Page 9 of At Your Service
Major’s hands had slipped from the tops of her arms to her waist until he was holding her tightly against him. It was a stern and commanding hold. A you’re-not-going-anywhere type of hold that she actually enjoyed. So much so, that Nina laced her arms around his neck, pulling his head down farther so that she could sink deeper into the kiss. A kiss they probably shouldn’t be sharing since there was no one to see them and hence wasn’t moving their fake relationship forward.
But hell, she wasn’t complaining.
When they finally broke contact, both breathing as if they’d just run a race, he rested his forehead against hers and Nina let her eyes remain closed for a few seconds more.
What the hell is going on?Twenty-four hours ago, she’d been preparing for a meeting she’d known could change her life. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought of how drastically things would change in such a short amount of time.
“Okay, that was...” He paused, searching for the words.
They popped into her mind effortlessly.Explosive. Delicious. Addictive!
“It was the kiss that sealed the deal” was what she actually said before pushing away from him and smoothing her hands down the front of her clothes.
He ran his hand across the back of his head while nodding. “Yeah, I guess we could say that.”
As if on cue, her phone chimed and she moved much too quickly to retrieve it from her purse. “Itinerary!” she said, her pitch higher than normal as she held up her phone as if to explain what she meant.
Major cleared his throat. “Right. I’m going to head downstairs because I have a couple of things to take care of before tonight. There’s a car waiting out front for you. The driver’s name is Claude. He’s great and he’ll get you wherever you need to go in the city. He’s at your disposal for the next six weeks. Landra will be sending you all of his contact information.”
She’d been reading the first of a five-page document attached to the email sent by his assistant. Today was already jam-packed with things to do.
“Oh, okay. Um, I guess I’ll be invoiced for all of this.”
“All of this” meaning drivers, tips, clothes—their seemed to be a ton of fittings and makeup sessions scheduled and she’d only bought this one suit just a couple of hours ago. The only other thing in her hotel closet was the skirt suit she’d worn yesterday and her train-ride outfit. None of which would be acceptable for the events listed in the itinerary document.
“Everything you need will be taken care of and, if we miss something, just let me know.”
She looked up at him, her gaze automatically going to his lips before she scolded herself and forced her eyes up to meet his.
“You’re going to take care of all of my expenses?”
“Yes, for the next six weeks. That’s part of the deal.”
It made sense. The only reason she was staying in New York longer was this fake fiancée assignment. So why shouldn’t he completely accommodate her? Making sense was totally different from being comfortable, and Nina wasn’t comfortable with the thought of this guy she’d only met yesterday paying her way. Thinking back now, she recalled the contract vaguely mentioning expenses, but she’d been so focused on the language pertaining to her business functioning with RGF’s that she hadn’t considered the implications. No worries, it was all good, she’d get used to it, because again she had no other choice. There was no way she could afford to stay here and buy all the things she’d need before she began seeing any profit from doing business with RGF.
She took a deep breath and released it slowly, telling herself to let go of the trepidation and take this situation for what it was at the moment.
“Then I’ll head out now. It seems I have a spa appointment and a fitting this afternoon.”
For what seemed like endless moments, they both stood still, staring at each other.
“Thank you,” he said when the silence stretched between them. “For doing this, I mean. I know it seems like an unusual arrangement.”
“If the rhythm of the drumbeat changes, the dance step must adjust.”
He frowned. “What?”
She shook her head as she grabbed her purse. “Sorry, it’s just an old African proverb my father used to say.”
“Your father is African?”
“Yes. His mother came to America when he was five years old. When she remarried, her husband adopted my father and so his last name was changed, but he was born in Sierra Leone.”
“Interesting,” he said, still staring at her.
“Yes. It’s always interesting to know where you come from and it helps in determining where you’re going.”
And she had no idea why they were talking about this. He had work to do and she had a spa appointment to get to.
