Page 39 of His Weekend Wife

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Ash stepped from the sidewalk and into the backseat of the awaiting car as the driver shut the door. Declan had phoned and told her he was held up in a meeting so he’d send a car to pick her up. She offered to take a cab, but he insisted she be picked up. Sitting here now, in the leather seat that was as soft as a baby’s bottom instead of in the back of a stinky cab, she couldn’t complain. She eased into the comfort and watched through the window, but seeing nothing. Her nerves were in a bundle at the knowledge that she’d be seeing Declan soon.

They were in the middle of rush hour traffic, bumper to bumper, so she wouldn’t be seeing him as soon as she’d anticipated.

The driver turned down a side street and she relaxed, not worrying about the traffic or the sounds of horns beeping.

When they finally stopped in front of the huge, twenty-story building made of all glass and steel, she waited for the driver to open the door and then she swept out, pulling the hem down to the red dress. Out of nervous habit, she swept her palms down the material to ease out a few wrinkles. She noticed that several men craned their neck watching her as she walked into the enormous lobby that looked like an interior replica of the outside of the building—all glass and steel.

Behind the large desk sat a very beautiful, elegantly dressed young woman who gave Ash a pleasant smile. “May I help you?”

“I’m here to see Mr. Knight. He’s expecting me. Ash—”

“Yes, Mrs. Knight. If you will, take the elevator to the top floor.” Her smile broadened and her eyes dazzled.

Ash scooped the loose tendrils from her cheek and pushed them back into her chignon as she made her way across the polished floor to the row of glass elevators. She looked back and the receptionist was still watching. Was she wondering how in the hell had a woman like her nailed a man like Declan? The dress she wore was elegant and the shoes were expensive, but Ash was afraid people could see straight through her into her lack of confidence.

Once she was in the elevator, she was grateful for a moment to gain herself before facing more people. I don’t fit in here.

The doors opened on the twelfth floor and two men stepped into the cubicle wearing well-cut suits and slicked back hair. They each greeted her with a smile as she slid to the corner, giving them plenty of room. While they talked about statistics and numbers, she inwardly sighed.

Two floors up, the doors opened and she was alone again. But the elevator seemed to increase in speed as it whisked her to the twentieth floor. She didn’t move and the doors started to slide shut, but she stepped forward and caught them. Wake up, woman.

Stepping out into another elaborate, but less intimidating, lobby, she made her way to the desk where this time a gorgeous brunette greeted her with more of a monotone expression. She stood and Ash couldn’t help but admire her attire—an impeccable white blouse and skin tight black skirt that left little to the imagination of her thin, well-shaped body. Not a hair was out of place on her. Ash was beginning to wonder if that was part of the job description.

“Mrs. Knight. Nice to meet you.” The brunette stuck out a neatly manicured hand. “I’m Marabeth, Mr. Knight’s secretary—one of them, at least.”

Ash shook the woman’s hand, very aware of how soft it was. “Thank you. It’s a pleasure meeting you.”

“Come right this way, please. I’ll show you to your husband’s office.”

She followed the brunette past the spacious sitting area filled with a brown suede sofa and matching chairs.

Marabeth pushed open a wide door and motioned for Ash to enter. She made her way into Declan’s office. He was standing by his desk and she took in his matching elegant attire—a pin-striped gray suit that made him appear much taller than six foot. His hair was slicked back, unlike the unruly style he’d worn yesterday. She guessed it was a prerequisite here that everyone looked like they’d just stepped out of Vogue. She missed his wild hair and wanted to mess it with her fingers. Would he object?

“You’re here. I’m sorry I couldn’t come and get you. It’s been crazy.” He pushed away from the desk, his gaze making a heated line down her body that was already trembling. Her knees weakened slightly as he approached her, and as natural as the sun rising and falling, he pulled her in for a quick kiss on the lips.

“You’re absolutely beautiful, bella,” he whispered next to her ear then pulled away, slightly. “Do you forgive me for not coming to get you myself?”

“Yes, it’s fine. The driver got us here safe and sound.”

“I’m glad you wore the red dress. I’ve thought of nothing else but this all day.” He smiled.

Her cheeks turned a pretty pink. “You did request the dress.”

“And I like the hair. Pulled up shows off your neck.”

“Thank you.”

“Give me a minute. I need to make one more business call and then I’ll be ready.”

“Okay.”

He went to his desk and picked up the phone, she barely heard his conversation while she surveyed his office. So, this is Declan Knight’s office? Just like in the lobby, the space was decorated with dark suede furniture, floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the city. The white walls were covered in an arrangement of paintings that seemed to diverge from the elegant feel. She was staring at the grouping and didn’t hear him come up behind her, so when he touched her shoulder she jumped.

“Do you like the paintings?” he asked.

“They’re lovely.”

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