Page 11 of Legal Seduction
“We will work over dinner,” he said, “and finish up so you can get home to your...” He raised an eyebrow again as he waited for her reply.
“Apartment.”
It wasn’t any of his business why she was quitting; it wasn’t any of his business if she lived with someone or had a boyfriend. The less Simon Kramer knew about her the better off she would be.
He was undeterred and asked, “Is anyone waiting for you in that apartment?”
She let a smile slip out as she shook her head. “No. I don’t have a cat. And the building doesn’t allow dogs.”
“Good,” he said. “I’m allergic.”
She wanted to tell him that there was no way in hell he was ever coming to her apartment. But before the words slipped out like her smile had, she remembered her plan. So she smiled wider and murmured, “Then it’s good I don’t have one.”
His blue eyes momentarily widened with surprise at her remark before narrowing with obvious suspicion. He studied her face. “So you’re going to invite me to your place?”
Her pulse kicked into overdrive, racing away. She was nervous about her plan. She wasn’t imagining him in her apartment, although he would look damn good in her new place. That wasn’t going to happen. Ever.
“That wouldn’t be appropriate while I’m still working for you,” she said. Then, summoning all the acting ability she possessed, she batted her lashes at him. “Guess you’ll have to wait two weeks for that invitation.”
He laughed and shook his head. “I’ve never been a patient man, Bette.”
Bette had more ability to be patient than act. She’d had to wait to move away from her small hometown in Michigan to attend fashion school and move to New York. She’d also had to wait six years for the career she’d wanted, for which she’d worked so hard, to finally take off. But now that it had, her patience had worn thin. There was no way she was waiting two weeks to end her relationship with Simon Kramer, such that it was.
“I can leave now,” she offered. “A temp service could send over someone until you hire my replacement.”
He laughed again and reached for her arm, tugging her toward him. “Oh, Bette, think of all the fun you’d miss if you left so soon.”
“Fun?” she parroted. “I thought we were working over dinner.”
He stepped closer, so that his body brushed against hers, his thigh touching hers, his chest bumping hers as he breathed deeply. Then he leaned down and murmured, “Work is very fun for me.”
She knew that was true. He obviously loved being a lawyer, probably loved being the managing partner of Street Legal even more. What she couldn’t understand was his sudden interest in her. Was it only because she was leaving?
Something about wanting what you couldn’t have?
She hoped that was the case, so that when she made it clear he could have her, he wouldn’t want her. Instead of stepping back as she had every time before, she stepped closer to him, pressing her body even tighter against his. She felt his erection pushing against her hip. And she parted her lips with a gasp. He felt big—really big—rubbing against her.
His gaze dropped to her mouth. His pupils dilated until they swallowed the bright blue. And he lowered his head even closer to hers.
“Dinner is served,” Bruno called out, his accent not nearly as thick now, from Simon’s office.
Her boss groaned and released a shuddery sigh. “We’ll eat first,” he said.
First?
What else did he have planned besides work and dinner? Bette’s knees trembled a bit as she walked with him the short distance to his office. As if she didn’t know where it was, he moved his hand to the small of her back, guiding her. Or branding her?
She felt the heat of his palm through her sweater and the lace camisole she wore beneath it over her bra. His hand was big, so big that his fingers reached over the top curve of her butt. Could he feel the bow at the top of the G-string she wore beneath her pencil-slim skirt? A matching bow held together the cups of her bra.
She always wore lingerie—for a few reasons. He was not one of them. But would he think she’d worn it for him—if she dared show it to him?
The heat already flushing her body increased, burning her up. The lack of food and all the doses of his charm must have addled her brain. She wasn’t thinking clearly at all, not like she’d been when she’d turned in her resignation. Then she’d been thinking more clearly than she had in the two years she’d worked for him.
His fingers moved, sliding over that bow, as if he was trying to figure out what it was. He glanced down at her, and again his eyes had widened with a look of surprise. “How is it, Bette, that we’ve worked together for two years but yet I don’t feel as if I know you at all?”
She could have told him that she’d just been lucky all these years to have escaped his notice. She had been just an office fixture to him, like a computer or the coffeepot. But she only smiled and shook her head. “I have no idea.”
“Well, let’s fix that,” he said. And finally, albeit reluctantly, he removed his hand from her ass and held out a chair for her. His office was so large that in addition to his desk and chair, he had a couch and a small conference room table and chairs.
