Page 64 of His Temptation
The corners of his lips rise slightly. “Good. I’ll come get you around noon.”
He taps the desk with his hand and walks away before I have a chance to ask him what he is talking about. I hesitate, torn between conflicting emotions. My conversation I had with Ben this morning, promising him not to mess up this job, rings in my ears. I should be thinking about my job and not the way Lincoln’s lips felt against my neck last night when he came inside of me.
I should march into his office and tell him whatever he has planned, it’s not a good idea. But here I am, powerless to stop myself from my curiosity of what he has in store.
Lincoln walks out of his office at exactly noon, like he promised. “You ready?” He takes a look at his watch. “We should be all set.”
I go to grab my sweater, but he stops to tell me I don’t need it. I put it back down slowly, now suspicious as to what we are doing. I follow him to the elevator, keeping a safe distance behind him so nobody suspects anything. Once we are on the elevator, he presses the button for the top floor. I’ve never been on it before. I just assumed it was an office for another company.
The doors open, and we walk out into a concrete and steel hallway. His bearing is stiff and proud while my spirit is in total chaos. I have a million questions for him. None of this makes any sense. It’s starting to cross over the line into creepy.
“Um, what are we doing up here?” I ask as he leads me down the hallway.
He grabs my hand and takes a turn down a corridor. “We’re having lunch together this afternoon. Since you’re going to be busy at night this week.”
That really doesn’t explain why we are up here. I know there’s no restaurant. We come to the end of the hallway, and there’s a steel door in front of us. The sign on it readsCAUTION: ROOFTOP. Before I can protest, he pushes the door open. I’m hit with the slight chill with the September winds.
Instead of focusing on the cold, I take in the scenery in front of me. There’s a dome bubble tent sitting on top of the rooftop with lights inside of it strung along the top. Inside of the tent is a circular table with two seats placed over a rug. Off to the side of the table is a bar cart with drinks, and it looks like there’s food on the hot plate.
I’m too stunned for words. The warmth of his hand tugs me forward to the opening of the dome, where George is standing.
“Thanks for getting this together on such short notice,” Lincoln says as he shakes George’s hand.
“My pleasure, Mr. Monroe. Miss Ricci.” He nods his head at me. “Please enjoy.”
My body swirls with a mix of emotions as we walk in, and Lincoln zips up the opening to keep the colder air out. There’s a heater in the corner, which keeps the entire thing nice and warm. He pulls a seat out and motions for me to sit.
“What is all of this?” I whisper as I watch him shed his suit jacket and take a seat across from me.
He unbuttons his shirt cuffs and rolls up his sleeves, then rests his elbows on the table. It’s amazing how quickly he can go from buttoned-up CEO to easygoing and relaxed these days.
“Well, since you’re going to be busy the rest of the evenings this week, I decided I would like to spend lunch with you.”
“But I just told you about my evenings this morning.”
He smiles. “Yes, you did.”
“There’s no way you were able to get this done in the last couple of hours.”
He chuckles as if what I said was funny. “Not to be too arrogant, but I’m a man with a lot of money and connections. You’d be surprised what I could do on short notice.”
I lean forward, goosebumps tickling my skin. There’s something about this man’s confidence that is so sexy but in an annoying way. I wonder if the books I read have planted ideas in my head that this is actually an attractive quality.
“Mr. Monroe, that is indeed very arrogant.”
He shrugs lightly. “I’m not afraid to admit that. It’s hard to get to the top and not have it go to your head.”
“Well, I would be happy to bring you back down a peg or two. Just say the word.”
His face turns serious. “That’s something I love about you. You don’t treat me like a billionaire.”
“How do billionaires get treated?” I ask curiously.
He sighs like the question is too much for him to bear. “You know, how about we get our food and drinks out first before we dive into such depressing topics?”
He stands up and walks over to the cart. He pulls open the lids of the large silver platters on the hot plates. I’m shocked by the sheer amount of food I see in front of me.
“Lincoln, that’s enough food for a dozen people.”
