I’m elbows-deep in invoices when a shadow falls across my desk.
“Just a minute, Dad,” I say without looking up. My pen scratches across the paper, slashing through the numbers I spent all morning typing up. “Leda Collins called and changed her head count again. Now she needs twelve round tables and ten extra chairs. I told her there’d be a rush charge on the additional linens, but she said she was fine with that.”
I push a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I’ve been staring at this latest batch of invoices for so long that my eyes are starting to cross.
“Have you heard from the Robinsons?” I continue, turning to my computer. “They were supposed to call and confirm for the twenty-eighth. And we should probably figure out when we’re doing the summer gallery show next year. I already have a bride who wants to use us for her reception in—”
A hand grasps me firmly by the chin and tilts my face up. Suddenly I’m staring into a pair of dark, intoxicating eyes, and my breath hitches in my throat.
“What’s this?” says a deep, familiar voice. “Have you forgotten about something?”
Even now, weeks after I broke onto his family’s estate, the sight of Calder Cunningham still makes my stomach flip-flop. He’s looking extra sexy right now, the broad line of his shoulders accentuated by his navy suit, his hair curling deliciously around his ears, the corner of his perfect lips curled up in amusement. But if he’s here, that can only mean one thing.
“Shit!” I say, pulling out of his grip. I scrabble around on the desk, looking for my cell, but I already know what the time will say. When I do find the phone, buried beneath a file of class registration forms, the screen reads 6:53PM.
Shit. Shit shit shit.
“I swear, the last time I glanced at the time it was three o’clock.” I dart around the desk, looking frantically for my bag. If I hurry, if I leave my hair up and go light on the makeup—
Calder catches me as I try to sweep past him and draws me toward him. The motion pulls me off-balance, and I fall against his chest, my hands clutching at the smooth lapels of his jacket and my nose brushing the crook of his neck. I freeze, and he loops his arms around my waist and holds me there. He smells faintly of soap and, beneath that, his own intoxicating scent. I take a deep breath, breathing him in. It’s been too long since I’ve seen him, too long since he’s held me like this in his arms.
Okay, it’s only been three weeks. Three weeks since Calder chased me through the hedge maze on his former estate. Three weeks since I’ve had him in front of me, close enough to touch. Three weeks since his fingers skimmed across my bare skin, as they’re dancing over my neck right now. Those three weeks might as well have been a lifetime, as badly as I’ve missed him.
But of course, screwup that I am, I lose track of time on the day of our first real date.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I swear, I—”
He silences me with his lips. His mouth is gentle at first, hesitant, like he’s uncertain how I’ll respond after our time apart. Like he’s forgotten how natural, how right our bodies feel against each other. But the minute his lips touch mine, my entire body comes alive. Goose bumps ripple across my flesh, chasing the waves of heat that rush just beneath the surface of my skin. I let out a small moan, and whatever doubts Calder had seem to disappear.
He yanks me against his body, crushing me to his hard chest. His mouth moves hungrily, desperately, against my own, and mine meets his with equal passion. I revel in the taste of him, eager to drink it all in.
Damn, I missed this.
He’s backing me up against my desk now, and I don’t protest when he pushes me down on top of it. Something falls to the floor beside us. My files? The invoices? Honestly, I don’t care. One of Calder’s hands moves around the small of my back while the other winds in my hair, his fingers twisting and pulling at the strands. He leans over me, nudging my thighs apart so he can press nearer. There’s a clatter as something else tumbles off the desk. Something big this time—probably that dinosaur of a three-hole punch we’ve had since this place opened.
There’s no way Dad didn’t hear that.
I push Calder off of me and sit up, grabbing him by the tie even as my dad’s voice floats in from the next room. “Lily? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine! It’s nothing!” I tug Calder around the desk and shove him down onto the floor. He’s too surprised to resist or argue, and I pray that he catches the warning in my glare. I’m just bending to pick up the three-hole punch when Dad appears in the doorway.
“Is everything okay, honey?”
“Yeah,” I say, waving the beast of a gadget at him. “Just knocked a couple of things off my desk.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Calder raise his eyebrows in surprise. I give him a small kick, hoping he gets the hint.
Dad is looking curiously at me, and I realize suddenly how disheveled I must appear. My hands skim over my shirt, my skirt. And—oh, God—my hair…
“It’s been a rough day,” I say, trying to brush it off, hoping against hope that my face isn’t as red as it feels. Crap, are my lips swollen?
But my dad either doesn’t notice or chooses not to see.
“That Collins woman again?” he says. “She’s been a real trip.”
I nod. “Called and changed her numbers again. I—”
Calder is touching me. His fingers are sliding up my leg—softly, slowly, sending shivers all the way up my thigh. I clear my throat and try to shift away from him, but his hand follows.
