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“I’m here,” I say. “You know, I could swing by for a lunch date. We could close your office door—”
“Make fake sex sounds to get my staff talking?” The humor in his tone sounds forced, but it’s a step in the right direction. At least he’s not focused on Alexandra’s interview anymore.
“That won’t work,” I say. “You’re horrible at faking an orgasm. You didn’t even try last time.”
“Everyone has an Achilles Heel,” he muses.
“We need to give them something real to listen to.”
“Kayla,” he growls. “How soon can you get here?”
“One hour.”
I stand and pull on Luna’s leash, ready to run back to Gavin’s building and prepare for our date. This is what I want—wild, passionate office sex with a billionaire. “And Gavin?”
“Yes?”
This doesn’t solve our problems.
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But I’m guessing he knows that. And if he doesn’t, well now, after he’s watched his ex-girlfriend call our fake engagement a sham on national TV is not the time to tell him we’re in over our heads.
“Call Margaret while you wait. We need her best private investigators looking into Alexandra. It’s time, Gavin. We need to fight back.”
“Already in motion,” he says. “I spoke to her before I called you. Margaret anticipated the request. She’s had a PI looking into Alexandra for two days now. We should have a report soon.”
“She’s amazing.”
“Stop thinking about Margaret and get your butt to my office.”
“One hour,” I say again. “And afterward you need to take me to lunch. Someplace public.”
“Sounds fair. If I get to strip off your panties and feast on you while you sit on my desk, I should probably give you something to eat in return.”
“Gavin.” The scene plays out in my imagination like a homemade sex tape. All of the questions about our future fade away. We’ll find our way out of this mess. We always do. But first, I have a lunch date.
“Yes, Kayla?”
“I’m not planning to wear panties.”
CHAPTER 18
GAVIN
“I’ve spent the last hour and six minutes thinking about your underwear,” I say. Yeah, I know that’s not the traditional, welcome-to-my-office greeting. But today I’m going for truth over the mundane.
I abandon my desk and head for the door. Through the open doorway, I see heads turned in my direction. Every person within earshot probably heard me admit that I haven’t exactly been working for the past hour, but I don’t care right now. My world is spinning out of control, and I’m distracted by Kayla’s panties—or lack thereof.
She steps inside as I push the door closed and turn the lock. Her full lips press together as if she’s biting back a laugh.
Damn, I want to kiss her.
My gaze drops to her oversized sweatshirt. It’s one fashion step above an I Love Cats shirt.
“I wonder—”
“Why you wore jeans instead of a skirt?” I interrupt.
