Seducing Mr. Right ONLY
a Come Undone novella by New York Times bestselling author Katee Robert
Danielle Kastien is done with powerful men. After months of near-saintly behavior, she’s determined to use the company costume party to have her wicked way with every delicious inch of the sexy-but-sweet mail guy she’s been meeting for coffee. Though her costume is designed to send him into a haze of blind lust, Danielle quickly realizes Grayson is not the kind of man she can control.
Grayson Harper is used to having his way at work and in the bedroom. He’s dominant. Commanding. Obeyed. He’s been patiently biding his time with Danielle, enjoying spending time with someone who sees him as someone other than the CEO of Harper Industries. But before he can confess, he has Danielle right where he wants her. Where he’s wanted her since the day they met. And he’s in far too deep to risk his claim on the one woman who makes him hard with need…
Previously released as part of the Lovers Unmasked anthology. Now available individually!
Title: Seducing Mr. Right (a Come Undone novella)
Author: Katee Robert
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Length: 99 pages
Release Date: March 2014
Seducing Mr. Right
by Katee Robert
Copyright © 2013 by Katee Robert. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
“You really won’t reconsider?”
“Nope.” Danielle Kastien adjusted the lace mask covering her eyes. “Besides, he invited me to the party. It would be rude not to show up.” Especially since she had every intention of seducing the mail guy she’d been chatting up in her building’s coffee shop for the last few months at said party.
He’d spent every Tuesday and Thursday drinking her in with those warm brown eyes the same way he drank his coffee—slow and controlled, as if it were the most delicious thing in the world. If he could appreciate something as disgusting as coffee, it made her wonder what it would be like to have him focus that appreciation on her.
Yes, spending time with Grayson had the nasty habit of making her think all sorts of wicked thoughts. Considering that she’d somehow managed not to give in to the sexual tension between them before now, she was already petitioning for saint status.
That ended tonight.
Chelsea perched on the edge of the vanity and handed over the brilliant red lipstick Danielle favored. As a kid, Danielle had hated the fact that she was so short and built delicately—it meant she couldn’t keep up on the rare occasions her father actually spent time with her—but now she liked to play up her china-doll looks.
“I know you were invited,” Chelsea said, fidgeting a little, “but are you sure you’re not reacting to that blowout you had with your father yesterday?”
She flinched. Her dad, a decorated four-star general, didn’t like what she was doing with her life, and he never had. He didn’t approve of her corporate job, or the fact that she was twenty-six and still “mucking about” with various men instead of settling down with a good provider. He’d actually used that term—a good provider. As if they were still living in the fifties, and her place was to be pregnant, barefoot, and in the kitchen. He’d be thrilled if she ended up with someone like him—some man in a powerful job who’d steamroll her until she fit the perfect little mold he thought she should.
Danielle had never been all that good at coloring inside the lines.
“The one where he informed me all my life decisions to date are pathetic and worthless, and I’ll never amount to anything?” She finished with her lipstick and rolled her lips together. “Would that be the conversation you’re talking about?”
Chelsea gave her a look filled with concern. “Ah… Yes.”
She made an effort to keep her carefree smile in place, despite the fact that she felt like breaking something. If she was immature enough to be throwing tantrums, she was playing right into his beliefs that she was failing at life. Just because she didn’t have a soft and feminine job—what the hell did Dad even know about soft and feminine? Any appreciation he’d had of those things died along with her mother twenty years ago.
She might not have the most glorious of jobs, but she was putting herself through night school so she’d have the qualifications to be eligible for promotion. Not that she’d told her dad about night school—or anyone else, except for Grayson. He’d thought it was great that she was bettering herself. Hell, he’d even seemed to understand her reasoning for not sharing that fact with anyone else in her life. He also understood why she liked working in an office, pushing paper. She was pretty good with numbers, and liked how they were confined to a very specific logic.
