Page 15 of Business Temptations

But he didn’t have time to contemplate that part of her anatomy, nor should he be looking anyway!

Friends, he reminded himself. They were just friends.

Why was it becoming more difficult to remember that fact lately?

Bailey opened her red velvet clutch purse and dropped the tube of red lipstick into it. But her real purpose was to give herself a moment of breathing space. Matteo looked…magnificent! His broad shoulders were encased in the Armani tuxedo, and he was wearing the gold cufflinks she’d bought him for his birthday last year. His bow tie was perfect and she silently cursed the man’s ability to tie a bow tie so accurately. Wouldn’t it be nice to walk up to him and have a reason to touch him? If he weren’t so perfectly attired, she could adjust his bow tie, using the excuse that it was askew. Then she could let her fingers linger, maybe even slide down over his chest. Her fingers ached to touch him, to discover what all of those muscles underneath his tuxedo felt like.

Just friends, she reminded herself. That was probably the hundredth reminder today. After last night’s erotic dreams, it had been a challenge to work with him and not blush. Her mind had definitely forgotten that Matteo was a friend and not a potential lover!

“I’m ready,” she replied and turned around. He was doing that jaw-clenching thing again. Why? What had she done? “Am I late?” Bailey glanced at her watch, then back up at him. “I’m actually right on time. What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing,” he replied, then angled his arm, offering her his elbow. “Let’s get this over with.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re the one who insisted that you, me, and Tim all needed to attend this thing.”

He grumbled, then nodded. “I know. And it will be fine. Levi and Sean are attending tonight’s fundraiser as well.”

“Ooh! Did Sean and Kennedi bring Declan with them this time?”

He gave her a sexy half smile as he led her down the hallway. “They always bring Declan with them wherever they go,” he replied, amusement lacing his voice. “The scamp has both of his parents wrapped around his little finger.”

“He’s what, two years old now?”

“Just over. We sent them a set of toys for his birthday two months ago, remember?”

She grinned, thinking of the adorable little man. “Right. I wonder if he’s old enough to play with the games yet.”

“He’s a bright little thing,” Matteo replied. “I’m sure that he’s probably mastered them and has moved back to racing Doxy, their new German shepherd, around the house again.”

She laughed as he reached out to press the call button for the elevator. It was a private elevator, reserved just for the two of them, so the doors opened almost immediately to allow them to step in. They chatted comfortably on the way down to the lobby. Just outside of their building, the limousine driver waited at the curb, the door to the limousine open so they merely needed to duck inside the warm interior.

Ten minutes later, the driver pulled up outside of the hotel. “Why can’t we drive around to the side and sneak into the gala?” Bailey grumbled as she peered at the waiting paparazzi.

He chuckled and stepped out, then bent to take her hand and help her out of the limousine. When they stood on the red carpet, he leaned in and whispered into her ear, “Remember, we like the publicity,” he reminded her. “It’s good for business.”

She hmphed and pulled his head back down. “The paparazzi like you, not me! So this isn’t about publicity for the company. This is about finding your next mistress.”

A moment later, she turned and smiled, waving slightly as the flash of white lights nearly blinded her. She was aware of Matteo next to her, but she couldn’t see for several moments. Bailey could feel Matteo’s tight muscles, but she wasn’t sure why he was so tense all of a sudden. He’d been teasing her only moments before.

Still, she walked down the red carpet, smiling at the photographers even though she knew that they were more interested in Matteo.

They were shouting questions to both of them, but one voice rose up above the others. “Are you going to let the Martazen government buy the patent for your fuel additive?” Bailey heard the question, but wasn’t sure what it meant. Why in the world would the Martazen government try to buy the patent? That was out of the question and…and where had that bit of gossip come from?

Bailey kept on walking and smiling, holding onto Matteo’s arm. But she felt his tension increase as well. Had he heard the odd question? She wanted to ask him about it, but knew that this wasn’t the place for such a conversation.

Thankfully, there were plenty of other questions, mostly directed towards Matteo, so that one, weird question went unheard by the rest of the paparazzi cluster. Most of them wanted to know about his latest mistress and if he was upset that she was publishing a new book. Matteo leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Let’s walk faster.”

She smiled and nodded up at him, ignoring the newest round of questions about their relationship. “Bailey - are you romantically involved with your chief scientist?” “Are you having an affair with your illegitimate partner?” “Does Señor del Campo’s father approve of your lifestyle?” And so many more questions were lobbed towards them.

Normally, when she and Matteo arrived at some function, the questions were more benign. So tonight’s odd, shouted questions concerned Bailey, although she held her concerns until they were inside the hotel.

“What the hell?” Matteo whispered into her ear.

She knew exactly what he meant. “That’s the first time I recall a reporter asking about your father.”

He glanced at her, startled. “I was thinking that the question about the Martazan faction might become a problem. They call themselves a government, but they are nothing more than a loosely knit militia that the Spanish government is struggling to control.” He sighed heavily. “Unfortunately, my father is part of that faction. I’ve heard that they are organizing others to join them.” He put a hand to the small of her back, leading her towards the ballroom doors. The gala was already in full swing. The guests were enjoying roving waiters with trays filled with sparkling flutes of champagne, which was lifting everyone’s moods.

“We haven’t had any discussions with your father or the Martazan people. Why would we? And why would a reporter ask us about it, other than because your father is involved,” she whispered back.

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