First Love: A Superbundle Boxed Set of Seven New Adult Romances (56 page)

"Good," Robb said. He pressed his hands on the lab table and pushed himself back from the conversation. He had to leave before he got too worked up. The smell of Liz's blood still wafted through the air, and it was beginning to make his head spin. "Let me know if there's any problem going forward."

"Thank you, Dr. Chatham," Jenny said. "And thanks for the drink."

"Anytime," Robb said, watching Liz cast her eyes down to the floor. There was something different about her. Casually, he pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and wrote his number on the back of it. Maybe he was stupid to do this. Maybe he should just leave well enough alone. Liz looked up at him and her green eyes flashed with an intensity that took his breath away.

"Thank you for coming, Dr. Chatham," she said. Her lips curved into a shy smile that he ached to steal into a kiss. Or a bite.

Jenny went to put back the first aid kit and Liz walked with him to the lab door. He hadn't decided whether or not to give her his number, but as they walked past the table where she'd broken the glass, she slipped on a soapy patch still wet on the floor. Robb caught her by the elbow and for a moment felt her body press against his, the soft warmth making his body react instantly. Helping her regain her balance, he let the slip of paper fall into her lab coat pocket. It was a trick Eliza had taught him. In the instant he thought of her, a stab of guilt forced a small gasp from his chest. He pushed back. This girl wasn't Eliza.

"Sorry!" she said, her cheeks flushing again.

"The beautiful ones are always so clumsy," Robb said, absentmindedly. "Good luck with the test runs."

"Thank you, Dr. Chatham," Liz said, her eyes wide. God, she was beautiful. He turned to go, hoping that she would find the slip of paper sooner rather than later. And if she did, he hoped that she would be curious enough to call. She would be perfect as a lab assistant, and perhaps...more...

But he'd done as much as he would do. Fate would

decide the rest.

Chapter Six

Jenny collapsed onto the couch in the living room upside down, her legs splayed over the back pillows, her blond hair hanging down to the floor. Liz had cleaned the living room two days ago, but already Jenny's stuff was covering half of the floor.

"That went well," Jenny said, kicking her shoes off one by one.

"Right. I broke a flask in front of the lab director who pays my stipend right after calling him an asshole."

"When did you call him an asshole?"

"Never mind. It's a long story."

Liz slumped onto the couch next to Jenny. A crinkling in her coat pocket caught her attention, and she pulled out a scrap of paper from the lab coat.

"Weird," she said, reading the note. She turned the paper in her hand and her mouth went dry.

"What's that?" Jenny asked.

"It wasn't in my pocket this morning," Liz said. "Check it out. There's an address on one side, and on the other side it says—"

"I want to see you tonight. Call me at 7:00. Oh. My. God! Liz!" Jenny squealed. "Robert Chatham wants to take you out on a date!"

"Do you think this was meant for you? Maybe it was a mistake. You're the more experienced lab assistant." Even as she spoke the words, Liz knew that it wasn't for Jenny; the note was for her. And it didn't sound like it was about chemistry. Dr. Chatham had looked at her so strangely...

"Are you kidding me? You have Robert Chatham asking you to call him and you think it's a
mistake
? Robert Chatham doesn't make mistakes."

"Didn't he drop out of college?"

"To found a multimillion dollar cancer research company, yeah."

Liz had opened her mouth to speak, but at these words she found that her mind wasn't working anymore.

"I...cancer research? You didn't tell me that."

"Thought I did. That was his first business, digital rendition modeling of cancerous cell proliferation. We still use his program in the lab."

Jenny kept talking about Robert Chatham and all of the different businesses he had gone on to develop, but Liz couldn't get past the words
cancer research
. Was that why he had looked at her so strangely? Had he looked up her student profile before coming to visit? She blinked and noticed that Jenny was looking at her expectantly.

"I'm not dating the director of our lab," Liz said.

"What
? Why not?"

"Um, because it's unprofessional to work next to someone you're dating." Now, though, she was intrigued. Why had Robert Chatham started his career doing cancer research? And why had he stopped?