“I—I redid the invoices,” I manage, indicating the papers that are still on the floor. Calder’s hand has slipped beneath the hem of my skirt now, and it’s slowly inching its way upward. His breath is warm against my ankle. When I try to gently nudge his face away, he nips at my skin and flicks his tongue sensually along the back of my leg. I try not to squirm.
“How many do they have coming?” Dad asks.
It’s hard to remember the number with Calder’s mouth teasing my ankle and his fingers caressing my thigh. “Two hundred and twelve, I think?”
Dad whistles. “A big one.”
“We need it.” I lean forward and grip the desk, trying to keep my face blank. Calder’s ever-climbing hand is now tickling my strategically closed thighs, trying to force me to part them. In spite of the situation, my body reacts instinctively to the touch. Heat pools in my lower belly, a contrast to the panicked lump in my throat. I’m having trouble breathing normally, and my face and neck feel warmer with every passing second. I swear, if my dad finds out about us like this, Calder’s going to get it. And by “it” I don’t mean the prize he’s currently seeking between my legs.
I shift again, and this time I feel my heel connect with Calder’s cheek. He sucks in a breath, and I cough to cover up the sound.
Dad’s frowning. Great, he must have heard.
But no—he’s shaking his head. “Didn’t you have dinner plans with a friend?”
“Yes. Yes I do.” I smile. “I was just about to change.”
Dad’s smiling again. “Good. You’ve been working too much these past few weeks.”
“I could say the same of you.”
It’s true, but if I’m being honest, Dad looks the best he has in months. When the Frazer Center for the Arts was on the brink of closing, he was a mess. I’ve never seen him look so old, so tired, so haggard. But now he might be a decade younger. He’s smiling more—laughing, even—and, as cheesy as it sounds, the sparkle is back in his eyes. We’re not completely out of danger yet, but we’re moving steadily in the right direction, and that positive energy has been enough to make Dad excited about this place again.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” he says. “You have fun tonight, honey.”
“Will do.”
No sooner has he turned away than Calder grabs my hand and yanks me down beside him—or, more accurately, on top of him. I squirm as he wraps his arms around me, holding me hostage.
“That was an interesting welcome,” he murmurs against my hair. “First you forget about our date—”
“I didn’t forget,” I insist. “I just got caught up in—”
“And then you hide me from your father like we’re in high school or something.” His arms tighten around my waist. “Are you embarrassed by me?”
“No! Of course not! I just haven’t told Dad about you yet. He’s not—I mean, I don’t think he hates you or anything, but he…” I try to wriggle out of his grasp, but instead he flips me over so that I’m beneath him. His face looms over mine, but I don’t get a chance to read his expression before he dips his head and nuzzles my neck.
“You mean he won’t exactly be happy to know you’re dating the guy who almost brought this place down around your ears,” he murmurs before attacking my throat with his mouth.
I nod, too distracted by the thing he’s doing with his tongue to answer immediately. When I agreed to let Calder pick me up at work, I’d planned to meet him outside.
“Plus,” I manage after a minute, “he’s going to wonder how it came about, and I never exactly told him the truth about that weekend.” Ah, yes—those three days I spent trapped in the Cunningham mansion playing cat-and-mouse with Calder, letting him tease me and taunt me and give me the most intense sex I’ve ever had in my life. Even now I shiver at the memory.
But it’s not exactly something you tell your dad. Especially when the sex god in question is the person responsible for the near-ruin of his nonprofit arts center. And that’s exactly what makes our current position on the floor of my office especially compromising.
But Calder has noticed my body’s reaction, and he’s not about to let this opportunity slip out of his fingers.
“What, you don’t want your father to know what dirty, dirty things you’ve done?” he whispers against my throat. He grabs my skirt and begins tugging the fabric up toward my hips.
“Calder!” I rasp, batting at his hands. “Not here.”
He ignores me. His fingers slide up the backs of my bare thighs, moving to the lacy edge of my panties.
“Calder…” This time it doesn’t sound like much of a warning. God, when did I lose complete control over my body?
His hand slips beneath the thin fabric of my underwear and skims across my bare ass. I writhe against him, but my attempts to get away only backfire, judging by the bulge I feel in his pants. He starts to pull my panties down my legs. If I don’t do anything quickly, he’s going to have me right here on the floor of my office.
Not that my body seems to mind the idea. I’m trembling, aching for that touch I’ve missed these past weeks. When he slips his fingers between my legs, I just about lose it.
“What about dinner?” I ask him frantically.
“Screw dinner.”
“I still have to change.”
“Go naked.”
“If you think I’m going to have sex with you while my dad’s in the next room…”
“That just makes it more… stimulating, doesn’t it?” His finger brushes against my clit, and I suck in a breath.
