Bachelor Boss. Christie Ridgway
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he realized he was smiling again. Relaxed. She took a breath and he took advantage of the brief moment of quiet. “Lucy, I’m…”
“Feeling better?”
His head jerked her way. Her gaze was on him, her eyes big. Empathetic.
She knew.
She’d known he was close to losing it back there in Germaine’s living room.
It was as embarrassing as hell to realize, but now it was clear that Lucy had intentionally come to his rescue. By stepping in with her sassy attitude and smart remarks, Lucy had given him the time and the distraction necessary to compose himself. Germaine hadn’t needed him dumping his sorrow on top of her own.
Lucy had made sure he didn’t.
“Lucy…” He was at a loss for words, still embarrassed that she’d read him so easily. Swallowing, he tried again. “You…”
She sent him that bright brat smile and fiddled with the hem of her too-short dress. “Look great in a pair of handkerchiefs, right?”
His gaze fell to her half-naked legs, then jumped back to the impish curve of her bright berry mouth. His blood rushed south and he felt that recognizable tightness at his groin. Of course, it couldn’t be because of Lucy and how good she smelled and how delectable she looked in that dress. She was an old family friend, so it wasn’t—
Oh, fine. What the hell. Why deny it? He was a man, with all the normal male responses. The truth was, old family friend or not, Lucy Sutton turned him on.
The admission sent his cop instincts hog wild again. This time they had another loud-and-clear message. Be careful, they told him. Be very careful.
She was still the little sister of some of his best friends, Elise and the sisters’ brothers, Jason and Sam.
The Suttons and the Milanos had been connected for years and would continue to be connected for years to come.
So don’t risk introducing awkwardness into the mix.
So don’t risk getting too close to a woman who’d already shown herself adept at understanding his moods.
He took another breath of her sweet, feminine perfume. Yeah, Milano, don’t risk getting too close. Because of the two people sitting in the butter leather seats of his Lexus, he had the sudden premonition that the one most likely to get into trouble tonight was him.
Chapter Three
Carlo Milano was wrong about a lot of things, Lucy decided, as they entered the Street Beat party. One, the music wasn’t too loud, and two, judging by what other women were wearing who were in attendance, there was nothing unusual about her cocktail attire.
“Fuddy-duddy,” she muttered to herself.
He leaned closer. “What?”
She glanced up. Okay, he didn’t look like a fuddy-duddy, not with those incredible dark lashes surrounding his incredible dark eyes, and not with the way his wide shoulders filled out his casual linen jacket. And she wasn’t the only one to have noticed his dearth of duddiness, either. She’d seen it in the eyes of other women they’d passed, and now, good Lord, now there was a tall, statuesque brunette wearing a slinky animal print sliding out of the crowd to close in on them like a leopard scenting a tasty meal.
The feline woman was still two dozen feet away when she called out the name of her prey. “Carlo!”
Lucy couldn’t help it, she stepped closer to him. Her hip brushed his groin, and she all at once recalled her plan for the evening. Not sticking close to Carlo. Not fostering dreams that couldn’t be.
Remember? She was a single, sophisticated woman at a party. A single, sophisticated woman who should be looking for other single sophisticates, but of the masculine variety. Clearing her throat, she ignored the approaching woman and started edging away from Carlo’s body. “I think I’ll go—”
“Stay,” he said against her ear. It felt more like a kiss than a command and she froze, making it easy for him to hook two fingers into the waistline at the back of her dress. She felt his knuckles press against her naked skin.
“Carlo—”
“I’ll give you a raise if you’ll just play along.”
There wasn’t any more time to protest. The brunette appeared before them on a waft of Chanel No. 5. “Mr. Milano,” she said in a scolding voice. “This is beyond fashionably late.”
Then the woman moved in for the kill—uh, greeting—and Lucy tried to edge away again. Carlo’s fingers curled tighter on her dress, though, plastering her as snugly against him as a “Hi, My Name Is” sticker.
The action forced the other woman to settle for an air kiss in the vicinity of his chin. Then she gave Lucy a cursory glance. “I’m Claudia Cox,” she said, holding out her hand even as her gaze returned to Carlo. “So… Who’s your little friend?”
Lucy gritted her teeth and gave a little handshake as Carlo answered. “This is Lucy Sutton. She’s just back in town from Phoenix.”
Claudia flicked another glance in her direction. “Really? I thought you were seeing Tamara.”
His hand slipped out of Lucy’s dress to slide around her waist and then press possessively against her hip bone. She tried to look as if her knees were melting—for Claudia’s benefit—without standing as if her knees were really melting—for Carlo’s.
“I’m with Lucy now.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and her scalp prickled from crown to nape.
“Lucky Lucy,” Claudia commented, wearing a thin smile.
Lucy thought it was time to chime in and prove to them all she still had a voice. “That’s just what I say to myself every time I hear this man say my name. It’s nice to meet you, Claudia.” Then she entwined her fingers with those of Carlo’s that were wrapped at her hip and tried to subtly peel them off before her dress started to smolder.
His touch made her just that hot.
Carlo allowed their joined hands to fall to her side, but stroked hers with a caressing thumb when Claudia’s gaze dropped to their fingers.
“We need to set up a meeting,” the other woman told Carlo, her voice a bit sharp, “since it doesn’t look as if you’re prepared to talk business tonight.”
Behind her, Lucy felt Carlo straighten. His thumb stopped its distracting movement. “What’s up, Claudia?”
The other woman looked at Lucy. “Do you mind…?”
“Oh, no,” she said, taking the hint. “I’ll just go over to the bar and leave you two alone—”
“Sweetheart, you know I don’t like you out of my sight.” Carlo’s fingers squeezed hers. Tight.
Lucy swallowed her wince. “Isn’t he cute?” she said to Claudia, then looked up at her date. “Darling, I won’t go far.”
“Baby, I don’t think so.” His hand gave hers another warning squeeze. “Stay with me.”
Baby? That’s what she was supposed to be proving she wasn’t tonight. And she knew he was a boy big enough to handle leopard lady and whatever the heck she wanted to discuss in private.
Lucy beamed Carlo a sickly smile. “Handsome, Claudia wants to talk about business, and you know how little me gets so sleepy when talk turns to numbers and such.”
Of course, that was uncomfortably close to the truth. And uncomfortably terrible for someone who’d graduated with honors and an accounting degree to admit.
Claudia shook her head, apparently impatient with them both. “It’s not about numbers. I only wanted to let you know that I’ve okayed a parents group from