Debra Webb - In His Touch Box Set (Here To Stay, Up Close, Tempting Trace, Basic Instincts) (40 page)

“I appreciate you starting with me.”

“You deserved it, though,” she added, irritation slipping back into her tone.

“Yeah, well payback’s a bitch.” She’d had him climbing the walls all week.

“And just what’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded, indignation rising in her tone. She planted her hands firmly on her slender hips and glared up at him.

He tossed the ice pack she’d so carefully prepared into the bar’s sink, and matched her stance. “You sashay around here all week in one flimsy dress after the other, trying to distract me—trying to mess with my head. I’d say you were due a little payback.”

She glared at him, all signs of regret gone now. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with the clothes I wear. Can I help it if you don’t know how to keep your testosterone in check?”

“My testosterone is just fine, Miss Carson.”

Claire’s gaze zeroed in on his mouth. She stared intently as if she’d suddenly forgotten what they were discussing. Her lips parted and he heard the little rush of air she released.

“Why are you staring at me?” he asked hoarsely, suddenly aware of how close they stood to each other... of how good she smelled... of how very much he’d like to hold her in his arms. Trace’s last coherent thought was that he should step away from her—break the trance enveloping them both—but he couldn’t. Somehow Claire always had that effect on him.

“I have to go,” she whispered, though she made no move to leave.

His eyes were on her lips now. Full and lush, a perfect pink color. And even though his nose still ached, he drew in long and deep of the scent that had been driving him crazy all week. If he leaned just a little closer he could smell her hair, but he didn’t dare move. Trace closed his eyes and willed himself to concentrate on something else... anything else.

Claire flattened her palm against his chest. Trace sucked in a harsh breath and snapped his eyes open.

“Are you alright?” she asked softly, too softly.

Man, he had to get ahold of himself. “Miss Carson, this is not going to work.” Trace met the warmth in her eyes with frost in his own.

“I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Walker,” she said, her expression slightly bewildered as if she’d just awakened from a dream.

He fought the intense hunger that ravaged him and went for stern. “Oh, yes, you do. You’ve been trying to throw me off balance all week.”

She frowned slightly, looking for all the world as innocent as an angel straight from heaven. “Are you saying that you have a problem working with me, Mr. Walker? If so, then perhaps we need to rethink my contract.”

“I’m saying that you’re trying to seduce me.”

“Seduce you?” She jerked her hand back. “Please,” she said with an exaggerated shudder, as if the idea were completely repulsive.

“You’ve been purposely trying to drive me crazy all week and you know it,” he snapped. Besides, what the hell would be so bad about seducing him? He hadn’t had any complaints yet.

Claire straightened and crossed her arms over her chest. “I most certainly have not been trying to seduce you and I resent the implication.”

“It’s not an implication—it’s a statement of fact,” he barked. She was mad now. Good. She should be mad, because he sure as hell was. And he didn’t like to be mad alone.

“Are you saying you’re attracted to me in some perverted way?” she accused.

“Perverted? Hell, no!” The very idea! Perverted! The woman had to be nuts.

“Well, I hate to burst your bubble, Mr. Walker, but I’m not at all attracted to you,” she said glibly. “Personally, I don’t care for all the brawn and no brains type.”

Careful not to touch her, Trace placed one hand on the bar on each side of her and leaned in so close that he could feel her trepidation as it trembled through her body. “Miss Carson,” he warned, “you’ve already physically assaulted me. I will not stand by while you insult my intelligence as well.”

“And just what do you propose to do about it?” she asked, a challenge in her eyes. “Hit me back?”

Trace made the monumental mistake of allowing his gaze to follow the movement of her lips as she spoke. He could easier have stopped the sun from setting in the west than he could prevent his mouth from taking hers.

Sugar and spice and everything nice—that’s exactly how she tasted. Sweet and warm and oh, so soft. Her momentary resistance relaxed into an invitation to take. And take he did. Trace slid his arms around her, touched and then threaded his fingers into the silky hair that had tempted him all week. The feminine smells of delicate perfume and fragrant shampoo filled him with a sense of longing that made him ache all over.

