Eight o’clock the next morning, Cole stepped off his work elevator and made his way toward Jane’s desk with a smug feeling of victory. I have a plan.
Unbuttoning his coat with one hand while holding his black briefcase in the other, he smiled down at his paralegal as he stopped in front of her desk. Jane had been working for him for six of the eight years she had been with the firm.
As she sat there, staring up at him, he could tell she knew something was different about him.
Taking the envelopes she held out to him, he inclined his head as she greeted him with a warm smile.
“Good morning, Mr. Madison.”
“Good morning, Jane.”
“Apparently, it is. You seem positively upbeat this morning.”
Cole knew not to take that the wrong way. Jane was one of the few people who ever told him the truth on a regular basis, so it wasn’t out of the norm for her to point out when he was being a miserable asshole.
“I think today is going to be a very informative day.”
Jane chuckled as she adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses on her nose. “Is that right?”
Tapping the envelopes on the edge of the desk, Cole lifted his briefcase and gave her a rare smile. “Oh yes, Jane, that is right. Can you do me a favor?”
“Of course, what—”
Just as she was about to continue, her phone rang. Cole gestured for her to take it as he turned and moved toward his office door.
“Good morning. This is the law office of Mitchell & Madison. Jane speaking.”
Opening his office door, Cole walked in and closed it behind him. After placing his briefcase on the black leather couch sitting against the wall by the door, he shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the rack. Walking to his desk, he undid the two buttons securing his gray pinstripe jacket. He tugged the bottom of the vest that accompanied the outfit into place as he looked down at the documents Jane had deposited in his inbox.
On the very top of the stack, he noticed a small yellow memo note that had two words: Call Becky.
Damn it. That was the last person he wanted to deal with today. Why can’t it be Friday already? That way I could go up there in person. Instead, he had two more days to push through before he could take off.
Cole sat down and ran a frustrated hand back through his hair. He let out a deep breath, and for a moment, he forgot the reason for his good mood. Looking at the day planner on his desk, he figured if he got Jane to move a few of his meetings around, he could leave the city by three o’clock tomorrow afternoon.
“Jane!” he called.
Immediately, she popped her head in and looked him over, her smile turning to a frown. She made her way into the office and stopped in front of his desk. “You got the memo, I see.”
“Yes.” Cole sighed as he stood with his eyes still on his calendar. “Is there any way you can shuffle around tomorrow’s meetings? Maybe get Harrison in here at ten and Fogerty at noon. I’ll skip lunch and see Gallagher at one. I want to try to be out of here by three. Three thirty at the latest.”
“Yes, that shouldn’t be a problem.” Nodding, Jane scribbled down a few notes. “Do you still need that favor?”
Cole thought about it for a minute. Really, he should wait until next week, but he got the impression that if he did, he would somehow lose the upper hand in the scenario. And, this was a scenario he very much wanted to have his hands in.
“Yes.” Pulling a Post-it note from the stack on his desk, he wrote down two words of his own: Rachel Langley. “Her family owns and runs that restaurant Exquisite, downtown.”
“Oh yes, I’ve been there a few times with Gary. Isn’t that the one run by Mason Langley? He was in all the gossip magazines for a while.”
“Yes, that’s the one, he’s her brother. Well, she also runs a flower shop. I’d like the number to that shop.” Cole sat down again and leaned back in his chair.
Jane looked him over with a small smirk tugging at her lips.
“What?”
“Nothing, sir.”
Jane turned to walk out of the office, but Cole wasn’t letting her leave without knowing what that was all about.
“Jane?”
“Yes, Mr. Madison?”
“Jane Markham. I’m positive I have told you to call me Cole when you’re in here. Now, what was all of that?”
“All of what?”
Rocking back in his leather chair, Cole placed his elbows on the armrests and steepled his fingers. “That smirk.”
“There was no smirk, Mr. Madison.”
“Cole, Jane. And there was a smirk.” Sitting forward, he placed his arms on the desk, waiting patiently for her to answer.
“Oh, fine.” Jane told him slightly exasperated, and stepped back across the room to place her hands on the desk. “In the six years I have worked for you, not once have you asked me to get you a woman’s phone number.”
