Controlled Response

"You've got some formidable shields, and I'm not going to apologize for using the resources I have to get past them. Because you know as well as I do that what's upset you has nothing to do with me getting up your skirt. If that was the case, you never would have stopped me a month ago. It would have been a fun fuck, and two adults would have gone their separate ways.



"But I got in. In just those few minutes. So you're scared shitless about what I'm going to find now that I'm there. Which means it matters to you." A grim smile touched his mouth, though his eyes remained hard. "Which also gives me hope that this is more to you than just getting into my pants."



She fixed her attention stonily on his chest. "I had it all planned out. I was going to use you and cast you aside."



"Like yesterday's Wall Street Journal" Lucas sighed, gathered her in, letting his chin rest on top of her head. "You know, some of those articles are good reference material."



As she let out a muffled snort, Lucas rubbed his hands up and down her back. "God, I want to get you out of this damn thing, feel your skin."



She couldn't agree more, but she drew back. "Lucas, let me put on my shoes."



"No, you're right. You'll break your neck in these."



"I'm not walking into the K&A lobby with the CFO in nothing but bare feet."



"Okay." Letting her go, he pulled off one loafer and then the other as she watched, nonplussed. He considered his black dress socks. "We had a sliding contest down here, late one night."



"A what?"



"Sliding. You run fast and then slide in your socks across a slick floor? We had a bet on who could slide the farthest from a certain point. Kind of like shuffleboard, with people.



Then we did all sorts of crazy acrobatics. We had an audience of homeless people standing outside the window, staring at us before it was all over."



"Who won?" Cass asked, for lack of anything else to say, her mind torn between the intensity of their exchange only a breath ago, and the whimsy of seeing the K&A team play like boys in their own lobby.



"Peter. Damn mutant cyborg. He can run the fastest. I guess that's a good thing, since when people are trying to blow you up or put bullets in your ass, being fast is important."



She shook her head. "You're insane."



"We're human, Cass. That's all. We're all kids playing grown-up. We do the best we can."



Taking her hand and holding his shoes, he walked into the lobby. She thought about digging in, but the floor was slick enough he'd probably haul her forward like a sled dog, so she went along with him.



Traffic flow was always steady through the K&A lobby, and today was no exception.



Some of the faces were known to her, but somehow with Lucas holding her hand and moving along as if it was the most normal thing in the world to be padding across the floor in his socks, her in stocking feet, she was able to assume an almost nonchalant air.



As the receptionist gave them an amused glance, they won a snort from the security guard, who obviously knew Lucas. Then they were past, heading for the revolving door.



"You're shorter this way," he commented. "Petite, like a doll."



"If you say Barbie, I'll sweep your legs and crack your skull on your pretty shiny floor."



"Ouch. Kung fu Barbie." Laughing, he dodged her shove, came back, and claimed her hand. "There's the biker chick who stole my heart." Guiding her into the revolving door, he took the same section, crowding her until they emerged into the crisp fall air that nevertheless was full of sunshine. When she started to put on her shoes, he shook his head, pulled her out of the flow of foot traffic. "Feel the warmth through the concrete."



"My stockings will tear. And the rest of me is a little cold."



"I swear, you're as bad as working with metal. A man has to fire you up to get you to bend." Gathering her against him, he wrapped her up in the open panels of his suit coat.



"Now, feel the heat through your soles. Doesn't that feel good?"



Cass resisted the urge to bury her face into his shirt, rub her cheek against his chest beneath the stretched cotton. Instead, she tipped her head back to look at his eyes, narrowed against the glare, the sun forming a halo limning his golden hair.



Yeah, right. Definitely a trick of the light, that. "Yes," she admitted, glad he didn't know what felt so good to her. The strength of his arms, his body pressed close. The coat around her, the way she'd imagined.



"Here comes our limo, to take us to lunch." At her arch glance, he shrugged. "What's the benefit of being a big shot at K&A if you can't use the limo pool for lunch?"



"You don't have a car?"



He grinned. "You saw it in my office."



"You ride your bike to work? Where do you live? Are you insane?" She looked at the busy downtown traffic.



