Heating Up the Holidays 3-Story Bundle(17)

His lips quirk. “I like that you blush easily,” he says, not so discreetly letting me know that I did not hide my reaction to his flirtatious remark. He pats the seat next to him. “Come sit.”

How am I going to sit next to him and not combust?

That brow of his arches. “Intimidated?”

“Yes,” I say, deciding that hiding anything from this man is impossible. So why try? “Now you intimidate me.”

He reaches over the counter and takes my hand, pulling me around to stand beside him. “Well, news flash, sweetheart. I feel the same.”

I laugh in disbelief, trying to suppress a memory of his mouth on my nipple. “I don’t intimidate you. You’re a powerful CEO, with money, success, and so many women chasing you that your door staff thought I was one of them.”

He turns toward me, hitting me with the full force of his pale-green eyes. “If only they knew that you are the one running away.”

He might as well have taken a hammer to the raw nerves he’s hit. “I’m not running from anything.”

His hands go to my waist as they had earlier, and he lifts me and sets me on the stool. “Yes. You are. But you can’t run fast enough. That’s a lesson you still have to learn.”

I blink at him, not sure if he’s talking about me running from him or about something else. I want to ask, but his hands fall away and I am left cold and confused while he loosens his tie and then opens both of the take-out containers. “One noodle and chicken. One beef and rice.” He glances over at me. “I approve.”

“Why are you here?”

“Because you’re here.” He hands me a plastic fork and softens his voice. “Let’s eat, Kali.”

I wet my lips, and his eyes follow the action. I am suddenly hot and bothered and ready to reach over and yank his tie the rest of the way off. Flushing again, I turn away quickly, his soft laughter telling me once more that I am busted.

I jab the fork into the center of a piece of chicken, then reach for my drink and open it, searching my mind for a topic that will not make me overheat. He pops his can and changes the subject. “I saw your full résumé today. You’ve been at the reporting thing since college.”

I nod, picking at the food. “It’s been a passion for as long as I can remember.”

“Then why come to Vegas?”

“I was stuck doing fluff stories. I wanted to do grittier, darker stuff. I felt I’d paid my dues, and so did the folks who hired me here. Coming to Vegas was supposed to be my ticket into the mainstream.”

He reaches over and takes a bite from the container in front of me, then shoves his closer to me. “Try it. It’s good.”

I take a bite and he watches me. I watch him. And I think … I think he wants to kiss me. I know I want to kiss him. I thought this was a fast little fling, but he’s here and it feels like more. Like sharing this meal is somehow more intimate than what happened earlier.

“What else did you leave in Texas, Kali?”

The question is like a splash of ice water. “Nothing.”

“What about family and friends?”

“My best friend just moved out of state.” I scoot food around with my fork. “My father is still in Texas.”

“And what did he think about you leaving?”

I cut him a sideways look. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“He’s pretty busy running his law firm.”

“What kind of law?”

“Mostly corporate takeover kind of stuff.”

He lifts his drink. “Dirty business,” he says, taking a swig and setting the can down. “Takes a certain kind of person to stomach that.”

“My father stomachs it just fine.” But it makes me curious about how Damion landed his job. “Didn’t you do some kind of consulting before you took this job?”

“Reading up on me, are you?”

“I wanted to be prepared for my first day at work.”

“Another reason why hiring you was a good decision. I worked as a business consultant, and I have a knack for finding snakes in the grass.”

“Meaning what?”

“Inappropriate use of funds, among other things. It goes beyond experience and education for me both now and then. It’s like how asking questions is inbred in you. I go into an operation, and a gut feeling leads me to the places and problems I need to discover. And, let me tell you, the many ways this operation was being abused was mind-blowing. Another year and the mob would have owned it.”

“But the media—”

“Painted me as cutthroat. I know and I don’t care. I did what I had to in order to get the mob out of our operation, and that meant taking the public blows myself.”

“What made you stay in the job?”

“Stay? Who says I’m staying? I just never felt that the operation was ready for me to leave, and the board thought it was better to bring me on full time.”

“So you plan to leave.”

“When the time is right.”

“Which is when?”

“I’ll know when.” He sets his fork down and leans an elbow on the bar, facing me fully again. “What about your mother?” he asks, changing the subject again. “Or siblings? What does everyone else think about your move?”