“But I haven’t cooked—”
“Since you started this agency. It’s way past time. I postponed a meeting and traveled across town just for you to blow me off.”
His mouth curved into the smile she’d never been able to resist. “Besides, I’ll bring the ice cream.”
She glanced sideways at Elliot, who shrugged. Throwing her hands in the air, she gave in. “Okay, but it’d better be chocolate.”
“You’ve got it.”
With a slow nod Adam rose to his full height. Lauren let her gaze travel over all six foot three of him. His career in landscaping had left him sculpted and tanned. Even though he now spent most of his time supervising his own independent contracting company, he never turned his back on physical labor.
And it showed. Adam would have no trouble finding a wife.
Her heart thumped dully as she scooped a file from her desk. She didn’t want to think about Adam with a wife right now. “Great. We’ll finish this discussion then.”
“Can’t wait.”
She paused at the door, throwing one last glance at him. He emanated quiet strength and power. It was what people noticed most about him, though he seemed unaware of it.
Sunlight slanted through the office window, highlighting the angular planes of his face. She shivered. She knew no other face better than his, yet somehow it seemed she’d never really seen him before. Like when viewing a hologram, where a slight shift brought a new picture into view, her perspective of him altered in that moment. With his eyes shining and his wide lips curved in that playful tilt, she could almost see what all the women who had chased him must have seen.
“Well, goodbye,” she said, hoping he missed the funny catch in her voice.
He nodded as he turned his attention to the ringing cell phone he extracted from a holder on his belt.
Drawing a deep breath, she hurried after Elliot. Her pulse thudded and a thought she hardly let herself acknowledge whispered through her consciousness.
What would it be like to get naked together?
THE SUN SLIPPED below the horizon, casting long shadows across the porch as Lauren headed up the steps to her town house—a quaint brick-front featuring a small but private backyard. Balancing her mail, keys and bulging briefcase, she kneed open the door.
The scent of roses enveloped her as she dropped her load on an antique bench in the entry. She turned, inhaling the heavenly aroma, then stopped. A tall vase stood on the table gracing the opposite wall of the tiny foyer. Roses with delicate white petals crowded the vase, spilling over the sides.
An envy-filled sigh escaped her. Kamira Davies, her housemate, always dated the most considerate men. She’d received more flowers in the six months since she’d moved in than Lauren had received in her entire life.
“Lauren?”
Kamira emerged from the kitchen, her dark waves captured in a loose braid. Her green, almond-shaped eyes glittered with amusement as she wiped her hands on a dish towel. Nala, her silver tabby, glanced up from her spot by the window. “Beautiful, aren’t they?” Kamira asked, scratching the cat behind the ears.
“Gorgeous.” Lauren tore her gaze from the blooms. “Things are going well with Greg, then?”
“They’re okay, but these aren’t from Greg.”
“You’re seeing someone else?” Lauren asked, surprised.
“No. No. They’re not for me. They’re yours.”
“Mine?”
“That’s what the card says.” Kamira plucked a small envelope from beside the vase, and handed it to Lauren.
Frowning, Lauren scanned her name on the front, then read the neat writing on the enclosed card.
I send you a cream-white rosebud
With a flush upon its petal tips;
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on the lips.
—John Boyle O’Reilly (1844–1890)
She glanced up at her friend. “Love that is purest and sweetest?”
“I’ve never heard anything so romantic.”
“It doesn’t say who they’re from.”
“You don’t know?”
“Who do I know who would have the class to do such a thing? Besides Elliot, who obviously didn’t send them. It can’t be Todd. I haven’t heard from him in months, and roses, not to mention any pure, sweet love, were never his style.”
Her two-year relationship with software guru Todd Jeffries had ended some nine weeks ago, when he’d left the country to share his expertise with a company in Japan. He hadn’t understood why she wouldn’t chuck her job to go with him.
She turned to Kamira. “Are you sure they delivered them to the right address?”
“Definitely. Sure you aren’t keeping secrets?”
“I have no life. You know that.”
“Ah…then there’s only one thing it could be.”
“What’s that?”
Kamira squeezed her arm. “You, dear, have a secret admirer.”
SHE’S KEEPING SECRETS. Adam frowned later that evening as Lauren pulled her meat loaf from the oven, a mysterious smile curving her lips. She’d never kept anything from him before. What could it be? Steam rose around them, filling the kitchen with the spicy scent.
Beside her, he inhaled deeply, his worry easing with the distraction. If she ever realized how easily she could control him with the promise of her home cooking, he’d be in big trouble.
“Ah, I knew you still had it in you.” His gaze fell hungrily on the delicacy. “It’s a rare treat. You’ve been holding out on me.”
With a shake of her head, she set the pan on the stove. “You know I’ve been busy.” She cast him a sideways glance. “And I’m not getting into another argument about my long work hours. I’m doing something productive and worthwhile with my life. Nights like this will have to remain rare treats.”
“I can help you round up more business. Then you could hire an assistant to help out.”
“I appreciate the few clients you’ve referred. And I’ll certainly follow up on every lead you send my way, but you know how I feel about you trying to fix all my problems.”
“It doesn’t hurt you to accept a little help now and then.”
“And I have and I thank you. But I’m a big girl. This is my agency and it’s my responsibility to generate the business. You can’t do everything for me.”
Adam popped the top on a beer he’d pulled from the refrigerator. He handed the drink to her, before grabbing another for himself. He let the conversation drop. They’d discussed her work habits too many times already. Not that he’d quit doing what he could to round up clients for her. He ran into so many people while playing tennis and golf, that it wasn’t an effort to scrape up a referral or two. He just didn’t have to tell her what he was doing.
He took a sip and let his thoughts drift. Funny how the moment he’d said he needed a wife, he’d known it was true. Yes, this was what he wanted. A home-cooked meal and someone to share it with. Sipping wine at the local bistro just didn’t cut it anymore.
Not that Lauren spent her evenings casually sipping wine, unless she was courting a new client. Then there was nothing casual about it. The woman spent way too much time with her nose to