ProvokeMe (22 page)

Kelly slipped inside and shut the door, leaning against it
for a long moment while they eyed each other.
She wore a scoop-neck top that
showcased her graceful neck and highlighted the alluring dips around her
collarbone he loved to nibble.
He’d never seen her look quite so daisy fresh.

If he didn’t look too closely at the shadows under her eyes.

“You need to get more sleep.”

She set the lunch sack on his blotter and then eased up on
the desk, staying on the opposite side.
As her scent wafted over him, his cock
nudged his zipper, already expecting attention.
One sniff of her was all it
took.

“And sacrifice the few hours we have alone?” She shook her
head.
“Not gonna happen.
Besides, who are you to talk?”

Excellent point.
He’d never been one to get a full eight,
but his recent pace was insane.
Three hours’ sleep was a good night lately.

He sent the email he’d just completed and swiveled his chair
toward her.
“We’ll both get a chance to rectify that this week.”

Deliberately he kept his gaze steady on hers.
He waited to
see any of the usual female guilt tricks—downcast eyes, a quivering frown, even
a resigned sigh.
Once those started, the door began looking mighty appealing.
But she only nodded, her gaze clear and direct.

“I’ve missed my bed,” she admitted.
“Yours does weird things
to my back.” She danced her fingertips over his knuckles, sending heat straight
into his balls.
“Or maybe it’s you who’s screwed up my back.
You do tend to be
awfully…enthusiastic.”

He barely heard the last part.
She missed her bed?
When had
a woman ever said that to him before?

“Well, anytime you want a change of venue, let me know.
You’re the one who refuses to let me inside your apartment.”

She flashed him a relaxed smile.
She couldn’t have been
further from the edgy, desperate woman he’d had sex with in his home office
that morning if she tried.
“Testy, testy.
I bet you’re hungry.
Have you eaten
today?”

“No.” He shoved a hand through his hair and caught her
staring.
“What?”

“Spencer Galvin, that looked suspiciously like a nervous tic
to me.”

“Yeah, yeah.
So I happened to look at your file this
morning.” He shuffled papers on his desk then glanced up to see her watching
him.
“Your birthday’s next week.”

“You don’t say.”

Under her usual sarcasm he heard an edge.
“Not a fan of
birthdays?”

“Not particularly.” She gave a jerky shrug.
“They were never
a big deal in my family.
My parents are in Sedona right now, singing love songs
and playing guitar, so I’ll probably be on my own.
I’m kind of used to them not
being around,” she added quickly.
“Actually I prefer it.”

Uh huh.
“Singing love songs in Sedona?
Didn’t we
leave the sixties behind a while ago?”

“They’ve never grown out of their hippie stage.” Another
shrug.
“It suits them.”

He leaned back in his chair.
“Imagining you coming from
granola-eating beatniks with guitars is a hard sell.
Sure you’re not adopted?”

“That’s a question I think they’ve wondered themselves.
They
spent so much time high it’s possible they don’t even know.” She smiled
brightly, too brightly, as if she’d just told the funniest joke in the world.
But her eyes revealed her pain.

He leaned forward and laid a hand on her thigh.
“I could
come back for your birthday.
Just for the night.
I could rearrange—” Her
surprised expression stopped him.
What was he saying?

“No, no need for that.
Thanks though.
I’m sure birthdays
bring back bad memories for you.” She tipped her head sideways and
flirtatiously batted her lashes.
“Since you’ve had so many of them and all.”

He knew she was trying to snow him but it was difficult to
think straight when she was looking at him like that.
The more she teased him,
the harder he got.
She’d slicked her mouth with gloss and he couldn’t go
another second without feeling her wet lips under his.

“Come here.”

She reached forward and tugged his tie, pulling him to his
feet.
“No,
you
come here.”

He gripped her chin and seized her mouth in a hot, deep
kiss.
Damn, she tasted like heaven.
She tangled her fingers in his hair,
angling toward him until he heard something hit the floor.
Didn’t know what,
didn’t care.
He slipped his hand under her top, already anticipating the feel
of her warm, soft breast in his palm.
Her nipple straining, yearning and tight
between his fingers—

“Hey, Spence.
Want some lunch?”

Kelly shoved him back so hard he nearly crashed into his
computer.
With his brain still careening from the kiss, he stared at his sister
in the doorway, sure he should be doing something other than laughing.

He was fucking
laughing
.

Now Marcia wasn’t the only one gazing at him.
Kelly was too
as she struggled to pull down her shirt.

“Don’t bother,” he said, attempting to compose himself.
“She
can figure it out.”

Marcia stepped farther into the room and closed the door.
“Guess you took my advice, huh, bro?”

