Addison nodded. “Okay, then I’ll see you tonight. Should I meet you at the restaurant?”
“No, I’ll pick you up in the limo.”
“Really?” she asked, and it was worth it just to see the actual surprise and joy in her eyes.
I can be your Prince Charming, Miss Morgan.
***
She wasn’t sure what she was doing. No, scratch that. Addison knew exactly what she was doing. She was giving in to her temptations. Ever since that fateful night at the costume party at Club Rouge, she’d gone to sleep dreaming of Sheikh Amun’s tongue laving at her body, of his lips suckling at her precious pearl. She desperately wanted to feel that again, but now they were working together, and he didn’t know she’d been his kitten. At least if he did, then Sheikh Amun was playing everything so close to the vest that she’d never be sure on her own. The smart thing would have been to say no to his job offer and then force herself to take on the bank teller job that William was trying to swing for her. But that wasn’t what she wanted. She’d spent almost a year denying her id. First, it was working at a job that she hated and had nothing to do with fashion design. But it had been more than that. She never even went out to have fun with her brother or her few friends during those eight months. Addison had lived in terror of disappointing her boss, and she had been especially afraid of being too tired the morning after going out to do her job correctly.
She’d put anything her heart would have desired into a deep, dark box and worked hard not to think about it for months.
And frankly, she was tired of living that way.
So that was the reason she’d said yes to Sheikh Amun’s offer, even if every bit of common sense screamed that the last thing she should be doing was having a night on the town with her boss, especially when Sheikh Amun’s reputation preceded him. Of course, her mind would also reassure her that maybe she was assuming too much. After all, he was one of the wealthiest and most eligible bachelors on the planet. If this weren’t actually about making her feel comfortable at work but trying to seduce her, then that seemed oddly illogical. He could have any woman he desired and then some. She was just Addison Morgan, hopeless in debt and far curvier than she should have been.
Maybe it really was just about getting to know each other, which was far more consideration than she ever got from Mr. McDermott.
That circling trail of logic was playing in her mind as she stood outside her apartment complex. He’d promised to pick her up, and sure enough a limo pulled up in front of her. He stepped out, looking nothing short of delicious in a tailored suit that hugged his masculine frame well, showing off the muscular chest underneath its silk.
Sheikh Amun offered her a devastating smile, his teeth glinting in the streetlights. “Well, Miss Morgan, you look fetching.”
She felt her cheeks flush with her eagerness and also with her embarrassment. She might not make it through the night if his charms reduced her to a puddle on the pavement right now.
“You don’t have to get my door,” she said, unsure if she should bow to the sheikh. He was her boss, and she just felt bad he’d even gotten out of the limo for her.
“I would love to get it. I said I wanted to make tonight relaxing, give you a way to feel yourself around me. And part of me being myself is also trying to be a gentleman. I’m sure my sister, Fairuza, would have a lot to say about all of this. However, I have been known to open doors for lucky ladies on occasion,” he said, leading her to the other side of the car and then opening the door for her. “It’s the least I could do.”
“Actually,” she countered, “the least you could do w
as leave me to do it myself.” Addison highlighted her point by giggling a little and winking at him. “But this is appreciated.”
As she slid onto the limo’s bench seat, her skirt caught on the leather and was lifted fairly high up on her leg. She blushed, realizing that she’d exposed more of her thigh to him than was technically polite. Still feeling her face reddened, she reached down and pushed the skirt back down. Even if she were partially embarrassed, she couldn’t help looking up and seeing if the sheikh had reacted. Maybe a gulp or a flare of his nostrils.
Damn, no such luck.
She still wasn’t sure what kind of outing they were on—date or business dinner. And worse, she wasn’t sure which she hoped it actually was.
“So,” he said once they were both settled and he’d ordered the driver forward in some terse words in Arabic. “Tell me more about yourself. You wanted to be in fashion. Do you still think you’ll work in that?”
“Right now, I just need to pay off my student debt,” she admitted. “Otherwise, it would be amazing. I don’t even want to do something huge like fashion week. I really do love creating the weird stuff. Con things.”
He frowned back at her and Addison felt as awkward as she always had back in high school when she got on an excited diatribe about the intricacies of her favorite anime. It was her nerdy side peeking out and the sheikh wasn’t going to like it. Rarely anyone ever had.
“What type of con?”
“Like a fan convention? I make all sorts of costumes. I guess my dream is to have some online business or even a small boutique where I create costumes for fans of TV and comic books and other things and can do creative, one-of-a-kind pieces. It’s not a Paris runway thing, more just being able to sew and create what I love. That probably bored you a lot.”
He shook his head and patted the hand she had laying on her knee. “It doesn’t. If I didn’t want to know about you, I definitely wouldn’t have asked.”
Biting her lower lip, Addison nodded. “What about you, Sheikh Amun? Do you do everything you want to?”
“No.”
Her head snapped back as if he’d slapped her a bit, and Addison wondered what she’d done to earn that sharp rebuke.
“I’m sorry?”