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  “Not bad for a kid who got married shortly after turning twenty-five, eh?”

  Sarah remained unresponsive.

  “Look, I don’t regret my marriage, even if it didn’t end well.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there’s no point. It’s over. It was not… an amicable split. Part of the reason I fought to keep it out of the press.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you?”

  “What can I say? I was curious if everything you said about being unattached was true. For all I knew, you were saying that to get me to sleep with you again.”

  “I’d hardly call what we did sleeping together.”

  “It’s a euphemism.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “Look.” This really wasn’t going his way, was it? Sarah would have smiled in self-satisfaction if it wouldn’t piss him off more. “It’s over. In the past. Finished. I have never lied to you. You, on the other hand, have deceived me from the start.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Lucas gestured to her as if she wore a disguise. Again. “Do I really have to say it?”

  Sarah sighed. “I do not agree that I deceived you. I certainly did not intend to deceive you. But if you feel as if I did, and that bothers you… I’m sorry. Like I said, I was under the presumption I would never see you again.”

  “Well, you have. And I would like an explanation.”

  “An explanation of what?”

  Again, he gestured to her.

  “For fuck’s sake.”

  “That’s what I’ve been saying a lot lately.”

  Was this guy for real? Why did he care so much? Why? So what if he fucked her? What did it have to do with anything? They clearly weren’t ashamed of it. Sarah had made it clear she was not interested in dating, let alone a relationship. So what if it was kinda embarrassing that she had dressed up in a persona and seduced him? Honest mistake. They should be adults about this and move on before they really did embarrass themselves.

  “Why did you do that?” Lucas asked. “Why did you go about things that way?”

  “I told you,” Sarah was quick to growl back at him, “I had no idea who you were, let alone that you would be working in the same office as me. If I had, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “I’m serious. You want to know what I was doing? You’re a brilliant Princeton graduate, Mr. Blackbourne. You tell me what I was doing.”

  “I’m no psychologist.”

  “And?”

  He leaned forward, the ice in his eyes cutting Sarah deep – not that she would let it show. “And I really don’t get you.”

  “There’s nothing to get, Mr. Blackbourne. I have my personal life, like you have yours. Our personal lives happened to cross a week ago. We’re both professionals, aren’t we? Can’t you handle working with a woman you recently slept with?”

  “I can. I’ve done it before.” That was candid. “I’m no angel, like you, Sarah.”

  “So clever, Mr. Blackbourne.”

  “I can work quite well alongside women I’ve known intimately and keep it professional. Including women who begged me for my cum.”

  Sarah’s diamond-built shield faltered.

  “Yeah. I remember.” Great. She had let him get smug. “But you know who I can’t work professionally with, Ms. Clayborn?”

  She did not respond.

  “Women who get in my head. You have, Sarah. You’ve taken up residence in my brain ever since we first met in that club. It got ten times worse once I realized who you were.”

  The waiter entered with Sarah’s cobb salad and a cup of the soup of the day. Broccoli and cheddar. She had no appetite for either.

  “I’m not asking you to be my girlfriend. I’m asking that you let me get to know you.”

  “Carnally, I’m sure.”

  “Oh, Ms. Clayborn, we’re already there. Or have you conveniently forgotten how you sucked my cock? Because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget.”

  This wasn’t any definition of fun any longer. Not that Sarah was having fun before, of course, but now she felt like a chimp trapped in a cage, going crazy, ready to throw some serious shit.

  “I haven’t forgotten.”

  “Give me one good reason you won’t date me.” Lucas rethought that. “That has nothing to do with work.”

  “All right. You want a reason? Because I’m not interested in dating anyone. I’m not at a point in my life where I can realistically date someone, even casually. I’m sorry you got caught up in me letting off some steam, Mr. Blackbourne. You’ve seen me at my job. It’s incredibly stressful. Mr. Monroe makes sure I get very little rest when I’m on the clock.”

