Compromising Positions (An Erotic Romance Novel) (5 page)

“Hmmm. Good question.” He rested a hand on her shoulder, sending those damn nerves into instant frenzy again. “I’d say it’s to provide our clients with a unique and highly personal, oh—and successful service.” There went the other hand on her other shoulder! Double damn! “So many dating services take your picture, film a video, or have you fill out a questionnaire then take your money and forget about you. I say we should take a more personable approach, follow up after dates, and of course, offer high quality applicants, based on sex, age…”

She shifted forward in her chair, knowing if he didn’t get away from her right now, she’d go absolutely nuts. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. What had he said? She skimmed her notes, registering only one word: sex.

He stepped away, fetched his chair and dragged it across the carpeted floor. He planted it next to hers and flopped into it, hanging over her back to read what she’d written. He was toying with her, he had to be. Her tongue felt swollen, and tiny droplets of sweat collected on her upper lip.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked after a few minutes.

“No. Nothing. I think I’m getting sick or something, so you might want to back up a bit.”

“Sick, eh? That’s too bad.” He didn’t sound sympathetic, and he didn’t back away.

She glanced at her watch. “Oh, look. It’s five o’clock. Time to go, bye.” She slammed her notebook shut and stood.

“You’re leaving early? I didn’t think you ever did that. In fact, just this morning, I heard your old boss telling Duncan what a hard worker you are. How would it look if he saw you skating outta here at this hour now? Anyway, I was thinking we should grab some dinner on the company’s tab, keep working. We have a lot to do and only nine more days to finish. One week from Friday’s the day, Fate.”

“How could I forget?” She sunk into her chair. He was right, even if he was manipulating her with that jab about Duncan. There was no way they’d get the plan finished in time if they didn’t keep working. Duncan had essentially asked for a miracle, but she could understand why. What company could afford to sit idle for even one day? “Okay. Dinner first, or do you want to keep working for a while?”

Standing, he bowed like a gallant knight and held out his hand. “My lady, would you be so kind as to join me for dinner this eve?”

He was corny, but in a sweet way. What harm could there be in letting her guard down, if only a tiny bit, to see what Gabe Ryan was really all about? Oh no, this was dangerous thinking.

Okay, no need to panic yet. Should she go? No, she shouldn’t go. Yes, she had to go. She just might learn what she needed to get him out of her office for good.

Then again, he might be trying to do the same to her. Well, well, well. Smooth isn’t the word for you, Gabe Ryan, is it?

It’s no lie. Chemistry can be dangerous.

Just her luck! The only table in the crowded restaurant was one of those cozy corner booths where her knees constantly rubbed against the person’s sitting next to her, Gabe, naturally. Her administrative assistant, Michael, sat on her other side, but his presence wasn’t as settling as she’d hoped. Yes, it was a tiny help having someone else’s face to look at, instead of being forced to stare at Gabe’s gorgeous mug all night. But it didn’t stop the rush of mind-melting heat every time Gabe’s thigh brushed against hers, nor did it help her put together coherent sentences.

Oh hell! When had he gotten so good looking? Men got better with age, where women just drooped.

Definitely not fair.

“So, what do you think, Fate?” Gabe asked.

She hadn’t heard the rest of the question, and if there was one thing she knew for certain, it was that she’d be a fool to answer any of his questions blindly. “What was that?”

Gabe shot a grin to Michael. “Told you.”

“What? What are you guys up to?” She hadn’t counted on them conspiring against her! Michael was so loyal.

Gabe’s leg rubbed against hers again. This time, it stayed put. When she tried to pull hers away, his moved with it.

Then a hand massaged her shoulder.

She felt like she was on a date. The scary part was, a big part of her wanted to snuggle up to the man…no, more than that, she realized when that knee stroked her outer thigh. She wanted to do much more than snuggle.

She wondered if the booth would become slick if she were naked, sweaty, with Gabe…oh, hell! “Would you two let me in on the joke?” She poked at her salad for the last time then shoved it aside. It was no use trying to eat.

Gabe gave her a sexy grin. “We were talking about work, of course.” He shot Michael a conspiratorial look.