But there was no use thinking about it now, especially when fights with her dad usually left her feeling reckless, which led to all sorts of stupid decisions. “I’ve had my eye on this guy for a while. My jumping him has nothing to do with my daddy issues.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with Nathan and me tonight?” From her best friend’s tone, she knew the offer was a lost cause.
Danielle’s smile was a bit more real this time. “Nah. You guys are great and all, but I’m not really into the whole third-wheel thing—or seventh-wheel since you have all those other couples with you.” Chelsea had recently made the decision to move in with the love of her life. This weekend was her last here before the movers showed up for the big pieces of furniture, and she finally settled into the gorgeous condo in the same neighborhood as the gallery she now shared with her husband.
“Are you sure? The bar we’re going to is filled with gorgeous single men who don’t work in your building.” Chelsea stood and smoothed down her Lucille Ball dress. With her red hair done up in the familiar style, she looked like both a blast from the past and a chic present-day model. The woman was made to wear that style.
She frowned. “What happens after tonight? I don’t suppose you’re going to date this one?”
Date? Danielle paused and let herself actually consider it. She and Grayson had shared coffee twice a week for the last few months. It had started when he caught her checking out his ass on the elevator, and they just kept running into each other. She’d never admit it, but she caught herself lingering in the lobby longer than was strictly necessary just to see if he’d show up and give her that look, the one that made her knees turn to Jell-O.
He always did.
And then there were the conversations they had. What started out as a stolen fifteen minutes to down her energy drink while he had coffee sometimes turned into a full hour. A few times they’d even talked longer. When she sat across the table from Grayson, time seemed to stand still. He made her laugh, and he made her hot, and she found herself telling him things he had no business knowing—like her frustrations with her father, and her tentative plans for the future. He’d even gone so far as to give her a few different options to look into beyond the one she’d been considering.
But dating was something else altogether. Dating meant bringing him home to Dad and trying to build a relationship, which she’d never been all that good at doing. Relationships meant putting herself in someone else’s power, which was something she’d gone out of her way to avoid ever since she moved out. She liked not having to answer to anyone.
What was the question again? Oh, right. Dating. She plumped her boobs and then checked the effect in the mirror. “Don’t be ridiculous. You know me. I don’t date.”
“Not yet.” Chelsea laughed at the look on her face. “You never know what could happen if you meet the right guy.”
“Now you’re starting to sound like Dad.” Danielle stood up and turned a quick circle. “What do you think?”
“You look amazing, and you know it.” Chelsea smiled. “Catwoman was a stroke of genius.”
Danielle wasn’t going to deny it—the whole black catsuit and killer heels thing made her feel like a vixen. Grayson wouldn’t know what hit him. “I do my best.” She made a shooing motion. “Now get going. You don’t want to be late for your shindig.”
“Be safe tonight.” Chelsea squeezed her shoulder and then stepped into her heels. “Text me when you’re in for the night, so I know you’re home.”
“Honey, chances are I’m going to be late.” If she played things right, she wouldn’t be home at all.
“I know, but I worry about you.”
“I’ll text, I promise.” Danielle slipped her ID and credit card into her super sweet utility belt, and then picked up her bullwhip. It was a smaller version of the comic book character’s, but she hadn’t been able to find a full-length one in the amount of time she’d had. After taking one last moment to check to make sure she looked as fantastic as she felt, she headed for the door.
Tonight she was going to get her some hot mail guy. She’d worry about the consequences later.
Tonight would be the night he told her the truth.
Grayson Harper shook his head, amused at his melodrama. He wasn’t the type to leave anything to chance, and the same rule applied to Danielle, the sassy little thing he’d run into a few months ago. She’d made a sarcastic comment about him checking her out—which was exactly what he’d been doing—and he’d been intrigued despite himself.
Because she clearly hadn’t known who he was.
How she’d managed not to know surprised him since he owned the damn building, but he couldn’t turn down a chance to have coffee with her—to have a conversation with someone who didn’t know him as Grayson Harper, CEO and all-around corporate hard-ass.
