Chapter Eighteen
The energy of the city hit Brie the second she shoved through the revolving door and stepped onto the sidewalk. The sun was out, and the street was crowded with people hustling to their own destinations.
She turned back to wait for Burns as he followed her outside. He adjusted his suit jacket, squinted as he glanced up, but a smile was on his face when he caught her eye. A real one.
Her heart did that useless dip-and-flip routine she couldn’t seem to stop no matter how hard she tried. It’d been weeks, and his smile still devastated her. It changed his entire appearance and set off a wave of wild thoughts and fantasies that had zero chance of becoming reality.
“That went well,” he said, glancing up the street.
“Yes. It did.” His mild optimism was just one of the things she’d come to expect with him. He wasn’t a man of wide-ranging emotions, at least that he let show. “The new information will benefit our latest property findings.”
“It does.” He nodded to her as they headed toward his car. He’d driven them across town for the deposition at the opposing counsel’s office.
His clipped words put another smile on her face. The efficiency of his speech was a direct reflection of the man himself. Nothing was ever wasted. Not his time, thoughts or actions. And that simple fact alone irritated more people than appeased, but she liked it. It meshed with her own productive tendencies.
She automatically slowed as he did. Her thoughts were racing ahead to the documents she needed to pull and the additional research to be done. The billable hours on this case were well beyond any she’d had under Mr. Cummings.
Her focus jerked back to the present when Burns opened a door. He waited, brow raised.
A quick glance at the building had her frowning. “What?”
“Come on, Wakeford.” He motioned with his head toward the restaurant. “I’ll buy you dinner and a drink.”
His words wouldn’t penetrate her brain. “Why?” She glanced at her watch. There were still two to three hours left of work they could get done that night.
He stared at her, his head slowly swiveling. “It’s dinner time. I’m hungry. And there is nothing that has to be finished tonight.”
“Oh.” That was the extent of her brilliant comeback. She stepped forward, stopped. “You don’t have to buy me dinner.” The idea of sharing a quiet meal with him bordered too close to personal territory when she was barely controlling her emotions as it was.
Her Libido Bitch was not backing down.
And that was creating more havoc than she wanted to admit. Because in truth, she was falling harder for him every damn day, and most of that had nothing to do with her libido. Her mother would’ve cheered if she’d known, but only if Brie “snagged” him too. That term alone gave her a gigantic reason to slap her longing down.
He released a heavy sigh, his lips compressing in a sure sign of suppressed frustration. She’d become very familiar with that look over the last weeks.
She bit back a smile, nodding. “Fine.” She moved forward, a quiet “thank you” sent as she passed him. She inhaled long and slow in a move that only punished herself. That distinctive scent of his cologne filtered in to tease her with the longing that never really died.
She held both in—the air and his scent. Her stomach twisted around every promise she’d laid down for herself before she’d walked back into the office so many weeks ago.
No lustful thoughts. No dreams. No fears. No mention of those two amazing encounters. The Boardroom had no place in the office. None. Zero. Zip.
But those rules hadn’t stopped her from speculating every time she entered their corporate boardroom. Did those private sex events take place there? When? Did Ryan participate?
He followed her inside, his presence tingling over her back. The continued hyperawareness of him was slowly driving her insane. And it showed no sign of diminishing anytime soon. The awareness or the insanity.
She clutched her briefcase in her hands, nerves rattling her chest, skin stretched tight in that familiar crush of restraint. This was just a business dinner. Nothing more.
“A table for two, please.”
The lowered tone in his voice took her back to the Boardroom and every luscious, intimate thing he’d done to her. The rumbled groans and—God! She gave her thoughts a silent shake. She had to keep her shit together.
The hostess led them to a table near the back. The small booth provided a sense of privacy even though the place wasn’t busy yet. More bistro than restaurant, the casual atmosphere helped set her headspace in the professional mode.
This was very not a date. Not even close.
She focused on the short menu, suddenly starved now that she’d stopped to notice. That usually happened, especially when she got lost in work.
“It all looks good,” she remarked.
