Page 7 of Perfect Proposal
David laughs. Despite my urge to wrap my hands around his shoulders and shake him, he leans across the desk and slips his hand over mine. “You’re booked solid today. I have a few before I was planning on diving into the files you left on my desk. I’ll go get you a latte from Dean & DeLuca until Angie can run out at lunch for beans.”
My heart defrosts a little. “You spoil me.”
His face darkens before he pulls back. “Never enough. Give me a few and I’ll get you sorted out for the day.” With a wink he turns, saying over his shoulder, “You’ll lose all your clients if you’re not properly caffeinated.”
I wait until David is out of earshot before I bang my head on the gel wrist pad in front of my keyboard. “Stupid man. I just need you to love me enough to stay,” I whisper.
Knowing everything I do about what David has planned and realizing he’s idiotic enough to let masculine-riddled convention take over his incredibly brilliant mind and fill it with debasing crap that a man needs to be the provider for his family confirms that what I have planned for today is critical to the long-term success of our relationship.
“We are who we are, my love,” I whisper fiercely.
I want to race to the door and just cut loose, screaming we’ve evolved from prehistoric cavepeople. It’s our relationship, not the world’s. If we’re happy, then who the hell cares what outsiders think? But this way, I think smugly, will be so much better.
Then I snap back in my chair. “He’s so worried, he forgot to wish me a happy Valentine’s Day,” I say aloud. Bursting into gales of laughter, I wonder if I can sneak in a quick espresso before David comes back with the coffee I don’t need.
And before his first gift arrives.
Three
David
“Do you have a secret to share?” I read aloud on the card that accompanies wine-colored roses delivered by courier to Burke’s office. Narrowing my eyes, I cast them toward the closed door behind which negotiations for the newest metal band to hit the music scene since Mastodon are occurring. “Likely one of the people who want to know about who Burke’s writing the contract for. Not like it’s the first time.” I shake my head and toss the card to the desk, knowing there will be nothing but a disdainful curl of a full upper lip once it’s seen.
But later, much later. Because our schedule today is a block after block of blue with absolutely no wiggle room. Pulling up Burke’s schedule next to my own, all I see are back-to-back conference calls from now until the day ends at seven thirty. Groaning, hating how that delays my own plans for the night, I flop back in my chair in the outer office. There’s no way I can walk in there to deliver a bunch of roses, no matter how beautiful they are. “Should have thought of something like this myself,” I mutter aloud. It might have made tonight’s news a bit easier to swallow.
“Did you say something, David?” Her slim hand smooths over my shoulder.
“Shit.” I shoot to my feet, my chair flying to one side.
Carys’s aqua-colored eyes are almost amused. She makes a tsking sound. “Such language. What would a client think if they walked in?”
Since Carys Burke has a talent for melting the hearts of the scariest bad boys of rock who have walked through her door for legal advice, I just smirk. “Probably that I’m a choirboy.”
Her golden eyebrows wing upward before she leans into me and presses her breasts into my back before whispering, “Well, we both know better than that, don’t we?”
My mouth falls open. It must be because it’s Valentine’s Day because Carys is never this forward in the office during work hours. Ever. Since that wild night on her office floor when I gave in to my base Neanderthal tendencies, I’ve tried to be as circumspect as possible. Otherwise, I’d have her against every flat surface every chance I got, the wild attraction that started between us three years ago getting stronger with every minute of every day. But here, she’s the boss, and I remain her most trusted employee. It’s a relationship that’s worked for us until I realized I wanted to give her everything.
But, after tonight? I don’t know what’s going to happen, and it’s churning my stomach every time she steps out of her inner sanctum. I straighten my chair and fall back into it, moving her back slightly.
“Oh, what beautiful roses.” She admires the flowers on my desk. Leaning forward, she buries her nose in the fragrant blooms, but the only thing I can smell is her. After all, I know where she dabbed her perfume this morning—just a touch behind each ear, behind her knees, and right over each pelvic bone.
But that’s not it.
My heart thumps madly against my chest when she shifts and I realize what I’m smelling is her scent, that tantalizing smell I’m normally blessed with when I lay her back on our bed and I’m pushing my head between her trim thighs. Carys is immensely turned on.
I press slightly closer to her luscious ass as she leans over for the card I casually discarded before. “What makes you so sure these are for me?” Her eyes pin me to my seat as they narrow on me in contemplation. “Hmm?”
I clear my throat. Right. Work time. “I assumed they had to do with someone honing in about Erzulie deciding to use you as representation.”
Much as I, myself, did, Carys flicks the card from her hand. “If you think so.”
Perplexed, I wonder aloud, “What else could it be?”
“I don’t know, David. You tell me. Is there anything else I need to know about?”
Now, that’s a question that will get you in trouble with any lawyer. Knowing I’m dealing with my boss and not my lover, I answer honestly, “Not that I’m aware of.”
Luckily, the phone rings, interrupting us. “Carys Burke,” I answer. I can’t prevent the curl of my lip when Carys’s ex-boyfriend—who happens to be one of her biggest clients—interrupts our conversation.
