The CEO Buys In
Page 66
The intensity in his voice restoked the heat between her thighs. She hid her reaction by rummaging in her handbag again. When she pulled out a brush and lipstick, Nathan pushed a button. A mirrored panel dropped down from the ceiling. One glance and Chloe went into high-speed repair mode.
Nathan gave a loud sigh.
“What?” Chloe looked away from the mirror.
“You’ve lost that I-just-had-sex-in-a-car look.”
“Then my job here is done.” She dropped the brush and makeup into her purse and shrugged into her blazer.
He pushed the mirror back up before he reached across the space between them to pull her onto the seat beside him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and bent to imprint a hot kiss on the side of her neck before he murmured. “I’ll pick you up after work tomorrow and we’ll go shopping.”
She stiffened as he reminded her of the upcoming ordeal of his father’s wedding. She’d managed to shove that to the back of her mind.
“You agreed to accept my gift of clothing,” he said, misinterpreting her tension.
“I know.” That wasn’t the problem. “I’d like to go to Saks Fifth Avenue.”
She felt him shake his head. “I have a personal shopper coming to my home with a selection of whatever she thinks you’ll need for the wedding.”
The closet in his guest room flitted through her mind. All designer clothes. All expensive beyond belief. “I’d rather go to Saks.”
“Fine.”
Surprised by his easy capitulation, she tilted her head to look up at him. “Fine?”
He returned her gaze with a raised eyebrow. “She’ll bring the clothes to Saks.” Then he kissed her, long and deep, until she clutched at his lapel to pull herself in closer. She felt the warmth of his palm on her thigh as he slipped his hand under her skirt.
The car stopped and Oskar’s voice came through the intercom, announcing they were at Ms. Russell’s home. Nathan cursed softly.
Chloe felt a zing of satisfaction that his attempt to distract her from the shopping issue had been more successful at frustrating him. “Language,” she said, laying a finger across his lips.
“But I need time to do this,” he said, moving his hand farther up her thigh until his fingers just brushed at the lace between her legs. He found a way under the panties and slid one finger inside her, making her throw back her head. He flexed it once and withdrew, the friction sending exquisite heat curling through her. Locking his gaze on her, he licked his finger.
She was going to have to face Grandmillie with the image of Nathan tasting her seared into her brain. “I’ll get you back for that tomorrow,” she said, giving him a nudge since his long body was between her and the door.
“Retaliation can lead to escalation.” He reached up to hit some sort of release before opening the door and unfolding himself out of the car. Turning, he held her hand to help her out of the car, his gray eyes lit with desire and a touch of mischief. “I look forward to it.”
“Good evening, Chloe.” Grandmillie’s voice was like a bucket of cold water on the bonfire Nathan had lit.
Chloe spun away from him to see her grandmother standing on the front porch, the door open behind her. “Bring your young man inside for a minute.” Grandmillie gripped the head of her cane with both hands. “I’ve baked scones.”
Chloe turned back in time to see Nathan rake his fingers through his disheveled hair and yank his shirt collar higher. As satisfying as it was to find that he was not immune to Grandmillie’s tone of authority, Chloe didn’t want him in the house, invading her world.
“You don’t have to come,” Chloe said in a low murmur. “Say you have business to get back to.”
Nathan looked down at her. “But I want to meet your grandmother.”
“Why?” Chloe asked between clenched teeth.
“She’s part of your life.”
He said it matter-of-factly, but his words gave Chloe pause. She’d been telling herself that Nathan saw her as a fling, a few weeks’ entertainment. That had allowed her to let go of her inhibitions, to consider this an acceptable deviation from her usual sensible approach to relationships, because it wouldn’t continue.
But flings didn’t want to meet your grandmother, did they?
“After you,” Nathan said, standing aside so she could walk up the flagstone path. Chloe gave him a quick glare before trudging up to the porch, aware of his footsteps on the stones just behind her. She gave Grandmillie a matching glare before turning to say, “Grandmillie, this is Nathan Trainor. Nathan, my grandmother, Millicent Russell.”
As Nathan shook her grandmother’s hand, Chloe could only be glad it wasn’t with the same hand he’d slid under her skirt earlier. “I’ve been hoping to meet you, Mrs. Russell.”
“We’ll see about that,” Grandmillie said giving him a penetrating look. “I appreciate your giving my granddaughter a ride home, Mr. Trainor.”
“Call me Nathan, please. I enjoy her company.”
Chloe caught her breath, but Nathan’s voice was clear of any innuendo. He smiled down at the older woman as he waited for Grandmillie to make her way into the house.
Chloe followed her grandmother, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t subject Nathan to an embarrassing interrogation. The scones were a bad sign, because it meant they’d have to sit down in order to eat the warm, crumbly pastries with clotted cream and jam. As they walked into the living room, the fragrance of Grandmillie’s baking wafted around them, making Chloe salivate in spite of her nervousness. She’d worked up a considerable appetite in the Rolls.
