Be Mine Page 3

  How the hell could that happen?

  Luke scowled. The only thing he could think of was that she was different...special. Yes, that was the word. How he knew that, he didn't have a bloody clue. Wanting someone he couldn't have was such a bitch. He needed to get her out of his system. Cilla's proposal earlier became more attractive by the minute, but his cock wasn't having any of it. It softened the minute he thought of his current weekender. Damn his package for having a mind of its own!

  "Move, please."

  Her voice took him from his musings. A voice he wanted to hear mewl softly if he had the opportunity to have sex with her. "Sorry?"

  "I need to get home, and I wouldn't want to be accused of a hit and run."

  Reluctantly, Luke stepped back. He watched her throw her purse into the passenger seat before removing her coat. As she shrugged the thick material off her shoulders, her dark silk blouse briefly cupped her breasts. Lust slammed through him. His hands itched to caress those peaks, remembering the moment he brushed against her nipple as he went out of the bar's doors. She had been aware of what had happened. He saw it in her eyes before he banked the desire that shone like a beacon in his own. When he brushed against her nipple, his cock stirred, straining against the zipper of his trousers. He wanted to skim his hands down her waist, her hips. To cup her ass and squeeze them as he let her hips cradle his arousal. He swallowed the groan that escaped his lips when she entered the car. She was halfway inside, with her right leg still on the pavement. Her skirt eased up a bit to show more of her sheer black stocking encased leg. Luke wondered how it would have felt for both her legs to wrap around his waist as he thrust hard and fast into her. Then suddenly she lifted her leg into the car before closing the door, ending the mental striptease.

  This woman was going to be the death of him!

  She switched on the engine and her window silently slid down. She smiled softly. To Luke, her smile could have lit up the entire street.

  "Thanks for your help. It was kind of you."

  And then she was gone.

  Luke remained by the side of the road a long time after, his funk forgotten, but he was sure of one thing.

  He had fallen for a married woman.

  Hard.

  * * *

  One thing Gracie didn't like was being late for a meeting. After the mishap the night before, spending the much needed time with Flynn and reading to him so that he could go to sleep only gave her a couple of hours to make heads or tails of the reports she left spread out on the dining table. While she worked, Theresa stayed instead of going to her own house which was just a few blocks away. She plied Gracie with coffee while she read or dozed off on the sofa. Gracie told her mother to stay in the spare room, but her mother refused, staying on the sofa to watch telly until she made herself comfortable and fell asleep. By four in the morning, Gracie was done and whatever time she had left to catch a few moments of sleep was spent thinking of the stranger the night before and the moment that she felt he was going to kiss her.

  And she stopped it.

  She groaned at the thought of all the what ifs. She deliberately didn't get his name to easily forget him. Like that would stop her mind churning. Even without a name he haunted her thoughts if only for a while before his face tapered off like the mist. Moral of the past night—parking close to a bar was hazardous to a person’s libido.

  Now as she waited in the reception area of Bryce Engineering LLP, she needed to get a grip and concentrate on the meeting. She couldn't make her presentation if she kept on thinking about the sexy stranger now, could she? She'd be all hot and bothered and maybe sound like Marilyn Monroe. That would be nice, though the wrong place to do so.

  She twisted to face the floor-to-ceiling glass windows behind her, her hair gently falling around her shoulders. She righted herself and realised that someone stood in front of her. Someone male, his scent making her inhale sharply. Lime. Cool lime. Fresh. Crisp. Sexy. Her eyes travelled the length of the denim clad thighs, to the fit torso encased in a button down shirt and fall coat, all the way up to the quirking mouth and the sexy but amused eyes.

  Oh…my…God.

  And she thought she'd never see him again, but he was here. The sexy stranger who caressed her face without even touching her and made her heart flutter. There was no doubt in her mind that he was a man other women would fight to be his arm candy, with his cleanly cut wavy hair, and the dark brows that slashed over those amazing blue orbs that had the ability to look deep into her soul and see her secrets. The daylight allowed her to appreciate him more, to assess his chiselled face, aquiline nose, and those full firm lips that were trying to hide a smile as his eyes perused her.