Part of me wants to just give in, to surrender myself to the pent up sexual energy that’s consumed me since the last time we saw each other. But fortunately, the rational part of my mind hasn’t completely jumped ship just yet.
“Martin’s expecting us,” I remind him.
At the mention of his family’s former chef, Calder sighs. His explorations of my body cease, and his grip loosens on my waist.
“Martin was always quite the cockblock,” he growls. But he moves his fingers across my sensitive nub a final time, and amusement flashes in his eyes when I let out a soft whimper.
“Tonight,” he promises, “you’ll be begging me for it. And I’m going to fuck you until you can’t even remember your own name, let alone annoying little things like dinner plans.”
His words send a thrill through my core, but I can’t let him see how much they affect me or we’ll never get out of here. I wiggle once more beneath him, and he sighs and rolls off of me. I give him a playful hit as I sit up. If we’re going to be on time for our reservation, I don’t have much time to change and freshen up my makeup.
“Just stay down there for a minute,” I say, glancing around once more for my bag. “I’m going to run to the bathroom and change.”
He pushes himself up on his elbows, grinning. “Or you could just close the door and change in here. I promise I’ll behave.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute. Besides, you’re not supposed to see me naked before the first date.”
His eyes darken. “I think we’re already past that barrier.”
“You know what I mean.”
He chuckles, but his eyes continue to burn into mine. “It won’t stop me from trying to get your clothes off.”
If we didn’t have a reservation—and if my dad weren’t right next door—I would just give into his teasing. But we aren’t locked away in his mansion, shut off from the rest of the world. We’re in the Frazer Center, and we have a very important reservation.
“Martin will be disappointed if we’re late,” I remind him again.
“Fine. I’ll behave. But you better hurry, or I’ll ravish you anyway. And I don’t care who in this place knows it.”
I find my bag behind the door and grab it, not bothering to respond. I don’t want to give him any encouragement. Even the feeling of his gaze on me makes prickles dance across my skin, and I know it wouldn’t take much to break my resistance completely.
God, it’s just too easy for him, isn’t it?
I race down the hallway and lock myself in the bathroom. It takes me only about a minute to slip out of my button-down and pencil skirt and pull on the black dress I brought along. It’s sleek and sexy, but not too revealing—perfect for a first date.
It feels so strange, preparing for an actual date with Calder. I mean, my primary acquaintance with this man stems from those passionate, erotic days I spent with him on his former estate. That whole weekend still feels like a very strange but vivid sexual dream—I mean, we played hide-and-seek, for God’s sake—and I can’t quite reconcile that experience with my normal everyday life.
I put on my heels next, and then I pull my hair out of its ponytail while I scrabble for my cosmetics bag. I’m suddenly nervous, and an anxious lump settles in my belly as I shake my waves of hair out around my shoulders. What will Calder think of me, now that the erotic fairy tale is over? When I’m not a desperate prisoner, and he no longer has the world at his feet? When we’re just two ordinary people eating dinner?
I force myself to take a deep breath as I give myself a final once-over in the mirror.
Everything’s going to be fine, I tell myself. I’m going to have an amazing time tonight.
I grab my things from the floor and hurry back to my office.
Calder is no longer hiding behind the desk.
“What are you doing?” I say, looking nervously down the hall. “What if my dad walked by?”
He’s standing at my wall, looking at my pictures. At the end of every instructional cycle, we take photos of each of the art classes. I’ve taught more than a few classes during my time here, and I keep every picture.
“I didn’t realize you worked with the kids,” Calder says, still staring at the images.
“I do a little bit of everything around here. At a place as small as this, you learn to wear more than a few hats.”
He nods, frowning a little. I wonder what he’s thinking—whether he’s remembering his own part in the Frazer Center’s troubles. But not his part—his father’s part. It’s not Calder’s fault that he inherited financial troubles.
I walk over and place my hand gently on his arm. The touch seems to bring him back to the present, and the clouds disappear from his expression. He turns to me, and he opens his mouth to speak, but then his eyes widen slightly. His gaze drifts down my body.
“You,” he says, grabbing my hand and bringing it to his lips, “are absolutely breathtaking.”
I’m blushing again. I try to tug my hand away, but he holds it tight. He flicks his tongue across the tips of my fingers, and heat rushes between my legs.
“I thought of your punishment,” he says.
“Punishment?”
“For forgetting our date.” He holds out his hand. “Your panties, please.”
I raise my eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“I think it’s a suitable request, considering the emotional distress you put me through.”
“Yeah, you seem very distressed,” I tease. But I don’t object when he reaches out and pulls up the ends of my dress.
“Go on, then,” he says.
I cast a quick glance back at the door before grabbing my panties and pushing them down. Calder gives my bareness an appreciative glance before dropping my dress, and I reach down and grab the garment that has pooled around my ankles.
