I Have Lived and I Have Loved - Willow Winters Page 0,345

the buzz in my fingers I knew would start when she appeared. It was as if I were pre-programmed to reach for her whenever I saw her.

She appeared seconds later, dressed in a Berkeley T-shirt and leggings, her hair in a high ponytail—a style I’d never seen her wear to work. She looked breathtaking.

“Hi,” she said, her mouth slightly open.

“Hi.” I held out the bag.

Her eyebrows knitted together. “What’s that?” she asked, though she didn’t take it.

“A thank you. For Saturday and . . . You know, for giving up your time last weekend.”

Her eyebrows raised and a smile twinged at the corners of her mouth. “Really?” she asked. “It was fine. You don’t need to buy me a gift.” And then she frowned.

I hadn’t expected this reaction. I’d wanted to make her smile, maybe smooth her hands through my hair and kiss me. “Okay.” I should tell her about lunch, get it out of the way. “And I have something to tell you.”

She opened the door and I followed her into her apartment, leaving the Jimmy Choos underneath her coat rack. She wasn’t even going to look at them? The door clicked shut behind us and instantly I knew I made a mistake. Suddenly I was back in Vegas. I couldn’t stop staring at her ass, wondering whether she was wearing a bra under her shirt. The buzz in my fingers grew stronger, and I had to take a deep breath to calm my rising pulse.

“You want a drink?” she asked.

“Sure, thanks.” Holding a glass would occupy my hands, stop them from wandering to the hem of her T-shirt, and skirting the smooth skin underneath.

She set two glasses on the small counter as I watched. She seemed unbothered by my presence, as if I was something other than wildly attracted to her.

She handed me a glass of lemonade and leaned against the cabinet. “So,” she said.

Her small, delicate fingers wrapped around her glass and I couldn’t help imagining how they’d feel, cooled by her drink, trailing down my chest.

“Max,” she said and I snapped my head up to look at her. “What did you have to tell me?”

Shit. I shifted my weight from one foot to both, trying to regain control. “I took your advice and called your father’s assistant.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t call him my father.”

I nodded. I wanted to know why she so clearly didn’t like the man. Didn’t speak to him, but kept a dossier on his business investments. Didn’t want anything to do with him except to show him just how worthy of his attention she was. “Should we talk about this? I don’t really understand your history. And I’d like to.”

“Is talking about parents something you normally do with employees?” she asked, a frown creasing her forehead. She pushed off the counter and came toward me, clearly wanting me to move out of the way so she could leave the kitchen. Our bodies were close, the heat of her breath puffing against my shirt. I didn’t move. I liked having her close. I wanted more.

I ran my finger up her exposed neck and her lips parted, but as her eyes met mine, she pushed past me.

I turned to find her loitering by the door. “You should go,” she said, her eyes on the floor.

“I should,” I agreed. But I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay and peel off her T-shirt, bend her over the sofa, and slide into her. I stepped toward her and rested my hand on her hip.

“What did you have to tell me?”

Oh yes, lunch. Her presence, like some kind of fog, clouded my brain and my judgement.

She placed her hand on my arm and it drifted up to my shoulder. I had to consciously breathe.

“Max?”

Her clipped tone brought me to attention. “I called his assistant. She found a spot in his schedule.” Taking a half step closer, I smoothed my hand from her hip to the small of her back.

She raised her eyebrows as she tilted her head up to look at me. “That’s good, right?”

I nodded. “Except he seemed to be busy until I told her you’d be joining us.”

Dropping her hand from my shoulder, she took two steps to the side.

“And so you’re here. With gifts. And wandering hands.”

I took a step back, removing my hand from her warm body. “What? No.” Was that what this looked like? As if I were trying to bribe her? Seduce her into agreeing to lunch?

“Jesus, I know you