Want Me, Cowboy. Maisey Yates
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That worked for him.
“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” he said.
Poppy’s mouth dropped open and then snapped shut. “We’ve never even... We’ve never even kissed, Isaiah. We’ve never even almost kissed.”
“Yes. Because you’re my assistant.”
“Your assistant. And you’re my foster sister’s ex-fiancé.”
Isaiah gritted his teeth, an involuntary spike of anger elevating his blood pressure. Poppy knew better than to talk about Rosalind. And hell, she had nothing to do with Poppy. Not in his mind, not anymore.
Yes, she was the reason Poppy had come to work for him in the first place, but Poppy had been with him for so long her presence wasn’t connected with the other woman in any way.
He wasn’t heartbroken. He never had been, not really. He was angry. She’d made a fool of him. She’d caused him to take his focus off his business. She’d nearly destroyed not only his work, but his brother’s. And what would eventually be their sister’s too.
All of it, all the success they had now had nearly been taken out by his own idiocy. By the single time he’d allowed his heart to control him.
He would never do that again.
“Rosalind doesn’t have anything to do with this,” he said.
“She’s in my life,” Poppy pointed out.
“That’s a detail we can discuss later.” Or not at all. He didn’t see why they were coming close to discussing it now.
“You don’t want to marry me,” Poppy said.
“Are you questioning my decision-making, Poppy? How long have you known me? If there’s one thing I’m not, it’s an indecisive man. And I think you know that.”
“You’re a dick,” Poppy said in exasperation. “How dare you... Have me interviewing these women all day... And then... Is this some kind of sick test?”
“You threatened to quit. I don’t want you to quit. I would rather have you in all of my life than in none of my life.”
“I didn’t threaten to quit our friendship.”
“I mostly see you at work,” he said.
“And you value what I do at work more than what you get out of our friendship, is that it?”
That was another question he didn’t know how to answer. Because he had a feeling the honest answer would earn him a spiked heel to the forehead. “I’m not sure how the two are separate,” he said, thinking he was being quite diplomatic. “Considering we spend most of our time together at work, and my enjoyment of your company often dovetails with the fact that you’re so efficient.”
Poppy let out a howl that would not have been out of place coming from an enraged chipmunk. “You are... You are...”
Well, if her objection to the marriage was that they had never kissed, and never almost kissed, and he didn’t want to hear her talk anymore—and all those things were true—he could only see one solution to the entire situation.
He made his way over to where Poppy was standing like a brittle rose and wrapped his arms around her waist. He dragged her to him, holding her in place as he stared down at her.
“Consider this your almost-kiss,” he said.
Her brown eyes went wide, and she stared up at him, her soft lips falling open.
And then his heart was suddenly beating faster, the unsettled feeling in his gut transforming into something else. Heat. Desire. He had never looked at Poppy this way, ever.
And now he wondered if that had been deliberate. Now he wondered if he had been purposefully ignoring how beautiful she was because of all the reasons she had just mentioned for why they shouldn’t get married.
The fact she was his assistant. The fact that she was Rosalind’s foster sister.
“Isaiah...”
He moved one hand up to cup her cheek and brought his face down closer to hers. She smelled delicate, like flowers and uncertainty. And he found himself drawn to her even more.
“And this will be your kiss.”
He brought his lips down onto hers, expecting... He didn’t know what.
Usually, sexual attraction was a straightforward thing for him. That was one of the many things he liked about sex. There was no guesswork. It was honest. There was never anything shocking about it. If he saw a woman he thought was beautiful, he approached her. He never wondered if he would enjoy kissing her. Because he always wanted to kiss her before he did. But Poppy...
In the split second before their mouths touched, he wondered. Wondered what it would be like to kiss this woman he had known for so long. Who he had seen as essential to his life, but never as a sexual person.
And then, all his thoughts burned away. Because she tasted better than anything he could remember and her lips just felt right.
It felt equally right to slide his fingertips along the edge of her soft jawline and tilt her face up farther so he could angle his head in deep and gain access. It felt equally right to wrap both arms around her waist and press her body as tightly to his as he possibly could. To feel the soft swell of her breasts against his chest.
And he waited, for a moment, to see if she was going to stick her claws into him. To see if she was going to pull away or resist.
She did neither. Instead, she sighed, slowly, softly. Sweetly. She opened her mouth to his.
He took advantage of that, sliding his tongue between her lips and taking a taste.
He felt it, straight down to his cock, a lightning bolt of pleasure he’d had no idea was coming.
Suddenly, he was in the middle of a violent storm when only a moment ago the sky had been clear.
He had never experienced anything like it. The idea that Poppy—this woman who had been a constant in his world—was a hidden temptress rocked him down to his soul. He had no idea such a thing was possible.
In his world, chemistry had always been both straightforward and instant. That it could simply exist beneath the surface like this seemed impossible.
And yet, it appeared there was chemistry between himself and Poppy that had been dormant all this time.
Her soft hands were suddenly pressed against his face, holding on to him as she returned his kiss with surprising enthusiasm.
Her enthusiasm might be surprising, but he was damn well going to take advantage of it.
Because if chemistry was her concern, then he was more than happy to demolish her worry here and now.
He reversed their positions, turning so her back was to his desk, and then he walked her backward before sliding one arm beneath her ass and picking her up, depositing her on top of the desk. He bent down to continue kissing her, taking advantage of her shock to step between her legs.
Or maybe he wasn’t taking advantage of anything. Maybe none of this was calculated as he would like to pretend that it was. Maybe it was just necessary. Maybe now that their lips had touched there was just no going back.
And hell, why should they? If she couldn’t deny the chemistry between them... If it went to its natural conclusion...she had no reason to refuse his proposal.
He slid one hand down her thigh, toward her knee, and then lifted that leg, hooking it over his hip as he drew her forward and pressed himself against her.
Thank God for the fullness of her skirt, because it was easy to make a space for himself right there between her legs. He was so hard it hurt.
He was a thirty-six-year-old man who had a hell of a lot more self-control