Page 24 of Tempt My Heart

"David and Rose you mean."

"I imagine Denver's probably already spilled the beans to Blake. Not," he said hastily, "about our deal. Just that we're seeing each other," he explained and she nodded, willing her racing heart to slow to a more natural rhythm. “News travels fast.”

“Did they ask you about the cops?”

Christopher snorted. “Blake thought it was hilarious—I told him it was an unknown prankster.”

She tried to smile and it faltered, everything else weighing too heavily on her mind to joke around. "Do you really think Denver can take care of this?" She wasn't sure what made her ask—maybe the fact that he was already taking precautions, thinking two steps ahead, in case it didn't work out like they hoped.

"I think he'll do everything he can," he said simply and the vagueness of the reply would have worried her more if not for his confidence. His face was smooth, unworried, in control. "Do you always worry so much when you go on dates?" He teased and she opened her mouth and closed it. "That was supposed to be rhetorical."

"Sorry. I just don't remember the last time I went on a date."

He squinted. "I think it was about four months ago. You were wearing that red sweater with the little buttons and—" He cut himself off. "That was weird, wasn't it."

"A little." She hadn't realized he'd been paying such close attention. "So are you just really into fashion or something?"

The corners of his lips curled as the bartender approached. "Or something."

They ordered drinks and food and when the bartender left silence fell again. Christopher sighed and slid around the booth so that he was sitting next to her rather than opposite. The heat from his body sank into her skin, and the taste of his cologne got caught on her tongue.

"What?" she asked softly and when he looked at her steadily, she was close enough to count each of his long, dark lashes.

"The point of this dinner," he started, leaning in closer to her, "was to look like you're succeeding at wrapping me around your little finger."

"Right."

"It's hardly convincing when you’re sitting across from me with so much tension in your body you might as well be headed to the gallows."

Did she imagine the hitch in his breath when he said the word body? Or was that just wishful thinking?

"So what are you suggesting?" Ali raised one eyebrow and tried to sound unaffected, but her breath still stuttered when his hand brushed the outside of her thigh beneath the table. It was barely a touch, she would have almost thought she’d imagined it if not for the goosebumps that blazed along her skin and the warmth in the spot he'd touched. One touch shouldn't have her dizzy with want.

"I'm suggesting that you relax," Christopher murmured, leaning in so the words tickled her ear as his hand caressed her thigh again.

"And how do you propose I do that?"

This was a dangerous game. If they weren't careful, they were going to get in way over their heads. The fact that he was her boss suddenly felt like a flimsy excuse, easily brushed aside as his fingers closed around her knee before coasting higher.

What wasn't flimsy, however, was the very real threat they faced if Jared didn't buy that they were together and going along with his demands.

Her eyes fluttered as Christopher's hand neared the hem of her skirt before she caught it with her own, reason raising its ugly head.

"You don't need to do this. I can get a drink, I'll relax, we can sell this without—" His hand slipped underneath her skirt and she forgot how to breathe as desire flooded every one of her senses. "Christopher," she gasped, and knew she should mean it as an admonishment to put an end to this madness, but she didn't want it to end. For once, she wanted to revel in it.

"Nobody forces me to do anything I don't want to do." His words in her ear were so close to a growl she shivered. "So let me give you this, Alison. You need it as much as I do."

She whimpered, a tiny sound yet he didn't miss it.

"Ali," his whisper was heated and her imagination ran away from her as she wondered if this was what he sounded like in bed.

"Yes."

Warmth spread over her as he dragged his thumb over the sensitive spot on her inner thigh, sending a flood of wetness between her legs. Normally she would never do this. Not in public. But the booth was dark and secluded, and with Christopher she felt safe.

His index finger skimmed the outside of her underwear and she jumped, not with surprise but desire and he chuckled.

"I don't see what's funny," she said breathlessly as he began to trace languid circles over the top of the fabric separating them.

---