Intimate Betrayal. Donna Hill

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СКАЧАТЬ has been a very enlightening two weeks,” Reese said, stretching her long, lean body like a contented cat. “I’ve gotten a pretty good picture of who you are as the businessman through your staff and watching you interact with them.” She waited for a reaction and got none, so she went in for the dig. “It’s amazing how they can find so many decent things to say about you, Max.” She strutted back and forth across the room, one arm crossed beneath her breasts, the other hand twirling a loose tendril of hair. “That’s the most curious thing about this whole process,” she added airily. “I’m really looking forward to the trip on Sunday. I can’t wait to see what the California contingent has to say about the irreproachable Maxwell Knight.”

      Maxwell didn’t look up from the paperwork strewn about his desk.

      Slowly Reese crossed the room, bracing her palms on the desktop.

      Still he refused to look up.

      Feeling especially mischievous, she flicked a pencil across the desk, finally capturing his attention.

      “What is it, Ms. Delaware?” he asked, his heart racing as their gazes connected.

      Reese leaned closer, so close she could count the silken lashes rimming those incredible eyes. “I will not be ignored,” she parodied in a great Glenn Close imitation from the movie classic, Fatal Attraction.

      Whatever resistance Maxwell had left came tumbling down. It started out as a chuckle, then slowly built in strength and volume to a full-fledged raucous laugh.

      Reese, caught up in the moment, joined in with her own throaty laughter, enchanted by the sparkle in his eyes, the velvet timbre of his voice. She propped her hip on his desk.

      “We needed that,” she said, catching her breath.

      Maxwell nodded in agreement. “I think you’re right,” he chuckled.

      “You have a wonderful laugh,” she uttered in a husky whisper. “You should do it more often.”

      The metamorphosis was slow but clear. The light gradually dimmed in his dark eyes. Maxwell straightened up in his seat. “Carmen has your airline ticket. Don’t forget to pick it up before you leave.” He cleared his throat. “If you need a car to take you to the airport in the morning, please inform Carmen on your way out.” He returned his attention to the papers on his desk. But suddenly the words and diagrams were all a blur. The rational part of him wished she’d leave. The thoroughly male part of him wished she’d come closer.

      Reese would not be dissuaded. “I haven’t seen anything of the city since I arrived,” she hedged. “Why don’t you be the gentleman I know you can be and take me out? Give me the twenty-five-cent tour before we leave for California.”

      “I beg your pardon?”

      “You can be a gentleman, can’t you?” she taunted, bracing her hips with her fists in a defiant stance. “You have to eat, so why do it alone?”

      “What makes you think I’ll be eating alone?”

      Her mouth curved up in a grin. “Writer’s instinct?” Her cocked eyebrow punctuated her point.

      Maxwell pushed away from his desk and stood up. “I think you need to sharpen up on your writer’s instinct, Ms. Delaware.” He paused then looked at her from beneath dark curly lashes. “But I wouldn’t want you to go back to Chicago believing all the negative things you’ve heard about New Yorkers.”

      She watched him as he crossed the room and retrieved his jacket from the rack. A tiny tingle of anticipation rippled in her stomach. This is just the beginning, Mr. Knight, she mused. I’ll get on the other side of that wall no matter what it takes. And you’re gonna have a good time while I’m getting there.

      Chapter 3

      “Do you come here often?” Reese asked, taking a bite from a succulent piece of batter-dipped fried chicken.

      “No. Actually, this is the first time. But I’ve heard a lot of the staff talk about Sylvia’s. They’ve always had good things to say about the food.”

      “Believe me, it’s almost good enough to have me make the trip from Chicago.” She grinned. “The atmosphere is great. It’s so cozy and personal.”

      “Hmm.”

      Reese took a sip of her chardonnay. “Where do you go? I mean—when you go out…on a date?”

      “Getting a bit personal, aren’t we?”

      She gave him that slow, Mona Lisa smile that made his mouth water. “It’s after hours, Boss Man,” she teased. “Time to lighten up and ‘Let It Flow,’ as Toni Braxton would say.”

      Maxwell flashed her a look as cool as the chinks of ice that floated in his glass. He leaned across the table, his voice descending to an intimate low. “Is that right, Ms. Delaware?”

      A rush of heat surged through her body. Her heart began to race. She lifted the crystal flute to her lips. Her eyebrows arched. “Very right, Mr. Knight.”

      “Will there be anything else, folks?” the waitress asked, successfully breaking their tenuous connection.

      Maxwell’s steamy stare never left Reese’s face when he asked, “Would you like something else?”

      “What I want I can’t get here,” she said, the seductive timbre of her voice winding its way through his heated bloodstream.

      “No. Thank you. You can bring the check,” he finally responded off-handedly.

      His dark, haunting eyes glided over her smooth features of milk chocolate, scorching her from the inside out. “Do you have any idea what you’re toying with?”

      Slowly her tongue darted out and she licked her lips. “Why don’t you tell me.”

      The corner of his mouth curled upward. “I’m not an easy man. I have no intention of building a relationship. I’m not looking for one, and I’m not interested in anyone that is. Still interested?”

      “You only think you’re not interested.” She lifted the glass to her dampened lips and smiled. “Your problem is, you haven’t found the right woman.”

      “And who might that woman be?”

      “That’s for you to discover.”

      Maxwell eased up out of his seat and came around behind Reese, helping her to her feet. Their bodies brushed. Maxwell inhaled from between clenched teeth when he felt the slight shiver run through her.

      “When you play with fire, Ms. Delaware, you’re liable to get burned.”

      She turned to face him and found herself breast to chest, belly to belly. To the casual observer, they appeared to be stepping into a mating dance, they were so close. Heat wafted around them.

      “Let the games being,” she breathed on a husky laugh.

      The ride back downtown from 128th Street in Harlem was conducted in a soothing silence, save for the smooth СКАЧАТЬ