Page 51 of Dr. CEO (The Doctors)

“But for now, I’m your boss and…things are complicated.” I don’t elaborate. I don’t tell her I can’t offer her anything more than here and now. That I’m not the kind of man who makes promises about the future. Or even considers a future outside of my work. She’s not asking those questions.

“Don’t overthink this.”

I chuckle, because that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. “I’ve been wanting to ask you to dinner.”

“Like a date?” she asks, beaming up at me.

“Yeah. I have a friend in Cambridge who opened his own restaurant. It got its first Michelin star this year.”

Her smile withers, her gaze hits my chest and she freezes.

What changed so suddenly?

“Could we have dinner closer to home?” she mumbles.

“What?” I laugh. “At the Golden Hare?”

She looks up, pain in her eyes. She was serious. And I’m an insensitive asshole.

“If that’s where you want to go, that’s where I want to take you.”

“You know I’m not myself when I go too far away from home.”

How could I have forgotten? “Leave it to me,” I say. “I’ll make sure our first date is on the grounds.”

She relaxes again and the smile creeps back. I thread my fingers into her hair, bend, and sweep my lips over hers. Her hands slide over my shoulders and I take a deep breath, savoring the moment, committing it to memory. I circle my other hand around her waist and pull her against me. I’ve been thinking about this for so long and now it’s here. She’s here. She’s in my arms, right where I’ve wanted her for weeks now. The feel of her hands on me and the way my skin warms under her touch, the way she fits against my body… It just feels right.

She lifts up onto her toes and takes over the kiss. At first it’s small and chaste and perfect. Then she opens her mouth and I can’t help but groan at the invitation to more.

How did I get so lucky?

Our tongues press and breaths mix, our bodies so close but not close enough. Her skin is so smooth, so soft, so delicate, and as my stubble grazes it, I have a primal desire to leave a mark so she never forgets how good this feels.

Her hands roam my body, up my back, across my shoulders and then down my waist to my belt. Her fingers hook onto the leather as if trying to find a way in.

I break our kiss and step away.

She freezes and looks at me like I just punched her. “What?” she asks.

Why did I stop things? I want her. She clearly wants me. Why am I holding back?

“I want to take you to dinner,” I say.

“Great,” she says like I just asked her to print off a copy of the rug quote. “Can we get naked already?”

“Here?” I ask and glance up and around.

“Are you shy?” She glances up at the dramatic chandelier above us. “Or romantic? You prefer candlelight and Bach playing softly in the background?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been accused of being romantic.” I don’t add the silent “but” echoing in my head.

“Your bedroom?” she suggests.

What’s been building between us hasn’t moved for so long and now it’s going too fast. I want to slow it all down and figure things out. She steps forward and burrows her finger between the buttons of my shirt, finding my skin and adding fuel to the fuse of my desire for her.

“Kate,” I growl.

She tilts her head. “Or here?” She takes a step back and slides onto her desk.

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