At least I had the foresight to wear a sexy pair. They’re black and lacy, and Calder seems all too pleased when I hand them over.
“Don’t worry,” he says, his voice low and husky. “I’ll take good care of them for you.”
“And what am I supposed to do? What if I get cold?”
He looks as if he’s about to devour me whole. “Then I’ll just have to take care of that for you, won’t I?”
He slips the panties into his pocket, and I press my thighs together. I’m already experiencing the effect he desired, but I can’t let things get out of hand.
“Dinner,” I remind him.
“Of course.”
I lead him to the door, taking care to glance around for Dad before slipping out into the hallway. I feel extra scandalous without any underwear, but I can’t let that distract me. We need to get out of here unnoticed.
We’re almost to the front door—almost free—when I hear a small gasp to my left. Morgan, one of our new teachers, stands at the door to her classroom, gaping at us.
Well, gaping at Calder, more accurately. He has that effect sometimes.
Morgan blinks, then squints. I imagine she’s trying to figure out how and why she recognizes the gorgeous man standing in our lobby. She wasn’t here last year to meet Calder the one time he visited the Center with his father, but she’s probably seen his face on the tabloids more than a couple of times.
But as much as I’d love to indulge her curiosity, Dad’s sure to spot us if we linger here too long.
“We’re late for dinner,” I tell her. “But I’ll talk to you in the morning?”
Morgan’s eyes flick to me, and she nods. The promise of an explanation tomorrow seems to satisfy her for the moment. I make another dash for the door with Calder in tow, but I pause at the threshold, glancing back.
“Do me a favor and keep this from my dad?”
Her eyes widen in surprise, but she breaks into a smile.
“I get it,” she says, winking. “Your secret’s safe. You two have fun.” Her voice rises suggestively on the last word, and I feel myself blushing once more as Calder and I escape outside.
“Can she keep a secret?” Calder asks, slipping a hand onto my lower back and guiding me across the parking lot. “Or should I expect a murder attempt by your father in the middle of the night?”
“He won’t murder you.”
“Ah, good.”
“He’s more of the torturing type.”
He grins in response, but I detect a hint of worry behind his amusement.
“I’ll tell him about us soon,” I promise. “I just need to figure out how to raise the topic.” But that’s not the only thing I have to figure out. Even if I can come up with a reasonable explanation for my current association with Calder, what exactly do I call this thing between us? I know that we’re attracted to each other, and I believe there’s a deeper emotional connection here. But how deep? We’re not even technically “exclusive”—right?
Look at me. We’re not even to the car and I’m already overanalyzing things.
Thus begins the Madness of Lily Frazer.
Still, I put on a smile. I’m on a date with Calder Cunningham. I need to stop worrying and enjoy myself.
He stops in front of a silver sedan.
“Your chariot, my lady.” He eyes the car sidelong. “This is where I wish I’d found a way to keep the Lamborghini.”
I laugh. “You’ve seen the death trap that I drive. This looks like pure luxury.” I should tell him that it doesn’t matter what he drives—that he could carry me to the restaurant on the handlebars of a bicycle, for all I care—but that sentiment sounds way too sappy. So I bite my lip and let him guide me into the passenger’s seat.
I cross my hands in my lap as he walks around to the driver’s side. My nerves have returned in full force. Back on his estate, I felt wild and wicked and seductive. In that strange, secluded mansion, I discovered a passionate, confidently sexual side of myself that I never even knew existed. Now? I feel like a freaking high schooler on her first grown-up date—uncertain and awkward and terrified.
Please, don’t let me vomit in his car…
He flashes me another one of his killer smiles as he slides into his seat. It sets off an entire circus of butterflies in my stomach. He puts his keys into the ignition, but he doesn’t start the car. Instead, he leans over and takes me by the chin, pulling my lips to his.
I lean into his kiss, sinking into the sensations sweeping through me. This I can handle. This fire, this physical passion. I open my mouth beneath his, let his breath mingle with mine. His hand skims over my breasts, teasing my nipples to hard points beneath the thin fabric. I want to forget dinner. Forget the awkward formality of a real “date.” I want to slip out of this dress and let him fuck me right here in this car. I shouldn’t have stopped him before. I should have let him take me, because I know that as soon as we’re joined I’ll forget all these silly worries and remember that this, right now, is perfect.
But Martin is expecting us.
This time Calder is the one who pulls away first, but I can tell by the lazy curl of his lips and the dark gleam in his eyes that he wants to give into the same urges I do.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” he says. “I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman at the restaurant.”
I nod and sit back against my seat.
It’s just a date, I tell myself. I’m just nervous. I bet if I told him, he’d think it was cute.
But somewhere, deep down, I know this isn’t just a date, at least not for me. And that’s the part that’s terrifying.