Nathan gave a loud sigh.
“What?” Chloe looked away from the mirror.
“You’ve lost that I-just-had-sex-in-a-car look.”
“Then my job here is done.” She dropped the brush and makeup into her purse and shrugged into her blazer.
He pushed the mirror back up before he reached across the space between them to pull her onto the seat beside him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and bent to imprint a hot kiss on the side of her neck before he murmured. “I’ll pick you up after work tomorrow and we’ll go shopping.”
She stiffened as he reminded her of the upcoming ordeal of his father’s wedding. She’d managed to shove that to the back of her mind.
“You agreed to accept my gift of clothing,” he said, misinterpreting her tension.
“I know.” That wasn’t the problem. “I’d like to go to Saks Fifth Avenue.”
She felt him shake his head. “I have a personal shopper coming to my home with a selection of whatever she thinks you’ll need for the wedding.”
The closet in his guest room flitted through her mind. All designer clothes. All expensive beyond belief. “I’d rather go to Saks.”
“Fine.”
Surprised by his easy capitulation, she tilted her head to look up at him. “Fine?”
He returned her gaze with a raised eyebrow. “She’ll bring the clothes to Saks.” Then he kissed her, long and deep, until she clutched at his lapel to pull herself in closer. She felt the warmth of his palm on her thigh as he slipped his hand under her skirt.
The car stopped and Oskar’s voice came through the intercom, announcing they were at Ms. Russell’s home. Nathan cursed softly.
Chloe felt a zing of satisfaction that his attempt to distract her from the shopping issue had been more successful at frustrating him. “Language,” she said, laying a finger across his lips.
“But I need time to do this,” he said, moving his hand farther up her thigh until his fingers just brushed at the lace between her legs. He found a way under the panties and slid one finger inside her, making her throw back her head. He flexed it once and withdrew, the friction sending exquisite heat curling through her. Locking his gaze on her, he licked his finger.
She was going to have to face Grandmillie with the image of Nathan tasting her seared into her brain. “I’ll get you back for that tomorrow,” she said, giving him a nudge since his long body was between her and the door.
“Retaliation can lead to escalation.” He reached up to hit some sort of release before opening the door and unfolding himself out of the car. Turning, he held her hand to help her out of the car, his gray eyes lit with desire and a touch of mischief. “I look forward to it.”
“Good evening, Chloe.” Grandmillie’s voice was like a bucket of cold water on the bonfire Nathan had lit.
Chloe spun away from him to see her grandmother standing on the front porch, the door open behind her. “Bring your young man inside for a minute.” Grandmillie gripped the head of her cane with both hands. “I’ve baked scones.”
Chloe turned back in time to see Nathan rake his fingers through his disheveled hair and yank his shirt collar higher. As satisfying as it was to find that he was not immune to Grandmillie’s tone of authority, Chloe didn’t want him in the house, invading her world.
“You don’t have to come,” Chloe said in a low murmur. “Say you have business to get back to.”
Nathan looked down at her. “But I want to meet your grandmother.”
“Why?” Chloe asked between clenched teeth.
“She’s part of your life.”
He said it matter-of-factly, but his words gave Chloe pause. She’d been telling herself that Nathan saw her as a fling, a few weeks’ entertainment. That had allowed her to let go of her inhibitions, to consider this an acceptable deviation from her usual sensible approach to relationships, because it wouldn’t continue.
But flings didn’t want to meet your grandmother, did they?
“After you,” Nathan said, standing aside so she could walk up the flagstone path. Chloe gave him a quick glare before trudging up to the porch, aware of his footsteps on the stones just behind her. She gave Grandmillie a matching glare before turning to say, “Grandmillie, this is Nathan Trainor. Nathan, my grandmother, Millicent Russell.”
As Nathan shook her grandmother’s hand, Chloe could only be glad it wasn’t with the same hand he’d slid under her skirt earlier. “I’ve been hoping to meet you, Mrs. Russell.”
“We’ll see about that,” Grandmillie said giving him a penetrating look. “I appreciate your giving my granddaughter a ride home, Mr. Trainor.”
“Call me Nathan, please. I enjoy her company.”
Chloe caught her breath, but Nathan’s voice was clear of any innuendo. He smiled down at the older woman as he waited for Grandmillie to make her way into the house.
Chloe followed her grandmother, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t subject Nathan to an embarrassing interrogation. The scones were a bad sign, because it meant they’d have to sit down in order to eat the warm, crumbly pastries with clotted cream and jam. As they walked into the living room, the fragrance of Grandmillie’s baking wafted around them, making Chloe salivate in spite of her nervousness. She’d worked up a considerable appetite in the Rolls.