“Bullshit.” She smacked his chest, and it took all the strength in her body to force her hand from him once it made contact. Damn it! What’s wrong with me? I don’t need to revisit Gabe Land again. It’s clearly no better a ride than it had been years ago…

Speaking of ride…God, did he have a hard chest! She wondered if he was still as cut as he’d been in college. Back then he’d been a jock, his sport of choice: swimming. It was amazing what a little water did for a guy’s body! His chest had been rock-hard and defined. His arms, too. Thick, defined, sexy. Classic washboard stomach. Every inch of that amazing body shaved smooth—Correction, almost every inch—Those inches spared by the razor were some of the best, too. Damn it, get your mind out of the man’s pants!

“Actually,” Michael said, “we were talking about the change in the brass. Gabe was telling me what a great boss Duncan is. And I told him the green rug and polyester had to go.”

Fate indulged in a giggle, stifled when that hand resting on her shoulder gave another little squeeze. What was that man trying to do to her?

Gabe chuckled. “Like I said, I’ve tried to tell him that some women find bald men sexy. What about you, Fate? Do you like bald men?” His gaze drilled her.

He was sitting too damn close…

He was too damn sexy…

That leg was rubbing hers…

Her mind was shut down. Permanently. “Uh. I need a drink.” She searched the crowded room for the waiter.

Gabe flagged him down when he passed with a tray of frosty, foam-headed mugs of beer.

Yes, that’s exactly what she needed. A cold beer. Ice-cold, to douse the warmth spreading over her crotch. Just dumping the stuff onto her lap might take it down a degree or two.

“You didn’t answer the question,” Michael said, giving Fate a poke. When had he become so uncharacteristically friendly? He was stiff, reserved, a damn good assistant. Not teasing, flirting, like he was acting now. “I can’t stay away from them myself.”

“Bald men?” she asked, wondering if she’d missed something again.

“Yep. They drive me crazy.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Gay? Michael was gay? Why hadn’t she known that before?

“Well, for some reason, I don’t think that’ll convince Duncan he needs to dump the rug. Last I checked he was straight.”

Michael shrugged. “He’s not my type anyway. I like ‘em athletic.”

Me too. “I can’t say I go for the bald look. Guess it depends on the guy.” She shifted, and the vinyl seat made an obscene sound. Rpffffff. Gabe raised an eyebrow and smirked. “It wasn’t me. I mean it wasn’t what you thought,” she stammered.

Gabe smiled. “Sure, I believe you.”

“Oh! Can we get some work done? That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

The waiter set a tall lemon lager on the table, and she silently thanked him with a smile. She swallowed the icy liquid and felt the chill drift down to her stomach. Ah! Much better.

Gabe gave her a lopsided smile. A hand squeezed her knee.

So much for cooling off. More heat rocketed to her groin. Damn him! She crossed her legs and squeezed them closed against the tingle.

His fingertips traced circles on her knee. The circles moved slowly up, up, up until they reached the hem of her skirt, about midway up her thigh.

She chugged the rest of her beer then flagged down the waiter for another. Maybe a second one would do the job.

Gabe leaned forward, his chest and stomach resting against her back for one very long heartbeat. She felt herself leaning back into him.

This was not good!

He grabbed the new beer and took several gulps. She watched his throat work, and the lingering wetness glisten on his lips. She could lick that off.

“What about Single Temptation?” Michael said.

What were they talking about now? How had she lost track of the conversation?

“Single Temptation?” she repeated, trying to figure out what the hell they were discussing. There was a single temptation sitting next to her at the moment. One giant temptation…

“The new company’s name,” Gabe explained, licking a bit of foam from the corner of his mouth. “What you do think? Still too—uh, what did you say earlier? Racy?” There was another one of those wicked grins. He should be arrested for that! He was shamelessly propositioning her with his eyes. His gaze visibly drifted down her body then wandered back up to her face. “Is there something wrong with racy? Personally, I like it.”

She brushed his hand off her thigh. “Like what? The company name or things that are racy?”

He set that mischievous hand right back where it had been, even a little higher. “Both, course that may be because I’m a little racy myself.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” A smile pasted on her face for both men’s benefit, she pried Gabe’s hand from her leg and held it a safe distance away.