Cole looked up at his paralegal. He was about to deny that statement wholeheartedly, but he found he couldn’t bring himself to lie, so instead, he shut his mouth.
“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” She smirked again.
“There is no secret, Jane. Maybe I just want to order some flowers.”
Straightening, Jane adjusted her glasses again and then wiped her hands down her prim skirt. “I’m sure that’s all there is to it, Mr. Madison.”
Arching his brow, he shook his head. “I think you are placating me, Jane.”
Jane spun on her heel and made her way to his door. She opened it and then turned back to him with a smile. “And I think you are omitting the truth, Mr. Madison.”
Chuckling, Cole conceded, “Perhaps, Jane, perhaps.”
“I’ll have the number for you as soon as I locate it,” she told him. “So you can order those flowers.” She gave him a huge I’m-on-to-you grin before she turned and closed the door behind her.
Damn perceptive woman. With a grin of his own, Cole opened the first envelope on his desk, conveniently pushing aside any thoughts of Becky.
“Mr. McClusky, how many times do I have to tell you? I don’t go out for coffee with customers,” Rachel said to the little old man standing on the opposite side of the cash register. “Even the charming ones.”
“One day, young lady, you will change your mind.”
Mr. McClusky had been stopping by every week since Rachel had reopened the store. One morning, he had come in and told her a wonderful story about how his wife loved fresh flowers in the house. So, every week, he would show up and buy her a bouquet of bright blooms. The man was full of interesting stories, and he was an incorrigible flirt. If Rachel had to guess, she’d place him mid seventies.
“And what would Mrs. McClusky have to say about that? Hmm?”
“Oh, don’t you worry about her, Rainbow. She doesn’t have to know you took an old man out for coffee.”
Laughing at the nickname he had given her, Rachel handed him the large bouquet. “But I would know, and I just wouldn’t feel right.”
“Well, at least tell an old man something fun. What color is next week?” he asked, gesturing to the blue tips that were curled over her shoulders this morning.
Rachel cocked her hip and placed a hand on it, pretending to think it over carefully. “You know what? I haven’t thought about it yet. Any suggestions?”
She had to hold back a full-on giggle as the old man in the green tweed coat looked her over very seriously.
“Red. I see you with red.”
Rachel thought about that for a moment as she walked around the counter toward the man she now absolutely adored.
“Red, huh? That’s bold.”
With a mischievous grin, he held out the crook of his arm to her. Rachel couldn’t help the wink she gave him as she slipped her arm through his. He patted her hand as they walked toward the front door.
“Don’t try and tell me you aren’t an outgoing young lady. I see that twinkle in your eye.”
“Oh, you do, do you?”
“Yes, missy, I do. My Clara has that twinkle, too.”
Stopping at the front door, Rachel reached out and twisted the handle. When she pulled it open, the bells chimed above. She leaned down and laid a gentle kiss on the man’s cheek. “Well, I will take that as a compliment. Your Clara is a very lucky lady.”
“So, red?” he suggested again as he let go of her arm. He made it down two steps and then turned back to look at her standing in the doorway.
Rachel nodded and waved. “Come back next week, and see for yourself.”
“I think you just asked me on a date.”
As he turned and pushed his free hand into his pocket, Rachel couldn’t help the warmth that spread in her chest. Incorrigible indeed.
Making her way back into the shop, she headed over to the counter where Tulip was lying beside her laptop. She now kept it handy for orders and to update the website she had designed for the store. This morning, she had placed an ad for some part-time help, providing her email address and the shop’s phone number for applicants.
Clicking open her inbox, she was happy to see she had received six emails since the ad had been posted two and a half hours ago. Good. Maybe I’ll find some half-decent help, she thought as she opened the first inquiry.
Bonnie Sampson. Work experience: McDonald’s and babysitting. Education: high school diploma, currently enrolled at Midwestern University. Looking for morning part-time position.
Okay, so that one could work, but I really needed an afternoon person, Rachel thought as she closed it and moved to the second email on the list.
Kate O’Neal. Work experience: O’Malley’s Pub. Education: high school diploma, currently attending the University of Chicago. Looking for a part-time job in the afternoons.
