WHEN VICTORIA GOT BACK to work, she headed straight for Malory’s office.

“How’s the baby?” Malory asked.

“So far so good. You asked me to pass along any information I came across that might help with the audit.”

Malory’s eyes grew wide. “Yes, definitely. Anything.”

She relayed the information Tristan gave her, leaving out the fact it came from Ralph Wolfram wrapped in thinly veiled innuendo and extortion. “I know it’s not much, but I hope it helps.”

“It’s a direction. Thank you.”

Victoria returned to her desk, more in the mood to focus on work than she had been in days. Uncertainty was bad, but knowing where to look was nice. She made several successful calls, including a couple of cold-calls to new prospects, and felt decent about work in general at the end of the day.

She lingered a little longer than her colleagues after work, to make up for the lost time from her appointment, then headed out to the parking lot.

As she approached her car, the streetlamp a few spots down illuminated someone standing next to the driver’s door. Her heart skipped against her ribs at the sight of Tristan’s familiar muscular build.

He straightened as she drew closer. She tried keep her glee at seeing him hidden, but she couldn’t fight her smile.

“I stood you up earlier. Let me make it up to you.” He reached out when she was close enough, and pulled her to him.

She should push him away, given the public nature of their surroundings, but it felt good to press against his chest, his arm around her waist. “This isn’t being private or subtle about our relationship. My co-workers park back here too. What if they talk?”

“People will always talk.” He moved his hand under her jacket and sweater, resting his palm against the bare skin of her back.

Warmth spilled over her.

“If they didn’t have the audit to talk about, they’d gossip about the fact that I’m a perverted older man, taking advantage of a young, innocent starlet. There will always be gossip,” he said.

“You are kind of a pervert.”

He pulled her closer, his semi-hard erection digging into her stomach. “Only for you. My point is, I don’t like keeping this a secret, but if you’re worried about what people will say, tell them I’m your high-priced gigolo.”

She laughed and shifted to rest a hand against his chest. Her visit to the doctor’s office nudged her memory. “Speaking of, if someone were to ask, and we weren’t keeping things under wraps, what would you really want me to tell them about us?”

“Hmm... Is this like a pet name thing? Because I’m going to get jealous if anyone else calls you Vicky.” He traced his lips along the edge of her ear.

A pleasant shiver that had nothing to do with the cold night ran through her. “Trust me, no one else is calling me that. I mean... are we still just fucking?”

“There’s no just about it, and I hope not.” He cupped her cheek, drawing her gaze to his. “How about Baby Daddy?”

She slapped his arm playfully. “You’re being impossible.”

He grabbed her wrist, holding her captive, and crushed his mouth to hers. The intensity, and the way it contrasted with the teasing, lit her veins on fire. She groaned against his mouth, disappointed when he broke away.

“Stud Muffin?” he asked. “Sexy Beast? Boyfriend?”

“I like that last one. The others are pretentious, even for you.”

He placed a series of soft nibbles along her bottom lip. It’s settled then. I’ll be your boyfriend, and you’ll be my Vicky.”

She liked the sound of that better than she ever imagined possible. “It’s settled.”

“Now, the real reason I’m here.” He pushed away from her car, taking her with him, and steered them the two rows down to his Subaru.

“To make out in the parking lot?”

They stopped near the passenger side, and he kissed along the side of her neck. “I like the way you think. We can add that to the docket.” He opened the door, but didn’t let her go to sit. “But I was thinking, I take you out for dinner, then take you home and keep you for breakfast.”

“Out?” She winced as the question slipped past her lips. It needed to be asked, though. They were still under scrutiny, and now that they knew Wolfram initiated things, her concerns about people in their shared network seeing them felt founded.

He sighed. “I really don’t like the idea of secret boyfriend."

“Are you willing to tell Mischa about us?” Maybe that wasn’t a fair question. She didn’t know what she wanted his answer to be.

His hesitation made her thoughts stall, and then he said, “Yes.”

“Really?” She couldn’t keep the disbelief from her voice.

“Really.” Tristan was more confident this time. “I’ll call him right now if that’ll make you say yes. It’s Wednesday night. Not exactly a high-traffic evening for social activities. We’ll go somewhere that we’re not going to run into anyone who drifts in Ralph’s circle. The fifties diner a few blocks down makes a wicked flavored soda.”

“This is a big deal to you.” Her smile was nudging its way back. Despite her reservations, it was sweet that he didn’t want to hide them.

“You’re a big deal to me.” He searched her eyes.

She didn’t know what he was looking for, but she hoped he found it. “Dinner sounds fantastic.”

He grinned, then held her hand until she was seated. A moment later he slid into the driver’s side. “I promise you’ll have fun tonight.”

She didn’t doubt it for a moment.

He pulled onto the main road, then rested his hand on her knee. Traffic still moved at a crawl, from light to light, as people headed home for the night. As the car inched along, Tristan inched his fingers up the inside of her thigh. The slow teasing made her squirm. An inch at a time tingling over her skin.

He trailed along the lace at the top of her stockings. “Thigh highs.”

“They make me feel sexy.”