"Last year Prof Tandy said he only showed up twice the entire year last year. And the second time he came for a presentation, he stayed for the pancake breakfast and then left halfway through the talk. He doesn't
work
here. Like I said, he just writes the checks."

"Jenny, it really doesn't matter. I'm not going to call him." Liz reached out to take the scrap of paper back, but Jenny held it out of her reach.

"The postcode for this address is outside of London proper," Jenny said, scrutinizing the page. "That doesn't make sense. It would take an hour and a half just to drive out there. No way is that where he lives."

"Maybe that's not his address," Liz said.

"Yeah, looks like different writing anyway," Jenny said, flipping the paper back over. "He's pretty bloody direct about it, huh?"

"What do you mean?"

"
I want to see you tonight
? Liz, what do you
think
that means?"

Liz swallowed hard. She was trying not to think about what it meant. Plenty of her female colleagues had found themselves working under bosses who thought sexual harassment was something HR made up to justify their jobs. In science, being a woman meant being surrounded by men, many of whom didn't understand the word
no
. But she'd thought that in grad school, things would be different.

"I'm not sleeping with him," Liz said firmly. "If he wants to take me out on a date, we can talk about the project. That's it."

"So you are going to go out with him!"

"To talk about the project." There was no harm in that. And she could ask him about his earlier research. She was so curious...

Jenny sat up suddenly on the couch.

"Liz, what time is it?"

"I don't know, five thirty? Six?"

"We have to get you ready!"

"I am ready. How am I not ready?"

Jenny looked at Liz up and down, examining her outfit. Which consisted, as it always did, of a t-shirt, jeans, and a hooded sweatshirt to hide everything.

"Seriously?"

Liz pulled her hoodie over her head and yanked it tight.

"Don't judge me," she said.

"I'm not judging you. Robert Chatham will be judging you."

Under the warmth of her hoodie, Liz shivered. Assuming her silence as assent, Jenny jumped up from the couch and leapt in three bounds to her bedroom. Liz heard her digging through her closet.

"You do know I'm like five sizes bigger than you, right?" she asked. "Possibly ten sizes."

"One second. I know it's in here." Jenny's voice was muffled, probably by the piles of clothes standing waist-high in her room. Liz didn't know how she managed to find anything in there, let alone something clean to wear out.

"Are you visiting Narnia in there?" she called, after Jenny hadn't come out for a couple of minutes. Liz walked over to her doorway just as Jenny emerged from the back of her closet holding up a dark red dress triumphantly.

"This is it. It's my sister's," she said, thrusting the dress at Liz. "She's about your size." Jenny was nice enough not to say it. Still, the dress was completely inappropriate.

"Red? No. Red is a
fuck me
dress color."

"So?"

"That is
not
the message I want to send," Liz said.

"Do you have a dress? You have to wear a dress."

Liz opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, but the answer she wanted was not on her tongue.

"Right," Jenny said. "So go take a shower and put this on."

"But—"

"You can wear a cardigan over the top."

Liz looked at Jenny. Jenny looked right back. Liz sighed. She knew that she had a better chance of curing cancer that night than of trying to dissuade her labmate from playing dress-up.

"Fine," she said. "But nothing too sexy."

The next hour was a whirlwind of preparation. Liz had never understood why so many girls took hours to get ready in the morning, but with all of the steps Jenny put her through, she was amazed that
getting ready
ever finished at all. Skin cleansers and toners, moisturizers and foundation.

Liz wriggled into the dress in Jenny's room, then looked around for a mirror.

"Not until I'm done," Jenny said, plunking Liz down onto the corner of the bed and holding a tube of lipstick up near her cheek. Jenny dotted and dabbed bits of color onto her face, and Liz sat very still, like a model posing for a painting.

"Thanks," Liz said, when Jenny was done dabbing some sheer metallic stuff onto her eyelids. She pulled her dampened hair back and grabbed the hair tie she'd left on the bed.

"No, hair down." Jenny said, stealing the hair tie from out of Liz's hand.

"No. I never have my hair down," Liz said. "And stop grabbing things away from me!"

"That's exactly why you need to have your hair down. I'll style it for you."

