Exposed: Her Undercover Millionaire. Michelle Celmer

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СКАЧАТЬ he turned to her, looking puzzled. “Why?”

      Because I have no life, was the first answer that popped into her head. Sad as that was. But that was not the reason. “I have obligations.”

      “Which I’m sure can wait until tomorrow.” The light turned green and he accelerated. “Am I right?”

      “Technically, yes, but—”

      “So, wouldn’t you rather be doing something fun?”

      “Work is fun.”

      He raised a brow at her.

      “You don’t enjoy work?” she asked.

      “Not on a Friday night,” he said, giving her a sideways glance. “You look like a woman who knows how to navigate a dance floor.”

      Actually, she was a terrible dancer. She was so uncoordinated, she couldn’t even manage simple aerobics. She was always two steps behind the rest of the group. “Well, I’m not. And I really need to get back to the office.”

      “No, you don’t,” he said. Just like that. As if she had no say in the matter.

      He pulled into the lot of Billie’s, a small, shabby-looking, country-and-western bar that she never would have ventured into on her own. Too many disturbing memories of pulling her mom, who was usually too intoxicated to walk unaided, out of a place just like it in the small Nevada town where she grew up.

      And before she could insist that he turn the truck around and take her back to her office immediately, he was out the door and walking around to her side.

      He pulled it open and held out a hand to help her down.

      “I can’t do this,” she said.

      “It’s just one small step down to the ground,” he said with a dimpled grin. “I promise I’ll catch you if you fall.”

      The mischief in his eyes said he knew that wasn’t what she meant, and his teasing grin warmed her from the inside out. Did the man have to be so adorable?

      “I have a strict policy of not socializing with clients.”

      “That’s a good policy. But I’m not one of your clients.”

      Damn it, he had her there. “But Hannah’s Hope is my client, and by extension, so are you.”

      It was a flimsy excuse at best, and she could see that he wasn’t buying it. She expected some snappy comeback, but instead he sobered, his eyes earnest.

      “The thing is, I don’t know a lot of people in town and it can get lonely sometimes.”

      Wow. She hadn’t been expecting that. That kind of brutal honesty. He was making it really hard to tell him no.

      “I’m sure there are any number of women in there who would be happy to have a drink with you.” Among other things.

      “But I want to have a drink with you.”

      She couldn’t deny hearing those words, seeing the earnestness in his eyes, was just a little thrilling. And strangely enough, she wanted to get to know him better. There was something about Brandon that fascinated her. And not just his good looks, although she couldn’t deny she was attracted to him.

      How sad was the state of her personal life when a gorgeous, sexy man asked her out for a drink and she wanted to work instead? When had she become so obsessed with success that she couldn’t take a few hours off to have a little fun?

      Or, she could look at it from a profession angle. Brandon had so much potential. Maybe if they got to know one another, she could encourage him to do something more with his life.

      It was only a drink, right?

      “One drink,” she said. “Then you’ll take me right back to the office.”

      “I promise.” Wearing a grin that said he’d known all along he would get his way, he held out a hand to help her down. His hand was big, and a little work-roughened. A sturdy, capable hand. And as it closed around her own, she had the strangest feeling of … security. As if she instinctively knew that, while she was with Brandon, he would never let anything hurt her.

      How ridiculous was that? She barely knew the man. Besides, she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

      As soon as she was on stable ground she let go. But as she picked her way across the gravel lot in her three-inch heels, it occurred to her how inappropriately she was dressed. The older-model cars in the lot said this wasn’t the sort of establishment where business types hung out. In her suit, she was going to stick out like a sore thumb.

      “You look nervous,” he said as they approached the door.

      “I think I’m overdressed.”

      “Trust me, no one will care.”

      He reached for the door handle and a rush of memories washed over her. A hazy, smoke-filled room teeming with the sour stench of stale liquor and hopelessness. Country-and-western music blaring at a decibel so loud one could barely think, much less hold a conversation—not that anyone went there to talk. She imagined couples grinding against each other on the dance floor and embracing in dark corners, doing God only knows what.

      As Brandon pulled open the door she actually cringed, half expecting to see her mother there, slumped at the end of the bar, hands around a tumbler of cheap whiskey. But what she saw inside wasn’t at all what she’d expected. Despite it’s rundown exterior, it was clean and well-kept. The music was at a respectable level, and the air smelled not of smoke and liquor but smoked meat and spicy barbecue sauce.

      Several men sat at the bar watching some sporting event on an enormous flat-screen television, but most of the booths were empty.

      “Over there,” he said, gesturing to the area beside the deserted dance floor. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he put a hand on the small of her back to lead her. Did he have to be so touchy-feely? It wasn’t professional.

      And having a drink with him was?

      She didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, lead him to believe she was interested in anything but a professional relationship. She was sure she’d made that clear.

      She slid into the seat of the booth he chose and he sat across from her. A waitress appeared to take their orders. She was an older woman with a pleasant face, wearing an apron that boasted Billie’s ribs were the best in the west.

      “Hey, Brandon,” she said with a flirtatious smile. “You want the usual?”

      “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

      She turned to Paige, giving her a quick once-over. The business suit clearly puzzled her. “And for your lady friend?”

      Paige felt compelled to explain that she wasn’t a “lady friend,” just a business associate, although for the life of her she didn’t know why it mattered what a virtual stranger thought. “A glass of Chardonnay, please.”

      “House СКАЧАТЬ