  He remained silent.

  “I don’t want to date you. I don’t want to date anyone. This also leaves out casual sex between us. I would not feel comfortable with that. I don’t regret our circumstances meeting, Mr. Blackbourne, but I will not pursue something that I feel is detrimental to my mental health. I should hope you would respect that.”

  He sat up. “I do. I wanted an explanation, that’s all.”

  “You’re not used to being told no. You’re the kind of person who needs to understand why someone told them no.”

  “Is that so wrong?”

  “No, but it’s bloody annoying.”

  Lucas’s mouth twitched. At first, Sarah thought it was a sneer, but when he turned laughter into a fake cough against the back of her hand? What the hell? He thinks that’s funny?

  “Didn’t know you were British, Ms. Clayborn.”

  “Half-British,” she said, maintaining her straight face. “Mother’s side.”

  “See? Learning more about you already.”

  Sarah stood up, leaving her food untouched. “Sorry to make you buy my lunch when I don’t intend to stick around. I must be going.”

  He stood up as well. “Wait.”

  She wasn’t going to wait. What was the point in waiting? This man was going to stall her until she fell for him. Sarah had seen it dozens of times under the employment of Damon Monroe. She certainly did not intend to become a woman who fell for those rich playboy tactics.

  “I really must be going.”

  Sarah turned, one step toward the door.

  “Sarah.”

  He didn’t quite bark her name, but the command was there. I’m not your dog, Mr. Blackbourne. Yet she stopped.

  Why?

  Her whole body shivered. Quivered. From head to toe her skin was brushed with the paint of arousal, as if it were last Saturday night and she saw this man through nothing but a sexual lens. God, did I want him. That lust for him was forced underground over the past week. The fact he was still interested in her enough to show up on her doorstep to ask her out hadn’t swayed her, but the lust was still there.

  “I don’t know what happened to you, but I’m sorry.”

  She turned, the full force of her strength propelling her toward Lucas Blackbourne. “Excuse me?”

  Her nose almost touched his. Breath as hot as the ire raging within her blasted against his face. Still, Lucas remained unfazed. “I have nothing else to say, Ms. Clayborne. I’m sorry. For everything.”

  How dare he.

  All her professionalism went out the window. Sarah smacked that man’s cheek as if some outraged woman somewhere paid her to do it. Yeah. Me.

  His face only slightly turned away from the impact.

  “Don’t you dare feel sorry for me. About anything.”

  Her trauma and whatever way she dealt with it was not for Lucas to comment on. Let alone to know about! Even Nigel barely understood the extent to which his sister pushed herself into unhealthy scenarios. If anyone thinks it started with sex, they’re naïve. More like drink. Lots and lots of drink. It was all she practically did while at her mom’s house the month after the miscarriage. Jack Daniel was practically her boyfriend for that whole month.

  After Russell’s role came to light? She ha
d never been so shitfaced since a frat party in college made her wake up in a stranger’s house – and the stranger had no idea how she got there.

  “I have never intended to anger you or make you feel uncomfortable, Sarah.” So why did he continue to lord over her? “But I clearly have done so. My apologies. I won’t bother you again, unless it’s strictly for work.”

  “Please do so.”

  “Don’t worry about lunch. I’ll have it sent to the office so you can eat it there, away from me.”

  “Away from me.”

  Something sounded so final in his voice. This was it. He finally got the clue. Sarah wanted nothing to do with him or his unfounded pity. They had nothing. No relationship. No grounds for one. They had hot sex on a whim one night, before they knew who the other was and how it would affect their lives one day. Life was one crazy coincidence after another. That’s all there was to it.

  So why did the thought of this song and dance ending suddenly make Sarah feel… less?

  It was that damn sexual tension hanging between them. The tension she tried to deny when he called it out the day before.

  Oh, no. It was real. Sarah wasn’t dreaming about his cock because he was a convenient stand-in for a sex dream. She wanted him. It simply wasn’t a good idea to have him.

