she should.
“It
was a chronological situation, nothing more,” he said after a short pause,
never moving his electric, arrogant gaze from hers. “I never had the
opportunity to be naive or innocent.” He seemed to recollect himself and looked
away then, that smile sharpening as he did. Grace felt it as if he’d cut into
her, as if he’d carved symbols deep into her flesh. “But I doubt innocence
would have suited me, in any case.” When he looked at her again, he had gone
predatory. Male. Hot and knowing—and it made her melt and tremble, despite her
best intentions. “I was always far more proficient in sin.”
“So
I have read,” Grace said primly, ignoring the clamoring need in her own body. “At
length. It is what makes you such an excellent choice to head up the new
Hartington’s campaign. All women have already had numerous fantasies about you,
and all men wish they could be you. You are, yourself, the ultimate luxury
brand.” She smiled. Professionally. “Kudos.”
“ All women?” he asked, his eyes hard and
gleaming on hers—as, she realized on some level, she must have known he would.
Had
this man ever ignored a gauntlet thrust down before him? She knew, somehow,
that he had not. He smiled that wolf’s smile, and it connected hard with that
strange humming deep inside of her that grew louder the nearer he was. He was
everything she had spent her whole life fearing, avoiding. He made her into
someone else, someone lost in the shimmering heat that suffused her, the flame
of interest in his gaze. He made her feel things she’d never believed she was capable
of feeling. She could not seem to look away. For a long, spinning moment, she
could not find it in her to fight him—to fight the weakness in herself.
And
she knew that was as good as the death of her.
“Does
that mean you’ve fantasized about me, Grace?” he asked, in his seducer’s voice,
a low, sexy rasp that promised far too much she knew he could never deliver.
“I
believe I have already asked that you call me Ms. Carter,” Grace said, sounding
like a starchy, stereotypical schoolmarm sort of person, to her horror. Yet it
was exactly the image she strove to project, with her severely cut suits and
her scraped-back hair: efficient and competent. A vestal virgin, clutching her
pearls.
But
what other option did she have? She was trapped in the back of a car with a man
who exuded sex—long, slow, all-encompassing, masterful sex, for that matter,
from which one was unlikely to recover. And Grace knew what that kind of sex
meant, the damage it could and did wreak. She had seen it happen too many
times. She had lived it.
“You
should have said no, Gracie,” her mother had said so long ago, her face hard
and drawn, her eyes flashing the same censure Grace had seen everywhere else.
Her own mother, who should have known better—should have tried harder, Grace
had thought, to protect her daughter. But Mary-Lynn had made her choice. “You
should have said no, but you didn’t, and now you have to live with the
consequences.”
Sex
like that was a threat, Grace knew, shaking off the unpleasant past. Sex like
that was about power, and, ultimately, pain. She had never wanted anything to
do with it after the events of her senior year—but then, she had never met a
man who fascinated her on all the levels this man seemed to do. For the first
time in years, since she had set her course and focused exclusively on putting
the past behind her and excelling in her career, Grace felt lost.
“Is
that part of your fantasy?” Lucas asked, his voice low, suggestive. He shifted
closer to her, and Grace froze—her entire body, her very being, focused on the
heat he generated, on the
“It
was a chronological situation, nothing more,” he said after a short pause,
never moving his electric, arrogant gaze from hers. “I never had the
opportunity to be naive or innocent.” He seemed to recollect himself and looked
away then, that smile sharpening as he did. Grace felt it as if he’d cut into
her, as if he’d carved symbols deep into her flesh. “But I doubt innocence
would have suited me, in any case.” When he looked at her again, he had gone
predatory. Male. Hot and knowing—and it made her melt and tremble, despite her
best intentions. “I was always far more proficient in sin.”
“So
I have read,” Grace said primly, ignoring the clamoring need in her own body. “At
length. It is what makes you such an excellent choice to head up the new
Hartington’s campaign. All women have already had numerous fantasies about you,
and all men wish they could be you. You are, yourself, the ultimate luxury
brand.” She smiled. Professionally. “Kudos.”
“ All women?” he asked, his eyes hard and
gleaming on hers—as, she realized on some level, she must have known he would.
Had
this man ever ignored a gauntlet thrust down before him? She knew, somehow,
that he had not. He smiled that wolf’s smile, and it connected hard with that
strange humming deep inside of her that grew louder the nearer he was. He was
everything she had spent her whole life fearing, avoiding. He made her into
someone else, someone lost in the shimmering heat that suffused her, the flame
of interest in his gaze. He made her feel things she’d never believed she was capable
of feeling. She could not seem to look away. For a long, spinning moment, she
could not find it in her to fight him—to fight the weakness in herself.
And
she knew that was as good as the death of her.
“Does
that mean you’ve fantasized about me, Grace?” he asked, in his seducer’s voice,
a low, sexy rasp that promised far too much she knew he could never deliver.
“I
believe I have already asked that you call me Ms. Carter,” Grace said, sounding
like a starchy, stereotypical schoolmarm sort of person, to her horror. Yet it
was exactly the image she strove to project, with her severely cut suits and
her scraped-back hair: efficient and competent. A vestal virgin, clutching her
pearls.
But
what other option did she have? She was trapped in the back of a car with a man
who exuded sex—long, slow, all-encompassing, masterful sex, for that matter,
from which one was unlikely to recover. And Grace knew what that kind of sex
meant, the damage it could and did wreak. She had seen it happen too many
times. She had lived it.
“You
should have said no, Gracie,” her mother had said so long ago, her face hard
and drawn, her eyes flashing the same censure Grace had seen everywhere else.
Her own mother, who should have known better—should have tried harder, Grace
had thought, to protect her daughter. But Mary-Lynn had made her choice. “You
should have said no, but you didn’t, and now you have to live with the
consequences.”
Sex
like that was a threat, Grace knew, shaking off the unpleasant past. Sex like
that was about power, and, ultimately, pain. She had never wanted anything to
do with it after the events of her senior year—but then, she had never met a
man who fascinated her on all the levels this man seemed to do. For the first
time in years, since she had set her course and focused exclusively on putting
the past behind her and excelling in her career, Grace felt lost.
“Is
that part of your fantasy?” Lucas asked, his voice low, suggestive. He shifted
closer to her, and Grace froze—her entire body, her very being, focused on the
heat he generated, on the
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