"It was about ten miles in New Orleans. Here it's about fifteen. It's a good way to start the day. I do have a car," he added. "I only use it when I have to. Green footprint, and all that."



"Glad to hear it. Because I'm not going on a date on handlebars or pedal pegs."



"Progress." He smiled, holding her closer, his hands low on her hips. "You're calling it a date."



Cassandra didn't want to be so comfortable in his company. She needed to be out of sorts with him, convince herself she felt used, exposed, forced to an unwelcome vulnerability.



But she wasn't in the habit of lying to herself. She could avoid what she didn't want to think about, though. So for the time being she decided not to dwell on the fact he'd made her do the unthinkable. As well as left her with a frightening need for more of him.



In the limo, he slid an arm along the back of the seat, giving her a loose sense of being encircled, particularly when he toyed with her hair, coaxed her with amusing guile into leaning across him as he pointed out a landmark of interest. When she leaned back, she found his arm settled on her shoulder, holding her closer.



"I said lunch," she said. "Then you said I could walk away."



"Is that what you want to do?" he asked. "Walk away? Why won't you give this a shot, Cass?"



"I don't really have a choice, Lucas. My life has no room for something like this. Much as I might want it." She needed to give him that, but she almost regretted it because the softening of his expression made her wish fiercely she had more to give him.



"There are always choices. Let's at least talk about what the obstacles might be. Let me get to know you," he insisted. "I want to know you."



"I can't—" Thank God, her cell rang, but then she saw the caller ID. No, not right now.



The timing couldn't be worse, or more ironic. She told herself to ignore it, even as she knew she couldn't. Any more than she could cover the questions it would raise.



Suppressing a desire to scream, she opened the cell.



"Yeah, George. How long ago? You should have called me." She bit her lip. "Yes, I know you're busy. No, I'll come get him. Yes, I will. Damn it, George, we've been through this. I can't." She shook herself. "I'll just be there in a minute, okay?"



When she got off, Lucas's eyes were on her face. Miserably, she averted her own, looked out the window at a world where the sun had dimmed, and everything she'd just done and enjoyed was laced with bitterness. "I'm going to have to skip lunch. If you'll stop, I'll get a taxi."



"Cass. Tell me what's going on." Tiredness had taken over her features the moment she looked at her caller ID, and there was a pain in her eyes Lucas wanted to erase. He touched her hand, but she drew away, shook her head.



"My brother has some problems. He got picked up. Again. I need to go get him."



"This is one of the reasons you think I shouldn't get involved with you." When she pressed her lips together, he sat back, suppressing his own frustration. "Max, take us to the District One police station, will you? I assume that's where he is?"



"What?" Her gaze snapped to him. "I don't want you involved in this."



"Tough. Now tell me what we're dealing with."



"We're not dealing with anything," she said sharply. "I'm just going to get him. This is my business, Lucas. There's no need to involve yourself."



"No need at all, if my interest was only in your beautiful body and eager pussy." He'd pitched his voice low, but it still made her attention jerk toward the driver then back to him, her face burning.



"That's not what I meant," she hissed.



"Yeah, it was. You like men, Cass, but you view them like pets.



You can only count on them for certain things, and you're wholly responsible for taking care of them. Which, for what a dog or cat provides us, is a wonderful symbiotic relationship. When you apply that to a human, it's way too much work."



"Don't you analyze me," she warned. "We're not in a board room now. I can make Max stop this limo, tell you to kiss my ass and go on my way."



"We're almost there." Lucas studied her. "I'm not trying to threaten you, Cass."



"Yes, you are," Cass retorted. She tossed circumspection out, since he already had.



"Okay, we can do sex. Hell, I'd be happy to fuck our mutual brains out. You're the first man I've met in a while that might actually do the trick without taking too much time out of my day and still be satisfying. But my cunt is not the gateway into my life."



The limo veered, a quick brake. Lucas sent a grimly amused glance toward the front. "All right up there, Max?"



A cleared throat and the driver, a man who looked to Cass like he also served as a bouncer, spoke. "Er, yes, Mr. Adler. I'll just, uh, raise the glass. I'd like to listen to some music."



"You can stop right here, Max, and let me out," she ordered.