"We don't have much time," Liz said, eying the clock. He'd said to call him at seven, though, which meant that they had a bit of extra time afterwards.

Jenny was already brushing Liz's hair, though, and she squirted some kind of gel into her palm and began to work it through Liz's hair. All of Liz's protests were drowned out by the hair dryer set to high. Jenny used a huge round brush as she dried Liz's hair.

"Man, your hair is thick," Jenny said. She put more product in and then styled it with her hand.

"It's okay if it doesn't look good," Liz said. "I can always tie it up."

"Are you kidding? I'd die for hair like this. You look fantastic, hun! Here, stand up and look at yourself."

Jenny pulled off a skirt that had been draped over her wall mirror, and Liz gasped at what she saw.

First of all, her eyes looked humongous. The smoky gray shadow and mascara Jenny had put on made her irises
glow
green, and the red fabric of the dress only accentuated the emerald color. The lipstick was a delicate pale peach, almost nude, and Jenny had followed it up with a swipe of something glittery. The effect was startling—Liz looked older, much more mature, but not in a trashy way, the way she normally looked when she did her own makeup.

The sleeveless red dress, surprisingly enough, wasn't too skimpy—the hem came down to just above her knee, and the fabric was ruched at the top. More importantly to Liz, the collar was high enough that it didn't show any of her cleavage. Instead, the boat neck curved gently across her collarbone, leaving most of her shoulders exposed but her chest covered. It looked...

"Classy," Liz said.

"Exactly." Jenny stepped back, crossing her arms and looking pleased with herself. "And you're only a minute late for your phone call."

"What?" Liz grabbed for her phone. The hand that held the slip of paper shook slightly as she dialed the number.

"Fashionably late," Jenny said. Liz shushed her quiet, the phone pressed to her ear.

"Hey," Robb's voice said halfway through the second ring. "You ready to go?"

Tiny thrills butterflied their way up through Liz's stomach.

"Yes," she said, aiming for a calm, composed manner. "Where do you want me to meet you?"

"Right outside your building."

Her face must have shown her surprise, because Jenny followed Liz eagerly to the window. Just below them on the street, Robb was leaning against his car. He waved.

"I'd come up but student housing depresses me. Say hi to Jenny."

"He says hi," Liz said, backing away from the window. "I'll be right down." She looked at Jenny and mouthed the words:
Oh my god.

***

"Have the best time ever," Jenny said, waving goodbye as the elevator doors closed on Liz. The elevator was dim and cramped, but this was the first time it seemed to take forever to reach the ground floor. She pulled a hair clip from her purse and knotted her hair up into a loose bun. Classy, not sexy. Jenny would just have to deal with it.

"You look more than ready," Robb said, taking her hand and, instead of shaking it as she'd expected, raised it to his lips. She flushed and noticed that for a brief instant his dark eyes went wide.

"You're not too shabby yourself," Liz said. It was such an understatement that it might well have been an outright lie. Robb looked delicious in a charcoal-gray suit as he opened the car door for her and peered back up towards her window.

"Does your roommate always spy on you when you have a date?"

"I don't have dates," Liz said, sputtering once she'd realized how bad that sounded. "I mean, I just moved here. I don't go out that often." She frowned. "Uh, is this a date?"

Robb's smile was dazzlingly white.

"Kind of." He ducked his head down into the car and she followed suit. The dark leather seats had warmers, and he reached over to turn hers on. The heat spread through her thighs and back, making every muscle in her body relax. She couldn't help letting out a soft sigh as she eased back into the chair.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," Robb teased.

Liz shot a glance over at Robb. His hands wrapped around the top of the leather steering wheel, and despite herself, she had a vivid mental picture of Robb's hands closing around her arms, her shoulders, her neck...

"What's
kind of
a date?" she asked, darting a question back at him. "Are you taking me to dinner?"

"Sure. But first we're going back to my place."

"Excuse
me?"

Liz looked over at Robb. His grin was so boyishly charming that she wanted to lean over and kiss him on the cheek. Right before she slapped it. Instead she looked back out the car window at the old buildings towering in the gray London sky.