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“Dayna, have you lost your mind? Sit down.” He stands and takes my wrist. “Sit down and hear me out before you make a scene. Right now.”
“Take your hand off me.”
“I’ve spent the entire day arguing with Ted over this, Dayna. I’m losing friends and hurting people because of you. And I don’t care, not if it means I keep you safe, so you can give me five goddamn minutes.”
I don’t know why I listen, but I do. I sit back down and Clark shifts his chair closer to mine. I concentrate on not letting the pain that’s balling in my throat turn to tears.
“I understand how much you want this well. I do. But Teddy thinks I should pull out, and I’m starting to agree with him. Layton Oil can’t beat Persian Fuels alone, and I know you can’t either. But if you make a deal with Bahrain, I swear to God, it — you — will be the death of me. So I’m telling you I’ll put everything on the line, I’ll go against Teddy’s advice, and I’ll bid with you, if you promise me you’ll stay away from that deal. There’s every chance we’d lose money. A good chance. But I’ll do it. I’m not lying to you, Dayna. I just want you to get what you need without killing yourself.”
I press the base of my hand to my chest as pain strikes beneath my ribs. “If we did it and we won, Caspar wouldn’t necessarily stop coming at us, Clark.”
“I know. But it would be different if we were together.”
“How?”
He takes my hand in his. “Because I’ll be behind you. Every step of the way. I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you.”
My head is spinning, trying to comprehend what he’s suggesting, trying to make sense of everything I’m thinking and feeling.
“Clark, a deal wouldn’t mean that we were together… in every way. I mean, we’re not, but we really couldn’t be, ever, if we joined forces. It wouldn’t be right. If it, we, went wrong…”
“I know.”
I used to love the oil industry. I used to thrive on deals and trading. When Little Princess exploded, the spark went away. When my father killed himself, the excitement, the gloss, the shine almost disappeared entirely. I can’t be with Clark. Not right now. But the thought of the industry taking him away from me permanently, or worse, meaning he gets hurt… I would come to hate it.
“But don’t think it would stop me trying,” he says, breaking my thoughts with a wink that ignites my blood.
I smile and hold his hand in both my own. “You’re relentless.”
“You’re stunning.”
“Clark—”
He leans forwards and presses his mouth to mine. I want to push him away, but my body submits. I drown beneath him. It’s like he’s my only lifeline, the air I need to breathe. I cling to his shirt, forgetting our surroundings, until he breaks our connection.
He rests his forehead on mine and strokes a hand up my thigh. “This dress.” His words are heavy, laced with desire. “I want to take it off.”
“Stop it,” I tell him with no conviction, holding my eyes shut.
“Don’t fight me, baby. Forget it all. Business. The past. Just let me love you tonight.”
A waiter coughs, breaking us apart. He’s visibly uncomfortable. Clark and I should have known better in Dubai. Men and women don’t show affection in public as custom, but we’re not married, which means Clark’s little flirt with the top of my thigh was against the law.
I can’t explain how much that turns me on.
The waiter takes our plates as I nip my lip in my teeth and nod slowly, suddenly hungry for only one thing. Clark’s kryptonite zaps my willpower, again. “One night, that’s all,” I whisper.
He takes my hand to his lips, and his eyes sparkle. “Let’s enjoy dinner. You’re going to need your energy.”
I find myself laughing, “You’re such a charmer, Layton.”
We talk and laugh through our main course and another round of cocktails. It’s easy, natural and something that I’d forgotten we had, fun. We turn back towards the fountains as the sound of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” fills the air.
“Enrique was nice, but this is pretty cool,” I tell him.
“Good restaurant choice, then?”
“Good choice.”
