This Time, Forever (4 page)

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Authors: Pamela Britton

BOOK: This Time, Forever
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“Ms. Taylor will be right down.”

“Great,” Marley said.

“We're meeting with a woman?” Linc said as they turned away, Marley leading him to the sofa he'd noticed earlier. It was every bit as comfortable as he'd anticipated.

“Do you have a problem with that, Mr. Shepherd?”

“No, of course not,” he said, but she was teasing him. He relaxed. “I just thought we were meeting with the CEO.”

“Sharon
is
the CEO.”

Linc felt his brows lift. “Really.”

She laughed then. “Why, Linc Shepherd,” she said, her Charleston accent so pronounced that she sounded exactly like the Southern belle that, in fact, she was. “I had no idea you were such a sexist pig.”

“I'm not sexist,” he said. “Just surprised. And stop calling me sexist, would you? That's twice today. I'm not a blue-blooded gentleman who thinks women should stay home and raise babies.”

She looked suitably chastened. “No, I suppose you're not,” she said, but whatever else she was about to say was cut off by a woman's voice.

“Ms. Sizemore,” someone said. “How nice to finally meet you face-to-face.”

Linc found himself turning, his attention snagged by the stunningly beautiful woman who walked toward them, hand outstretched.

“Ms. Taylor,” Marley said. “It's good to finally put a face with the name, too.”

The moment the woman released her hand, she was turning to him and Linc recognized the look in the woman's eyes as one he'd seen countless times before.

Blatant invitation.

This woman had more than sponsoring him in mind, which is why he uttered a silent
uh-oh.

CHAPTER FOUR

“M
S
. T
AYLOR,
this is Linc Shepherd,” Marley said, something coiling deep in her stomach at the look in the woman's eyes. If Linc had been an ice cream cone, it was obvious Sharon Taylor would have gobbled him up.

She released a breath of impatience. This might be a long day.

“Call me Sharon,” she said with a smile. She had a mole next to her mouth. Marley thought it looked like a tick.

“How do you do, Sharon?” Linc said, his smile seeming to be abashed—as if he were embarrassed by the woman's obvious interest.

“Thank you for meeting with us today,” Marley said, wondering what to do. Should she inject herself between Linc and Sharon? Try to tell the woman with her eyes to back off? Leave it alone? “Linc's really excited about meeting some of your staff,” she added.

She spared Marley a glance for about 1.5 milliseconds, the blond ponytail she wore flicking back and forth as she moved her head.

“And we're excited to have him,” Sharon said, drawing up to her full height. She must have been six feet tall—she stood almost eye to eye with Linc—her sleek body shown to advantage in a black business suit. Unlike Marley who was barely average height. “And might I
just say, I'm a really huge fan, Mr. Shepherd. I was so saddened by your accident. How's the leg feeling, by the way?”

She touched his upper arm—as if in sympathy—but Marley saw the way her thumb lightly stroked Linc's bare flesh.

“It's fine,” he said, his eyes snagging Marley's attention. Clearly, he'd spotted the interest in Ms. Taylor's eyes, too. “Thanks for asking.”

“I'm so glad to hear that. We wouldn't want any lingering issues getting in the way of your driving now, would we?”

It wasn't the words that set Marley's teeth on edge—after all, as a potential sponsor, she had a right to ask such a question—it was more the look on her face. She seemed about ready to volunteer her services should Linc need physical therapy.

Yeesh.

“Who are we meeting with today?” Marley asked, trying to refocus the conversation on the matter at hand.

“Just me,” Sharon said brightly.

Therein ensued what was, for Marley, a painful hour while she was forced to endure Sharon's false enthusiasm (or
was
it false?). When it was time to break for lunch, Marley couldn't get out of there fast enough.

“You sure you don't want to grab a bite to eat with us?” Marley felt compelled to ask.

“I wish I could,” Sharon said with a disappointed smile. “But we'll connect again in about an hour when I take Linc on a tour of one of our stores. Afterwards we'll head out for dinner.”

Marley had known that was the plan. Still, she was
forced to sound excited as she said, “No problem. We'll see you in an hour, then.”

But the moment they stepped into the warm sunshine she couldn't stop herself from saying, “Jeesh. I think I just witnessed the world record. I've never seen a woman bat her eyelashes more times in the space of an hour.” Marley stabbed the unlock button on her key chain more forcefully than necessary.

“Really?” Linc said, sounding surprised. “I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.”