That was no better, especially when he tickled her palm with his thumb. She pushed, he pulled, she pushed again, he pulled.

Would he let her go, dammit?

He released her hand, and she sagged with relief.

Then he squeezed her thigh.

The man needed a straight jacket! And she needed another beer. Somehow that last one had disappeared, and she didn’t remember drinking a bit of it.

The waiter brought her third lager and a fresh basket of nacho chips. She took a few, the salty taste a nice complement to the beer’s fruity flavor.

“We already determined our niche audience.” Gabe reached around her, lightly brushing the side of her breast as he scooped up a handful of chips from the basket. “I think we should use radio spots.”

“No way. Too expensive,” she said, dodging another accidental brush of his hand. “Are you insane? We’d spend our entire advertising budget in one month.”

Gabe took her beer from her and swallowed half of it. “Then we need an angle to get free media.”

Since when did he deserve to drink half her beer? Pig. “Would you quit doing that?”

“What? We’re talking about work. What’s wrong?”

“Quit drinking my beer. Get your own if you’re thirsty.”

“Sorry. I didn’t think you’d mind sharing.” The hand that had previously been holding her glass dropped back to her leg.

She wasn’t sure which was worse: when it was delivering her beer to his mouth, or now, when it was delivering tingly heat to her crotch.

Oh boy, now was definitely worse! A fingertip traced her skirt’s hem then slipped above it.

“You want to drink more? Be my guest. I think I’ve had enough.” She shoved his hand away.

He chuckled and took up her beer, downing it in a few long gulps. “So, what about that angle? How can we get some free media?”

“How about some kind of scandal?” Michael offered. “Something newsworthy. Hey, should I take notes?”

“No, I’m sure we’ll remember tomorrow,” Fate said, trying like hell to stay in the conversation.

Michael reached down and took out a notepad from his briefcase then shot a smile in Gabe’s direction. “I’ll keep notes just in case.”

“I don’t think the new brass would appreciate us launching their new company by throwing dirt at the press,” she continued, popping another chip in her mouth. She could feel a buzz spreading through her body. After what? One beer, and maybe a few sips of a second? She was such a lightweight when it came to drinking. Had always been. She wondered if Gabe remembered this.

“Then what about jumping into the spotlight with some other organization?” Gabe took another handful of chips from the basket and popped several into his mouth, then dropped that hand on her leg again.

Would he just give it up?

Did she want him to?

She brushed it away.

Gabe reached across the table, snagged Michael’s notepad and read through the notes. Then he dropped it on the floor.

That had to be the saddest hanky-drop she’d ever seen! But that didn’t stop Gabe from taking full advantage of it.

“I’m one clumsy jerk tonight. Sorry, Mike.”

Michael visibly swallowed against the urge to correct Gabe about his name, and Fate started to laugh. But before she’d released more than one guffaw, a hand up her skirt, fingertips tracing the line of her thong, ceased all mirth. She felt her mouth hanging wide open and clamped it shut.

Did those fingers ever feel good!

He looked over his shoulder at her, stooped in a strange position as he supposedly groped for the lost notepad. His hand rested between her legs. “Are you all right? You look a little flushed.”

“I’m fine. But I think you need to look elsewhere for the notes.” She shoved his hand away. “Maybe we need to approach this from another direction.”

“I’m listening.” Gabe sat up, tossed the pad to Michael, and pressed against her.

Would he quit taking everything she said so literally? She looked at Michael.

“What direction, Fate?” Michael asked.

The faint trill of a cell phone sounded, and they each glanced down.

“It’s mine.” Michael punched the button and answered, stepping away from the table after a couple words.

Now she was left with Gabe. Alone. Oh, God!

He grinned at her like a cat might before it swallowed a canary. “Are you sure you’re all right? You don’t look so good. Do you want me to take you home?”

“I’m fine.” She scooted away, hoping the distance might ease the heat between her legs.

“Have I told you how great it is working with you?”

“Indirectly.”

He laughed, and she couldn’t help admiring the way his features frolicked. A curl caught a breeze as the waiter swept by. She stopped herself before she reached for it.