Not that he minded, most days. He’d built up his corporation from little more than nothing. Doing so hadn’t left much time for friends or casual socializing, though he hadn’t felt the loss until the last few years.
Truth was, having coffee a few times a week with Danielle filled a need he had barely been aware existed. She treated him as if he was just a man and she was just a woman. When he was with her, his job and his very identity took a backseat to his personality. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d met someone who hadn’t recognized him instantly, and he hadn’t felt the weight of it until he’d met her. Over the years he’d stopped dating altogether because of the way women looked at him—as if he were a ladder into the life they wanted. When they saw him, they saw money signs and a position of power. While he didn’t think Danielle was the type of woman to cling to a man for those reasons—or any reason at all—he was almost afraid of the opposite reaction.
Perhaps he should have told her the truth the second time they met in the coffee shop, but Grayson refused to run the risk of her changing how she felt because of who he was. He enjoyed her company far too much to sacrifice it.
It didn’t hurt that he wanted her with a desire that nearly swept away all his hard-won control. Every time she looked at him, her independence and don’t-give-a-fuck attitude sparking in those dark eyes, it was everything he could do not to drag her into the nearest empty room and act out every single fantasy he’d had with her in it.
The last month had made it even more difficult to maintain control. She’d begun touching him with purpose. It started innocently enough, her fingers brushing his when she passed the sugar, her ankle pressing against his calf, her shoulder rubbing his when she leaned against him to laugh at a shared joke. But recently there’d been no mistaking her intent. She’d meet his gaze as she traced circles on his wrist. Just this week, she’d spent their entire time together sitting as close to him as she could while being in a separate chair, her shoulder brushing his constantly and her perfume teasing him.
But she’d turned him down every time he asked her out, claiming a variety of excuses. If she didn’t keep showing up for coffee, he’d have thought she wasn’t interested.
Until now. Just this week she’d made a loaded comment about how she hoped both their desires would be fulfilled this Halloween. There was no mistaking that.
But even without sex in the picture, he wanted to spend more time with her—outside of the building’s coffee shop. The problem was, he couldn’t do that without telling her exactly who he was. Oh, he could, but lies had the nasty tendency to breed and cause problems later down the road. He hadn’t exactly lied—she’d seen the stack of mail in his hand that first day and automatically assumed he was the mail guy—but after a few conversations he’d realized what her opinions on powerful men were, and he’d chosen to stay silent.
Enough was enough, though, and tonight would be the night he came clean.
The Halloween party was a charity event they put together every year, but this was the first time they’d put together a full-on masquerade ball. It’d also be the first year he attended. His secretary had been thrilled about the entire thing, and the office was buzzing with speculation about who would show up as what.
He couldn’t help wondering what Danielle would choose as her costume. After several months of stolen hours and conversations, he should have a good enough read on her to know. That he didn’t delighted him to no end. She was a constant surprise, from what she’d say to what she’d do—a breath of fresh air in the stagnant swamp his life had become. He might be successful but, before he’d met her, he’d been so damn bored.
Being around her was a growing addiction he didn’t want to fight. To have all that fire and lightning of a personality in his arms—and under his control in the bedroom—was something that had started consuming him. Christ. He rubbed a hand over his face, pushing down the desire threading through him at the thought of her on her knees, looking at him in open defiance even as she submitted. He wanted that badly.
Grayson adjusted the cloak about his shoulders and fixed the mask against his face. He’d always been a fan of The Phantom of the Opera, and lately he’d felt a keen familiarity with the man behind the mask. Everyone saw what they wanted to see—a terrifying creature bent on destruction—not what he really was, a damaged man driven mad by loneliness. That one he could relate to.
Not to mention he admired the Phantom for his willingness to do anything to get the girl.
Grayson had plans to do exactly that.