This one looks like a good possibility as well, she thought. So far, so good.
She wrote down two numbers on her notepad. Rachel clicked on the next message, and she was about to read it when the shop phone started to ring. Minimizing the screen, she answered the phone with the usual greeting.
“Precious Petals. This is Rachel. How can I help you?”
You can come to my office, and let me take off all your clothes, Cole thought as he stood. He stared out the large window in his office as Rachel’s smooth voice flowed through the phone.
When he didn’t say anything, she repeated, “Hello? Can I help you?”
“Hi. I’m here. I’m actually calling about the ad that’s posted online.”
“Oh yes, the part-time position.”
Cole imagined her smiling. It was an expression he had seen a couple of times although it had never been directed at him.
Not really believing his ridiculous behavior, Cole almost hung up until her voice came through the phone again.
“You’re the first guy to call about it actually. Huh, I didn’t expect that—a guy working in a flower shop.”
“Excuse me?” Cole questioned, not knowing if she expected an answer.
“Oh, nothing. I’m sorry. Of course, the job is open to both males and females. I’m in no way sexist.”
Biting back a laugh, Cole found himself enjoying her rambling for the moment. “Well, that’s good. I might have had to call a lawyer.”
“Ugh. Don’t do that. I can’t stand lawyers,” she admitted good-naturedly.
That interested Cole immensely. Turning his chair to face the window, he sat down and leaned back, crossing his ankle over his knee. “You don’t like lawyers? Why’s that? Bad experience?”
Rachel seemed to forget that he was a potential employee candidate as she began to talk his ear off. “Well, they always turn up at such horrible times, don’t they? Divorces, accidents, deaths.” Her voice faded out, but then she muttered, “Reading of wills.”
Cole could understand her aversion, but it would make it that much harder to get her in his bed.
“I’m sorry! You’re calling about the job, and here I am, going on about something not even remotely related.”
“Yes, about the job, I’m wondering if the position has been filled yet. Or can I come in for an interview?”
There was a pause, and he wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn he heard her whisper, “Tulip!”
“Yes. I mean, no. No, the position hasn’t been filled, and yes, you can come by for an interview.”
Cole wasn’t sure why he was so surprised she was all over the place. From the beginning, he’d known she was anything but ordinary, and that was one of the reasons he was so intrigued. Another was the fact that she tried to contain all her wild energy whenever she turned up at that club.
He thought she needed to be free, free to be this woman on the other end of the phone. She could be free to be all over the place as long as she had someone like him there to anchor her and pull her back in when needed.
“I need a name first,” she pointed out and waited.
Shit. He hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“C.J.,” he told her, giving his first and middle initials. He could hear her moving around, and he presumed she was writing it down.
“C.J.?”
Last name. She needs my last name. Well, I hope she doesn’t know it, or if she does, I hope she doesn’t put it together.
“Madison,” Cole said, waiting for an accusation to be hurled through the phone.
Instead, she just said, “Okay C.J., when do you think you can stop by?”
“Today?” he asked without any thought or hesitation.
She’s so close. She was so close to being right where he wanted her—in a room alone with him.
“Today?” she repeated back, like she hadn’t expected him to come by so soon. “Umm…well, it depends on what time you’re thinking. I have to be downtown by seven tonight. Do you think you could stop by here around four?”
Cole felt a self-satisfied smirk cross his face. “Yes. I am positive I can be there by four...Mrs.?”
Rachel laughed loudly at that. “Oh no, please. I’m not married. You can call me Rachel.”
Oh, I plan to call it—when I’m deep inside you while you’re screaming my name.
“Okay, Rachel, I will see you at four. Is the address on the website correct?”
“Yep, all the info is correct.”
“I’ll see you at four then.”
“Yes, I will be there. See you soon.”
After disconnecting the call and placing his phone on the desk, Cole wondered just how congenial Rachel would be when he arrived as one C.J. Madison.
Three fifty rolled around quicker than Rachel had expected. She was happy to have several interviews lined up throughout the week. Right now, she needed to step into the back room and do a quick touch-up on her makeup since her four o’clock would be here any moment.