“Bro?” Kelly’s head swung back and forth between them so
fast she’d soon have a sore neck to go with her sore back.
“Did she just call
you
bro
?”

“I figured he’d told you.” Marcia smirked.
“Since you’re so
close and all now.”

“No.
I didn’t.
Thanks for doing the honors.” He dropped into
his chair and clicked on the email that had appeared in his inbox.
As soon as
he had, he wished he hadn’t.

The Sinclairs would be in town this weekend.
Diana’s
parents.
Fabulous.
He hadn’t seen them in person for months.
They had something
important to discuss with him.
Was he free for dinner tomorrow night?

He rubbed his forehead and wondered how many more ways he
could split himself before he had nothing left to give.

“Let me get this straight.
Marcia’s your sister.
As in you
share a bloodline and parents and Christmases around the tree.”

“Can’t you see the family resemblance?
We’re both strikingly
gorgeous.” Marcia answered for him since he’d yet to drag his attention from
the computer screen.
“We don’t always do the Christmas thing in any formal way,
since our parents and our younger brother live in Florida now.
Hard to get us
all in one spot, but—Spence, what the hell is so damn interesting on that
screen?”

“The Sinclairs are in town.
Want to have dinner tomorrow
night,” he said shortly.

“Oh.” A pause.
“Alone?”

He knew what she was asking but he didn’t have an answer.
Diana had left the company years ago to work on her marriage, far from the
“stresses” of a high-powered, demanding job.
Which was doublespeak for far away
from him and the job she’d given up to keep him quiet.

Yesterday he’d heard talk that Diana was back in town.
He
hoped to hell it was just gossip.

His glance shot to Kelly.
Her cheeks were still pink from
their kiss.
She looked soft and sweet and completely beyond his scope.

He’d gone down this road before.
One would think he’d learn.

“I don’t know,” he said, closing the email without
answering.
“Did you need something, Marsh?”

“Just wanted to see if you were up for coming out to lunch.
But I see you’re staying in.
So I’ll leave you alone.”

When she shut the door behind her, he closed his eyes and
leaned against his headrest.
Had he ever been so bone-wearyingly tired?
And
since when did he host his own pity parties?

“Yes, Marcia’s my sister,” he said after a moment.
“Yes, I
would’ve told you, if I thought it concerned us.
It’s not really a secret.
We
just don’t go around telling every new employee who strolls in the door.
Marsh
asked me due to some events that occurred here to not advertise our connection
and I do my best to abide by her wishes.”

Talk about a nice way to put it.
She’d all but screamed in
his face when his affair with Diana had blown up that if he wanted to fucking
end his career, he wouldn’t kill hers too.

When he’d ended up with the RM position, she hadn’t changed
her stance.
To her mind, it had been touch and go and she didn’t want to be
painted with his dirty brush.

“Oh, back to the infamous
situation
.
Must’ve been
pretty big to have you still shaking in your loafers.”

He narrowed his eyes but didn’t address her comment.
He knew
all too well her tendency to strike out like a wounded rattler when her
feelings were hurt.
What good would it do to dredge up all that business with
Diana?
It was over.
It had nothing to do with them.

“Marcia uses her ex-husband’s name and we don’t make an
issue out of our relationship,” he said evenly.
“It’s no big deal.”

“To you it’s not.
I get no say.
Is that correct?”

“About this, no.
It’s not relevant.
Go ahead,” he said when
silence reigned.
“You know you want to bite my head off.
Just get it over
with.”

“No point.
I understand perfectly.
Keeping secrets is
another way of holding on to control.
If you’re the one with all the cards,
you’re the one who wins.
If anyone’s still playing.”

Startled at the accuracy of the jab, he started to rise as
she closed the door behind her.
She didn’t slam it, but the echo reverberated
just the same.

Spencer stared at the lunch sack on his desk.
Great.
How
many more ways could he fuck up in one day?

He turned back to his email.
He was about to find out.

Chapter Thirteen

“I’m not in the mood to go out to dinner, Lan.
Not tonight.”

Kelly pushed aside the box of macadamia chocolate chip
cookies she’d been eating for the last twenty minutes.
In less than a week,
she’d gained three pounds.
If she kept up this stress eating, she wouldn’t have
to worry about her lack of curves ever again.

“It’s important.
I have news.
Kel, please.
I guarantee
you’ll want to see who’s coming with me.”

“Oh fab.
You’re bringing a date and I get to be the clunky
third wheel.”

“So bring Spencer.”

Kelly laughed.
As if.
“Spencer and I are no longer…”
She sighed.
“No longer.
That’s all.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.
He wants me in strictly one way, which would be
fine if I hadn’t suddenly gone all hormonal over him.
It’s not as if he lied
about his intentions.
I guess I was just fooling myself.
Based on what, I don’t
know.”

