Page 30 of Forty, Flirty & F*cked

Boundaries. Now this I understand.

"Such as?"

"No using this to make Will jealous."

“Of course not.”

"No public displays of affection."

"Define public."

She kicks me under the table. "I'm serious."

"So am I." I catch her foot with mine, a tactical move. Nothing more. "We need to be convincing."

"We need to be professional."

"Says the woman playing footsie with her CEO."

She withdraws her foot. "You started it."

"I'm simply maintaining our cover."

"Our nonexistent cover."

"For now." I signal for dessert. “But to be quite honest, for someone who claims to want professional distance, you're still carrying that poker chip."

Her hand goes to her pocket. "It's evidence."

"Of what?"

"Poor impulse control."

"Ouch." But I'm grinning. "And here I thought we had something purely transactional."

"We have something complicated."

"Life's complicated." I lean forward. "Doesn't mean it can't also be profitable."

She meets my eyes, and for a moment the boundaries we just set seem to evaporate.

"Connor..."

"Yes?"

"You're staring again."

"Still assessing." I sit back. "Professional assessment."

"Right." She checks her watch. "And on that professional note, I should go. Early meeting tomorrow."

"With your other Vegas acquisition?"

"With Senator Thompson." She stands, gathering her things. "Apparently his wife's yacht photos are causing problems again."

"What is it with rich people and boats?"

"I've stopped asking." She hesitates. "Thank you for dinner."

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