Danielle passed her invitation to the guy at the door and strutted into the building. She’d always loved Halloween, loved the festive atmosphere and how nearly anyone could be convinced to have a good time once costumes were involved. There was also the aura of mystery around everything. You could be anything on Halloween. More than any other day of the year, it was rife with possibilities.
That wasn’t even bringing the candy into consideration.
She made a beeline for the dessert table set up just far enough from the main doors so it didn’t mess with people’s ability to come and go as they pleased. There was every kind of sweet imaginable set up on tiered plates—cupcakes, chocolate-covered strawberries, and different types of candy. Danielle picked a strawberry and popped it into her mouth, nearly moaning with ecstasy. Oh, that was good. That was really good. That might be better than sex—at least the sex she’d had lately. She frowned. When was the last time? Oh my God, I don’t even remember. That’s how long it’s been.
Danielle spun around and nearly choked. Grayson. He stood so close, her dad would have whooped her ass for not noticing him approach. Taller than her by a good six inches, even in her heels, he looked all sorts of menacing with his close-cropped hair and a black cloak making his broad shoulders appear even larger than they actually were. His brown eyes danced behind the white half mask, lips drawn up in a small smile.
The man made a damn good Phantom.
She swallowed hard, reminding herself of why she was here. Yes, he was sexy as all get-out, and yes, she’d started to look forward to their coffee dates more than anything else about her week, but he was still just the mail guy. This was nothing she couldn’t handle. “Hey there.”
“Hey there, yourself.” With him standing so close, looking even better than the dessert table behind her, she was having a hard time focusing. Small talk. Small talk was safe. Once she had a few rum and Cokes under her belt she’d circle around to the real reason she was here. Danielle gave him her best wicked grin. “What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”
His gaze raked over her, making her glad her catsuit hid the fact that her nipples were perking right up. “I heard a certain thief was going to make an appearance. How could I pass up an opportunity to sweep her off her feet?”
Oh, he was good. She’d give him that. It was part of the reason she kept coming around for their little coffee dates. Grayson had a way of keeping her on her toes while instantly putting her at ease. How he managed to do that was a mystery, but she wasn’t in the mood to question it. Danielle laughed and poked his shoulder—his seriously well-muscled shoulder. “With lines like that, it’s no wonder you have to slum it around the office.”
“Danielle, you are anything but slumming it.” He moved closer and ran a finger down her arm. “I think I like you in leather.”
She tried to cover up her shiver and went for bold. “Look at me. How could you not like me in leather?” She’d busted ass in aerobics class four times a week for the last few weeks to make sure she fit into this damn suit, so his blatant appreciation felt like a payoff.
“I’d like you much better out of it.”
Heat flashed through her, centering on a few key areas. Holy shit, he’d just thrown it all out there. She had every intention of seducing Grayson—and, after their last talk, she’d figured he was on the same page—so this shouldn’t be a surprise. Not when she already knew he had a refreshing way of cutting to the chase in any conversation. That said, even if she’d hoped the night would end with her legs behind her ears and screaming his name, she wasn’t going to simply fold at his first pass.
“Hope springs eternal.” She gave him a flirty smile and turned back to the dessert table. There was nothing on it that interested her as much as the man behind her, but she pretended to inspect the different kinds of cake.
Gray reached around her to grab a strawberry, the move bringing his chest flush against her back. His breath ghosted over her ear. “You and I both know hope has nothing to do with it.”
That was the damn truth. “Maybe. Maybe not.” But she wasn’t going to give this to him that easily. Even if they never talked again after tonight, Grayson wouldn’t appreciate his time with her if she didn’t make him work for it. Danielle tried not to think too hard on the ping in her chest at the thought of never talking to him again. “So, what’s a girl got to do to get a drink around here?”
“I know people who know people.” He offered his elbow, as regal as any bigwig. “I think I can meet that demand.”
“You know people who know people?” She laughed as she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and let him lead her through the groups gathered here and there. “Some mail guy you’d be if you didn’t have all the connections.”