That stopped Marley in her tracks. “You're kidding, right?” she asked, but they were forced to move forward when a car headed toward them. They stopped in front of her car, Marley handing the keys to Linc absently. “Linc,” Marley mimicked. “I'm you're biggest fan.”

Linc laughed. “She didn't say that.”

Marley's teeth ground in irritation. “No,” Marley reluctantly admitted. “Not those words exactly, but she couldn't have been more obvious. She has the hots for you.”

“Does not,” Linc said as he headed for the driver's side door.

Marley didn't move. “You've got to be joking. You're telling me you didn't notice.”

“No,” Linc said, opening the door and sliding inside.

Marley had no choice but to do the same, but once she'd settled into the slick leather seat and pulled on her seat belt, she muttered, “Then you're blind.”

Linc laughed again. “And you're sounding awfully jealous.”

She jerked upright so hard the seat belt checked her
in the neck. She grimaced and pulled the thing away from her skin. “Don't be ridiculous.”

“Where are we going?” he asked.

She waved a hand imperiously. “I don't care. You decide. Something fast. I wouldn't want you to be late for Little Miss Biggest Fan.”

He rested a hand on the steering wheel and turned toward her. “You really don't like her, do you?”

Marley drew back. It finally registered that she sounded like a jealous harpy. Lord help her. Half a day in the man's company had her right back where she'd started years ago…lusting after Linc Shepherd.

You are
not
lusting after him.

But wasn't she? Just a tiny bit? If she were honest with herself she'd have to admit she found him sexy. Frankly, she really didn't blame Sharon for batting her lashes at him.

“I'm just worried she might have an ulterior motive in wanting to sponsor you.”

He still didn't start the car. Marley hoped that he would, and that he'd drop the subject. Because the way he was looking at her sent a frisson of awareness through her that had her wishing she could roll down her window.

“You're worried I find Sharon attractive.”

“I am not!”

He smirked.

“Linc, stop it,” she said, sitting upright and straightening her jacket. “I'm no more worried about that than I am jealous. Now. Let's get going. We only have an hour.” Dratted man
still
didn't start the car.

“You still want me.”

Her entire body burst into flames, from the tip of her toes to the top of her needed-some-new-highlights hair. “Let's go,” she repeated, deadpan.

“You still want me and you're angry that someone else wants me, too.”

“Linc—”

He covered her mouth with his hands. Marley gasped, drew back. He followed her, the scent of his fingers filling her nostrils. Hand soap. That's what he smelled like.

“Face it, you're still smitten with me.”

She shook her head.

He smirked.

She darted sideways, all but yelling, “Don't touch me.”

That was when he decided to start the car. Marley heard his deep chuckle over the sound of the engine.

“This is turning out to be an interesting day.”

“I mean it, Linc, if you ever touch me like that again…” But he backed the car out of its parking spot so fast she found herself yelping in surprise.

“What?” he asked, giving her a movie star grin.

“What will you do?”

“Ask Gil to have you fired.”

He shook his head. “You won't do that.”

“Yes, I will.”

“Because if you do,” he said, droning on as if she'd never spoken, “you'll have to admit the reason why.” He wagged his eyebrows at her devilishly.

“I refuse to discuss the matter with you further.”

“Because you know I'm right.”

“Just drive,” she said, fed up with the situation.

Humiliation. That's what she felt. Because deep down she knew he was right.

“Should we just skip lunch and head right to a hotel?”

That did it.

“Stop it,” she said firmly. “I don't know what makes you think I haven't outgrown my crush on you, but I have. So, please, let's do our best to keep things on a professional level, okay? My job is to find you a sponsor, and come hell or high water, I'm going to do that. But if you make this difficult for me, if you insist on giving me grief about my past, I'll hand your sponsorship problem over to another person, someone less qualified. Someone who might not succeed where I will.”

The words had the desired effect. She saw his mouth tighten, the smile evaporating like water on hot asphalt.

“That sounded suspiciously like a threat,” he said.

“It was.”

He pulled onto the main road. “Where to?” he asked again.

“Anywhere,” she said.

And wished anywhere could be far away from him. Despite her show of bravado, Marley knew she wouldn't do as she threatened. She was too much of a professional for that. But she'd had to get him to stop. If he'd kept up his teasing, she might have done something foolish, like tell him he was right.

She still wanted him. Badly.

But she could never admit that. Not now. Not ever. She'd already made a fool of herself over him once before. She refused to do so again.

