Читать книгу How to Seduce a Billionaire - Kate Carlisle - Страница 8

He choked on his coffee.

Dismayed, Kelly ran around and pounded his back. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he managed to say. “I’m fine.” He’d be even better once she backed off and her curvaceous breasts were no longer rubbing against his arm. He was only human, for God’s sake. And hard as granite.

He’d been tackled by some of the biggest linebackers in football history, but nothing had ever rendered him apoplectic before now. As he took a deep breath and let it out, the thought entered his mind that maybe she was trying to kill him. Could Roger have treated her so badly that she was going to take it out on every man she knew?

It wasn’t enough that she’d changed the playing field with her hot new look, but now she was shoving her panties at him. Didn’t she know that those little scraps of silk would be forever imprinted on his fragile male psyche? Now he would be forced to spend the next millennium imagining her in that black thong. Was she really that clueless?

“I didn’t mean to shock you,” she said. “But you said you would help.”

“Didn’t shock me,” he insisted, his voice sounding as if a frog had taken up residence in his throat. “Coffee went down wrong. Just… give me a minute.”

She finally moved back to her side of the desk and quickly shoved the bits of lace into the shopping bag.

“They’ll work just fine,” he said softly, not trusting his voice yet.

Her eyes glittered with hope. “Really?”

“Believe it,” he said with a nod. “Any normal guy would be grateful to see you in either pair.”

“You mean it?” Her eyes cleared and she smiled. “Thank you, Brandon. Oh, and I apologize again for springing them on you.”

“No problem.”

“To make this work, I really need to know what guys consider sexy.” She frowned, then admitted, “Roger never thought I was.”

“Never thought you were what?”

“Sexy.”

Brandon sat forward in his chair. “Does Roger have some kind of learning disability or something?”

She laughed. “Thanks for that. I’ll go order lunch now.”

“Good idea,” he said, thankful his voice had returned to full volume. “Oh, and Kelly?”

She stopped at the door. “Yes?”

“Go with the black thong.”

Later that afternoon, Brandon hung up the phone from a two-hour teleconference with his brothers and their lawyer.

“That guy never stops talking,” he said, shaking his head at the sheer immensity of the lawyer’s convoluted vocabulary.

“I was thinking you must pay him by the word,” Kelly said, flexing her fingers. She had taken notes during the entire meeting and now she stood and stretched her arms. The movement caused the knit fabric of her dress to stretch so tightly across her perfect round breasts that Brandon had to look the other way to stifle the first stages of another rock-hard erection.

“I’m getting more coffee,” she said. “Would you like some?”

“No, thanks. Will you have a chance to type up your notes and analysis this afternoon?”

“Definitely. I’ll get right on them.”

“I appreciate it.”

She closed the door and Brandon gritted his teeth. He needed Kelly to rethink this new wardrobe situation if he was going to survive the week. Hell, even her ankles were causing him palpitations. There was something about those high heels she was wearing that did awesome things to every inch of her legs.

An hour later, after the rest of his team had gone home, he walked out to Kelly’s area to find a property file and caught her pouting at herself in her compact mirror.

“Oh.” She blinked in surprise and quickly slapped the mirror closed and threw it in her drawer.

He rested one hand on the doorjamb. “I know I’m going to be sorry I asked, but what were you doing?”

“Nothing. What do you need? A file? Which one? I’ll get it.” She jumped up and pulled the top file drawer open.

“See, now you’re just raising my curiosity level,” he said, “so you might as well tell me.”

She clenched her teeth together irately. “Fine. Roger complained about the way I kissed, so I was practicing in the mirror. There. Are you happy?”

He shook his head. “Roger is a complete idiot. Why do you care what he thinks?”

She glared at him. “I told you, I want to get him back.”

“Yeah, that’s what I don’t get.” Disgusted with the subject of Roger, he moved to the file drawer and began to sift through the folders himself. “Where’s the new Montclair Pavilion file?”

“I’ve got it right here.” She picked up a thin folder and handed it to him. She looked so dejected, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for teasing her.

“Look, I’m sure you kiss like a goddess,” he said. “So stop worrying about what Roger thinks.”

“I just wish I could practice on something besides a mirror,” she said gloomily.

“Yeah,” he agreed absently as he thumbed through the file. “It usually works better to go with a real-life target who’ll actually kiss you back.”

She shot him a hopeful look. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to help me out with that.”

He glowered at her. “Get real, Kelly.”

“What do you mean?” Realization dawned slowly. “Oh! No, no! I didn’t mean for you to kiss—oh, dear. I would never want you to… well, this isn’t going to come out right, no matter how I say it.”

“So just say it.”

“Okay. I wasn’t talking about you kissing me.” She sat on the edge of her desk. “But the thing is, I’ve made a list of potential, um… participants. So I was thinking maybe you could help by looking it over and making some suggestions?”

“You have a list?” Why was he surprised? Kelly made lists for everything. It was just one of the ways she stayed so organized.