His mouth tightened, making her wonder if she’d made a mistake. But then Grayson turned those blazing eyes on her and she forgot her worry. “I have more connections than you could dream of.”
Danielle laughed. “Honey, I could say the same thing.”
“I’ll just bet.” He motioned at the table in front of him. “As the lady commanded—the bar.”
They’d set up an actual bar with a full rack of alcohol behind it. Things were definitely going to get interesting later on if even half the supply was consumed. She couldn’t wait. There was nothing better than seeing people drop their professional masks and do things they wouldn’t normally. If she didn’t have her own plans for the night, she’d probably grab a bottle and post up in a corner to watch it all go down.
Danielle leaned against the bar and winked at the bartender. He was way too skinny for her tastes, but she appreciated the balls he had to wear a Green Man suit. Spandex was not everyone’s friend and he pulled it off like a champ. “Hey there, handsome. How about a rum and Coke?”
“Sure thing, beautiful.”
Grayson took up a spot next to her, his presence making him feel a whole lot closer than he actually was. It was a neat trick he’d pulled before and it never failed to make her shift closer to him. She’d spent considerable time wondering what it’d be like to have all that focus centered on her in the bedroom, away from the prying eyes of the public. She didn’t peg him for a selfish lover—not when he always held her chair for her, paid the bill despite her protests, and actually listened when she talked—but she didn’t think he’d be a pushover, either. No, everything about Grayson screamed of a man with airtight control. What would it be like when he finally let that control slip its leash?
The thought was both unnerving and thrilling.
Generally Danielle was the pursuer. She saw what she wanted, and she took it. If she got to thumb her nose at her father while doing it, so much the better. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d let a man get the better of her. Hell, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted one to.
With Grayson sitting beside her practically oozing dominance, she definitely wanted.
Knowing that should send her running in the opposite direction. Hell, it should have made her back off months ago when she first realized that there was nothing safe about him—which was one of the reasons she’d turned down his attempts to get her on an actual date before now. She’d foolishly thought that planning on seducing him at the Halloween party would put the ball firmly in her court. If she was in control, she was less likely to be hurt.
Obviously it wasn’t going to go down like that. Not when one look from him had her in danger of dropping her panties right there in the middle of the conference room.
“What are you thinking?”
If any other guy had asked her that, it would reek of insecurity. She would have laughed and patted his head and strutted off to find someone more entertaining.
Gray asked the question like he already knew the answer. The sheer magnetism of his confidence drew her like a goddamn lodestone, just like it had from day one. It was everything she could do not to reach out and touch him. She clasped her hands around the glass. “If you have to ask, you’re not ready to know.”
“Fair enough.” He laughed, the sound rolling through her until it was everything she could do not to shiver. “How was your day?”
At his question she flashed back to the disappointed look on her father’s face when they’d met for lunch, the memory threatening to pull her into a funk. But Grayson was waiting for her response, and there wasn’t any point in dragging out her emotional bullshit right now. It ran the risk of ruining the mood of the entire night. “Fine.”
“You know, usually when a woman says that particular word in that particular tone of voice, it means the exact opposite.” He shifted, his shoulder brushing hers. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but if you do…?”
The man was too smart for his own good. Or hers. She took a healthy swig of her drink. “I had a fight with my dad. Again. He was in town for a day before he hopped off to Japan or something—just long enough to express his disappointment over everything that is me.”
“Why?” She shrugged, wishing she could do something about the tension riding through her shoulders. “It’s not like you’re responsible for him screwing up my good mood this afternoon.”
“Maybe not, but I still don’t like seeing you unhappy. And I know dealing with him upsets you.”
That was Grayson, the guy who cared about what she thought or if she was having a good day—and who set her blood on fire and made her body ache. Her smile was a bit wider this time. “You’re in luck then, because I’m pretty damn happy right now.”