Claire slid her hands up his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. Trace’s heart pounded at her responsiveness. He could never have imagined a reaction like this. He’d expected, if anything, for her to slug him again. But she didn’t. Claire leaned in to the kiss. She felt good against him. He wanted to hold her tighter and kiss her until she begged him to make love to her. The thought of making love to this hellion sent a rush of heat to his lower body. When she moaned softly into his mouth, his chest constricted with such desire and possessiveness that he felt certain she had to feel it, too.

Her fingers plunged into the hair at his nape, and she tentatively touched her tongue to his lips. Trace opened and welcomed her desire to explore. Her tongue caressed his, sending a shock wave through his already hardening body. He groaned and pressed his rigid desire against her softness. Following her lead, he dipped his tongue into her sweet mouth. Warmth spread through him as he explored and tasted her.

She felt so small and fragile in his arms. An almost overwhelming protective instinct swelled inside him. Trace wanted her so much it hurt.

But he couldn’t have her.

He reluctantly drew himself away from the body he so wanted to possess. In every sense of the word, Trace realized. But that could never happen. His lips protested the move with a half groan, half sigh.

“You should go now, Miss Carson,” he said in a voice that sounded husky to his own ears.

Claire touched her kiss-swollen lips. Her dazed expression made him want to pull her back into his arms and kiss her again.

“I think you’re right, Mr. Walker.” Her gaze darted from his to the floor. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

He watched her strut away and shook his head. He’d never in his life seen another woman who could move quite like that. He let out a ragged breath. One week and already Claire Carson had him turned inside out.

“Miss Carson,” he called as she got to the door.

“Yes?” She shifted to face him, her cheeks still flushed from the intimacy they’d shared.

Trace maintained the safe distance between. “That was inappropriate behavior, it won’t happen again.”

Claire seemed to consider his apology for a time before speaking. “The kiss I’ll get over,” she finally said. “Just don’t schedule any more barnyard guests on
my
show.”

Trace nodded his concession. “Oh,” he said, staying her departure once more, “Gabe and I will be in Dallas on Monday, but we’ll be back on Tuesday.”

“How will I manage without you?” She feigned a smile, then slipped out of his office. He tried to remember that Claire Carson was his employee—his enemy, really. A woman who’d resurrected serious pain in his life. The last thing he needed to do was get involved with her. She was the type he consistently avoided. Too much like Annette, the woman he’d made the mistake of giving his heart and name to all those years ago. The kind of woman that made him lose control. Trace hated to lose control. He had to keep his goal firmly in front of him—to teach her a lesson.

Nothing more.

“Trace!”

Trace blinked as his vice president rushed into his office, carrying several folders. Why hadn’t Gabe walked in earlier?
Before
he’d kissed the woman?

Gabe pointed an inpatient finger, folders tucked under the other arm. “You’ve got to hire a real secretary! I can’t find a damned thing I need. In less than a week, that... that... Carson woman has made a mess of the files.” He blew out an exasperated puff of air, his face red with frustration.

Trace couldn’t stop the grin that tilted his lips, which only served to increase the severity of Gabe’s scowl. “Go home, Gabe. You and Miss Carson can straighten the files out next week.”

Claire might not be much of a secretary, but she sure was easy on the eyes. He blinked back the image of her bending over his desk. Damn! He had to stop doing that. Staying perpetually aroused was making him crazy.

“You find this whole situation amusing, don’t you?” Gabe’s eyes practically bulged with irritation. “When are you going to put a stop to this fiasco? When she’s passed along the wrong message and ruins a multimillion dollar merger?”

Trace lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, you’ve made your point. You can start reviewing the resumes Human Resources sent over. Give me two more weeks, and I’ll give Miss Carson her freedom.” Trace ran a hand through his hair feeling something akin to regret at the thought of letting her go. “She should have learned her lesson by then,” he added, more for Gabe’s benefit than his own.

“Two weeks,” Gabe repeated, the anger easing from his expression. “I can live with that, I suppose.” He pursed his thin lips and narrowed his eyes as if a brilliant idea had just occurred to him. “See you on Monday, Trace,” he said in a cryptic tone before turning away.