  "Like what you see?"

  Colour flooded Gracie's cheeks, but she arched a brow. "Like what you see?"

  "Touché.” His eyes sparkled with laughter. “Hi."

  Gracie's mouth was suddenly dry. "Hi." She cleared the hoarseness from her voice. "Hi."

  "What are you doing here?" he asked with a smile, a dimple forming on his right cheek.

  She took a deep breath to gather her wits about her and calm her heart. "I'm here to speak to Luke Bryce."

  He raised a brow. "Really? Why? Are you going to tell on me?"

  "What?" Her eyes widened. "No! Why would I tell on you? You didn’t do anything wrong. Do you work here?" Crap, her mouth was like a no brake train.

  He nodded, his eyes twinkling.

  Gracie was seriously changing her view about him. Sexy yes. Arrogant, absolutely!

  "Then why are you here?"

  Gracie's forehead briefly puckered. "Uh...that's between Mr. Bryce and me."

  He looked taken aback before his eyes crinkled. "You're right. It's none of my business. I didn't mean to pry." He sat down beside her. Gracie not only felt how the sofa depressed under his weight, but also felt the body heat through his clothes that made her want to slide closer.

  "Aren't you supposed to get to work? That might be a reason to tell your boss."

  "It's okay. We operate on flexi-time." He shrugged.

  "Your boss must really be laid back to allow his employees to take their sweet time getting work done," she quipped.

  "Yeah, he is," he murmured. "Did you get home all right?"

  "Yes, I did. Thanks for asking." Gracie looked at the receptionist, who continued to work on her computer before looking at her watch.

  Her sexy stranger looked at the receptionist as well.

  "Is there anything wrong?"

  "My meeting should have started five minutes ago and the receptionist doesn't seem bothered that he's late."

  "Oh, he's here. Probably got caught up with something important."

  "I hope he finishes up soon." Gracie sighed. "I need to get back to the office and deal with the other accounts." And I want to get home and get more sleep. Morning fatigue wasn’t something she cared for.

  "I see," he said before looking down at his hands, then giving her a quick smile. "Let me find out, and I'll see what I can do."

  "Thanks," she said, a smile tugging at her mouth. "Seems like you have a habit of saving women in distress."

  "Only you." He looked at her a minute longer, an emotion flitting through his gaze before it was banked.

  Gracie's cheeks warmed and butterflies suddenly decided to tiptoe through the tulips inside her belly. Was her handsome stranger flirting with her?

  Where the hell did the possessive phrase 'my handsome stranger' come from?

  When he left, that side of her body near to where he sat immediately felt bereft. She swallowed hard as she looked at the way his denims fit him perfectly. Her heart raced at the thought of squeezing those ass cheeks. And the body. In her three-inch heels, the top of her head had merely reached his shoulders. He was broad shouldered, with narrow hips and thighs that spoke of the power underneath. He looked as though he worked out a lot, but the handshake he gave her the night before spoke of working hands. As though he wasn't afraid of manual labour. Gracie's body
started to wake, her blood sluggish from the lack of attention, perking up as though sensing another body's blood waking it from its stupor. It was in the way her breast seemed to swell inside her bra and the sudden tingle trickling down her spine to tease the apex of her thighs. It was something she hadn't felt in a very long time. Her imagination started to run rampant. What else would she find underneath those clothes? How would it feel to touch his skin before he hovered over her as they...

  Crap! This is so not happening! Her face heated up at her imagination that swirled around like a cocktail being twirled by a finger.

  Get a grip! Try as she might, Gracie couldn't stop her body's upheaval. The closer he got, the more her core clenched in the most delicious of ways. She closed her eyes just for a second. She needed to look indifferent, that she didn't care, that this stranger wreaking havoc to her senses wasn’t really affecting her. She pursed her lips as she inhaled deeply. She wanted to badly fan herself as his words sensually made their way through her bloodstream. She sat up straight when he returned. Heartbeat still racing, she stood up so fast that she almost lost her balance at the slight giddiness.