“It does.”
She looked up, heart catching when she found him studying her. The heat in his gaze had to be imagined, right? But why? Why did she keep denying what he wasn’t trying to hide?
She lowered her menu, mouth going dry. “Have you decided?” She lifted her chin toward his menu, eyes never leaving his. She wasn’t backing down if he was issuing a challenge of some sort.
“Do you drink wine?” he asked instead.
Did she drink wine? In general, or with him? “Yes.”
“Red or white?”
“I prefer reds.”
The corner of his mouth turned up in that quirk of a smile he used more and more around her. The amusement danced into his eyes to shove away a bit of that sizzling heat. The rich brown color had a way of drawing her in if she let it. Especially when he let his guard down, like now. Another thing that was happening more frequently.
“You?” she asked when the silence grew.
He lifted a shoulder. “Reds. I guess.”
She smiled at that. “You guess?” She loved that he admitted that given the abundance of wine snobbery that prevailed in the area.
“It’s wine,” he stated with a quick twist of his lips. The rare show of true emotion was yet another surprise. “I don’t think it requires an opinion.”
Her laughter bubbled out in a freeing release. “I think you’re one of the few with that outlook.” Some of the tension drained from her shoulders as she settled back in the booth.
“What’s the point in being like everyone else?” he countered before shifting his attention to their waiter.
Burns was definitely not like anyone she knew. And there was so much about him she still didn’t know. But she wanted to, and that was a problem.
She waited until their orders were placed and the waiter left before she questioned him on his choice of wine. “Syrah? I thought you didn’t have an opinion on wine.”
He tipped his head, a smile forming. “Just because I don’t have an opinion doesn’t mean I’m not knowledgeable.”
Of course it didn’t. She begrudgingly gave him that point, her own smile spreading. He could be charming when he let himself be. Kind too. Gracious and generous.
She hunted for an inkling of the resentment or hurt that’d hammered her when she’d discovered he was her secret fantasy man. She found none. In many ways, this man sitting across from her wasn’t him. No, this man had the potential to be even more dangerous, if she wasn’t careful.
“Is that true for a lot of things for you?” she asked. He was wicked smart, yet offered so few opinions about any topic, unlike a large majority of people in the world today. It seemed like everyone had a judgment of some kind that they brandished on social media without fear or thought.
“I suppose.” He loosened his tie, slipping his fingers beneath the knot to undo the top button. The move had become almost familiar to her now. He could relax, some. Even in public. “But just because I don’t share my opinion doesn’t mean I don’t have one.”
She smothered a smile. “Do you ever not debate?”
“Yes.” He waited a beat, face serious. “But it’s more fun if I do.”
“For you, maybe.”
He nodded, smiling just a touch. “Sometimes that’s the only fun I have.”
“Ouch.” Her reflexive thought was out before she’d thought better of it. Was he serious? How...sad. Her heart went out to him when she knew it shouldn’t. But how could it not?
“Why ouch?” His brows dipped, his fingers curling into a fist.
How did she answer without sounding patronizing? “What do you like to do in your spare time?” she asked instead, hoping to dodge his question.
“What does it matter?”
“Just answer me.” She leaned in, intrigued now. “What else occupies your time?”
The corner of his mouth turned up, a hint of mischief lighting his eyes. “Now you’re assuming that what occupies my time is also something I like to do.”
Her groan was long and tortured as she slumped back in the booth. She leveled a glare at him. “You can be so infuriating.”
“I’ve been told that once or twice.” His serious note left her pondering the depth of his meaning once again. Did he ever really open up?
Yes. In the Boardroom.
She’d felt the depth and passion he didn’t seem to show anywhere else, not even in the courtroom.
Her phone buzzed in her bag, sending a jolt of annoyance through her. She’d turned her phone back on after the deposition and now wished she hadn’t.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. She glanced at the text alert only long enough to see her mother’s name. There’d been three waiting for her earlier, all having to do with yet another “eligible” son of so-and-so.
