Page 8 of Mr. On Your Knees
“Good afternoon,” she said when the hostess moved aside and allowed her to step closer to the table.
Jared’s arm moved slowly as he set the glass down and looked up at her. “Hello, Desi.”
Shit. Did he have to say her name like that? In that tone that recalled every night he rolled over in bed and reached for her. Calling out her name as if he’d thought for a moment that she’d gotten up and left. Then following it with a contented sigh the moment he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to cuddle. She missed those nights, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.
Instead, she sat in the chair across from him, leaning over to drape the straps of her tote on the empty chair to her left. “I want to thank you for this opportunity,” she said and looked up to meet his gaze. “I’m excited to get started with this project.”
To make that point clear and push back the butterflies that insisted on doing a two-step in the pit of her stomach, she reached into her bag and pulled out her tablet. She also retrieved the gallery catalog she had Natalie pick up this morning.
“After speaking with Mari, I started working on some preliminary ideas.” She talked while she booted up her tablet. “I’m sure you have thoughts on how you’d like everything to look, but I wanted to have somewhat of a starting point just in case you needed it.”
His hand on hers was a shock and the next words she planned to speak died somewhere in the back of her throat. Her gaze rested on their hands.
Hers, a light honey complexion. Cotton candy pink painted nails, a white gold band with her sapphire birthstone in a pear shape on her right ring finger. It was a gift to herself after she’d landed the job at the event planning company seven years ago. She always wore it for luck now. She had it on at the interview and at the last minute had decided to put it on this morning as well. Even though technically since she already had the job, she didn’t really need the luck now.
Still, Jared’s fingers brushed over the ring as he said, “Let’s eat first. Catch up a little before we talk business.”
Bringing her gaze up slowly to meet his, she had to take a deep breath before speaking again. His smoldering brown eyes were locked on her. Medium thick lips surrounded by the shiny black hair of his beard were slightly parted.
“Uh, yeah, sure,” she said and cleared her throat. “We can do that.”
Right after he stopped touching her and looking at her like that.
She eased her hand away and began moving her fingers over her tablet again to play off the fact that she desperately needed to break their contact.
“I’ll just pull everything up now so it’ll be ready when we get back to it.” Did she sound nervous? Lord, she hoped not.
“We have time,” he told her. “I cleared my afternoon just to get this started.”
Her gaze snapped up to meet his again. He slid his hand away and sat back against the tufted seat. From this viewpoint she could see that the top button of his crisp white dress shirt had been undone, the navy-blue tie he wore was loosened just a bit. Not enough to give an unkempt look. That description could never be applied to Jared. He still wore his suit jacket, navy-blue like his tie, with a barely-there pinstripe. If she noticed that meant she was staring. But how could she be expected to look away when she knew what lay beneath those expertly tailored and selected clothes?
“I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” she replied. “I can do the gallery visit on my own and I’ll get in touch with Mari to clarify which ballroom we’ll be using at The Carrington so I can see that as well. You really didn’t have to schedule this private lunch. I work via email with a lot of my busier clients and I really don’t mind.”
“Desi.” He said her name again in that simple, yet too fucking enticing tone.
She licked her lips and let her hands fall to her lap to smooth down her thighs. “Yes?” she answered before clearing her throat once more.
She had to stop doing that. It was ridiculous and made her appear unsure, possibly unqualified to do this job.
“We don’t have to do this,” he said.
Dammit, now she was going to lose the job only a day after she’d gotten it.
“Wait,” she started and shook her head, “I can do this. It’s not a problem. In fact, I don’t even need lunch. We can just get right to business. Tell me your ideas.” She reached for her tablet again and this time when his hand shot out to cover hers, she saw it coming.
Saw it, anticipated the surge of heat that was a repeat of what she’d felt just moments ago when he touched her, and steeled herself against showing him any reaction.
“Stop,” he said, his tone a little sterner now. His gaze laser focused on her.
She clapped her mouth closed and swallowed.
“We don’t have to be uncomfortable with each other. Not after all we’ve been through.”
“I don’t want to go there with you, Jared.” On another inhale she found her courage and let her hand remain still beneath his. “I just want to do this job.”
“And you will do the job,” he told her. “I selected you because I know you’ll create the exact vision I had in my mind for this event.”
Then, his tone softened. “You know what this means to me. My reasons for becoming involved in the Mr. Black Organization and all that I’ve worked to build since then. Nobody knows that as well as you.”