Alana would probably think she was overreacting about the
sister thing.
But it wasn’t just that.
Spencer wouldn’t tell her what he had
for lunch without her prying it out of him.
Did she honestly want to live like
that?
Moving on now before she fell any deeper would be smarter all around.

She’d scratched her itch.
Sort of.
And if she watched his
ass when he walked past her at work, she was entitled.

“Give it a couple days.
He might come around.
He, uh, sounds
a little Type-A from how you described him.”

“Yeah, just a tad.”

Kelly whisked the cookie crumbs from her fingers and clicked
off the TV.
She wasn’t paying much attention to the soap rerun anyway.
She had
enough melodrama in her own life between her sick infatuation with her boss and
dealing with her immediate supervisor, who’d shot her sly looks all afternoon.

Too bad she and Spencer hadn’t been fucking on the desk when
Marcia walked in.
His sister would’ve had fodder for the rest of the year.

His freaking sister.
She
still
couldn’t believe it.

“I’ve been there.
You know that.
How many losers have I
chased after?”

She almost said
Spencer’s not a loser
but she didn’t.
She’d be damned if she defended him.
“A lot.”

“But that’s over now.
And I want you to see why.
You have to
come out tonight, Kelly.”

“If you tell me you’re engaged to Ramon, I’m going to kick
your ass.”

Alana only laughed.
“Retreat.
Eight p.m.
Be there.
It’ll be
worth your while.
This is the surprise to end all surprises!”

Kelly found herself smiling as she hung up.
Her best friend
sounded genuinely happy.
Good for her.
She really hoped that happiness didn’t
have to do with that skunk Ramon—who she’d never liked—but if it did, far be it
for her to criticize.
Her own life sucked donkey balls, so who was she to
judge?

With about as much enthusiasm as a woman about to be hanged,
she dragged herself down the hall to the bathroom.
She scrubbed herself liberally
with her kiwi-strawberry shower gel and matching shampoo.
After she’d dried off
and blow-dried her hair, she settled on the second of her new acquisitions, a
sexy little scarlet dress.
The color brought a nice flush to her skin and made
her eyes look bright.

Talk about an amazing feat.

Makeup and hair came next.
Somehow she managed to twist up
her short bob into a semblance of an updo and she liberally applied mascara,
shadow and gloss.

Not bad.
She turned in front of the mirror.
She looked…well,
on the make.
But that was okay.
At least she’d damn well be the hottest third
wheel ever.

Only problem?
She couldn’t close her stupid dress.

When the front door buzzer went off, she was attempting to
turn herself into a pretzel to reach her zipper.
She wasn’t nearly flexible
enough.
Plus her back really did hurt.
Maybe she should pop some aspirin before
she left.

Right now she had to see who was ringing the hell out of her
bell.

She didn’t ask who it was.
First mistake.
As she pulled the
door open and saw Spencer, her second was not slamming it in his face.

Then again, that she couldn’t move for a full thirty seconds
kinda inhibited any such gestures.

“Hey.” He slipped his hands in his pockets and rocked back
and forth on his heels as if he were powered by an invisible motor.
“Thought
maybe we could get some dinner.”

All at once, he seemed to notice her attire.
His jaw landed
on the floor near her composure.
“Headed out for the night?”

Her mind whirled.
She was half tempted to say she was going
to Kink.
Or out with some amazing man, maybe Paul.
He’d stand in as a good
imaginary boyfriend.
Spencer would buy that too.
He’d seen the way Paul had
eaten her up—without benefit of a spoon—the night before.

But as usual, the lies wouldn’t come.
“I have a dinner
engagement,” she said after a moment.

When he charged into her foyer, she stepped back to avoid
being mowed down.
“With whom?”

“I’m not sure that’s any of your concern.”

“Fuck yeah, it’s my concern.
What happened to your one-man
woman speech?”

And so commenced the swearing.
It was almost funny to learn
how he worked.
“I don’t have a man.
You’ve made that clear.” She gave him her
most fake smile, the one she’d modeled after Leigh.
If any woman knew how to
look completely insincere, it was her.
“Now if you wouldn’t mind—”

“I do.
I mind very much.” He started to reach for her, but
he stopped when she held up a hand.

“Nope.
Paws off.” She drew a triangle around her body.
“This
area is now officially off-limits.”

Instead of rolling his eyes as she’d expected—she knew she
sounded just a little ridiculous—he cocked an eyebrow and rocked some more.
“You really are angry.”

