Tate’s mind was clouded and he was in no position to make decisions. Piper had been dreaming of this moment since their brief encounter in the women’s bathroom, but if she kissed him now, she would be taking advantage of the situation. She had a feeling that Tate didn’t give out kisses lightly—she hadn’t seen him kiss any woman since, though she couldn’t say what he did in the privacy of a public bathroom. Call her crazy, but if he ever decided to kiss her again, she wanted it to mean something, and she wanted him to remember it in the morning.
Shaking her head, Piper tried to pull away, but Tate tightened his hold, drawing her closer and tilting her face up to meet his. In a blink, his mouth was on hers, his lips moving in a sensual dance that ignited a fire deep inside her.
Piper trembled against him, stepping closer as her hands slipped mindlessly up his chest to curl around his shoulders. When his tongue stroked over her bottom lip, she instinctively knew what he wanted, and opened to allow him inside. His tongue wasted no time tangling with hers, sending a bolt of electricity straight to her groin, and Piper moaned.
The clearing of a throat behind her broke the spell, reminding her that they were still in public with a ready audience, and this time, Piper forced herself to break the connection.
Thomas looked down at her, his expression unreadable. “I’ll take that as a no,” he said caustically, and Piper felt the sting of embarrassment prickle her skin.
Nibbling her kiss swollen lips, she shook her head mutely and held out the business card.
Thomas accepted it back, an act that bothered her more than it should. “Have a good evening,” he said sharply, then, with long, easy strides, walked back into the club without a backward glance.
Piper sighed, turning back to Tate. He wore a cocky smile and the sudden urge to smack him struck her in the chest as something occurred to her. Had he kissed her just to run Thomas off? Had he used her as a pawn in some twisted game of his?
Of course, that was probably it, she realized.
If there was one thing she had learned about Tate, it was that he liked his possessions and he wasn’t one who shared well with others. She was just another possession to him. A toy forgotten about and shoved into a closet, until someone else wanted to play with her.
Fury rose up like a tide and Piper reached past him to wrench open the door. “Get in. It’s time to go home,” she snapped. Once again, she had allowed Tate Larson to hurt her, and all it had taken was one stupid kiss. She could just kick herself for letting opportunity slip through her fingers.
Tate climbed into the passenger seat looking as smug as ever. Anger rode on her back, but as she rounded the car, Piper touched her fingers to her lips, some of her anger dissipating. Tate Larson was going to be the death of her, but oh, what a way to die.
10
Piper raced around the apartment the following morning. She’d woken up late and now had to run if she expected to get to Tate’s on time. Gathering everything she needed, she made a beeline to the street and wove her way down the sidewalks to the coffee shop. The short pause to wait in line was enough to get her breathing back under control before she whizzed up the street again to Tate’s building and hopped on the elevator. The ride to the fifth floor seemed to take longer than usual and she could feel her heart pounding against her ribcage as she stepped off and came within view of his front door.
A quick consultation with her watch told her that she was indeed late. Tate was going to be pissed, but there was nothing she could do about it now. What was done was done, but she really wasn’t in the mood to listen to another one of his verbal tirades this morning.
Knocking, Piper waited an eternity before she concluded that he wasn’t going to answer. Probably punishment for being tardy she groused as she slipped her hand into her purse and retrieved the spare key he had provided her with so she could come and go freely when running his errands.
The apartment was dark and profoundly quiet when she stepped inside, which was nothing unusual. A quick visual scan revealed nothing out-of-place. Toeing off her shoes, she padded into the living room and deposited her things on the oblong table, then went in search of the man in question.
Faint snoring drifted from behind his closed bedroom door, and Piper felt some of the tension lift from her shoulders at the knowledge of not having to endure his temper tantrum over a few lost minutes.
Entering his room, she found him lying on his stomach, the blankets bunched in a mound at his feet. She approached the foot of the bed and paused to take in the sight of him. Wearing a pair of black BVDs that made his ass look round and firm like an apple, and nothing else, he was simply mouth-watering to look at. Lost in sleep, what she could see of his face revealed its usual scowl was absent, making him seem almost boyish in a youthful, angelic way. She almost felt bad for having to wake him up.
Almost.
Slapping the bottom of his bare foot, she shouted into the room. “Rise and shine!”
Tate groaned and buried his face in the pillow. “Just ten more minutes.”
No doubt he was nursing one hell of a hangover. Piper smiled as she crossed the room and yanked open the curtains, letting bright morning sunlight pour inside. “You had ten minutes ten minutes ago,” she informed. “Time to get up.” He huffed, and then flipped onto his back, scowling at her behind tightly closed lids. “Hmm, I see someone is already up,” Piper quipped, taking in the view of his impressive erection.
“It’s morning wood and if you’re going to stand there molesting me with your eyes, the least you can do is take your clothes off and hop on.” He stretched his long body, forcing the erection to strain against the cotton fabric. As much as she wanted to, Piper couldn’t bring herself to look away. When he palmed himself and began rubbing, Piper fought not to take him up on his offer.
“You need to get up and get showered,” she managed to say. “You have a long day ahead of you.”
