Hardwired (The Hardwired Series 1)(32)

Love? Leave it to Marie, the hopeless romantic, to even think it. Blake was a magnificent distraction, but that had nothing to do with love.

I masked a cringe at the mention of the word and asked about her new beau, Richard. She quickly changed course, filling me in the details of their last date. I had no room in my life for love right now.





* * *

I slipped into the sexy, overpriced cocktail dress. Marie had helped me pick it out. Solid black, with a thin white strip along the tulip hem, the garment was dressy but still suited the hot day with tiny spaghetti straps and light layers of chiffon. I paired the outfit with some strappy heels and silver dangle earrings, and I pinned my hair up in a loose bun. We would see what Blake had to say about all this, I thought. I touched up my smoky gray eye shadow. With or without Blake, I felt like a million bucks and I wanted to look great tonight. Alli would be proud.

Sid was rummaging through the fridge when I emerged from my bedroom, my heels clicking loudly across the floor. I stopped at the breakfast bar to wait for Blake. Sid turned and saw me, his eyes wide.

“What?” I said, suddenly concerned that I didn’t look nearly as good as I thought I did.

“Uh—” He averted his eyes. “Nothing.” He bolted back to his bedroom, which required about three strides since he was so incredibly tall, and shut the door behind him.

I had loosely considered inviting Sid to dinner, but a fine dining experience would be lost on him. Now I was glad I hadn’t, since apparently he couldn’t be in the same room with me in this outfit.

Blake let himself in and slowed as I circled the island to greet him. He wore the same gray charcoal suit from Vegas, with a freshly pressed white shirt. A bit of stubble offset the formality of his attire. Damn. I sauntered over, trying like hell to stay steady on my heels, savoring the look of pure carnal appreciation that swept his face.

“Hey,” I said.

“You’re killing me in that dress.”

I bit my lip, never knowing what he might do when we were alone like this.

With a feather-light touch, he traced a line from my cheek to my chin, tipping my face toward him before giving me a slow, sweet kiss that had me trembling with need at the finish.





CHAPTER TEN





We didn’t skip a beat when we entered the restaurant on the busy Friday night. The ma?tre d’ escorted us without delay to a table for two that seemed private by way of the wall of wine that separated us from the main dining area. Through the huge windows, Boston sprawled. Below, dozens of tiny white sails dotted the Charles River and the sunset reflected off its meandering path through the city.

“You know how I love a good view,” I murmured. I loved that we were ending this perfect day here, and I’m sure it showed.

“I do, and now that I know you’re a food connoisseur, I’m going to change things up and let you order for the both of us.”

I giggled. “Uh oh.”

“Everything here is incredible, so you can’t go wrong.”

“That I don’t doubt.” I perused the menu.

When the server arrived, I ordered, duck confit for him and haddock for myself.

After the server left, I asked, “Is it difficult for you to not be in control?”

He paused a moment. “Yes, but I’ve been trying it in small doses lately.”

“How’s that going for you?”

“It’s...not always easy.”

“Seems like it might be liberating. I think sometimes it would be nice to take a break, to be able to defer to someone else for once.”

“You can defer to me whenever you’d like.”

He licked his lips and smirked at me. I narrowed my eyes at him playfully, feeling my skin tingle at the gesture and enjoying our pseudo-sexual banter more than I expected.

I needed to move the conversation away from the topic of sex. Blake could take my mind from zero to filthy with a few choice words. “You’ve been making yourself scarce. Anything new?”

His eyes met mine with a penetrating gaze. “Just putting out fires at work.”

“You haven’t asked me about the meeting with Max,” I said.

“What’s to tell? I knew Max was going to invest from the moment I saw you in that boardroom.”

“How did you know that?” I wish I had known, I thought, if only to save myself a fair measure of stress and anxiety.

“Well for one, you’re beautiful.”

I warmed at the compliment, though coming from someone who defined physical perfection, I had a difficult time truly accepting it.

“I’m not sure what looks have to do with it.”

“Looks can be persuasive. Secondly, you have a good concept.”

I frowned, confused as to why Blake’s glowing opinion of me this evening ran in such stark contrast to his brutal line of questioning at the pitch. “If you thought I had a good concept, then I’m not sure why you felt the need to humiliate me at the pitch and shoot me down.”

I had come to know Blake better these past couple weeks, but the tirade of emotions I felt that first day were not easily forgotten. My hand fisted as I remembered the experience, his simple and easy rejection stamped on my memory. I riled again, my skin prickling with anger.

“I wanted to see how you’d perform under pressure. Plus, how else was I supposed to find out if you were available? Two birds with one stone.” He shrugged, as if it were nothing.