Breathless In Love
Page 60
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But when, outside of a fairytale, did the gorgeous billionaire actually fall for the normal girl?
“Does that sound good to you?”
She looked into his deep blue eyes, and despite all the worries and questions circling inside of her, she melted. Just like always. “It sounds amazing. I’ve been dying to see Wicked.” She was pleased by how calmly and steadily the words came out, as if she actually had any self-control at all where he was concerned.
* * *
Oh God, she thought on Friday night, I am so not in control.
How could she be when the evening was this fabulous? Will was utterly gorgeous in a black tux and white shirt. Dinner had been at an exclusive private club on Nob Hill that didn’t even have a menu, where the waiter had recited delectable descriptions that left her mouth watering.
And so did Will. He was his usual can’t-keep-his-hands-to-himself, first at the restaurant, and then at the theater in their private box. Almost as if he wanted to keep spinning her out on the delicious edge of pleasure every moment so that she couldn’t spare one single brain cell to dwell on worries and questions. He’d made her feel special, desirable, irresistible, beautiful—as though she was the center of his world.
After she’d visited the ladies’ room during the intermission, she found Will in the crush of elegantly dressed theater patrons, amid photographers snapping pictures of the beautiful, rich, and famous. He was waiting for her just down the hall, a champagne glass in each hand.
“You looked thirsty.” He kissed the tip of her nose.
It was so sweet, something a man did to a woman who belonged to him. As though they were a real couple rather than just friends with benefits. As though he felt for her exactly what she was feeling for him. Despite all the reminders she kept giving herself, she couldn’t help but be totally swept up in the romance of it all.
Until a male voice came between them. “Will, it’s good to see you outside of the office.”
The man was older, mid-forties maybe, and well-bred handsome. His short dark hair had very little silver in it, and his eyes were a steel gray that seemed to pierce through everything. Harper’s hair wasn’t exclusive-salon prepped, her nails weren’t manicured, and her dress was off-the-rack among all the designer gowns floating around the mezzanine. She’d never cared about any of that before...but compared to the drop-dead-gorgeous woman hanging on the man’s arm, Harper felt horribly out of her depth. Just the way she had several times before, when Will had swept her into his amazing world of fast cars and caviar.
“Cal, great to see you, too.” Will’s voice was warm as he held out his hand and the two men shook. “Monette.” His voice became slightly less warm. “Please meet Harper.” He slid his fingers around Harper’s, then told her, “Cal is business manager for the Maverick Group.”
The beautiful Monette was staring at Harper’s hand clasped in Will’s. She smiled, but despite her lush lips, perfect cheekbones, and expert makeup, the smile didn’t move beyond that slight twitch of her mouth. Her manicured grip tightened on Cal’s arm.
Will made polite conversation. “I’m so glad Harper agreed to come with me tonight.”
“It’s been such a treat,” she said, hoping her smile looked genuine despite her discomfort beneath the other woman’s laser-focused gaze.
When Cal smiled back, it filled his face and deepened the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. “A Wicked treat.”
“Oh Cal, you’re so funny and smart.” Monette spoke for the first time, her tone sultry, as if she’d whispered something naughty. Her gold dress sparkled with tiny jewels that Harper thought might actually be real.
She would not feel bad in her classic black cocktail dress, one she’d been so pleased to find on sale last year.
Will squeezed Harper’s fingers as though he could hear her thoughts. Not wanting him to think she wasn’t making an effort with his friends, she told them, “I haven’t been to the theater since The Phantom of the Opera.”
“That show was here ages ago, wasn’t it?” Monette drawled, as though she’d scored a point in a game Harper hadn’t realized they were playing. “I’m so glad Cal has been taking me to see everything lately.” She stroked the arm she held and blinked bedroom eyes at him.
Cal looked at Monette, a line between his brows, then at Will as if a light bulb was going on.
Oh. Well then. The light bulb had just gone on for Harper, too. Clearly, Will had a history with this woman. A sexy history, if Harper had to guess.
“This is only our second show,” Cal corrected politely, still smiling, still friendly.
But Monette’s eyes narrowed like those of a Siamese cat. Harper couldn’t say for sure, but she had the distinct impression this would be their last show. She was good at reading people, and the business manager looked like a man who, out of respect, wouldn’t date a woman who’d already infiltrated the Maverick Group once before.
Will beamed at Harper as though he was oblivious to the byplay. “Monette’s right. I’ve been remiss.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I should have been taking you out on the town instead of keeping you all to myself.” His eyes darkened as if he’d forgotten there were other people in the conversation as he added, “But I haven’t been able to help myself.”
All right, Will definitely wasn’t oblivious. But Harper stopped caring as her pulse raced and she couldn’t look away from him, couldn’t do anything but wish they were somewhere private so that he could strip her clothes off and make love to her. And she could make love to him, too.