Her annoyance doubled down to trigger her resentment. Her mother would crow with delight if she knew who Brie was having dinner with—and then she’d start maneuvering to see how extensive his connections were, and if they could benefit her.
Brie switched her phone to silent and tucked it back in her bag.
“Is everything okay?” Ryan asked. Concern drew his brows together, which loosened her own.
“Yes.” She forced a small smile as reassurance. “It was just my mother.”
His chin lowered slightly, eyes narrowing. “Does she text you a lot?”
Her harsh bark of laughter contained a heavy amount of the bitterness still churning in her stomach. “Yeah,” she finally said, her tone saying more than she’d intended.
His low humph was at odds with the speculation that darkened his eyes before his frown eased.
Brie took a long, steadying breath and hunted for a conversation topic far away from her mother as Ryan went through the motions of approving the wine.
“Can I ask you something?” she dared after their wine was poured. She hummed her appreciation for the Syrah he supposedly didn’t care about. Even so, his taste was drastically better than Lori’s when it came to wine.
He lowered his glass, caution emanating from him. “Sure. I can’t promise I’ll answer.”
“Of course not.” Her laugh blended with her sigh. She took another sip of her wine, eyeing him over the glass. Was it possible to truly understand what made him tick? Would he let anyone get that close? “Why Carla?” she finally asked.
“Why not Carla?” he returned without a blink.
She barely held back another groan. She dropped her head back instead, amused and annoyed, but a smile held when she looked to him. That reflex to deflect and debate was just...him.
“Well...” How did she word this without sounding bitchy? “She’s not who I would have imagined as your ideal assistant.”
It was really none of her business, but after weeks of working with both of them, she couldn’t figure out why he kept her when he could succinctly cut down an associate when his standards weren’t met.
“She does her best.” He took a drink of his wine, his hold on the stem appearing delicate beneath his fingers.
Brie cocked a brow. “And her best is good enough for you?”
“It is.” That was it. His expression gave away nothing. She’d learned to read it, though. This was the clear FU-and-I-dare-you-to-call-me-on-it look.
“All right,” she said, backing off. “She’s nice.”
He gave a single nod that didn’t expand on his thoughts at all. No surprise there. Yet she couldn’t help wondering why Carla’s best was okay when he was so hard on others.
“Carla is the sole guardian of her four grandchildren,” Ryan said without preamble or emotion. He dipped his head, the hard line of his mouth softening. “And she has a good heart,” he added. “In this field, it’s nice to be reminded that not everyone is out simply to get ahead.”
A rush of tenderness spread through her chest as she added compassionate to her list of Ryan descriptors.
Their dinner arrived, and Brie let the topic slide. The food smelled wonderful. She sucked in a long breath, savoring the aromas. The apparently simple dish held hints of unexpected flavors so like the man sitting across from her.
Evening had settled into night when they returned to his car. Their conversation had returned to work through their meal, and a part of her was happy about that. The other part, the sluggish, mellow, probably-shouldn’t-have-had-that-last-glass-of-wine one, was sad. He’d never answered her question about what he liked to do outside of work.
Did he have any hobbies? Friends?
She studied him as he drove back to their office. His car was luxury defined. She wasn’t surprised by that. It was all part of the expected partner image. Just like the tailored suits, silk ties and perfect hair. And he wore the look beautifully.
But that wasn’t the only side of him. Did Ryan only make appearances in the Boardroom? Did he trust anyone with his secrets? His dreams?
“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked without preamble.
His gaze jerked to her, brows drawn, but she didn’t look away from his icy glare. Maybe it was the wine or simple apathy, but she wasn’t intimidated by him.
He refocused on the road. His jaw flexed. “No.”
A soft, knowing smile spread over her lips. “Why not?” She shifted in her seat to see him better.
The little jump in his jaw went off again. Her smile grew.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” His counterattack happened right on cue. His words were clipped with impatience, and there was that cinched-lip thing he did.
Her low laugh had his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. Poking at him was fun. “No,” she answered when her laughter died out. “I wouldn’t have gone to the Boardroom if I had.”
