body ablaze. I've touched myself to that name. I've fantasized about it. Now Duncan Willis is inches away, his lips hovering near mine, saying his name, his warm, cinnamon breath caressing my cheeks, and his spicy cologne filling my lungs. I swallow. "Duncan...yeah, right," I say stupidly as I lift my right hand and extend it to him, ready to shake. "I'm Kimbra."
Taking my hand, he laughs again, low and deep. He turns my hand in his grasp and lifts my knuckles to his lips. Their touch is tender as he peers up at me from under sinfully long lashes. "Yes, Kimbra, I know your name. Don't worry, I'll book a hotel. Where in Indiana are we going?"
Surely my heart is about to beat out of my chest. I try to form words and put them together in something that resembles a sentence. "Going...going to Indianapolis, and shit, you can't. It's race weekend. The hotels are all booked."
"Race? The 500?"
"Yes. My mom wants us there Thursday. Friday night is the bachelor party." I narrow my eyes. "Mr. Wi—I mean, Duncan. There will be women. That's the kind of party it is."
He nods knowingly.
"If we're...together, you can't...you'll be with my brother and cousins and you just..."
He squeezes the hand he's still holding. "Tell me, Kimbra, will we be together?" He elongates the final word.
My breathing hitches. "We need rules. We need to make it appear..."
He releases his grip and leans back against his desk. With his arms again crossed over his broad chest, he says, "Lay the rules on me."
The way he's staring at me looks like he's waiting for me to give him a report on office morale, not like I'm about to tell him our plans and sleeping arrangements for the weekend...in my parents' house.
I clear my throat. "We have to make them all believe we've been dating."
He nods.
"I mean dating for a while. They can't know this is just a one-time plus-one weekend."
"Dating for a while," he repeats.
"Yes, and we'll need to stay at my parents' house. My mom wants us to share a room. She thinks if she and my dad give their permission, someday I might get married."
Duncan's eyes widen.
I vigorously shake my head back and forth. "I'm not saying that. This is one weekend."
"A plus-one for one weekend. Got it. Still..." His eyebrows wiggle, as he pushes off the desk. Before I can blink he has one strong hand around my waist and pulls me toward him. "Miss Jones...Kimbra, please clarify for me. Am I hearing you correctly? Your rules include sharing a room at your parents', where they want me to deflower their little girl?"
My neck cranes upward as heat fills my cheeks. I try to ignore the way our hips are plastered together. "I'm not a little girl and that flower has already been picked."
He pulls me even closer and winks. "Even better. Too much responsibility. Perhaps there are other flowers still available?"
"Other flowers?"
The hand around my waist lowers until it's firmly on my ass. While my mind screams inappropriate, my body craves more. I yearn to turn toward the window, wishing that it is opaque so that this can go further. I inhale deeply, my breasts now rubbing against his chest. "Mr.—"
He touches my lips. "Duncan."
"What is men's obsession with...other flowers?"
"Now, how long have we been together? That seems like a conversation for further into our relationship."
I shake my head and try to articulate. "Th-this—"
"Weekend. Your rules," Duncan interrupts. "I'm trying to understand."
"This is strictly pretend," I say.
"So am I to understand that this weekend is not about picking flowers?" He squeezes my ass again.
Heat floods my cheeks. "Yes. No. A weekend. A pretend weekend. That's all. We do this and I don't say anything to Mr. Buchanan, and if whoever was with you files a report, I do my best to talk her out of it." Before he has a chance to respond, I add, "I'll make plane reservations. What time can you leave on Thursday?"
"Kimbra." My name rolls like a distant rumble of thunder off his tongue. "Right now I'd like to kiss my weekend girlfriend." His brow arches. "You know, to seal the deal."
"What?"
Duncan brushes my cheek with his knuckle. "I've seen you blush before, but it's even cuter close up."
I nervously look toward the window. I gasp as I realize it's no longer clear, but frosted. "How? When?"
He tips his head toward the desk. "A button, right after your interesting proposal."
How had I not noticed? Maybe because Duncan