“Of course I have a list.” She jumped up, ran around the desk and pulled a pad and pen out of her drawer. “I’m good at making lists.”

“Let me get this straight,” he said, absently slapping the file folder against his pants leg. “You’ve made a list of men you’re thinking of approaching to ask for help with—what? Kissing lessons?”

She flipped a page over and studied it. “That’s right.”

“But I’m not on the list?” he asked warily.

“What? No, absolutely not.” She shook her head as she held up her hand in a pledge. “Of course you’re not on the list. You’re my boss.”

“Good. As long as we’ve got that settled.” He should’ve felt nothing but relief. So why was he getting more annoyed by the minute? She considered him good enough to judge her damn panties but not good enough to kiss?

Okay, that might be the most ridiculous thought he’d had all day. This entire situation was getting out of hand. With a heavy exhalation of breath, he shoved away his own ludicrous reactions and tried to empathize with Kelly’s bizarre quandary.

“So who’s on the list?” he asked, almost afraid to hear her answers.

She glanced up. “What do you think about Jean Pierre?”

“The hotel chef?” She couldn’t be serious.

“He’s French,” she explained. “They invented the sport, right?”

“No way in hell. Not Jean Pierre. You’d probably start an international incident. Absolutely not.”

“Okay, okay.” She crossed Jean Pierre’s name off her list. “What about Jeremy?”

“The guy who mows the lawns?”

“He’s a landscape designer,” she said pointedly. “Practically an artist. He might know a thing or two about the art of l’amour.”

“He’s gay.”

“Really? Why don’t I know these things?” She blew out a frustrated breath as she drew a line through Jeremy’s name. “Nicholas the winemaker? He’s German, right? He might be—”

“Let me see that list.” He snatched the pad from her and gazed at the names. “Paulo, the cabana boy?”

“He’s cute,” she insisted, a little too desperately. “Forget it. Who’s Rocco?”

“One of the limo drivers.”

“Which one?”

“The big guy with the—”

“Never mind.” He shook his head. “No.”

“But—”

“No,” he said, handing the list back. “Throw that away. I don’t want you going around kissing the staff, for God’s sake.”

“Fine.” Glaring at Brandon, she ripped the page out, crumpled it up and tossed it in the waste bin. “I suppose you’re right. It might send the wrong message.”

“You think?” he said, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

She folded her arms tightly across her chest, which only served to emphasize her world-class breasts, damn it.

“So who can I ask for help?” she wondered, leaning her hip against her desk. “I’ve got a full week before Roger gets here. I could do a lot of practicing in that time. Do you have any friends you could recommend?”

“No.”

“Too bad.” She pursed her lips in thought. “Maybe there’s someone in town who—”

“Not a good idea,” he said in a tone that cut off all discussion. Not a good idea? Talk about an understatement. Hell, it was one of the worst ideas Brandon had ever heard. He didn’t want her kissing the staff or any poor, unsuspecting Napa Valley residents. All he needed was to have the locals talking about the crazy kissing woman from the Mansion on Silverado Trail.

But he could tell by the tension building along Kelly’s soft jawline that she was determined to carry out this cockeyed plan of hers. And if she went behind his back and enlisted one of the pool attendants…

Brandon stared at those pouty, glossy lips and realized the only man who could help her improve her kissing technique was him. Mainly because he suddenly couldn’t stand the thought of her kissing anyone else.

“Fine,” he said brusquely. “I’ll help you.”

She pushed away from the desk. “But you’re not on the list.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m going to help you myself because I don’t want you scaring away the staff.”

She placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head at him. “I know you meant that in the nicest way.”

“Sorry. Yes.” He shook his head as if to erase the comment. “Of course I did.”

She continued staring at him. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“It’s the only way I’ll know for sure that you’re not getting into trouble around here.”

“I won’t get into trouble.”

“I know, because I’ll be the one helping you.”

Inhaling a deep breath, Kelly let it out slowly, then seemed to brace herself for impact. “Okay. I appreciate this, Brandon.” She took a hesitant step toward him, but he held up his hand to stop her.

“Wait. We need to set some ground rules first.”

“Ground rules? Why?”

“Because there’s no way I’m having you fall for me.”

“Fall for you?” She blinked, then began to laugh. “Are you kidding?”

“Something funny?” he asked, insulted.

“Yes,” she said, giggling like a schoolgirl. “The idea that I would ever be dumb enough to fall for you is pretty funny.”

“Dumb enough?”

“Yes, dumb enough. Let me count the ways.” She held up one hand and began ticking off fingers. “You’re a grouch in the morning. You leave newspapers lying around everywhere. You date a woman once and then never call back. You’re a big baby when you’re sick.”

“Wait a minute,” he protested.

But she was on a roll now and seemed to be enjoying herself. “And all your weird superstitions left over from when you played in the NFL? My gosh, wearing the same socks for every game was bad enough, but I also heard that you ate only sardines and blueberries the night before every game. Do you still do that before big negotiations?

Who does that?”