“Yep. I have a drink in my hand, a smoking-hot guy sitting next to me, and the night is full of possibilities.” Before he could say something or dig deeper, she changed the subject. “What about you? How was your day?”
“Tedious.” He turned around in his chair to face the rest of the room. “Honestly, the only thing that got me through today without losing my mind was knowing I’d see you at the end of it.”
Even though she told herself not to blush, Danielle felt warmth climbing her neck. Enough of this borderline deep talk. They’d done that so often, she felt like she knew Grayson nearly as well as she knew herself. Talking was not tonight’s goal. Her savior came in the unexpected form of a middle-aged woman walking by. “Are those feathers?”
For a second she didn’t think Grayson would let her change the subject, but then he shifted just enough to follow her gaze. “I do believe she’s an angel.”
“Are you sure?” She looked as if she’d taken a sheet and torn up a pillow to create the tiny wings that were currently leaving a trail behind her. As Danielle watched, another handful detached itself and drifted to the ground. The urge to sneeze was nearly overwhelming, even though she was pretty sure it was strictly mental. “I thought maybe she was a Serta mattress.”
With a laugh, he slid closer and lowered his voice. “That one has nothing on Bob from Accounting.”
Her gaze landed on the shirtless man. He might not have the best body she’d ever seen but he was hardly… Then he turned around and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Oh dear God.” What his guitar had hidden from view was the fact that he was wearing only a pair of tighty-whities that had stopped being white a long time again. Danielle turned back to the bar and tried to control her laughter. “We’re going to hell.”
Every time his shoulder brushed hers, it felt as if her entire body were contracting. Knowing what they were working toward, how the night would end, made her responses off the charts. It’d been hard to keep from inviting him home for a little afternoon delight before, but now she didn’t think she’d be able to make it as far as her apartment. She wanted him so desperately she could barely think straight. Stifling a shiver, she took a drink. “Seriously, though. We’re being mean.”
“Are we? Personally, I think Bob pulls off Naked Cowboy rather well.”
“Yeah, his pot belly really glows when it catches the light.”
“Now who’s being mean? And, look, Dolores agrees with me.”
She glanced over her shoulder and shook her head. The angel had taken up a spot next to him and seemed to be hanging on his every word. Danielle was slightly impressed that Grayson seemed to know the names of people she’d never even seen, let alone met. Then again, as mail guy, he’d have to, wouldn’t he? “Can you name every person in this room?”
Grayson shrugged. “Most of them.”
Damn. She barely remembered the names of everyone on her floor, let alone her entire company. “That’s impressive.”
“It’s part of the job.”
He could have used a list or something to deliver the mail. Knowing everyone’s name from memory really went above and beyond the call of duty. She could appreciate that kind of dedication and attention to detail. “Still impressive.”
“Stop it. You’re going to make me blush.”
She leaned in until her breasts pressed against his arm. “Promise?”
“Nope.” He grinned, a flash of white teeth against his darker skin.
“You like it.”
She’d like it a whole lot better if he were being impossible while getting naked, but she wasn’t sure if now was the best time to broach the subject. It would be just her luck that he’d flirt with her for weeks on end, dress up like temptation personified for this party, and mean nothing by it. Then she’d be the asshole who had to put it all out there and have him nicely—because Grayson would do it nicely—tell her that he never had any intention of getting her out of this catsuit.
Under normal circumstances, she’d say to hell with it and go for it. The worst he could do was say no. If this were any other guy, she’d laugh it off and keep drinking and talking and go home alone. But this wasn’t any other guy—this was Grayson. If she came on to him with serious intent and he turned her down it might damage their friendship. She hadn’t realized how much she counted on those coffee dates until she was suddenly facing the possibility of them going away.
And if his turning her down would change everything, how much more so would his saying yes do it?
“Why are you frowning?” He reached over and ran his thumb between her eyebrows, the innocent touch sending zings into parts of her body where they had no business being.
