CEO's Marriage Seduction / His Style of Seduction. Anna DePalo
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by him. “Griffin, be serious.”
“I am,” he said, blocking her with his arm when she was very close.
She looked up at him mutely.
“Why don’t we kiss and put it to the test?”
A flash of alarm crossed her face.
“I don’t think—”
“That’s right, don’t think,” he parried.
And before she could say anything more, he swept her into his arms.
Six
Any hope she’d had that she could chalk up last week’s embrace as an aberration was vaporized by the heat of their kiss.
It sizzled along her nerve endings, danced along the surface of her skin and pooled as throbbing need between her legs.
Griffin cupped the back of her head, slanted his mouth and deepened the kiss, giving her his tongue.
Rock-hard planes pressed against her, and his mouth tasted of wine and man.
It was like being consumed, Eva thought dimly. Unwrapped, exposed and thoroughly enjoyed.
She moaned low in her throat…and a moment later heard a whistle of encouragement.
Abruptly she was brought back to earth.
She pushed Griffin away, and her gaze landed on the amused expressions of two of the waitstaff.
Clearly she and Griffin had been providing some free entertainment.
She compressed her lips. She should be setting an example for her employees, not engaging in teenage antics.
She touched Griffin’s arm and said tightly, “Come with me.”
She knew there was a study across the hall from the kitchen, and it was likely empty since the party was taking place mostly outside.
She led the way, and once inside, she shut the door behind them.
Table lamps cast a warm yellow glow, lighting a room done in dark hues, from the maroon leather chair to the gray sofa facing the fireplace.
She faced Griffin. “So is today’s performance your coda to a carefully constructed plan to ruin my life?”
He raised his eyebrows, his expression mild.
She started counting off on her fingers. “Let’s see. Last week, you informed me that my fiancé was cheating on me. This week, you grab me for an adolescent tussle in front of my employees.”
He had the indecency to let his lips to twitch.
“I needed to grab your attention,” he said. “I succeeded.”
She ignored the flutter in her stomach. “I have options, you know.”
So what if she sounded defensive? This whole conversation was ridiculous. She couldn’t believe she was even discussing the topic of conceiving a child with Griffin Slater.
Except his proposition was so ludicrous, she was having a hard time coming up with a sane way to refute it. So instead of addressing the sticky issues—such as their complete incompatibility—she went for the straightforward one.
She regarded him coolly. “It’s possible to just buy a vial of sperm over the Internet these days. Why do I need you when I’m capable of getting pregnant on my own?”
He eyed her. “Do you really want to be a single parent?”
What she really wanted was to be loved for herself, she thought, but squelched the wayward thought. “I could have my eggs frozen until I met someone.”
“Egg freezing technology is still experimental. Besides, you could be waiting years to be a parent.”
She was surprised he knew about egg freezing, but she supposed he’d read a news report somewhere.
“I’d be a father to your child. To our child,” he continued. “Today. Tomorrow.”
Damn him. He was holding out everything she wanted on a silver platter. Well, almost everything.
Her silly heart ached, and she automatically sought to protect it. It had been getting a pounding recently.
“What’s in this for you?” she asked suspiciously.
“With any luck, I’ll get a child—a child who will one day inherit Tremont REH.”
She frowned. “How are you any different from Carter then? He had ulterior motives that involved getting his hands on Tremont REH money and so do you.”
He looked as if she’d insulted him. “In the first place, I’m being up-front with you. Our marriage would have advantages for both of us. Secondly, I don’t want Tremont REH for myself.” He shrugged. “But I’d be happy if a child of ours inherited that legacy.”
She was surprised he didn’t claim he was entitled to get his hands on Tremont REH by virtue of his having contributed to its success, and grudgingly conceded it was a point in his favor.
At the same time, she knew she had to get away now, because her abused heart just couldn’t take any more.
She’d spent her whole life trying to create an identity for herself apart from being the Tremont heiress—real estate mogul Marcus Tremont’s daughter. It had been a futile effort, but she hated the way it always caught up with her—particularly now.
She reached for the doorknob. “I need to get back.”
Griffin stepped forward, his gaze intent. “Eva—”
Just then, however, the door was pushed open, and she took a step back, her hand falling away from the knob.
One of her employees, dressed as a 1930s-era doctor, complete with head mirror and suspenders, appeared in the doorway.
“Here you are!” he said. “We’ve all been looking for you! Sue wants to know where Beth Harding’s spare freezer is located.”
She chanced one more look at Griffin. “I’ve got to go.”
Then she ducked out of the room.
She wasn’t fleeing…or so she tried to convince herself.
“He what?” Beth Harding asked.
“He proposed to me,” Eva repeated. Saying the words made them only slightly more real.
She leaned back against the cushions of her couch and set her coffee cup down on the end table. She was still in her pajamas, having allowed herself the luxury of sleeping in after having worked at the Hardings’ party.
Beth laughed. “Well that was quick work. Last week, he got rid of your fiancé and this week he proposes to you himself!”
“In a sense.”
She’d filled in Beth about Carter’s deceit and Griffin’s role in bringing it to her attention. She’d left out the kiss with Griffin at her apartment because, she told herself, she’d chalked it up as an aberration.
But there was no way to chalk up a proposal as an anomaly or a figment of her imagination—though she’d tried last night. If she’d been successful, she’d have been able to dismiss the strange temptations she was feeling.
And when Beth had phoned this morning to discuss how the party had gone, she couldn’t help but tell her friend about the real entertainment last night.
“I’ll say this for him,” Beth said. “He’s slow out of the gate, but he sure knows how to make up for lost time. He’s known you, what? Ten years?”
“Has it been that long?” she responded.
“So what are you going to do?” Beth asked.
“Are