Well, she hoped he would be punctual. After all, it would show he gave a shit. Oh hell, she thought, realizing that had sounded very much like Cole. She groaned at the thought that he was rubbing off on her in any way.
In the small bathroom, Rachel looked herself over in the mirror. Fluffing what was left of her black curls, she pouted at her reflection. She pulled out her cherry red lip-gloss from her pocket and slicked her lips. Just as she decided that she was happy with the result, the bells from above the front door chimed. Yes, she thought as her blue eyes stared back at her, this is presentable for an interview. Time to go and meet the potential lifesaver.
She wiped her hands on the red apron looped over her neck and tied around her waist. She turned and made her way up the back aisle to the front of the shop. As she walked through the doorway between the two areas, she came to a complete stop as her eyes connected with broad shoulders covered by a black wool coat.
No, no, no! Rachel’s mind screamed. It can’t be him. He hasn’t turned around yet, so maybe there is a slight possibility—oh hell, who am I kidding? I’d know that rigid backbone anywhere.
Glancing up at the clock, Rachel watched as the big hand moved in slow motion to make that final tick to the twelve, confirming it was now four o’clock. She had missed locking him out by only ten minutes. Why didn’t I lock the damn door before? He was the last person she wanted to deal with when C.J. turned up. Well, better get this over with. Keep it professional, Rachel.
Clearing her throat, Rachel made her way behind the counter. Best to have something between us. He turned to face her, and just like that, she was reminded of exactly why she needed an obstacle to separate them. Those damn eyes were serious and far too perceptive as they looked her over, like he was studying her for later consideration.
Pushing his hands into his pockets, he took several steps forward. Rachel was certain to track those steps with absolute focus. After what felt like an eternity, he finally stopped directly in front of her, standing on the opposite side of the counter, as Rachel allowed herself to look up and meet his eyes. She reached out to grip the edge of the counter as the heat between them increased, threatening to melt her on the spot. Holy shit, this guy is something else. She knew she needed to get rid of him quickly, so Rachel steeled herself against the sizzling once over he was giving her. She decided to go with cocky. With a bit of luck, she hoped that maybe her attitude would get rid of him.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m almost positive this falls under the stalking category.”
Cole took a moment to look around the small flower shop. He was surprised to find that she really fit in here. Bursts of color were everywhere in the form of red roses, a rainbow of tulips, and bright yellow sunflowers displayed in a large aluminum can.
With her colorful hair and bright persona, this place seemed exactly right for her. Now, it’s time to get that wild side to come out and play.
“You’d be wrong,” he stated matter-of-factly.
He removed his hands from his pockets and began to undo the buttons of his coat. When her eyes dropped directly to his hands, he had to stifle a laugh as she watched him intently.
What exactly is she thinking? Better yet, why should I guess when I can just ask? “You don’t mind if I unbutton my coat, do you?”
Her eyes shifted directly back to his as she moistened her painted bottom lip and shook her head. “No. I mean, no, I don’t mind…not no, you can’t.”
After undoing the final button, Cole shrugged a little to let the material part and relax around his body.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, finding her footing again.
Cole lifted his arm and made a show of pushing it forward, so his silver watch appeared from beneath his coat and sleeve. Looking down at it and then back to her, he allowed himself a moment of enjoyment. He then turned to look at the clock on her wall. “Well, I’m sure I was told to be here at four.”
He could see the wheels turning behind those annoyed blue eyes of hers. He decided he didn’t care how long it took her to come to her final conclusion. He was happy to stand there for a minute, just looking at her.
Her hair was down today, hanging in loose curls over her shoulders. Her eyes had been enhanced with what looked like blue and silver glitter across the lids. Instead of looking ridiculous, it just made her more appealing, like a shiny toy he wanted to touch.
She’d colored her fabulous mouth a sinful red that made Cole think about how good that color would look smeared all over his—Yeah, well, best not to think about that at the moment.
While he couldn’t see much of what she was wearing, the apron that was wrapped around her waist made him want to untie it. He liked undoing things, and the thought of undoing her was extremely appealing.
