hurl. Embarrassed at her childish reaction, she kept reminding herself this was a business trip. Adam Cushman wanted a face-to-face in Manhattan to go over some important details and to begin moving forward. Since the attic incident, she and Tristan had spent the last few days working separately or in the office surrounded by people. The tension between them had turned from cool distance to shattering awareness. Today would be the first time they’d be alone since the kiss. She chided herself mentally for her worry. They’d chat politely in the car, listen to some music, have their client lunch, and go home. There was no reason to feel as if she was going to be held hostage and tortured. She’d set the tone, he’d follow her lead, and they’d get this thing done. Nothing to worry about. It was just a kiss.
The kiss. Oh, God, the kiss.
She burned just from the memory of that hot, soul-stirring, wicked kiss. He’d tasted like musk and sin. Smelled like the ocean and sun-warmed sand. Her fingers gripped rock-hard muscles trapped under soft, elegant fabric. He kissed her with the same raw passion and dominant control that always made her panties wet. It was everything she’d remembered but more. So much more.
Damn that stupid ghost.
He pulled up to her door in his silver Lincoln Crossover—both practical and elegant. Just like him, her mind reminded her. Whether he was closing a deal or stripping off his clothes, he’d always held an innate animal grace that buckled her knees.
Don’t think about it.
He strode around the car toward her dressed in a black pin-striped suit and red tie. Timber-colored hair swept back from his face, showing off his broad forehead, arched brows, and gleaming whiskey eyes. He opened the car door for her. She swallowed. Maybe he’d forget that moment of weakness and intimacy. They’d just managed a truce to promote their business relationship. Neither of them was prepared for more. “Morning,” she offered.
“Morning. I brought you coffee and a fruit cup.”
“Thank you.”
“You ready for this?”
She turned and found him standing close. His hand propped the door open, and a tiny smirk rested on his full lips. His jaw was clean shaven, and the delicious ocean scent of his cologne drifted from his skin. Her fingers itched to trace the faint scar that ran down his right cheek—evidence of a rock fight with his brothers that hadn’t gone well. A reluctant smile got past her. Did his question hold a hidden meaning, or was she being paranoid? She fought the blush and ducked her head anyway. “Ready.”
She got in the car, and he came back around, pulling out. The smell of leather and his cologne wrapped around her. Jazz music played softly from the speakers, soothing her ears. “You can put on the seat warmers if you’d like. It’s a bit chilly this morning.”
“March is temperamental.”
“Yes, it is.”
Silence descended. Sydney tried not to wring her fingers and stared out the window. One hour and twenty-eight minutes left to their destination. Could she pretend to doze? There should be plenty of room in such a spacious car, but it felt as if his powerful thigh was just inches from hers. Why had she worn a skirt? Her legs were practically naked and vulnerable to his gaze. He kept his attention on the road, sipping his coffee, not seeming to care that the tension between them was knotted so tight, she might choke. The chunky silver watch emphasized the sinewy muscle of his wrist and his long tapered fingers. She’d always believed he could be a concert pianist. Lord knows he’d played her body like a maestro. With his lips, too.
Don’t think about it.
“Do you know what the goal is for this meeting?” he asked.
She clung to the subject like a jumper to a parachute. “Contracts are finalized on three houses, but he’s holding out on the others. I think he’s giving me pushback for price. My margin is limited in order for this to be worthwhile for our local suppliers, so I’ll need to be ready for negotiations.”
“Smart. I’ve met him a few times when I worked in the city. He has an excellent reputation but is well-known to be ruthless. Most good businessmen are.”
“Are you?”
“A good businessman?”
“No, ruthless.” Sydney wished she could take the words back. They’d just popped out. The boy she’d loved was no longer here, but the man he’d become still intrigued her. For years, he’d been held under his father’s rule, until his ambition turned into a ruthless need to escape everything he’d once loved. Including her.
“When I need to be.”
She believed him. “Did New York teach you that?”
His grip tightened on the wheel. They were in new territory. Since his return they hadn’t discussed his time in the city or anything that could lead them back to their past relationship. But now, with their working truce, she admitted to being a bit curious about those five years when he’d grown into his own man.
His answer reflected no hidden tension. “Yes. I needed to go to New York and find out who I was without my family. Dad would never have allowed me to explore real estate. It was difficult at first, but I hooked up with a decent firm and began learning. In my spare time, I took some extra home-design courses and built my skills. After two years, I was ready to step out on my own. I recruited a small clientele and kept growing.”