With a fleeting sense of uneasiness, Trace watched Gabe’s departure. He shook his head and chuckled. No telling what kind of brainstorm Gabe had just experienced. And he was right, keeping Claire around for too long wouldn’t be smart.

Trace licked his lips and tasted her.

For more reasons than one.

Chapter Four

“No,” Claire mumbled as she covered her head with her pillow. She didn’t want to hear it. Sleep, she needed to sleep. The annoying and persistent buzz of her cell dictated otherwise. Claire peeked from beneath her hiding place. The numbers on the digital clock read five a.m. Who would be calling her at such an ungodly hour? With a reluctant groan, Claire tossed the pillow aside. Her mother, maybe? She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Not likely, she decided. Her mother was in Seattle, and in Seattle it was three a.m. Definitely not her mother—unless there’d been an emergency...

“Hello,” Claire mumbled.

“Miss Carson?”

“Gabe?” Claire came instantly awake. Wasn’t he supposed to be leaving for Dallas this morning with Trace?

“Miss Carson, I’ve come down with a bug of some sort, and I can’t make the trip to Dallas.”

You called me at five in the morning to tell me your personal health problems?
Claire wanted to say, but didn’t. “I’m sorry to hear that, Gabe,” she said instead. “Is there something you need me to do for you?”

“The plane leaves at seven. I’ll send the car around for you at six-fifteen. The driver will give you the portfolio containing the presentation material. It’s a quick, simple introduction and overview of the agenda to follow. You won’t have any problem following the outline, it’s entirely self-explanatory.”

Claire sat straight up. She pushed her hair back from her face and glared at her cell as if it were an unfamiliar object. Slowly, she pressed it back against her ear. “You’re doing what?” She had to have heard wrong. Dreaming—that would explain it. She was dreaming. She’d have a good laugh about this when she really woke up.

“I know it’s short notice, Miss Carson,” he apologized. “But really, it can’t be helped. This meeting is of utmost importance. Trace absolutely has to have support. And there simply isn’t anyone else except you.”

She was awake, all right. Gabe’s last statement hung in the silence that followed. She suffered a twinge of guilt. She had, after all, caused the untimely departure of Walker’s previous secretary. She supposed that she couldn’t just leave him in the lurch. Besides, she’d never been to Dallas and...

What was she thinking? She couldn’t go across town with Trace Walker, much less to another state. Being alone with him was like playing with a lit fuse and dynamite—an explosion was inevitable. Not just any old explosion either—a powerful explosion of sexually stimulating hormones.

“I don’t know about this, Gabe.”

“Fine, I’ll just drag myself out with this hundred and two degree temp. Of course, first I’ll have to call my doctor and cancel the appointment I got him out of bed five minutes ago to make.”

Claire closed her eyes and released a defeated sigh. No matter that the entire situation was ridiculous or that Walker could hire any secretary he chose, the fact still remained that she was his secretary right now. And right now, duty called. “Okay, okay.”

She would regret this—she knew she would.

“Excellent,” Gabe said in a voice entirely too chipper for a man with a high fever.

Somehow Claire didn’t equate what she was about to do with the word excellent. The words that did come to mind didn’t bear repeating.

“There’s a business meeting today and a cocktail party tonight. You’ll be back before noon tomorrow. You’ll hardly know you were gone. Thanks so much, Miss Carson. I’m counting on you to cover for me.”

Claire muttered a response, closed her cell and sat, stunned, for a long moment. The detailed memory of that kiss she and Walker had shared assaulted her senses with savage force. His touch... his taste. The intensity of the heat that had flared between them. A shiver swept over her and she clutched the sheet to her breasts. The hardened peaks beneath the silk of her gown just another reminder of how out of control this situation had gotten. The mere thought of spending time with him made every feminine part of her tighten with anticipation. And the way the man kissed...

Mind-boggling.

Toe-curling.

She had to hand it to him, he certainly knew how to kiss a woman. How to make her burn with need. But she couldn’t think about that right now. She had to focus on the man—not his sexual expertise. Claire had a career to worry about. Romance was the farthest thing from her mind.

Maybe in a few years—but not today.