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“I was on my seventh drink of the night when you found me and I was sitting all by myself. I don’t think I’m qualified as a relationship expert, that’s all,” she said, taking another mouthful of cake.
“I’m going to make a note in my phone every time I do something that works, and when I do something that doesn’t. Suggestions?”
“Put the flowers and the cake down in the plus column,” she said, licking coffee buttercream off her knuckle, “in fact put the cake down twice. It’s that incredible. Thoughtful, personal, and also with chocolate. Those are three things you need on your master list—do things for her that are thoughtful, personal and chocolaty.”
To his credit, Brandon typed away on his touchscreen as if it were prophecy coming from her lips instead of dating pointers. She listed the candles, the flower petals, the dimmed lighting as pluses and he admitted the hotel had done that with no special instruction from him. She scooped some buttercream up with her fingertip and offered it to him playfully.
“No, thanks. I rarely eat sweets.”
“Okay,” she said, licking the frosting herself, “that goes in the negative column. If she offers you anything to eat, especially off some part of her body, it’s an automatic yes.”
“I’m diabetic.”
“Oh, well, shit. Never mind. But weren’t you drinking? At the bar?”
“I was about to lose everything. I think I had every right to drink tonight.”
“Ah. So how come we got married and I didn’t know something like this?”
“Because we knew each other perhaps thirty minutes before we got a marriage license.”
“It was longer than that.”
“I don’t know that much about you. Maybe we should swap crucial information in case we’re questioned.”
“Immigration isn’t going to come after us, Cates. We’re both citizens. Aren’t we?”
“Yes. I just mean for believability’s sake.”
“Fine. I’ll go first. Favorite color is purple, favorite drink is Cabernet, favorite vacation spot is the beach, favorite movie is anything with zombies in it, favorite author is Nicholas Sparks—do not judge me on that!”
“I would’ve guessed wrong. I figured you for a Fifty Shades girl.”
“Ugh, no. That’s not romance.”
“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a romance reader at all.”
“Then you would’ve pegged me wrong. So what about you?”
“I like Jack London, those ‘man against nature’ reality shows, color, I don’t really care, vacation spot would be Thailand.”
“Not bothered about pesky things like human rights?”
“Not bothered by zombies eating people’s brains?” he countered.
“Fair enough.”
Marj ran a hand through his gorgeous locks. “I want you so bad, I can’t stand it.”
With that, Brandon Cates swept back Marj’s auburn hair and kissed her neck. Sparks of desire slithered up her body, a chill tingling through her as the touch of his hot mouth made every nerve ending stand at attention. She stroked his chest, working at the buttons of his shirt until it hung open to reveal his flesh.
He was lean and strong, not heavily muscled like Luke had been—Luke with his gym membership and his vanity and the set of hand weights he kept under his desk to squeeze in some extra reps. This man was no Luke, that was for certain. She had never had the impulse to lick Luke’s chest. She had never felt her pulse kick up so fast or wanted him instantly on the couch or floor or any flat surface available.
What was it about Brandon Cates? Was it the forbidden thing because he was her boss? Because he was a handsome stranger? Was it the fact that he ordered flowers and cake just for her? Or was it the blackout-hot charisma and the gorgeous predatory smile? Whatever it was, he was a lethal combination and she was ready to go down in flames.
He moved her to the couch, unzipping her dress and pushing it off her shoulders. She stepped out of it gingerly, not wanting to snag the lace with her stilettos. Stripped to her thong and her strapless bra—unfortunately, the one that always left red pinch marks on her skin because it was so tight—she felt shy all of a sudden. Sure, she was in great shape, but he was like a being on a higher plane, too handsome, too perfect looking to be real. He was irresistible, and she didn’t think that any amount of Pilates or boot camp could elevate her to the level of goddess.
He shrugged off his shirt and lowered himself on top of her. The heat of him stretched out over her, pressing her into the cushions with his delicious weight made her wind her arms around his back, nearly purring. He slid a hand up her side and reached beneath her, unfastening her bra to let her breasts spill forth. She sighed then not with arousal but from relief. His kisses on her neck, his hands on her body had made her nipples so hard that the lace of her bra had felt irritating. Now, his hands rubbed them, making her grind against him.
