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“I’m curious about something.” He sipped wine to set the conversational mood, which would serve to put her at ease. “What do you hope to get from this expo? Professionally?”
Surprise flew into her expression. “Exposure, of course.”
He grinned in spite of the strange tension between them. “I realize that. I mean, what are your goals? Fifteen percent increase in orders? By when? What’s the measure of your cost investment versus payoff? That sort of thing.”
“Why do you want to know?”
Her tone sounded the opposite of someone letting their guard down.
“Because I’m interested in you,” he blurted out. Too touchy-feely and now he felt as if he’d stepped in quicksand. Backpedal. “And on the off chance the expo is canceled, I’d like to know what your losses will be.”
Better. Keep it about work. That he understood.
“I don’t need you to cover them, if that’s where you’re headed.”
“No, that wasn’t my intent at all.” He downed half his wine in hopes it would get his brain and tongue in sync or at least dull his wits enough to not care how badly he was botching this.
Maybe he should shut up and kiss her. They’d never had problems communicating that way. But the vibe was so weird, he hesitated. Besides, he’d told her to stop assuming all he cared about was sex—and somehow they were at a place where that remained true, so he should practice what he preached.
After a deep breath, he tried again. “Businesses intrigue me. The flow of capital, margins, profit-loss statements. Spreadsheets are my crack. It’s why I like consulting, because I can dig into what makes a company live and breathe from a ten-thousand-foot view. When we dated before, our common interests were always other things. Now we have something new in common. I want to talk to you about it.”
The tension melted from her face. “Keith, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Uh...what?” He watched her as she set her glass down on the table, gaze squarely on him. And it was noticeably warmer. Then she rose and skirted the table to lean over and kiss him soundly on the lips.
He was too busy trying to not stare down her still-damp dress to kiss her back, but then she touched his cheek in a brief caress and thoroughly ensnared him with the expression on her face. He couldn’t look away.
“You basically said that you see me as an equal. That’s the best compliment you could have given me. Thank you.” She settled into the love seat instead of returning to her chair and swirled her fingertips across the next cushion in blatant invitation.
That was some magic wine he’d selected. He switched seats gladly, still clueless how his neurotic love of entrepreneurship had somehow shifted the mood.
“The truth is,” she drawled, “I don’t have good projections for this expo. I have enough of a marketing background to know that exposure is king, but difficult to quantify. I’d love to have some solid numbers, but it’s hard to be the CEO, CFO, chief marketing officer and actually get around to designing dresses at the same time.”
“I’ll help you,” he offered instantly, surreptitiously inhaling her exotic perfume. “It’ll be fun. Really.”
Exotic with enough of Cara laced through it to thoroughly intoxicate him. He couldn’t remember a blessed thing about what kind of perfume she’d worn before. Because he’d never noticed it. Not like this, as if it was part of the full, potent package of the woman.
She rolled her eyes without malice. “Only you would call that fun. It’s an interesting proposition. I’d kill for your expertise, but in lieu of that, I’d pay for it. Name your price.”
“No strings attached.” And he meant it. “I insist. It’ll be a thank-you for helping me out earlier.”
It was the least he could do, and it made him pathetically grateful to have a concrete way to repay her for organizing the mock wedding. And for helping with the room inventory. And for her freely given forgiveness, which he hadn’t realized would come to mean so much.
“Wow. If I’d have known that would be the reward, I’d have volunteered to clean the oven with my tongue.” She slid a glance down his torso. “But I can’t let you do it for free. I insist on tit for tat. If you won’t take money, what other form of barter could we possibly cook up?”
Instantly, the strange first-date, why-was-she-here vibe vanished and everything fell into place.