“No, I’ve just wised up.
You and I are wrong.
We’re every
shade of wrong in the damn rainbow.
I have no desire to turn into some sort of
emotionally stifled—”

“I came here to ask you to dinner, Kelly.
Out in public.
Wherever you want to go.” He cleared his throat.
“An actual date, sex
optional.”

“Thanks, but I have plans.” She opened the door, shifting
out of the way when he slammed it closed.
She blew out a breath.
“I’m not
arguing with you, Spencer.
You want things your way.
Well, bully for you.
I’m
doing things my way now.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.
What more do you want from
me?”

The quiet admission broke her.
If he’d come at her with more
bluster, she’d have turned her back on him without a qualm.
Okay, there would
have been qualms, but they would have come later.
But this…she hadn’t expected
honesty.
And she didn’t know what to say.

He moved closer and sniffed her hair.
“You smell like fruit
tonight.
Not flowers.”

“I’m a woman of many sides,” she said, hoping like hell her
voice sounded normal.
She was surprised he’d even noticed.
“And body washes.”

“It’s nice.”

“No, please, the flattery.
It’s too much.”

“You look beautiful.” When she turned, his mouth curved as
he eyed her from head-to-toe.
“You’re so…tall.”

She couldn’t restrain her laugh.
“Why, thank you for
noticing.”

“It’s those damn short dresses you keep wearing.
Your legs
look long enough to—”

“Wrap around your neck?” she asked sweetly when he faltered.

He gifted her with one of his rare true smiles.
At least
they’d been rare before this week.
He was smiling more and more now.
She hoped
it was because of her, but even assuming that seemed like too big a leap.
“Something like that.”

Her fingers skimmed up his slate-gray tie, plucked at the
tidy knot.
As much as she loved seeing him disheveled and sweaty, his
buttoned-up look had always worked well for her too.

She swallowed deeply.
If she didn’t give him a chance, she
was no better than he was.
She also didn’t know how to turn him away, not when
he was here in her foyer and so handsome she wanted to cry.
Or laugh.

“I’m having dinner with friends.
You’re welcome to join us.”

“You dressed up like that for friends?”

“Mmm-hmm.” She clucked her tongue on the roof of her mouth.
“Maybe I was feeling a little lonely, a little pissed off.”

“Because we’re so wrong?” He traced his fingertip over her
collarbone, barely touching her.
“And if we are, why can’t we stop?”

“Easy access to good sex addles even the best brains.” With
a casual shrug, she stepped away.

Spencer cupped her elbow and shifted her back.
In the dim
glow from the living room, his face was nearly unreadable.
“It’s not just sex,
Kelly.”

Her heart didn’t skip and her breath didn’t catch.
But her
knees weakened, literally.
“So come to dinner.”

He moved in and slid his hands up her spine.
Only when she
heard her zipper did she realize he was closing her dress.
“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Clearly amused, he nodded.
“Yeah.
I’ll go.
Where?”

“Retreat.”

For the first time since she’d known him, his eyes actually
lit.
She thought maybe she imagined it, but when they moved into the living
room, his expression didn’t change.
“They have the best chocolate cake.”

“You have a sweet tooth?” she asked, picking up her purse
off the coffee table.

“Why do you think I work out so much?”

Now
this
was surprising information.
She remembered
the bag of Twizzlers she’d found on his desk and smiled.
“Because you’re
hopelessly anal?”

He dipped his hands in his pockets.
“Keep it up and I won’t
share my cake.”

“Oh you’ll share.
You’ll share whatever I ask you to.” She
patted his stomach and strolled past him.
Did he have any clue how much effort
it took for her to act as if he didn’t turn her world upside down?
“You can
drive.”

* * * * *

Spencer didn’t expect to enjoy himself.
He also didn’t
expect to enjoy watching Kelly quite so much.
She tried to pretend she could
handle anything but her knuckles whitened on the strap of her purse when they
walked into the restaurant together.
For an instant, nerves dimmed the flush in
her cheeks as her friend Alana rushed toward her.
Kelly recovered quickly but
glimpsing the man at Alana’s side sent such a riot of emotions over her face
Spencer had to battle back his jealousy.

Apparently she, Alana and Carter had been friends in high
school.
The way she and Carter, or “Nicky” as she called him, hugged he half
expected her to start fumbling for a tissue.
Whatever Kelly was, “emotionally
stifled” wasn’t it.
She shared herself openly.
Not with everyone, and she still
employed methods to keep people at a distance—men, specifically.
Why else would
she make her relationships so cut and dried by making a list?
And then ranking
the guys as if they were consumable goods.

Nice ass.
Plus one.
Bad breath.
Minus two.
Not that he knew
her system—nor would he lower himself to ask—but he could only imagine.
With
her friends at least she seemed genuine and willing to bare all.