“Yes. I was actually calling to invite you to a charity dinner tonight.”
Uh-oh.There’s no way I can go as his date, and I hesitate. But I’m scared if I say no then he’ll choose another firm over TB Tech. “Tonight?”
“I know it’s last minute and I apologize. But I heard Nash Beckett is back and I’d love to see you both tonight if you can back it.”
Oh, thank goodness.“We’d be delighted to come,” I say. There’s no way I can turn Jordan Lowe down and bringing Nash makes it completely professional.
“Great. I’ll have my assistant email you the details.”
“Thanks. See you this evening.”
After we hang up, I slouch back in my chair and touch my lips. They feel a little puffy from being kissed so thoroughly. I let out a sigh and relive our stolen moments in the closet.
When my email dings, I open up the invitation from Jordan. After skimming through it, I forward it to Nash with a message that we need to go. I should walk down and tell him in person but I’m too nervous to go see him right now. I’m still shaky from those kisses and the intimate feel of his body pressed against mine.
I have so much I need to concentrate on, especially figuring out how to lure Square Enterprises on as a client. But Nash is proving to be a huge distraction that I didn’t expect. At least not in this way. I thought he’d be annoying and bossy, but I had no idea we’d have this crazy, all-consuming chemistry between us.
Where the hell did it even come from?I wonder.
I have no idea, but things are different and he’s got me distracted in the best kind of way.
When my email dings again, I see Nash’s quick response:Looking forward to it. I’ll pick you up at 7:00 p.m.
Pick me up?This isn’t a date; it’s dinner with a client. Besides, I’m not sure I can handle being one on one like that with him. I planned on meeting him there because I was going to go straight from here.
I email him back:I’ll be going straight from here.
As if waiting for my response, he responds right away:Me, too. We can go together.
God, he’s so pushy but a part of me is getting excited. Spending the evening outside of the office with Nash is a first and, as the hours tick by, I find myself unable to concentrate on work and daydreaming about tonight.
Not that anything is going to happen.God, no.A part of me knows I have to keep it professional and the more wicked part of me can’t wait to get him alone.
What is wrong with me?I wonder and shake my head.
When the clock hits 6:00 p.m., for the first time that I can remember, I call it a day and stop working. I open my closet and look through some dresses that I keep here in case a last-minute event like Jordan’s dinner happens. It’s more common than one would think and it’s important that I can throw an evening gown on and go.
And thank God, I have the Versace one here.
Tonight, I’m going to take my time getting ready. It’s silly, but I want to look extra nice and there’s no denying why. For Nash. Just the thought makes me mad at myself. I know I shouldn’t waste so much effort getting ready for a man, but when Nash walks into my office at 6:30 p.m., the look on his face makes it well worth it.
As I lift a tube of red lipstick, I catch a glimpse of him in the mirror and I meet his stare. “Almost ready,” I say and swipe it across my lips. I can see him watching me closely and there’s no missing the way his gaze dips down to check out my ass and long legs.
I’m wearing a very sexy, white Versace gown that doesn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination. It hugs my curves and the slit up my thigh is dangerously high. The most provocative part, though, is the way it's cut. My entire back is nearly bare, and the dress has partial slits on the side, beneath my breasts, that show glimpses of skin.
I don’t have the nerve to wear it often and from the look on Nash’s face, he approves.
“You look amazing,” he finally murmurs.
“Thank you,” I say and turn around, patting my lips together. “Just let me put my shoes on and I’m ready.”
I sit down in a nearby chair and slip the elegant gold heels on which match the gold cuffs on my wrists. I can feel the heat of his gaze watching every movement I make, but I don’t make eye contact. My nerves kick in and I hope I didn’t overdo it with the dress.
When I stand up, I finally meet his hot, blue gaze and it practically sears me.
“Ready?” I ask and grab my clutch.
“Yeah,” he says.