“I can’t argue that.” His tone was low and husky. He slid higher, pushing her skirt up between her legs. A new thrill raced through her as she realized that if anyone glanced toward them, they’d have a good idea of what he was up to.

His eyes never leaving the road, he twisted his hand to brush along the crotch of her panties. He must feel how damp she was, even through the fabric. This was wicked and delicious, and she wanted more.

She shifted her hips, sliding lower in the seat, to press against his fingers, and groaned when he obliged.

She worked against his touch as he drove, diving into the sensation, and riding the edge of climax.

“Fuck, Vicky.” He pulled into a parking garage across the street from the diner, and navigated them to an almost-empty level. He shut off the engine and whirled in his seat to face her. “I want to watch your face when you come.”

He pushed her panties aside and dipped between her folds. She tried to hold his gaze, but when he nudged her swollen sex, her eyes fluttered shut, and she moaned.

“Jesus.” His voice was full of gravel.

Anyone could walk past them at any minute. They shouldn’t be doing this here. It was the opposite of low-profile.

None of that mattered right now. The only thought she could hold for more than a second was how good it felt to have him stroking her. He dipped two fingers inside, spreading her out, then slid back to the focal point of her need.

Orgasm spilled inside, and she lifted her ass off the seat to get closer to his touch, grinding against his hand until she was too sensitive to take any more.

Something brushed her bottom lip, and she realized it was his finger. She opened her eyes to watch him as she drew the digit into her mouth, sucking her juices from it. The throaty growls that rumbled from his chest were intoxicating, and she moved on to the next.

“Your turn.” She smirked.

“I don’t—” He groaned when she traced his erection through his slacks.

She liked having that reaction on him. She knelt in her seat. “You’ll keep an eye out, right? Make sure no one catches us?” As she spoke, she slid down his zipper.

“Sure.”

She freed him from his boxers, eliciting a delicious sound. Lowering her head, she traced her tongue up his shaft, circling the head of his cock before taking him in her mouth.

As she sucked and stroked, he moved his hand back to her ass, gliding along one cheek, and inching her skirt up.

She should stop him. This wasn’t a maybe someone can figure out what we’re up to anymore. From this position, he was giving anyone who walked by a perfect view of her pussy.

There was no one around, but if there was, she hoped they enjoyed what they saw. She pressed back into his touch as best she could, while still sucking him off. She wanted to focus on what he was doing, but she fell into her own actions instead.

The thrust of his hips against her face was as arousing as the way he trailed along her lower lips. She could tell from the way his breathing increased, the sharp grunts, that he was close.

A warm, salty spurt hit the back of her throat, and she kept her pace steady. Stroking and sucking until he slowed to a stop. She pulled away, laying gentle licks along his tender skin, and relishing the way he shuddered each time.

He pulled her up to kiss her, diving his tongue into her mouth. His hand was still between her legs, and it didn’t take much coaxing to bring her to climax again.

Tristan swallowed her cries when she came. Her entire body shook with the sensations of being pushed this way twice in a row.

She finally pulled away reluctantly, to sit.

“Take your panties off,” he whispered in her ear.

“Why?” She did as she ordered, despite the question.

He snatched them from her hands and stuck them in the glovebox. “Because I like the idea of the cool air against your wet skin, reminding you what we did. Looking everyone in the eye and keeping that secret between us.”

“You really are a pervert.”

“Yup.” He kissed her again, then hopped from the car to escort her to the restaurant.

Dinner was a blast. She didn’t remember the last time she had so much fun with something as simple as going out for burgers and fries. The company was incredible. The way he teased her occasionally, by drawing his fingers along the inside of her thigh, was exhilarating. And the knowledge she got to go home with Tristan at the end of the night was better than the handspun milkshakes they had for dessert.

As they were leaving, an older couple waited for the hostess to seat them.

“Tristan,” the man said.

Victoria did a quick match of their faces against the list of contacts she kept in her mind. Mary and Vance, from the country club dinner. Her dinner turned to lead in her stomach. They were one of the couples who had been gossiping about Ash. He was the man who’d joked about buying Victoria’s companionship for the evening.

“We’ll make it fast,” Tristan whispered in her ear.

She adopted her professional mask and the joined the older couple. Handshakes and greetings were exchanged.

“Are you soliciting more donations?” Vance asked her with a flat chuckle.

Victoria slid into the phoniness. “Always on the clock.”

“How far along are you, hon?” Mary nodded at Victoria’s stomach.

“Fourteen weeks.” The answer slipped out without thought, and she hid her cringe, wishing she could take it back. Or at least not place the date of conception so conveniently close to the night of the dinner.

They wouldn’t do that math though. She was the only person who was being that specific. She had to believe it, or she’d panic.

“Make sure to keep us on your registry list. We’re always good for one more donation.” Mary’s sickly-sweet implication that Victoria needed the handout was worse than Vance’s innuendo.

Victoria’s smile wilted. “Thanks.”

“Lovely seeing you both again,” Mary said as their hostess led them to their table.

Anger and humiliation washed over Victoria, erasing the chill as they stepped outside.

“I fucking hate those people.” Tristan’s friendly tone was gone.

She didn’t care for them either, but something bigger bothered her. “What are the odds that exchange makes its way into the gossip mill?”

“I wish I knew.”