“If you haven’t already noticed, I am up and I am very, very long.” Tate smiled wickedly, sending a bolt of white-hot desire racing through her. “Why don’t you come over here and give me a hand?”
He extended his and, unbidden, Piper felt her body inch forward. Thankfully, before she could reach out and take his hand, her phone rang. It was like an ice bath to her libido. She stepped back and skirted around the bed toward the door. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you give yourself a hand? I have a phone call to take.”
“You want me,” she heard Tate call out to her as she entered the living room and retrieved her purse. She didn’t deny it, she did want him, but if she got him, she would want all of him and call her crazy, but she couldn’t picture Tate Larson as the settling down type.
“Hello, Piper Donovan speaking.”
“Piper, honey, good morning. How are you?” The sound of Cindi’s sunny voice put an instant smile on her face.
“Your son is a cad, but other than that, I’m doing well. How about yourself?”
One thing she had learned about Cindi, she may be in her fifties and her body may be aging, but her mind was as young and sharp as ever. Sometimes, Piper felt like she was just another one of her girlfriends, and maybe she was. They certainly talked about personal stuff enough to qualify her as one.
“I’m doing well. How’s my son? I take it he’s giving you a hard time.”
Piper’s thoughts flashed on Tate’s roaming hand, and her belly flipped. “You could say that.”
“Don’t pay any mind to him,” Cindi said, and Piper could almost hear her waving a dismissive hand. “Tate has always been incorrigible. A swift kick in the ass should set him back on the right track.”
Piper laughed. What she wouldn’t give to introduce his hind quarters to her pumps. “You have no idea how good that sounds,” she confessed wistfully. “But then I would be out of a job and on a bus back to Alabama before you could snap your fingers.”
“You always have a bed here if you need one.”
The unexpected offer caused Piper’s eyes
to sting. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and strode into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee—anything to distract herself from the sudden flood of emotion pressing down on her. “Thanks, Cindi,” she said genuinely. “I’ll keep that in mind.” As she dumped a scoop of grounds into a filter, a thought occurred to her. “No offense, but how does a woman as sweet as yourself give birth to demon spawn?”
Piper pulled the phone away from her ear as Cindi burst into laughter. “Oh, Piper, I can’t count how many times I have asked myself that very question. I’ll tell you what I tell the girls at the salon, he gets it from his father.”
The sound of running water filtered down the hall and Piper figured she had about ten minutes before Tate came charging. “I hate to let you go,” she told Cindi as she poured coffee into her special mug, “but I have so much to do today. Was there something you needed?”
“Oh, yes,” Cindi said, her voice perking up. “I was just calling to invite you both down for supper tomorrow evening. Say seven o’clock?”
Piper didn’t want to say no. She really liked Tate’s mother, but…well, she was Tate’s mother and even though she had accompanied Tate to her home in the past, she couldn’t help feeling like she might be stepping over some invisible line. But then, Tate was the one who made her cross it in the first place. “I’ll have to check with Tate and go over his schedule first, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“What shouldn’t be a problem?” Tate chose that moment to enter the room. Piper glanced up and her breath stalled as she took in the sight of him standing there in a pair of low slung jeans with beads of water still clinging to his bare chest and stomach. Sliding up to the counter, he bypassed the coffee she’d brought him and took the mug from her clenched fingers, smirking as he poured in a healthy dose of creamer. He arched a questioning eyebrow, snapping Piper out of her daze.
She blinked several times, embarrassment tingeing her cheeks scarlet. “Cindi is inviting us to dinner tomorrow night.”
“My mom’s on the phone?” He grabbed the phone from her hand and pressed it to his ear. “Hey, ma.”
Piper watched him as he retreated to the living room and dropped down onto an overstuffed chair. Something Patti told her once about how a man treated the women closest to him being an indicator of the kind of husband and father he would become entered her thoughts. Tate was so sweet to his mother, patient and caring, just like a good son should, but with every other woman in his life, he was rude, crude and an all-around jackass. So which one was the true measure of him? How could someone so handsome and charming be so ugly?
She was lost in her own thoughts when her phone was suddenly thrust in front of her face. “Dinner tomorrow night at seven.” Tate poured himself another cup of coffee and strode into the dining room, plopping down at the desk and firing up the computer. “Let’s get to work, shall we? I don’t pay you to stand around daydreaming.”
Piper gritted her teeth as she sat down at the table and began organizing her things. “You don’t pay me, Tate.”
He huffed. “I might as well be. Every minute you waste is money lost.”
She grudgingly admitted to herself that he had a point, but that didn’t stop her from glaring daggers into the back of his skull. “Maybe you should start docking my pay,” she muttered sarcastically as she consulted the day’s calendar.
“That’s probably the best idea you’ve come up with yet.” Tate spun around in his chair and leveled her with a brilliant smile.
Piper shot him a withering look then began rattling off his agenda. “And tomorrow you have a late meeting, but we should be able to make it to your mother’s in time,” she finished saying a few minutes later. Thankfully, the schedule was pretty clear for the rest of the week and she was looking forward to getting a little down time.
“Why aren’t you using the Blackberry Felix supplied you with?”
