The Dare Collection: August 2018. Avril Tremayne
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around his chest to avoid New Caleb’s cool, disinterested expression. “Tomorrow is an important day for me. So I need you not to...” I paused, a little annoyed with myself for needing to utter the words.
“It would help if you actually complete the sentence?”
The mild mockery lacing the words made me forget not to look into his face. His eyes weren’t disinterested. They were neutral. Enough to make that odd little band around my chest tighten.
To hell with this. “Stop flirting with my assistant,” I snapped.
He sat back in his seat, his eyes narrowing. “Why?”
“Excuse me?”
“What do you care who I flirt with?” he drawled.
“You’re supposed to be a professional. Do I really need to point this out to you?”
He gave a careless shrug.
“Fine. Your...attention hasn’t impacted her work. Yet. But—”
“You’re worried she’s becoming preoccupied with getting into my pants and you have a problem with that?” The words were delivered with a little more of that zing I was used to.
Hot little fires began licking through my veins, sparking electricity that engulfed my breasts, stung between my legs. “I only have a problem with how it pertains to my work. She needs to be on her A-game for tomorrow. So, yes, I’d be grateful if you’d dial down the low-voiced charm, and all that smiling.”
The smile I’d just denigrated lit up his face. It was slow and deadly. It was also so drop-dead magnificent that I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything other than absorb it. Bask in it and God help me, grow intensely, claws-out possessive over Caleb smiling at another woman like that. And right in that moment of admitting that I was mindlessly attracted to him, I wanted to die.
Especially when that smile turned stupidly smug.
“Why, Lily, if I didn’t know any better, I would think you were jealous.”
Caleb
I WATCHED HER stalk to the front door, her body stiff with outrage.
My smile dimmed as my gaze swept feverishly over her, greedily taking one of the few long glances I’d been reduced to stealing all week. A part of me remained pissed off that she’d put the brakes on what had seemed like a slam-dunk acceptance of the green light I gave her.
Hell, three insanely hot make-out sessions in twenty-four hours was a record, even for me, although that first time in the restaurant had been a simple exercise in taking her down a peg or two, but had quickly escalated into something mildly earthshaking.
Okay, nothing about what happened between us could be classified under mild. I would’ve fucked her in broad daylight in the front seat of my SUV if one of us hadn’t come to our senses.
Still. The part I was having a hard time dealing with was how hard it’d been to stick to my own rules this week. I’d spent more than a few sleepless nights reliving Lily’s taste, enduring a raging—pun intended—storm in my cock I was yet to get under full control.
As I watched her stab the code to turn off the alarm, though, I couldn’t help my gratification at this latest revelation.
“I’m not jealous,” she denied hotly as if she’d read my thoughts.
I shut the front door and slid home the dead bolt. “Really? You’re sure acting like it.”
Her grip tightened on the satchel she never left home without. “Of course you would think that.”
I strolled over to her. “I did wonder why you felt the need to instruct Miranda to come in on time tomorrow when she’s never been late.”
“And how would you know that?” she challenged huffily.
I cracked a little smile, watched her eyes drop to my mouth before she averted her gaze. The slow, torturous burn in my loins intensified. The wall I’d deliberately erected between us to help honor her wishes crumbled a little. I was tempted to give it a healthy kick, but deep down I knew she was right to want to keep things professional between us.
Besides, I wasn’t sure I wanted to test my control just yet. Lily was as sensational as I imagined she would be. And that was with barely a taste.
“I know how to get the information I need,” I answered her question.
Her eyes narrowed. “Was that what you were doing tonight? Gathering information?”
I shrugged. “Sometimes it’s best to use honey, not vinegar.”
She nodded and turned toward the stairs.
“Are you going to bed?”
Her eyes met mine for a second before she looked away, the pulse at her throat picking up speed. She let go of the satchel to drag her fingers through her hair. At some point this week, she’d repainted her short nails a dark purple shade that looked almost black. Something about the way it contrasted against her shock-white blond hair raised my temperature.
“No. I was thinking of going for a swim. I need the exercise to...de-stress a little.”
Fuck, I had a dozen positions in mind to help her de-stress. And that was for starters. I forced the lid back on my runaway libido. “You nervous about tomorrow?” I asked.
She knew I was asking about Chance and tensed for a moment, and then she deliberately avoided the subject. “I shouldn’t be. The code is working perfectly. But...” She shrugged.
I’d been looking into Chance Donovan and had a few thoughts on the bastard CEO. But I didn’t want to add to her stress.
So, even though Lily in a sexy swimsuit and within touching distance was so not a good idea, I jerked my head toward the stairs anyway. “Go get changed. I’ll meet you in the living room.”
“Thanks,” she said, looking relieved that I’d let the matter drop.
I stayed at the bottom of the stairs, unable to take my eyes off her perfect ass as she sprinted upstairs. Yeah, I was a glutton for punishment.
That punishment increased a hundredfold the moment she entered the living room. My hand froze on the French doors, and I swallowed hard.
She was wearing a see-through black mesh T-shirt over a burnt-orange bikini. Two things struck me hard just then. First, that while her signature black suited her alabaster complexion, the dark orange was even more flattering, drawing attention to her pint-size perfection.
Second, that the wall I’d built to contain my insane attraction and strict rules didn’t stand a chance of staying up.
“Everything okay?” she asked, her eyes a little wide as she took in the joggers and T-shirt I’d changed into.
Fuck, no. “Sure.” I held the door open for her.
She walked past me, trailing light, sensual perfume that made me want to bury my face in her neck. Her back view was just as spectacular as her front, the tight globes of her ass barely contained in the bikini bottom.
A dangerously high percentage of blood rushed south, emptying my head of every thought except the one that fixated on what I wanted to do to her body. “How long do you need?” I croaked, dropping onto the lounger and hitching up one leg before she turned and saw the steel rod tenting my pants.
She paused at the edge of the pool and glanced over her shoulder. The setting sun’s rays worshipped her cheek, her arms, her stomach and thighs. “I normally swim a hundred laps. So...forty-five minutes?” she murmured.
“Yeah. Fine.” Wow, you’ll be drooling like a brain-dead idiot