Part 8 (1/2)

”The Heights,” she said after a long sigh.

”If you're agreeable, I'll have my driver pick you up around seven-thirty.”

”I always prefer to drive myself so that I'm free to come and go as I choose.”

Her words were tacit agreement, but he was smart enough to realize he didn't have her. Yet. ”Of course. Keep in mind, April is at your disposal. Even if it's late, you'd be safe. And if you'd like a gla.s.s of wine, you wouldn't have to worry about driving. I'd be more comfortable.”

”What if I wanted you to pick me up?”

He recognized what she was doing. Showing her independence, an obligatory objection to ceding control to him. ”As if it were a date, rather than an introduction to my form of seduction?”

She caught her breath.

”If that makes you happy, Lara, I'd be delighted to pick you up.”

”I'll let you know what I decide.” She reached for her jacket. ”But I still may not come at all.”

He didn't argue. ”Let me help with that. Please.” His words were light. His tone was commanding. His expectation allowed no argument.

Responding as he'd hoped, she waited while he crossed the room, picked the jacket up and held it for her.

”Are you always so mannerly?” she asked as she turned back to face him.

”With my woman? Yes.”

”Your woman? Your woman?” Her voice held a touch of indignation and outrage, but the question had emerged shaky.

”That's what you want to be,” he reminded her. ”Isn't it?” He smoothed her lapels.

”No.” She shook her head.

”My wife? What do you think it means?” For a few moments, he let her think about it. Now, he saw, with the way she was rubbing her upper arms, realization was settling in. When she'd walked into his office, she'd obviously had an abstract idea of what she was proposing. Business had been her focus, and apparently it hadn't occurred to her that he'd expect something more.

He walked back to his desk, and she followed. He picked up her phone then dropped it back in her bag. He re-clasped it before returning it to her.

”Thank you. It's been memorable.”

”It has, indeed.” He went to the door and unlocked it. His hand on the k.n.o.b, he paused. ”And I won't forget I owe you a punishment.”

Her grip whitened on the bag.

”I'll be waiting to hear from you.” He opened the door and she walked past without another word.

Lara kept her composure until he'd closed the door behind her.

Then, realizing Thompson wasn't in the room, she exhaled raggedly and sank into a chair.

What the h.e.l.l had she been thinking in coming here, proposing to Connor Donovan when she knew nothing, nothing about him?

Even after he'd revealed that he was a Dominant, she'd stayed. Not only that, but she'd made things worse by following his soft-spoken commands. She'd all but invited his touch then she'd surrendered to his kiss.

Worse, she'd done it willingly. And she wanted to do it again.

If she were smarter, she'd get away and stay away.

She drew a breath. Last night, as insomnia had stalked her, Erin's words had seemed to play on an endless loop. Somewhere around midnight, Lara had started to consider the idea of marriage to Connor. For the next hour or two, she'd come up with a dozen reasons why that was a ridiculous idea, including her outrageous attraction to him. From the night she'd first met him, she'd recognized he was dangerous. Despite that, she'd been ensnared by his steely gray eyes.

Eventually, she'd fallen into a restless sleep. After dawn had awakened and she'd guzzled half a pot of coffee, she'd hit the shower. Thoughts of Connor hadn't been far away.

Then she'd received a copy of an email one of their attorneys had sent to her father. The woman had raised concerns regarding several clauses on a contract her father intended to sign. The news had startled Lara, though it shouldn't have. It was simply another in a string of decisions she disagreed with.

While she'd been dressing, she'd reached the inevitable conclusion. She did, indeed, need an ally on the board. A strong, powerful one. And Erin was right. Connor was brilliant. He had the financial resources and strategic thinking skills to help her out.

But was marriage the logical solution?

After breakfast, she'd pulled out a file containing BHI's legal doc.u.ments and realized there were only two ways to get him a seat on the board. One was through her father's invitation. She didn't see that happening. Family members, on the other hand, were automatically accorded a seat.

She'd spent hours thinking it through and had decided that a marriage of convenience would be a wise move for both of them. For her, especially.

There had been a definite spark between her and Connor the other night outside the elevator. She knew she hadn't imagined it. So she'd decided to exploit it.

Even though she hadn't worn those heels or that suit in months, she'd selected both. The skirt was a bit too tight, and a look in the mirror had shown her that it flaunted her b.u.t.tocks. Generally she didn't wear the outfit because it was a bit risque but, with Connor, that was exactly why she'd selected it.

She just hadn't expected his all-too-male reaction.

For the second time, she wondered what the h.e.l.l she'd gotten herself into.

Lara exhaled.

The outer door opened and Thompson entered the room. ”Is everything okay, Ms. Bertrand?” A ferocious line was buried between his eyebrows, making him appear scary.

She totally understood what Erin had been talking about. He was extremely large, and she had no problem imagining him in military garb. With his broad shoulders and jagged scar on his bald head, he looked to be equal measures protector and kick-a.s.s intimidator. That he was so refined in his mannerisms made her feel somewhat dis...o...b..bulated. ”I'm fine. Thank you.” She stood, wondering if the man had any idea what his boss was into. Had he been shocked when she'd locked the door?

Embarra.s.sment tore through her.

How often did something like that happen? How many women came to Connor's office long enough for him to seduce them? Was she one of many?

Reminding herself no one had the ability to dictate her emotional state, Lara squared her shoulders as an outward show of pulling herself back together. ”Thanks again for the coffee,” she said as she was leaving the room.

”My pleasure. Next time I'll have biscotti for you.”

”Sounds heavenly,” she replied. She closed the door, knowing she wouldn't be back.

Lara kept her focus as she waited for the elevator. She avoided eye contact with other occupants and kept her head back as she strode through the lobby.

At the main entrance, a woman took a step forward. ”Ms. Bertrand?”

”Yes?”