Brandon had heard enough. He placed the file on the chair in front of her desk and stalked closer. “The socks were washed between games.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, really.” He brushed against her, then slipped his hand around her nape and urged her closer. “And sardines and blueberries are both excellent sources of omega-three fatty acids.”

“Fascinating,” she whispered, as she stared wide-eyed at him.

“Helps the brain function better,” he added as he caressed her cheek.

“G-good to know.” She sounded wary now, probably smart of her.

He bent to kiss her neck, then murmured in her ear, “The quarterback’s the brains of the team, did you know that?”

She moaned. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I am.” And he kissed her. She tasted as sweet and hot as he somehow knew she would. Even more so. He had to work to keep the contact light and simple, because it wouldn’t do to get carried away. But that didn’t stop him from wishing he could lay her down on the desk, run his hands up her thighs, spread her legs and bury himself inside her.

He had to stop. This was wrong in too many ways to count. If he stepped away from her right now, they could both forget this kiss ever happened.

Then she groaned in surrender and he knew she wanted the same things he did. And he was helpless to stop. He used his tongue to gently pry her lips open, plunging inside her sexy mouth. Her tongue met his in a sensual play of thrust and parry.

He wanted to cup her breasts and flick his thumbs across her peaked nipples, but that was a sure road to madness. So with every ounce of will inside him, he forced himself to end the kiss, reluctantly pulling himself away from her warmth.

“Oh,” she whispered, licking her lips as she slowly opened her eyes.

Brandon’s insides clenched at the sight of her pink tongue tasting him on her mouth.

“Oh, that was good,” she said with a note of surprise. “That was really good.”

“Yeah,” he said, brooding. “It was.”

“I liked it a lot.”

So did he, but he remained silent. Otherwise, he might’ve been tempted to follow through on his desire to have her naked under him. But that would never happen and right now, he needed to regain some degree of control over whatever strange emotions were still churning inside him.

“Roger never kissed like that,” she said, watching him thoughtfully.

“Did I mention the guy was an idiot?” he muttered.

“No wonder he didn’t think I was sexy,” she reasoned. “It’s because he didn’t make me feel sexy.”

“I rest my case.”

“But you did,” she declared and smiled up at him. “And now… wow. You know, I really think Roger was the problem, not me. But I can’t be sure.”

“Yeah, you can,” he said gruffly. “Roger was the problem. End of story.”

She touched his arm. “Thank you, Brandon.”

“You’re welcome.” He started to head for his office, still trying to steady his breathing.

“Wait,” she said.

He turned and looked at her. A slight line of concern marred the smooth surface of her forehead. Her lips were pink and tender and about the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. The fact that he wanted more than anything to kiss her again, made him forge ahead into his office.

“I think I could get really good at this and blow Roger’s mind, but I need to practice,” she said, following him. She had her notepad in hand again, probably hoping she could make another damn list of all the different ways they could kiss each other. If she only knew.

“Not a good idea,” he said, sliding the Montclair file into his briefcase.

“But you said that before and it turned out to be a really good idea.”

He pierced her with a look. “No more practicing. Ground rules, remember?”

“I remember, don’t worry.” After scrutinizing him for a moment, she nodded her agreement. “Okay, I guess you’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” he said, and snapped his briefcase closed.

“Thank you for your help,” she said. “It was wonderful. On a purely educational level, I mean.”

“You’re welcome,” he said and led the way out of his office. “Now let’s call it a night.”

“Oh, I’m going to stay for a while,” she said, flipping to a clean page, all business now. “I need to make some notes while everything is still fresh in my mind. I’ll need to remember everything later.”

“You’re going to make notes on that kiss?”

“Yes, for future reference.” She’d already begun scribbling what looked like mathematical calculations. “If I write everything down—what you did and what I felt, I’ll be able to recall each sensation the next time, and I’ll know I’m doing it right.”

“The next time,” he echoed hazily.

“Yes. I tend to remember tactile experiences more clearly if I make a record of it immediately. Then later, I’ll study my notes in anticipation of the next occurrence.” She beamed at him. “I’m quite confident I can achieve an exponential jump in my skill level and understanding.”

“Really?”

“It makes perfect sense on paper.”

“On paper. Good.”

Tapping her pen against the pad, she murmured, half to herself, “Of course, an actual kiss would give me a lot more insight….”

She looked up and studied Brandon closely. He wasn’t liking the look in her eyes. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Think about what?” she asked, her eyelashes fluttering innocently. If she were any other woman, Brandon would know she was playing a dangerous game of seduction. But this was Kelly, who didn’t seem to have a clue about feminine wiles and whose every emotion was evident on her face.

That made it Brandon’s responsibility to set her straight.

“Forget it, Kelly. I am not going to kiss you again.”

“Oh, I know,” she murmured, her moist, glimmering lips pursed in thought.

He lost all memory of what they were talking about. He only knew that right now, his throbbing body parts wanted to put those lips of hers to the best use possible. Maybe after that, he would be able to carry on an intelligent conversation with her.

In the meantime, however, it appeared that he had created a monster.