Page 5
He couldn’t help the half-grin that lifted his lips. “Probably. Or she went to Best Buy and planted one of those recording devices instead.”
“Well, fuckety fuck. I’d better schedule another sweep of our offices just in case.”
She uttered the curse with such a brisk, no-nonsense air, he couldn’t help bursting out in laughter. He caught the gleam of amusement in her eyes before her gaze seemed to change, stuck like a piece of gum on the bottom of a shoe, stubborn and clingy and refusing to budge.
She was staring at his bare chest.
His breath stilled. The air seemed to singe with heat and grow heavy between them. A sudden surge of awareness that had never been there before filled the space—or at least, one that had never been recognized. Her pale cheeks turned pink, and her lips parted slightly as if it were hard for her to draw in a breath. For endless seconds, he stood locked to the floor, afraid to move away from the shimmering heat in her gaze as it touched on his nakedness. Her perusal swept over his shoulders, moved down to his pecs, and settled at the line above his belt buckle. He felt himself grow hard from the visual caress and clenched his teeth as he struggled for control.
But, God, he wanted her to look up. Right at him. Deep into his eyes so he could finally see if there was something there that she was desperately fighting, too. Needed to know he wasn’t alone in this sudden, crazed need for her.
She turned back around. Her voice never faltered. “Fifteen minutes left. By the way, the Make-A-Wish foundation fundraiser is this Friday.”
He pushed away the disappointment that crashed through him at her obvious disinterest. He was nuts. She didn’t feel anything toward him except a mild interest in his physique, a flickering appreciation from a female toward a male who took care of his body and stayed fit. Nothing more. Nothing less. He shrugged on his shirt and quickly buttoned it up. “You know I can’t go. I have to show up and do my part for the damn political fundraiser for Devons.”
“Devons sorely lacks political appeal,” she recited primly.
“Devons is an idiot, and we all know it. But for now, he’s my idiot, and better that than our combatant.” He slid on his jacket and straightened his tie. “I’m forced to go and play nice for my party. Anyway, you said you’d go in my place to represent the office.”
“And I will, but the Hope for Heroes organization is part of the fundraiser, dedicated to pediatric cancer research. Cameron’s making an appearance. He’s out of the hospital.”
He stilled. Cameron was a six-year-old boy fighting leukemia who had always wanted to be a firefighter. Jonathan had met him in the hospital with the fire chief and worked with the foundation to give the boy a full day at the local firehouse, riding on the truck and joining the guys for a big homemade dinner the chief had cooked. The boy’s fierce strength and smile, along with his mop of curly red hair, had charmed Jonathan from the first. He began visiting Cameron regularly, and when he started to hear about the low funding for childhood cancer compared to other causes, he got more involved. “How’s he doing?”
One of Alyssa’s rare smiles curved her lips. His chest tightened with the beauty of it. “Much better. He’ll be saying a few words, though. I figured you should know in case you decide to change plans. Ten minutes left.”
He groaned, torn. “I’ll get my ass handed to me if I don’t show, Alyssa. Especially now that I’m running for governor.”
She lifted a brow. “I know. I’m not trying to talk you out of anything. Just giving you the full itinerary of information for you to make a final decision.”
He glared. Re-dressed, he strode to his desk and skimmed through the newest agendas, ignoring the furiously blinking phone lines, his fat inbox, and the endless tasks he had to get through before he could call it a day. “There’s no other decision to make. I can’t back out on Devons. It’ll look bad.”
“Of course, I understand completely.”
“I know you hate going to these things alone, but I need you to cover for me.”
She nodded. “Done. One minute. Oh, and I’m not going alone.”
He clenched his fingers around the file and stared at her. “What?”
She pivoted on her sensible heel and headed to the door. He heard her talk into the earpiece permanently attached to her ear. “They’re waiting in the conference room.”
“Alyssa.”
Did he shout, or was his tone ridiculously high? It’s just she never brought dates to these functions, not once since he’d known her. She’d told him over and over that work functions were for work, not pleasure. Had a man finally changed her mind?
Someone who wasn’t him?
“Yes, Mr. Mayor?”
He practically gripped the edge of the desk in his need not to pounce across the room and begin flinging personal, inappropriate questions at her. “Do I know him? I mean, is he from the office, helping you out?”
She hesitated. He felt like a damn puppy, begging to know that she wasn’t really attached. And for what? So he could declare his intentions to be the man she needed? The man to fuck her and protect her and care for her in the way he’d been fantasizing about?
If he hadn’t been so focused on every nuance of her expression, he would have missed the regret flickering across her profile—the tightness of her lip, the determined set of her shoulders. Finally, she spoke, her voice a tad huskier than normal. “No. I have a date. But don’t worry, I won’t let it affect the job. Time’s up.”
She left.
four
