Fool for Love: Fooling Around\Nobody's Fool\Fools Rush In (9 page)

“You passed the apartment complex.”

“I did? Seriously?”

“Seriously. Take a right at this street and we can come in from the back.”

“O…kay.” She doubted he'd meant that statement to have a double meaning, doubted he'd intended a reference to what had been a life-changing event for her, but her mind was firmly planted in the Land of Sexual Innuendoes, so she thought of it immediately.

“I'll never forget that moment, you know,” he said softly.

“What moment?” she chirped, as if she would never have those kind of thoughts.

“The moment when you scooted around on the seat and—”

“Oh,
that
moment.” Her pulse raced.

“Yes,
that
moment. Incredible. Turn in here.”

She squealed the tires, giving herself away.

“You're priceless.” He laughed and reached over to squeeze her knee.

“Don't do that or I'm liable to take out several bumpers going through this parking lot.”

He laughed again. “I can hardly wait until we're behind closed doors. There's a spot. Park right there.”

She managed to fit her car into the space without dinging anything, which she considered a major accomplishment. They quickly exited the car and ran, hand-in-hand, to the door of Andre's first-floor apartment.

“Thank goodness I'm not up a couple of flights.” He fitted the key in the lock and in a flash led her inside the darkened apartment.

Before she could move he'd flattened her against the closed door, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and tugging at her clothes. She fumbled with the but
tons of his shirt just as desperately. So much for the striptease. Neither of them had the time.

The phone rang.

She wrenched her mouth from his. “Phone,” she said gasping. Then she clutched a fistful of his shirt and pulled it from his pants.

“Answering machine.” He whipped her top over her head and went back to kissing her while he reached for the fastening of her bra.

A loud male voice drifted through the apartment. Noise in the background indicated someone calling from a public place. “Andre, buddy, it's Jed.”

Good. Not an emergency. Lena stopped worrying about the caller and redoubled her efforts to unbuckle Andre's belt.

“Listen, I know you're out with Lena for that big date you two had planned. Well, I'm here drinkin' with some of the guys and decided to call.”

“Idiot,” Andre murmured against Lena's mouth.

Jed's voice continued, even louder than before. “I just heard a rumor about her regarding work I think you should check out.”

No! Dear God, no! She wanted to clap both hands over Andre's ears.

His frantic kissing stopped and he drew back. His face was in shadow, his expression unreadable. “Lena….”

She tried to catch her breath and prayed for a miracle. None arrived.

“This comes from a good source, old buddy. Apparently on Monday she's going to be your boss. So
if I were you, I'd ask her about that before you get into any funny business, if you know what I mean. Company policy, and all that. Hope I'm not too late with this. Talk to you later. Bye.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

A
NDRE SHOOK HIS HEAD
,
as if doing that would erase what he's just heard.

Her voice trembled, which seemed like a dead giveaway that she was guilty. “I can explain.”

“It's true, then.” He sounded cold and formal, but hell, what did she expect? Right when he'd let his guard down, he'd been kicked in the cojones.

“Yes, it's true, but—”

“How long have you known?” If she'd been notified before she asked him out, he'd never forgive her.

“Dana called me into her office this afternoon and told me about it. I thought about saying something to you. I thought about canceling the date. But I…wanted to go out with you.”

He still didn't have this worked out. His mind was a jumble of betrayal and sexual frustration. “So before that you had no idea you were up for a promotion, one that could potentially have this result?” Total ignorance didn't compute. She must have had some idea.

She hesitated.

“Hey, Lena, let's have it straight. You owe me that much.”

“All right, I knew something might be coming
along, but I've been so caught up in my April Fool's project that I forgot about it.”

“How convenient.” Earlier he'd felt as if she'd used him, but he'd dismissed that feeling. It was back. “I guess we know who the fool is around here, don't we? And you're looking at him.”

“No, Andre!” She put a hand on his arm. When he flinched, she pulled away. “Damn it, I was going to tell you before Monday morning. I swear to you that I wasn't about to let you go into work without a clue.”

“But you'd let me have sex with you without a clue.”

“Ouch. I think you just drew blood.”

“I think I wanted to.” He wasn't sure which made him angrier—that she hadn't told him about her promotion or the fact of the promotion itself. He didn't mind working for a woman, but company policy said he couldn't work with a woman he had a relationship with. He was pretty damn sure that having back-seat sex counted as a relationship. Or was she figuring this as a one-night stand?

“Can you look at it from my side?” She crossed her arms over her lace-covered breasts.

He noticed that she was shivering. “Are you cold?”

“No, just uncomfortable.”

Wordlessly he leaned down and picked up her top from the carpet where he'd thrown it in his rush to get her naked again. He handed it to her.

“Thanks.”

