“You get to work way too early in the morning for me, so there’s zero chance we’ll be walking in together.”
Narrowing her eyes at him did nothing to kill the goofy grin he was wearing. “Don’t play, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“I know you’re taking this too seriously.”
“You’re not taking it seriously enough.” When it came to any type of interaction with men, she always took things seriously. She had no other choice. She’d been caught off guard before, and she wasn’t about to be in the position of having no control again.
Maurice shook his head quizzically. “Why should I? So what, we chatted on some message board for three months. That’s our private business, and we don’t have to answer to anyone for what we do in private. If we want to take those conversations to another level, same goes. It’s our decision.”
“I work for your father,” she said as if he didn’t already know. “And you’re just three steps shy of being called a manwhore across all media outlets. If anybody caught wind of the fact that we spent a weekend having freaky sex at a ski resort, we’d both be in for a whole lot of scrutinizing and questions. Is that what you want?”
His smile vanished and was replaced by a pensive look she rarely saw on him. All things considered, Maurice was a really good, down-to-earth guy. He was a fine-ass millionaire with an MBA in business and public relations, who loved his mother—and his whole family—profusely. Laughing was his favorite pastime, and hot ’n’ spicy was his favorite food group. They’d worked well together, which was great because a lot of times their roles at RGF in marketing and PR overlapped. Even knowing all that, there’d never been a day or a moment that she’d ever considered sleeping with him.
Until now.
“You know me better than that, Des. I’ve never moderated my steps to appease anybody, and I’m damn sure not starting now. You’re the woman I’ve been having very intimate conversations with. That makes you the woman I want to spend this weekend getting to know a whole lot better.” His tone remained serious, his gaze holding hers. “What we decide to do on Monday morning will be our decision, and that’s it. An option that’s not on the table is keeping secrets. Now, I’m not saying we take out a front-page ad describing what we’re doing, but I’m not going to hide from the world the way Riley and Chaz tried to do.”
Riley Gold was the chief executive of market research and product development at RGF and Maurice’s younger sister. Chaz Warren was the social-media guru turned brand manager at King Designs, RGF’s biggest competitor and former rival. Earlier this year, they’d hooked up in Milan for a hot weekend and returned to New York intending to keep their affair a secret. Long story short, word got out and drama ensued. Desta would reluctantly have to side with Maurice on this one: a secret affair wasn’t the way to go.
“You never stay with a woman past three dates, anyway.” The words sounded much saltier than she’d intended and implied that she’d paid more attention to his personal life than she had.
“You’re not a woman I would’ve ever asked on a date.”
That was a sharp retort, and for a few seconds she wondered how she should reply. “Because you know I’m not as gullible as the women you date, and I would never fall for that now is now and later is whatever I say it is speech you like to give them.”
He raised his gloriously thick and well-maintained eyebrows, giving her a barely amused look. “Stating my terms up front is safer for all involved.”
This man really was way too handsome and charming for his own good. His tawny-brown complexion was just a shade darker than her own creamy, light brown skin tone. His thick wavy hair was jet black, cut close on the sides, and his walnut eyes had the power to assess with scrutiny or melt with desire. She was somewhere in the middle of those sensations right now as he stared at her.
Her gaze didn’t waver even when she leaned forward again. “Then, I’ll be the one to state my terms first this time, so there’ll be no confusion.”
With a smirk he raised open arms and said, “Be my guest.”
Smug and sexy was a deadly combination.
“We’ve paid for this weekend and come all this way, so we might as well stay. Participation in any of the items on that agenda have to be discussed and mutually agreed upon. Before we leave on Sunday, we’ll talk about next steps. I don’t make it a habit of flaunting my personal business at work, but I’ve never been one to hide my truth, either.”
The latter wasn’t totally honest. There’d been a time—way too long ago, now that she thought back on it—that she’d lost herself and hadn’t known which way to go to save whatever part of her was left. But that time had passed, and she’d be damned if she’d start down that road ever again. To prove that point she’d decided to spend this weekend with Maurice, but that decision was in no way acquiescence to his wants. She fully planned to call the shots concerning whatever they did for the next two days. If she wasn’t feeling it, she wasn’t doing it, no matter what Maurice said or did. She wasn’t operating under his thumb anymore, doing whatever he said just to keep the peace or to keep him from... With an inner shake she reminded herself that Maurice wasn’t her ex-fiancé.
“Sounds good to me.” A nod followed his quickly spoken words. “You wanna know what else sounds good? The BBQ ribs and homemade potato salad I saw on the menu for a little restaurant just down