  Sarah and good ideas? They didn’t get along.

  Who kissed who first? Oh, who the bloody hell cared?

  It certainly was not as one-sided as it had been the night before. Last night, Sarah had been a passive participant in that kiss. Now? Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her tongue searching for his as desperately as his wandered her mouth for hers. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me! Was that a command, or a desperate plea? Sarah was in trouble, regardless. No, no, no, this is bad, this is wrong. That was the rational side of her. The irrational, sex-starved side? Wanted her back on the table and this man between her legs.

  “You’re killing me,” he muttered between kisses. Sarah lost her damn mind and unzipped his trousers. Without thinking about it, her hand slipped inside his boxer-briefs and grabbed his hardening cock. “You’re killing me.”

  Sarah’s back didn’t end up on the table, but it found the nearest wall within five seconds.

  “Don’t play games you don’t intend to finish.” His voice rumbled through her, like his cock continued to swell in his hand. “I swear to God, Sarah. If I don’t fuck you again…”

  “Mr. Blackbourne.” Where had that husky breath come from? “You’ve never fucked Sarah before.”

  “My place or hers? Or does she want me taking her here in a damned restaurant?”

  Precum dripped down her palm. Sarah closed her eyes and sighed, imagining this man banging her against a restaurant wall while other well-to-do people dined outside, talking of private schooling, the latest fashions off the runway, and what to do about mistresses who gabbed too much.

  “Right here.”

  In a perfect world, Sarah would have received her cake on a platter and wolfed it down in the same instance. Wham. Bam. Orgasm. This man’s thick cock back inside her, getting to work at getting them both off. Give it to me for real this time. She didn’t want it on her chest. Didn’t want it on her face. Not on her ass and not down her throat.

  But her own zipper was barely down and both of their buttons undone when Lucas cursed against her throat and pulled his cock away from her.

  “I don’t. Have. A. Condom.”

  Each beat pounded against Sarah the way this man should have been pounding her. “So?” she hissed back at him. Didn’t stop you last time!

  “So unless you’ve got one, we need to raincheck.”

  Was he fucking serious?”

  Apparently.

  Sarah was left against the wall, clothes disheveled, thighs wet, and brain in overdrive. Lucas shoved his hard cock back into his trousers with a twisted sneer on his face. Really! Not even gonna get a blowjob, was he? Last Sarah checked, she gave real humdingers.

  “For all you know,” she spat, “that was your only chance.”

  Lucas said nothing as he zipped up. “I’ve got my reasons.” Before Sarah had the chance to spout off at him, he kissed her again, slowly, allowing his tongue to take its time tangling with hers. His hand beneath her chin was a nice added touch. “Thanks for the thrill, though.”

  His wan smile and the wink that followed kept Sarah from getting angrier. “Bastard,” she whispered, looking away. “You wanna talk about embarrassing? I just now embarrassed myself.”

  “I’m the one who has an erection to deal with.”

  “Would’ve taken care of that, you know. I don’t have carpal tunnel yet.”

  “I don’t want anything but the real deal. I won’t be able to stop myself.” Lucas sat on the edge of his chair, pulled out his wallet, and withdrew a business card from that. “Anything else you offer isn’t good enough. Yet.”

  Scoffing, Sarah pushed herself off the wall and hurried to put her blouse and trousers back in order. “I get it. You’re punishing me for teasing you. Fine.”

  “I’m not punishing you for anything. I told you, I have my reasons.”

  “Hope I get some answers at some point.”

  “Here.” Lucas handed her his card after writing something on a white corner. “It’s my personal number. For the love of God, call me after work so we can arrange something.”

  Sarah snapped the card out of his hand and shoved it in her inside jacket pocket. “I need to go. Seriously.”

  “Then go. Before I lose all self-control and do something we both may regret.”