 

T
HE VISIT
to the local Shelter Home Improvement store proved to be as difficult to endure as their first meeting with Sharon. But the difficulty was no doubt compounded by the tension between her and Linc. They'd managed to get through their lunch, despite the fact that Marley had lost her appetite. But they were
both
on edge as they finished up the tour.

“I'll see you later tonight,” Sharon said with a wide smile as they stood outside the store.

“Thank you so much for your time.” Linc smiled politely.

“You're welcome,” Sharon said, her eyes sliding up and down Linc in a way that made Marley want to shout, “See! See what she just did!”

But Marley couldn't do that. Instead she moved forward and held out her hand. “See you at dinner tonight.”

She was beyond relieved when they were finally allowed to walk away.

“Whew, I'm glad that's over,” Linc said when they were outside and on their way to Marley's car—no, unofficially Linc's car—as the sun started to sink beneath the horizon. “You were right,” Linc said. “Sharon's interest in me
is
more than professional.”

Marley drew up short. “You see it now?”

Linc nodded. “I do.”

Her shoulders went slack with relief. “I'm so glad to hear you say that.”

“I thought for sure she'd hand me her phone number before we left,” Linc said.

“She was something else all right.”

They were in a shadow, and Linc's afternoon razor stubble more pronounced. Damn, but he was sexy-
looking. She blinked, then immediately chastised herself for having such a thought.

Not again, remember? she reminded herself.

“Oh, well,” Linc said. “At least we get a free dinner.”

Marley nodded. They were eating at The Plantation, a posh restaurant located along the outskirts of Atlanta. A former tobacco farm, the owners had converted the two-story antebellum mansion into one of the city's best restaurants, with spacious suites upstairs, excellent food…at least according to the website.

“Maybe we should make the best of it,” Marley said.

“Truce?” Linc asked, holding out a hand.

Marley stared at the limb, remembering the way his fingers felt against her mouth. Her body warmed up all over again. “Truce,” she said, taking his hand.

It felt like clasping an electric fence. Marley had never touched him before, not like this. Their eyes connected. Marley saw his lashes flicker, quickly, but then he was looking away and stepping back.

“I suppose we should head on over to The Plantation and check in,” he said. He didn't wait for a response, just made a beeline for the car. Marley was left standing there wondering what had just happened.

Had he felt it, too?

It sure seemed that way, at least judging by the look in his eyes. Something had sparked in the depths of his gray eyes, something that'd made adrenaline rush through Marley's veins.

The drive over was quiet, Marley trying her best to think of something to say. In the end she gave up. If he didn't want to talk, she wouldn't push it.

A few minutes later they pulled into a long drive lined by ancient trees. Sharon had suggested they stay there and Marley could understand why. The lavish interior with its twenty-foot ceilings featured a number of extravagant floral arrangements that took her breath away, one smack in the middle of the marble foyer. A black-clad lobby attendant pointed them toward the reservation desk. She was never more glad than when the hotel checked them in quickly.

“I'll meet you here in two hours.” She handed Linc his own room key.

“Marley,” he said softly.

Her whole body reacted to the timbre of his voice. The way he'd said her name…it sounded almost like a plea. When she looked into his eyes she saw something in his gaze, something that she'd never seen before. Desire?

Her heart began to pound. “Yes?”

But as quickly as the look came, it faded. “Thanks for doing this for me,” he said.

That wasn't what he'd been about to say. She would bet her life on it. “You're welcome,” she said.

“I mean it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You're really good at your job.”

“Thank you,” she said.

Had
that been interest in his eyes? Was it possible?

Could he be attracted to her?

“I'll see you later,” he said, turning and walking away before she could reply.

“Yeah,” she heard herself mutter as she watched him disappear from view. “Later.”

 

A
FTER TWO HOURS PASSED
, an anxious Marley left her room with her heart in her throat. Every time she recalled the look in Linc's eyes, her pulse began to pound.

That had been interest in his eyes. She was certain of it.

She found Linc standing by the entrance to the restaurant, his black pants hugging a body still honed by fitness, despite his injuries.

“Hi,” she said softly.

“Hello,” he said right back, eyeing her up and down.

And, okay, she could admit it. She'd dressed up for him. When she'd packed this morning she'd grabbed a dress that she knew set her figure off to advantage. It was black with a neckline that showed enough to snag a man's interest, but not so much that it could be deemed unprofessional.

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