“You were told to be here at four?” she asked in a tone that screamed bullshit.
“Yes, definitely four today. I never miss a meeting.”
“You’re insane.” She muttered in frustration as she ran her hand through her hair. “The only person who should be here at four is C…”
Ahh, the penny has finally dropped, Cole thought as he tilted his head to the side. “Who?”
“You presumptuous jerk!” She stormed around the counter.
Well, I’m not going to argue with that.
Cole turned and met the feisty woman head-on. As she stopped in front of him, he became immensely satisfied when she had to crane her head back to look up at him.
“You set this whole damn thing up! C.J. my ass,” she hissed like a pissed-off wet cat.
Cole admitted to the accusation without a shred of remorse. “Guilty. And as for your ass…well, I am definitely open to discussing it.”
Her cheeks flushed as her annoyance and irritation began to overwhelm her, and then there was the fact that she had been duped.
“Your arrogance is unbelievable!” she fumed, turning to storm away from him.
Cole decided it was now or never. He reached out and took ahold of her arm in a firm but gentle grip. She stopped where she was, like her feet were glued to the ground, but she didn’t turn around.
Okay, Miss Langley, let’s get all the cards out on the table.
Breathe. Just breathe. That was the mantra Rachel was repeating over and over in her mind as she felt the heat of his tall body move in close behind her. The hand that had firmly grasped her left arm had still not let go, and just as she was about to request her freedom, she felt a second hand wrap around her right arm.
Closing her eyes against what she knew was about to happen, Rachel wasn’t surprised when she felt Cole’s strong body brush up against her back.
Why did I ever go to that damn club? Oh, that’s right. I was lonely. Well, look at what that got me.
The man standing behind her now wanted something she was not willing to give. Oh, she was human. She wanted companionship, and she craved to be touched, but Rachel wanted the control. She never wanted to be the helpless one again—ever.
The only problem with this scenario was the way she melted at the thought of giving it all over to a suit named Cole.
“Where are you going, Rachel?”
His voice, dark and seductive, slid down her spine.
“You need to take your hands off of me.” She was proud of herself for getting even that much past the lump in her throat.
Immediately, he released her arms.
Instead of fleeing the way she had imagined she would, she stayed frozen and waited.
“They’re off. I won’t touch you again until you ask me to,” Cole whispered.
Rachel couldn’t help the ridiculous noise that escaped her throat. She tried to convince herself that it was somewhere between a laugh and a cough, but she knew it ended up sounding more like a bark.
“Well, don’t hold your breath,” she retorted.
“Why? Are you worried for my health?”
“No,” she denied emphatically.
This time, she turned her head to look over her shoulder, forgetting how close he was. Her mouth was now only a whisper from his, and as their eyes collided, Rachel felt her heart almost thump right out of her chest.
“In that case, I repeat, I won’t touch you again…until you ask me to.”
Rachel blinked and clenched her jaw as she watched his eyes trace what felt like every line of her face. Finally gathering her nerve, she pivoted around to face him. He stood back up to his full height, which caused him to look down at her, as he waited with what seemed like infinite patience.
“And what if that’s never?” she countered.
“It won’t be,” he answered with far too much confidence.
“I hate to be the one to tell you this, but I don’t want to date you.”
Rachel studied him as he moved his coat aside. He pushed his hands into the snug pockets of his pants, which automatically drew her eyes to his crotch. She instantly became infuriated because she knew that had been his goal.
“I don’t remember asking to date you,” he said matter-of-factly, taking a step closer.
Rachel refused to back up. With men like him, she knew she needed to stand her ground.
“I want to touch you, Rachel, all of you, but I won’t until you ask me to.”
Rachel was finding it harder and harder to breath. The man is too fucking much—cocky, arrogant, sexy, and bad. Oh yeah, and it didn’t help that the look in his eyes and the tone in his voice screamed all the bad things he wanted to do to her. He was making it impossible for her to think rationally.
How can I be getting all hot and bothered over a man wearing a three-piece pinstripe suit? He is my exact opposite. Think, Rachel, think!
“There’s one small problem here, don’t you think?” she questioned.
