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“Yeah, sure.”
“Really. We’ll go next weekend.”
She knew the security guard didn’t believe her. His brow creased and she could see him fishing around for something more to add, something that would help salvage her dignity. Which was a laugh. After almost a full year of this masquerade, she had very little dignity left to salvage.
“Your fiancé is a lucky man,” he said at last, “having such an . . . an . . . elegant woman for his bride-to-be.”
She smiled wryly. He seemed intent on painting himself further and further into his corner. Time to put the poor man out of his misery.
“My fiancé is a fine man,” she lied smoothly. Practice certainly did make perfect. How appalling. “I’ve never met anyone more eager to please. He’ll be delighted at the idea of a trip to the mountains. Maybe we’ll rent a cabin and stay the whole weekend.”
“What’s this?” a deep, husky voice interrupted. “My Ms. Barnes is going away for a romantic weekend?”
Color mounted in Grace’s cheeks at the sound of the familiar voice. She turned to greet Luc Salvatore, struggling to hang on to the cool, calm demeanor she’d perfected these past eleven months. “Just a passing thought,” she said lightly, forced to look a long way up to meet his gaze.
He stepped closer, trapping her against Edward’s desk, an intent expression riding his handsome features. “Not a good one, if this blush is anything to go by.” He ran a slow finger along her cheekbone, his broad shoulders eclipsing her view of everything else. He’d cut them off from the rest of the world, and it made her nervous. Very nervous. “No need to jump into these things if you aren’t ready.”
She heard the concern in his voice and her brows drew together. She felt like a heel, worrying Edward and Luc with a conversation about an imaginary romantic interlude with an equally imaginary fiancé. “Thanks for your advice,” she stated flatly, hoping to end the discussion before she got in any deeper.
“You’re welcome.” Cupping her elbow, Luc escorted her toward the elevators. “Why all this sudden talk about a weekend trip with what’s-his-name?”
She shot him a look of annoyance. “His name is Will... William, as you know full well.”
“And is Will-William dragging you off to his mountain lair to have his wicked way with you? Is that what you were telling Edward?”
“That’s none of your business.” She faced the bank of elevator doors, refusing to so much as glance his way. Not that it helped. The mirror-bright shine on the gold lobby doors reflected the determination in his expression. “And don’t think I missed the look you and Edward exchanged,” she added for good measure.
“First, it’s my business if I choose to make it my business.” He positioned himself in front of her, blocking the doors. “And second, what look are you talking about?”
Why, oh why didn’t the stupid elevator arrive so she could put an end to their conversation? She fixed her attention on the red silk tie knotted at his throat. As usual, it was slightly askew. And as usual, she valiantly resisted the temptation to straighten it. With each passing day, however, the temptation grew stronger. One of these days she’d give in. If she was lucky, that would also be day three hundred and sixty-five on the job.
Aware she couldn’t get out of answering his question, she said, “You know the look I mean. That man-to-man, women-are-such-fools one.”
“Ah. You mean our look of mutual concern.”
Her gaze flashed upward, locking with his. It was a mistake. He could melt ice with those eyes. Her annoyance didn’t stand a chance. It evaporated like mist beneath a hot sun. “My personal life is none of your business,” she managed to say. Finally succeeding in breaking eye contact, she leaned around him and stabbed the elevator call button again. Pointless, but it gave her something to do other than talk to Luc’s tie. “And it’s most certainly none of Edward’s.”
“On the contrary. You elected to share your personal life with Edward, so you have no one to blame but yourself if he offers an opinion.” His long, lean fingers brushed her jaw, tilting her chin upward until she had no choice but to look at him again. “And whether you believe it or not, everything about you is my affair.” He made the sweeping statement with such utter sincerity it left no room for doubt.
Her breathing stopped. “Why would you care if Will... William and I went away for the weekend?” She still choked every time she uttered her fictitious fiancé’s name. And Luc, darn him, took due note.
At long last, the elevator arrived and the doors slid open. He stepped aside so she could enter first, then keyed the lock for the top floor. “Is he pressuring you?”
She knew exactly what he meant, but lifted her chin and gave him a bland smile anyway. “Pressuring me? Whatever do you mean?”
He turned on her, disapproval carving his features into a stony mask. “To have sex, as you well know. And don’t bother with that innocent expression and the coy lies. You’re not good at it, Grace.”
She fought to keep a straight face. Little did he know. Over the past year she’d become unbelievably adept at lying. And if her father ever found out, it would break his heart. “I refuse to discuss this matter further,” she announced in no uncertain terms. “I repeat. It’s none of your business.”
He hit a button on the elevator and the car jerked to a stop. “Don’t do it, Grace,” he urged in a husky voice. “Don’t go away with him on a whim. You deserve better.”
She glared at Luc, sick of her deception. How she wished she could be herself instead of guarding every word she uttered. But she couldn’t and it left her with no choice but to drag their discussion out to the bitter end. “What could be better than a snow-covered mountain chalet buried deep in a redwood forest?”
His hands snagged the collar of her coat, rubbing the buttery wool along the length of her jaw. “For your first time, I think a suite at the Ritz in Paris overlooking the Place Vendôme would suit you best.”
She stared in alarm. He’d never made such personal remarks before, never touched her like this or gazed down at her with such a smoldering expression. The sudden change in their relationship unsettled her. “Who said it would be my first time?” she asked weakly, an odd tension gathering in the pit of her stomach.
“I say.”
