My body involuntarily shivered at the silky vibration. I admired his graceful tenacity but I had already come to expect that from him. “Sorry, but you’re not really my type.”
He pulled back but was still close enough for me to feel his radiating heat. I saw his seductive smile widen. “I am. But what do you think your type is?”
“Nice. Sweet. Caring. Not exactly a thrill-seeking CEO.”
His smile turned lopsided and he replied, “You’d be bored in a month. I think you want someone exciting who also makes you feel safe. I can do that.”
My thumb and forefinger pinched my chin in thought. “Hmm . . . you know that does sound appealing but as enticing as it is, I already told you, we can’t happen.”
“Professional concerns, I know.”
I raised a brow. “So you do listen.”
“When it involves your lips, you have my full attention.”
The tension in my shoulders relaxed and I felt a crack in my guard. He was both physically beautiful and demonstrating thoughtfulness. It wasn’t just the drink and remembering my roommate; he actually listened to my concerns. I decided to illustrate the situation to ensure we were on the same page. “You’re Romeo and I’m Juliet. If we get together, bad things will happen.”
“Is that it?” He carefully scanned the arena then returned his powerful gaze to me. “Because I don’t see your bosses anywhere. I thought a Waterbridge-Howser employee would be a little more creative when it comes to getting what she wants. You certainly strike me as the type.”
“What type?”
“A woman who gets what she wants. Harvard for economics? Working at a wealth management firm trying to get ahead when guys like your partner, Richard, are trying to screw you over or just screw you at every opportunity? You have to be both tough and smart to thrive in that environment.”
How did he know what I studied in school, or even where I went?
As if reading my mind, he said, “I looked up your background before I signed with your company. Remember, I’m trusting you with hundreds of millions of dollars.”
“I thought you made me your point-of-contact just to get into my pants.”
“I might be a risk-taker when it suits me, but I’m not a moron. You’re an impressive woman, Kristen.”
Well at least he knew how to make a girl feel good. And aroused. He shifted his legs closer to mine and in that moment, I could swear the alcohol must’ve reached my brain because all I could think about was the image of him ripping off those slacks in front of me like a male stripper. “Do you try to have sex with all the other impressive women you meet? Is this a conquest for you?”
He looked at me with surprise. “None as impressive as you.”
“Well, I’m flattered.” I really was, but my purposeful tone didn’t show it.
“I don’t see you as a conquest,” he added. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find your feistiness a turn-on.”
I blushed fiercely. “I have legitimate concerns.”
“Which brings us back to the topic you didn’t address. If all you have are professional concerns, it won’t be an issue keeping what we do just between us. We’ve kissed in my office and you still have your job.”
He had a point, but there were other reasons I was resisting him, and I wasn’t about to surface those skeletons. “It’s a risk I can’t take. As deliciously attractive as you are, I want my job more than I want you. I barely even know you. And you barely know me.”
“Then get to know me. Give this,” he gestured back and forth between me and himself, “a chance.”
“What are you saying?”
“A date. If it goes well, let’s have more. If not, we go back to a purely professional relationship. I promise, keeping one date a secret won’t be a problem.” He found a lock of my hair and curled it seductively between his fingers. “What we do is private. My lips are sealed.”
As exciting as the prospect of a date with Vincent was, his suggestion seemed inconsistent with his approach. Until now, he only seemed interested in having sex with me. Dating was a whole different beast and I wasn’t certain he grasped the significance. “Vincent, as thrilling as a date sounds, I’m not sure you understand what you’re proposing. A date isn’t sex. And if we went on one—not saying we would—but if we did, I’m telling you upfront we won’t be having sex. Maybe not even kissing.” The last part was added for emphasis.
I expected him to pull back but without skipping a beat he said, “I’m fine with that.”
His response gave me pause. “Did I miss something? I thought you just wanted a quick lay.”
“I spend the average week on three different continents so I don’t usually have time for a relationship. Hence, the direct approach. You’ve made it clear you aren’t the kind of girl who wants casual relations. I still want to see you. Taking it slow isn’t what I’m used to but I can adjust.”
“Is your concept of dating just a means to sex? I’m no prude but to me sex is a meaningful act between two people who share a connection. I’m not just going to add an extra hurdle for you to clear. You just raved about how smart I am and now you’re treating me like I’m an idiot.”
“Dating is whatever we make it. I want to show you I’m interested in you beyond just sex.”
His response was a relief. “Okay.”
“Is that a yes?”
Probably the result of the mojito coursing through my veins and Vincent’s pheromones swimming in my brain, I heard the words come out my mouth before I had time to process the implications. “Fine. One date.”
His stunning features lit up making him even more gorgeous.
“But,” I added, cutting off the words lingering on his tongue. “I need discretion. I don’t want to worry about my employer finding out about us.”
“I agree, it won’t be an issue. How’s eight tomorrow?”
“In the evening?”
“No, a.m.”
“Isn’t that a bit early for a date? What do you have in mind?”
“It’s a surprise.”
My head was spinning. “Okay . . . where do you want me to meet you?”
“I’ll pick you up.”
I nodded. “How can I know what to wear if you won’t tell me where we’re going or what we’re doing?”