Piper looked down at the spiral bound organizer and shrugged. “I like this better.” She had tried the Blackberry but found that, as helpful as others might consider it, she just operated better with old-fashioned pen and paper.
“It’s inefficient.” He sneered at the tablet as if it were completely offensive.
“It isn’t for me.” Piper was trying to keep her voice neutral. There was no sense in getting into a shouting match over her organizational skills.
“Time is money,” he reminded her. Piper’s jaw clenched at his words. If he said that one more time, she was going to ram her binder down his throat and watch him choke on it.
“Then I suggest you turn around and get to work,” she said smartly, tapping her watch. His eyes narrowed, but she thought she caught a hint of amusement shinning in them before he turned around and began typing.
*****
“Where the hell have you been?”
Piper had barely stepped through the door before Tate started shouting. “Running errands. What else would I be spending my afternoon on?” she asked in a bored tone. She was feeling a little run down after the long day she’d had and wasn’t in the mood to entertain another one of his tantrums.
“Well I ran out of coffee over an hour ago,” he complained.
“Then you should have made some more,” she retorted, barely able to contain her annoyance. “I’m sure if Mr. Sinclair had known you had such weak ankles, he would have hired two assistants so you would never have to lift a finger for yourself again.” Okay, so maybe her attitude had sprung a small leak.
As she crossed the room, she draped the dry cleaning bag over the back of a dining room chair then carried the armload of grocery bags into the kitchen.
“I’m sure if Mr. Sinclair had known what a mouthy brat you were, you never would have made it past the first day.” Piper glanced up to find Tate bent over the island watching her. “You need to be more careful, eggs are fairly breakable you know.”
Arching her eyebrow, Piper plunked another egg into the plastic container. “Are you telling me how to do my job?”
“If you can’t do it right, you bet your sweet little ass I am.” Stretching out his arm, his palm facing the ceiling, he wiggled his fingers at her. “Give them to me.”
Stubbornly, Piper swiped the plastic container and carton of eggs off the counter and moved to the opposite side of the kitchen. “No.”
Tate’s eyes rounded at her behavior. “I didn’t think it was possible, but you just reached a whole new level of crazy. Now give me my eggs before you break them.”
It was childish of her, but the more he wanted the eggs, the less she wanted him to have them. Spinning away from him, Piper moved around the room until the island was between them again. “You can’t have my eggs,” she warned him.
“They’re my eggs, woman. I paid for them. Now hand them over.” He dodged left and she went right.
“Sorry, can’t do that.” She went left as he went right, but this time he faked and she squealed as came around the counter after her. In a flat out sprint, Piper hugged the eggs to her chest as she circled the counter, slipping in her stocking feet. Tate’s powerful legs and bare feet gave him the advantage, and within seconds he caught her.
“Gotcha!” Piper struggled in his arms the best she could without dropping everything, but it was futile. Tate had won. “I love that sound. You should do it more often.”
Piper froze at his words. It was only then that she realized she had been laughing. It startled the hell out of her and she ducked her head, frowning. Tate Larson inspired anger, irritation, lust, even. Not fun. Never fun. She had never scowled so much in her life before she started working for him. This was certainly unexpected.
Slowly, Tate’s arms loosened and the moment she was free, Piper stepped away from him. She finished transferring the eggs to the container, gently this time, and placed them in the fridge. Silently, Tate began emptying bags and handing her items to put away. They worked quietly and efficiently, getting the work finished in record time.
“I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Tate waved her off.
“What do you mean, don’t worry about it?” Piper stood there holding the empty pot in one hand and a bag of fresh grounds in the other. “Half an hour ago you were yelling at me because you ran out. Now you don’t want any?”
“First of all,” Tate said, leaning inside the refrigerator. Piper tried and failed not to appreciate the view. “I didn’t yell. Second, I reserve the right to change my mind.” He selected the jug of orange juice and began pouring a glass.
“To be clear, you were yelling,” Piper informed him. She just couldn’t resist poking the beast.
Tate stepped closer, setting his glass on the counter. Unsure what he was up to, Piper held her ground. She nearly sighed when he lifted his hand to brush the back of his knuckles across her cheek. “Did I scare you?”
For a moment, Piper got lost in the warmth of his eyes. At his touch, her body flamed, acutely aware of his potent masculinity. It was the second time that day he had managed to tilt her world on its axis. “I should get home. It’s late.” She purposely ignored his question and stepped back, putting much needed distance between them. Her shaking legs barely made it to the front door and she was just slipping her purse over her shoulder when Tate’s smooth voice stopped her.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“What question was that?”
He spun her around and her eyes widened as he backed her up against the door. He leaned forward and, bracing his hands on either side of her head, hovered over her. “Did I scare you?” His face was so close; she felt the whisper of his lips against hers as he spoke.
“You don’t scare me,” she said breathlessly. Piper was shocked at the kind of responses this man could evoke from her, how readily her body responded to him. She shouldn’t have been responding to him at all. He made her so angry, the only thing she should be feeling for him was hatred and resentment, but every time he looked at her a certain way or spoke her name in a certain tone, her traitorous body melted for him. It was humiliating.