She watched his light brown brow arch while his serious mouth twitched with what she could only guess was some form of humor.
“And what’s that?” he asked with a smile.
Rachel swallowed and decided it was now or never.
“We both want to be on top.”
Cole couldn’t help the wicked thrill he felt snake up his spine at her words.
“I’m not averse to being underneath you, Rachel, not in the least.”
She placed her hands on her hips as her eyes moved from his face, to his body, and then back up to meet his eyes again.
“You’d never let someone control you,” she accused.
“Is that what you want? To control me?”
As she licked her lips, Cole felt a delicious bolt run straight to his cock.
Fuck, she just might be able to control me with the way my body is reacting to her.
“I won’t lie. I wouldn’t mind getting you out of that suit. How many layers do you have on anyway?”
Cole considered her question before he extended an invitation. “Come closer, and find out.”
Shaking her head, she finally took a step back. “No, thank you, not here and not now.”
Following her retreat, Cole pushed. “When and where then?”
It wasn’t fair, he knew that, but as her back met the wall, Cole kept up his approach until his shoes met hers and their clothes were touching. He knew she had no idea, but every time she looked up at him from under her lashes, it made him want to lean down and take her mouth with his.
“When, Rachel?”
Her glittering eyes were conflicted, and her breathing was coming out hard enough that her breasts were brushing against his chest with each exhale. Pulling one hand from his pocket, he was shocked when the desire he saw in her dampened, and he was sure a hint of fear appeared. Moving back a few inches, Cole brought up his hand to show her he wasn’t doing anything more than unwrapping a piece of candy.
Her eyes shifted to his fingers before returning to his with questions. As he started to unwrap it, he asked again, “When and where, Rachel?”
She remained silent as he brought the small square to her mouth. Pressing it against her bright red bottom lip, he wasn’t surprised when she opened immediately, taking the candy into her mouth.
As she sucked it between her lips, Cole leaned down to her ear and informed her smoothly, “Caramel. You asked me the other day what I was sucking. I love caramel. In fact, I will do just about anything for it. Now, tell me, Rachel, when and where are you going to get me out of my suit?”
He could hear her sucking on the caramel square as she turned her head and met his eyes.
With the smell the sugar emanating from her breath, she whispered, “Tomorrow night. Eleven o’clock at Whipped.”
Cole winced. “I can’t.”
“More like won’t.” Rachel shook her head, breaking the spell.
“I said that I couldn’t. I never lie. You should know that about me right now.”
Cole thought about what he needed to do tomorrow. Knowing there was no way out of it, he came up with a compromise “How about tonight?”
“I work, hotshot. Now, can you move? I need to close up and head that way. You snooze, you lose.”
He stepped back, letting her walk away from him, but not before he warned her. “Rachel, I never lose. What about after work?”
“Tonight?” She stood behind the counter again, effectively protecting herself.
“Yes, after your shift at Exquisite. If you’re feeling brave, tell me where to be, and I’ll be there.”
He watched as her hands gripped the counter, her knuckles turning white.
“It’s not a matter of bravery. It’s about you keeping a promise. Will you be able to do that?”
“If I tell you I will do something, I will do it, no matter what it costs me. So, what will it be?”
He stared at her as she moved the caramel in her mouth, and he found himself fighting the urge to go and take a taste.
“Okay, tonight, but not at Whipped. Meet me here at one.”
Cole looked around the small shop, assessing the space. He wasn’t about to argue with her. The plan had been for him to be alone in a room with her. He didn’t care which room, and as she shook her head, letting her hair fall down her back, he found he didn’t give a shit about anything other than that.
If she wanted him naked, that was fine by him. The next stop after that would involve her minus her clothes, so however they got there didn’t bother him as long as they got there.
“I’ll be here,” he told her. When she gave him an amused look, he added, “And, Rachel, this better not be some trick of yours. If you don’t show, I will find you, and when I do, you best believe that this offer will be off the table.”
As her face turned serious, Cole tilted forward in a mock bow and then turned on his heel. Moving to the door of the shop, he couldn’t help the immense feeling of satisfaction he felt when he heard her mutter, “Know-it-all jerk.” All he could think was, Got you.