He waited until she'd pulled it over her head. “Okay, I'll listen to your side.” He couldn't imagine
it would make a difference, but on the off-chance that she had a reasonable explanation, he wanted to hear what she had to say.

“Dana told me I couldn't mention the promotion to anyone at Thunderbird until Monday. So even if I'd canceled the date, I would have had to make up some phony excuse about why I was doing that.” She drew in a breath. “You would have seen right through me and jumped to the conclusion I'd changed my mind about dating you.”

“Probably. But you see how carefully this so-called secret was guarded. As of seven tonight, I'll bet I was the only person left in the company who didn't know about it, and that was because I was spending the evening with the one employee at Thunderbird who won't talk.”

“That should be a point in my favor!”

“As far as Dana's concerned, absolutely. You get a gold star. As for me, you should have told me, at least before we had sex.” Man, did he sound judgmental. But he hated not having all the information he needed before he made a move. He'd thought he had all the necessary facts, so he'd jumped right in with both feet, or rather, with one significant part of his anatomy.

“So you're sorry we had sex?” She sounded troubled.

He didn't like hearing the distress in her voice, even if she deserved to feel that way. “No! Yes! I mean, I wasn't sorry before, but now I'm wondering how we'll deal with the office situation. I don't like sneaking around, and I'd rather not get transferred, either. I would have liked to know what I was getting
into.” The more he talked, the more indignant he became. “What were you thinking, letting me coax you into the back seat before telling me about this?”

“I wasn't thinking, okay? I told you I hadn't expected to get so involved on this first date, but you kept pushing!”

“Don't try to blame this on me. You were sending me the signals all night. You wanted me to push, so don't pretend you had nothing to do with what happened.”

“Of course I had something to do with it, but we both seemed to want the same thing tonight, so what's so wrong with that?”

Her admission of responsibility caused him to throttle back a notch on his anger. “What's wrong is that I was operating with a lack of vital information.”

Her chin came up. “The job shouldn't be what we're all about. I think if we'd spent the whole weekend together, as you planned, and I'd told you about this myself on Sunday night instead of you hearing it from Jed on the answering machine, you'd have had a completely different reaction.”

“That's when you planned to tell me? Sunday night?” Well, now he was well and truly pissed.

“Um, yes. I thought—”

“You would have let me go the whole damned weekend, getting in deeper and deeper, and
then
dropped the bombshell?”

“What bombshell? Why should this be such a big fat deal?”

“Oh, no reason. No reason at all. Only that you've
put me in a very awkward position, forced to choose between you and a transfer.”

“Maybe not. Maybe—”

“And if I decide to stay put,” he interrupted, in no mood to hear theories of how this
might
work out, “then you'll be supervising my every move, writing up my performance reviews, influencing my entire effing career. Other than that, it's no big deal at all!” He glared at her in total frustration. She hadn't intended to tell him until
Sunday,
damn it. He should have known she was too good to be true.

She glared back at him. Finally she shrugged. “Well, that's it, then. I guess this evening is over.”

“I would certainly say so.”

She picked up the purse she'd dropped beside the door. “For your information, I would never let what happened between us tonight influence how I deal with you at work.”

His patience was completely gone. “That's ridiculous. Of course it will influence you. You might say it won't, but it will. You can't treat me the same as the other salesmen, no matter how much you want to. In fact, I've just decided. I won't leave it up to Dana. On Monday I'll put in for a transfer.”

“Please don't do that.”

“Don't worry. I'll put a spin on it that eliminates potential gossip. I'm a salesman. I'm good at manipulating situations.”

She blew out a breath. “That is
not
why I'm worried about you asking for a transfer. Gossip doesn't scare me. This isn't about me, it's about the good of the company.”

“Oh, my God, here we go again. You deserve some sort of plaque for loyalty, you know that?”

“And you deserve an award for being terminally obnoxious! But the fact is, you're a leader in that office. Much as it pains me to say it in my current frame of mind, they'd miss you.”

He stopped himself from asking if
she'd
miss him. That was a cheap shot and they were both miserable enough as it was.

“Besides, Dana might refuse to transfer you,” she added.

“Then I'll just have to convince Dana that it's the best thing to do.”

“It's not the best thing, Andre.”

“Yes, it is. I wish I could think of an alternative, but I can't. I'm not going to be able to be around you without remembering…everything.” He would remember whether he was around her or not, and that was the worst part. Although he felt betrayed, he still wanted her, even now.

“I'd better go.”

“Yes.” He wondered if she'd read his mind, or if he was giving off non-verbal signals. If she made the slightest move in his direction, his control would snap and he'd haul her off to the bedroom. It wouldn't be tender, but it would be satisfying. And after what they'd already had together, another sexual incident or two with his soon-to-be boss wouldn't make much difference, now would it?