His focus stayed on the road, which gave her the freedom to admire his profile. The clean-shaven look rarely disappeared on him. Would there be stubble in the morning? Did he have hair on his chest? A treasure trail?
She cursed the blindfold for all that it’d hidden. But she never would’ve gone to the Boardroom without it.
“Why did you?” he asked, startling her. “Go to the Boardroom?”
She should’ve anticipated that question given his excellent interrogation skills. Her smile spread once again. The expected shame or embarrassment didn’t flood her this time. No, there was only a casual awareness of why she shouldn’t answer him. Of why this entire conversation was dangerous.
She couldn’t seem to care. Not right now.
“Freedom,” she finally said, voice soft. “Defiance. Desire. Curiosity.” The pure exhaustion of always doing what was expected of her. “Rebellion.” She added the last with a coarse scoff.
His brow flicked up at that, but he didn’t look at her.
“Why did you?” she asked. Turnabout was fair play. “Join the Boardroom?”
His lip quirked, his shoulders relaxing as he loosened his hold on the steering wheel. “For the sex.”
She waited a beat for more. Her burst of laughter broke free when nothing came. “Of course.”
He shrugged, sending a sly glance her way. There was a solid smirk on his lips now. Even that looked good on him. What didn’t?
“Why else?” She wasn’t letting him get off that easily.
“Why does there have to be another reason?”
“Because you can get sex anywhere.” Especially a guy as good-looking and successful as him.
“Can you? Truly?” He came to a stop at a light and looked over. There was honest question in his expression, and she braced for the coming debate, that stupid smile of hers still slapped in place. “Without fear or risk of attachment and consequences?”
“And the Boardroom offers all of that? Really?” She doubted it. Nothing was a hundred percent risk-free.
The light changed, and he refocused on the road. “As close as anyone can get.”
She had no comeback for that. She wouldn’t have gone herself if she hadn’t been guaranteed those things. “It’s just the sex then. Nothing else?”
“Wakeford.” The warning in his voice was lost in the hushed chuckle that followed. He shook his head, a smile breaking free. “You’re trying to torture me, right?”
Her eyes sprung wide. “No. Not really.” But it was definitely fun. “I’m just curious.”
The quiet confines of the car seemed to insulate them from the rest of the world. This was just between them. Safe. She had no quantifiable proof of that, but it embraced her nonetheless.
“Why am I not surprised?”
“I could say the same about you,” she countered. “Now answer my question.”
He let out a frustrated growl that sent a rush of goose bumps down her neck and arms. Her nipples tightened, adding to the sudden flash of heat. Impressions of the Boardroom flew into her mind in the next breath. That same sound. His passionate touch, firm hold.
She swallowed.
He shoved his fingers through his hair, holding the short strands before he let his hand fall back to the steering wheel. An odd shot of resignation laced his tone when he answered. “Because it is a risk,” he practically snarled. He pierced her with a quick dagger-eye that clearly warned her to drop it.
Yeah, no. “And that excites you.” It had for her. The risk had been part of the draw.
His deep inhalation lifted his chest. “Why are you pushing this?”
She shrugged. “Just curious.”
His sarcastic huff of annoyance only drove her more. Her line of questioning was getting to him, and she found that fascinating. Nothing broke through his collected shell.
But this conversation had.
A calm reserve settled over him in a wave of controlled movements. His chin ticked up, shoulders settling as he drew them back. One of his hands shifted down the steering wheel to grip it lightly from the bottom. The air of frustration was wiped away with a slow breath and long exhale.
And just like that, Ryan was gone—or the small glimpse she’d gotten of him was. Sadness wove its way in to pluck at the tender barrier around her heart. Was he afraid? Who had hurt him so badly that he couldn’t let his guard down—ever?
Except in the Boardroom.
“Have you gone back?” she asked into the quiet. The road noise was nonexistent in the luxury soundproofing. The black interior added another level to the dark hush that bled into the leather seats and silver accents. Her pulse was steady, nerves silent as she softly added, “Since...me?”