“Does that sound good to you?”
She looked into his deep blue eyes, and despite all the worries and questions circling inside of her, she melted. Just like always. “It sounds amazing. I’ve been dying to see Wicked.” She was pleased by how calmly and steadily the words came out, as if she actually had any self-control at all where he was concerned.
* * *
Oh God, she thought on Friday night, I am so not in control.
How could she be when the evening was this fabulous? Will was utterly gorgeous in a black tux and white shirt. Dinner had been at an exclusive private club on Nob Hill that didn’t even have a menu, where the waiter had recited delectable descriptions that left her mouth watering.
And so did Will. He was his usual can’t-keep-his-hands-to-himself, first at the restaurant, and then at the theater in their private box. Almost as if he wanted to keep spinning her out on the delicious edge of pleasure every moment so that she couldn’t spare one single brain cell to dwell on worries and questions. He’d made her feel special, desirable, irresistible, beautiful—as though she was the center of his world.
After she’d visited the ladies’ room during the intermission, she found Will in the crush of elegantly dressed theater patrons, amid photographers snapping pictures of the beautiful, rich, and famous. He was waiting for her just down the hall, a champagne glass in each hand.
“You looked thirsty.” He kissed the tip of her nose.
It was so sweet, something a man did to a woman who belonged to him. As though they were a real couple rather than just friends with benefits. As though he felt for her exactly what she was feeling for him. Despite all the reminders she kept giving herself, she couldn’t help but be totally swept up in the romance of it all.
Until a male voice came between them. “Will, it’s good to see you outside of the office.”
The man was older, mid-forties maybe, and well-bred handsome. His short dark hair had very little silver in it, and his eyes were a steel gray that seemed to pierce through everything. Harper’s hair wasn’t exclusive-salon prepped, her nails weren’t manicured, and her dress was off-the-rack among all the designer gowns floating around the mezzanine. She’d never cared about any of that before...but compared to the drop-dead-gorgeous woman hanging on the man’s arm, Harper felt horribly out of her depth. Just the way she had several times before, when Will had swept her into his amazing world of fast cars and caviar.
“Cal, great to see you, too.” Will’s voice was warm as he held out his hand and the two men shook. “Monette.” His voice became slightly less warm. “Please meet Harper.” He slid his fingers around Harper’s, then told her, “Cal is business manager for the Maverick Group.”
The beautiful Monette was staring at Harper’s hand clasped in Will’s. She smiled, but despite her lush lips, perfect cheekbones, and expert makeup, the smile didn’t move beyond that slight twitch of her mouth. Her manicured grip tightened on Cal’s arm.
Will made polite conversation. “I’m so glad Harper agreed to come with me tonight.”
“It’s been such a treat,” she said, hoping her smile looked genuine despite her discomfort beneath the other woman’s laser-focused gaze.
When Cal smiled back, it filled his face and deepened the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. “A Wicked treat.”
“Oh Cal, you’re so funny and smart.” Monette spoke for the first time, her tone sultry, as if she’d whispered something naughty. Her gold dress sparkled with tiny jewels that Harper thought might actually be real.
She would not feel bad in her classic black cocktail dress, one she’d been so pleased to find on sale last year.
Will squeezed Harper’s fingers as though he could hear her thoughts. Not wanting him to think she wasn’t making an effort with his friends, she told them, “I haven’t been to the theater since The Phantom of the Opera.”
“That show was here ages ago, wasn’t it?” Monette drawled, as though she’d scored a point in a game Harper hadn’t realized they were playing. “I’m so glad Cal has been taking me to see everything lately.” She stroked the arm she held and blinked bedroom eyes at him.
Cal looked at Monette, a line between his brows, then at Will as if a light bulb was going on.
Oh. Well then. The light bulb had just gone on for Harper, too. Clearly, Will had a history with this woman. A sexy history, if Harper had to guess.
“This is only our second show,” Cal corrected politely, still smiling, still friendly.
But Monette’s eyes narrowed like those of a Siamese cat. Harper couldn’t say for sure, but she had the distinct impression this would be their last show. She was good at reading people, and the business manager looked like a man who, out of respect, wouldn’t date a woman who’d already infiltrated the Maverick Group once before.
Will beamed at Harper as though he was oblivious to the byplay. “Monette’s right. I’ve been remiss.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I should have been taking you out on the town instead of keeping you all to myself.” His eyes darkened as if he’d forgotten there were other people in the conversation as he added, “But I haven’t been able to help myself.”
All right, Will definitely wasn’t oblivious. But Harper stopped caring as her pulse raced and she couldn’t look away from him, couldn’t do anything but wish they were somewhere private so that he could strip her clothes off and make love to her. And she could make love to him, too.