The more he thought about that, the more he felt justified in wanting another round. Why not? She'd enjoyed herself before, and she'd enjoy herself again.
And he could use some release from the tension caused by this new turn of events.

When she hesitated at the door, he held his breath. Once she was out that door, it was goodbye to the greatest sex he'd ever had.

If he transferred out of the office, technically they could continue to date, but he wouldn't want to, not after the way she'd misled him. Of course he wouldn't want to date her after that. But he could do with some more skin-to-skin contact with Lena before he gave up the chance forever.

“Goodbye, Andre. I'm sorry it turned out this way.”

“Me, too.” He watched her twist the knob and open the door. “Lena…”

“What?”

He cleared his throat. “You, um, don't have to leave, you know.”

She whirled to face him. For one wild moment he thought she was about to rush back into his arms. Then she spoke, and he knew right off that he'd misjudged the situation.

“You want me to stay and have more sex with you?” Her voice rose. “After accusing me of deliberately fooling you and creating huge problems at work, you want me to follow you into the bedroom so we can carry on some more?”

He shrugged. “The horse is already out of the barn, so I thought we might as well—”

“If that isn't
exactly
like a man!” She stepped out and slammed the door in his face.

He heaved a sigh. Well, he
was
a man. Apparently, at the moment, that wasn't a good thing.

 

L
ENA HAD NEVER
been much of a crier, but as she banged around her apartment after getting home from Andre's place, she wished she could cry. A real gully-washer might make her feel better. As it was, she wondered if she'd ever feel better.

What a mess. What a documented, certified, signed, sealed and delivered mess. Resisting the urge to call either Brandy or Meg, who by all rights would be asleep by now, she rummaged around for something to soothe her frazzled nerves. In the far corner of her refrigerator she found an open bottle of Bailey's and poured herself an eight-ounce glass of it.

Then she sprawled on her sofa and stared into space through the first four ounces. By the fifth ounce she no longer cared if Andre was the most amazing lover in the universe, or that he'd given her three, count 'em
three,
orgasms in under forty-five minutes. So what? He'd refused to understand why she hadn't told him about the promotion, which made him an insensitive jerk.

By the sixth ounce she'd not only sworn off Andre, she'd sworn off the entire male population. Never again would she be tempted by that certain smile, that tongue-wise kiss, those searching fingers that…uh-oh. She was heading down the wrong road with that train of thought.

After seven ounces she could finally admit to herself that she'd come
this close
to taking him up on his offer of more sex, even after he'd raked her over the coals for keeping the promotion a secret. She'd been weak, but she would be weak no longer.

Never mind that he was an outstanding nipple
man. Never mind that he was hung like a prize stallion. Never mind that he knew how to use that equipment to…uh-oh. Detour. Hazards ahead.

After she'd drained the glass, she started remembering all the adorable things he'd done. He'd eaten fast food without complaint and given belly dancing the old college try. He'd even forced himself to play goofy golf when all he'd really wanted to do was kiss her until they both went crazy with lust. She could still feel the urgency with which he'd pushed her inside his apartment and backed her up against the door, all the while thrusting his tongue inside her mouth and…uh-oh.

Good thing Andre wouldn't be walking in her door, because he'd find a pretty close to drunk woman who was ready to do anything he asked. And she wished with all her heart he would walk in the door. Yes, he was impossible. Yes, he was way too judgmental. But he was the sexiest, most lovable guy she'd ever met.

Unfortunately, even though he still wanted her, he didn't like her anymore.

Lena scooted down on the sofa, put her glass on the floor, rested her head on a throw pillow and went to sleep, leaving all the lights on. She dreamed that she was in charge of a muscled work crew that included Andre. And during their lunch breaks they would sneak away to have sex.

The phone woke her from that dream, and she put the pillow over her head in a desperate attempt to block out the morning light and get back to dreamland. No luck. Her answering machine picked up and she heard Meg's voice asking about her date.

Meg, one half of the traitorous duo who'd crashed the belly-dancing gig, had the nerve to call her. Meg, who had advised her to go for it now, before her job status changed. She didn't want to talk to Meg and certainly not about her date. Not ever, and especially not now, when she had a thumping headache and a crick in her neck from sleeping in a cramped position.

Oh, hell. If she didn't get up and call Meg back, Meg would call Brandy and they'd start speculating that Lena was still with Andre, that she'd slept over. Lena needed to squelch that rumor before it got started. Come to think of it, she was spoiling for a cat fight with Meg and Brandy. She was in the perfect mood for it.

Stumbling to the phone, she speed-dialed Meg.

“Lena!” Meg yelled into the phone.

Lena winced. “I take it somebody's had her quota of caffeine this morning.”

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