Suddenly the space seemed too confined, too hot, and regrets piled on her shoulders heavier than bricks. “But I can see I came at a bad time.” Oh, man, now she was repeating herself. “I should just—”
“No, no.” He reached for her, but didn’t connect. “Let’s take this somewhere more…quiet,” Linc said. “Have you eaten?”
What was with people trying to feed her? Molly’s stomach still had a rebellious streak going strong, made worse by the conversation and her nerves, but she shook her head, if only to escape the clear curiosity running through the other people in the offices around them. And find a way to get out of here. “No, I haven’t.”
Linc closed the distance between them and put a hand against her back—a light touch, nothing more than a guiding glance, but it set off a firestorm of memories in her. Of being with him in that bar, of the first time he’d touched her—
How they’d danced around, touching, for a half-hour that night, hands and fingers coming close, then drifting away, each of them wanting to make contact, neither daring to be the first, and then she had reached for her drink at the same time he had, and their fingers had collided. An instant electric explosion ignited in Molly, more powerful than any she had ever felt. She’d been a goner from that moment on, captured in Linc’s spell.
That same electric explosion, albeit slightly muted by the daylight, the other people and the businesslike surroundings, reignited in Molly as Linc guided her into the elevator. They rode down in silence, two among a dozen other people, then stepped out into the lobby and out of the Curtis Systems building. Once they reached the sidewalk his hand dropped away and a whisper of disappointment ran through her.
She shook it off. She wasn’t here to start a relationship with Lincoln Curtis. Under no circumstances did she want that. She had enough on her plate to deal with right now. Besides, she hardly knew the man. She couldn’t base any rational decisions on one night—made after a few drinks and a lot of hormones.
Not to mention, judging by his reaction at her sudden appearance, he wasn’t interested in her anymore. Whatever he’d felt that night had clearly dissipated in the two months since. She’d do what she came here for—work here long enough to get to know him, for the baby’s sake. And find some way of telling him about their child. Then go back to San Diego.
Nothing more.
She wouldn’t make the mistake of entangling herself again with a man who didn’t share her visions of the future. Who would give her less than a hundred percent.
Linc raised a hand, and in an instant a sleek black town car glided to a stop before them. The driver hopped out, came around and opened the door for them. Linc gestured for Molly to enter first, then he slid in behind her, settling on the seat close enough for her to feel the heat of his body, but not close enough to touch.
“Your own driver?” she said. “I’m impressed.” Once again, the differences between the Linc she’d met that night and the real Linc became readily apparent. The man she’d seen in the bar—had any of him been real? Who was the Lincoln Curtis sitting across from her? This stiff upper-lipped, wealthy, powerful CEO, not the average Joe she thought she knew two months ago.
What had he seen in her that night? And why hadn’t he told her the whole truth about his life when they’d met? Perhaps, she thought, he’d met too many people who heard the word millionaire and immediately saw dollar signs instead of Linc.
“Don’t be impressed, really,” he said. “The car and driver are a necessity. A time-saver.”
“Because driving your own car takes so much more time?” she joked.
“Because I can work while Saul drives.” Linc gestured toward a laptop set up on a small desk on the left-hand side of the car, beside a built-in phone and a small television screen.
The Linc in the bar had seemed so
R. C. Farrington, Jason Farrington