  Sarah spared him one last look of unbridled longing before grabbing her purse and getting the hell out. One last wall came down inside her. The compartments were blending together, and soon the stoic and put-together Sarah Clayborn would no longer know what the hell she was doing. Who gave Angel the right to bleed into her everyday life like that?

  Chapter 9

  “I’m sorry, Sarah, but I have the same opinion as last time.” The gynecologist sat down across from Sarah with a thick stack of papers in her hand. “You’re free to look for a second opinion. In fact, I encourage it. That said, we should discuss some of the other things you’ve been telling me about your sexual health.”

  Sarah stared blankly before her, the white office blending together in one giant ivory hue. The blond gyno attempted to get her attention, but all Sarah heard was “You can’t get pregnant. That was taken away from you too.” That’s all she heard from her gynecologist ever since her miscarriage. Because infertility made her feel so much better about what happened to her.

  The doctor went over some of the answers Sarah gave the nurse when she first came in. “Are you engaging in unprotected sex?” “Do you engage in anal sex?” “How many partners have you had in the past year?” “When was your last HIV test?” The only thing the doctor approved of was how often Sarah got tested. Both kinds of tests – the STD tests, and the pregnancy ones. I remember when I got my first positive result on a pregnancy test… Her period had been a week late. Back then, Sarah approached her pregnancy news with pure pragmatism. I was pregnant. I had decisions to make. That first decision she made was to tell the father, the worst decision she could have made.

  “Are you sure?” Sarah said at the end of her consultation. “About the pregnancy thing?”

  The doctor slowly nodded. “There is still a lot of evidence of the past trauma you have described. I’m not saying you absolutely could not get pregnant, per se, but I would be very concerned about your ability to carry to term. There are some options we can discuss.”

  Sarah left with another hole in her heart. Who was to say she wanted children? That wasn’t the point. The terrible point was that the choice was ripped from her, doused in kerosene, and lit up in flames. Ah, like Russell’s ex-wife…

  Sarah stopped on the sidewalk on her way back to work. She had arranged to have an hour off from work so she could go in for a regular check-up. Now she might be late because she was too fucked up
from the same news as usual.

  And the fact she had blown Lucas off after promising to call him last night. What did Sarah do instead? Take out her frustrations with a healthy usage of sex toys and fantasies that included no one but Lucas giving her exactly what she desired.

  Life was bullshit.

  I didn’t call him because it’s wrong. Wrong to blend her professional and personal lives. Wrong to continue sleeping with a man she met under such unusual circumstances. Wrong to sleep with any man she had a personal connection to.

  Wrong, wrong, wrong.

  She made it to work by ten, as promised. The office was already well underway with its routines. Alisha was gone, taking care of the meeting Mr. Monroe was in. As for Sarah, she was to report to the missus as soon as she got in.

  The last person Sarah wanted to see. Perhaps more so than Lucas.

  Alice Monroe was not her enemy, nor was she an undesirable person in Sarah’s life. But she had something that Sarah would never have – no, not the baby, although that tied into it. She has the choice. She gets to have that baby. She gets to have her lover’s child. A Monroe child.

  Sarah had to take a deep breath before going in. Alice looked up from her desk with a smile and a brief inquiry regarding Sarah’s well-being. Sarah ignored that and went straight into taking dictation notes.

  When she was finished, she walked out and saw Lucas hovering around her desk.

  “Mr. Blackbourne,” she greeted, sinking down into her chair and acting as if he were a nuisance. “Can I help you?”

  “I can almost believe it.” He crossed his arms. “Giving me this hot and cold bullshit.”

  “Please, not here.”

  “Fine. I know where to take it.” Lucas went into his office, closing his door behind him.

  Sarah’s personal phone buzzed in her pocket.

  What the…

  She pulled her phone out to find a text from an unknown number. Please. Like she didn’t know who it was from. If Lucas could find out where she lived, then he sure as hell could find her personal phone number.

  “Are you hot for me right now? Or cold?”