Relax. No need to rush this. Danielle almost laughed out loud. Yeah, right. She was in over her head and sinking fast. “Just overthinking things a little bit.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
Kiss her until she couldn’t remember her name?
Yank her against him until every one of her fears disappeared against the feel of his body pressing to hers?
Rip this catsuit off her and bend her over the bar, right here in front of everyone?
God, what was she thinking? She should just get out of there before she embarrassed herself more than she already had. Because right now she was pretty damn sure this was going to blow up in her face whichever way it played out. She downed the rest of her drink and set the glass on the bar. “I think I left the stove on. So I’m going to go make sure my apartment doesn’t burn down.”
She actually made it three steps before his voice stopped her. “Danielle.”
Don’t turn around. Just walk away. You can’t regret something you never actually did. Except she was turning around even as she told herself not to. Looking at him, the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome, she knew she was lost. How was she supposed to keep her head on straight when all of her self-control was going into not crossing the distance between them and climbing him like a tree?
And then he held out his hand. “Why don’t we find somewhere less crowded where we can talk?”
There was no mistaking his meaning. Not when he motioned her closer in a way that couldn’t be defined as anything other than a command. It made her want to bristle, but that was a conditioned response. A by-product of her upbringing. He wasn’t asking her to do anything she didn’t want to do. Because, no matter how much the possible negative outcomes scared her, she wanted this. She wanted him. “I think I’ve heard this line before.”
“I promise, I have only the best of intentions.”
“Said the spider to the fly.” Why the hell was she fighting this? Maybe she should get out of her own way and jump in headfirst. Because nothing could go wrong with that plan.
Gray’s hand never wavered, but his eyes darkened. “I won’t do anything to you that you don’t beg me for first.”
Danielle’s breath whooshed out. Holy shit.
What could she possibly say to that? Please, please, yes please. She managed a shaky smile. “You know, if I’d known you were going to pull out the big guns, I might have reconsidered coming tonight.”
“No, you wouldn’t. Because you like knowing exactly how much I want you.” He motioned her forward with his fingers. “Don’t leave me hanging here.”
For a long moment she couldn’t find her voice. Because he was right. Knowing he’d talk to her like this only would have made her more eager for tonight. And she did like the verbal confirmation that he was nearly as far-gone as she was. They both wanted the same thing for tonight—to end up naked and sweaty and swinging from the chandelier. Danielle swallowed past her dry throat. There was nothing to be afraid of. She wanted Grayson in bed, making her scream his name. Hell, she could barely breathe past the desire just being close to him made her feel.
She’d deal with the consequences when they showed up.
She slipped her hand into his, the contact soothing her worries in a way she might actually be concerned about, if not for the man looking down at her with a small smile curving his lips. This was Grayson. As long as she remembered that, she’d remember there was no reason to worry. No reason at all.
She let him lead her through the crowd to the edge of the room. They passed people drinking and laughing and dancing, and it felt strangely like she and Grayson were in their own little world that no one could touch. No one tried to talk to them, or even looked at them sideways as they reached the doorway and slipped out. He pulled her into a little alcove tucked off a nearby hall.
Danielle wasn’t familiar with this part of the building—she kept to her floor, a small little law firm owned by the Mulligans. This was a huge conference room utilized by the bigwig CEO guy who owned the rest of the building. Rumor had it that Mr. Harper was a scary-ass dude, though she’d heard a couple of his underlings giggling over how sexy he was. Whatever. Give her a mail guy any day. This mail guy. A CEO was far too close to a general in her opinion—you didn’t hit the top of the pyramid without some intense drive and a whole lot of “don’t fuck with me.” Not to mention the fact that that kind of person wouldn’t have a problem railroading anyone he thought beneath him.
She pushed the thoughts away. Tonight wasn’t about some faceless ass of a CEO. It was about following through on the promises Grayson kept making that made her weak in the knees.
Danielle had every intention of seeing it through.