  "Find out anything?" Gracie was only too glad that her voice didn't sound breathless.

  "Yes, I did," he said. "I've told the receptionist that I'll take you to him. He's waiting for you."

  Her eyes widened. Why wasn't she told? A crease formed on her forehead.

  "No harm done." He winked.

  Gracie felt heat rising up her cheeks again. This guy was going to think that she was having a rosacea flare up! As she walked behind her sexy stranger, she looked at the receptionist, who smiled at her genuinely before looking at the man walking ahead of her. Alarm bells started ringing inside Gracie's head, and she didn't know why.

  He walked farther down the corridor and opened the door to the CEO's office. Gracie entered and waited for the door to close. The office was very utilitarian. It didn't have the opulent trappings of panelled walls with a bar filled with the best liquor or an expensive oil painting as the room's focal point. There was a desk to one side of the room where two wing back chairs faced it. On the desk were several files neatly stacked to one side and several open blueprints set on the other. The wall behind the desk was a bank of floor-to-ceiling windows that gave her a view of the other buildings that dotted Manchester's business district in Spinning Fields. A filing cabinet sat on one corner and beside it was a leather couch with a low coffee table.

  No one was inside.

  Gracie turned around. Her sexy stranger had his arms crossed as he leaned on the door. Her body heated at the way he looked at her as though he was mentally undressing her. Her breasts suddenly felt heavy, aching to be held by those firm hands and stroked by those long tapered fingers. Her core tightened at the mental images her mind created, and she almost closed her eyes when she felt her sex's muscles twitch.

  She sucked in her breath before she frowned, perplexed.

  "I thought you said that he was waiting for me. It doesn't look like he's finished."

  "I said that he was caught up with something important. I didn't say that he was finished."

  She sighed, slightly irritated. "Look, if your boss isn't finished with what he's doing, maybe we should reschedule."

  She had never seen him. All of her emails were sent to a Terrence Bartholomew, so when Matt told her that she was meeting with the Luke Bryce and Terrence, she didn't really give it any thought. Maybe he was a hands one sort of CEO, but being late for a meeting that he himself had arranged was borderline unprofessional. Nevertheless, she'd keep her thoughts to herself. This was one account that Matt didn't want to lose.

  "Who is he anyway?" Gracie asked the first time Matt gave her the Bryce Engineering account.

  "Luke Bryce? A rich playboy, but he works harder so that he can party more." Matt grinned. "People call him a maverick. He's tough but fair," Matt said. "A lot of the big boys don't like him because he always gets what he wants within the rules."

  "And that's a bad thing?"

  "No. It's a good thing. The shysters in the industry think it's bad, though." Matt winked.

  Of all the unprofessional clients to have the misfortune of working with, she didn't need this at the moment. Had she known this was going to happen, she wouldn't have hurried to get things done for this presentation. Damn it, who was she kidding? She wouldn't be able to keep still unless she had prepared everything.

  He walked towards the desk and sat down.

  Gracie's eyes widened. "What do you think you're doing?"

  His stare was wreaking havoc with her panties' absorption element.

  "Please have a seat, Mrs. Sinclair."

  She stared at him blankly before realization struck. Her throat thickened in mortification, blood draining from her face before rushing up again.

  "You're Luke Bryce," she said softly.

  "I'm afraid so."

  Chapter Four

  Disappointment replaced the delicious heat coursing through Gracie’s bloodstream. Not even the rueful grin he gave her to soften the blow diffused the sinking feeling in her gut. The desire fuelled by her wild imagination plummeted so fast it wouldn't have surprised her if she looked down and saw it on the floor, flat as a pancake. She almost gave in to the CEO of Bryce Engineering LLP last night, and she wouldn't have been the wiser. Why didn't he say so? Was he playing with her? Was he getting his kicks keeping his identity a secret? The more she remembered her conversation with Matt, the more her face relaxed, her frown giving way to passivity. To nothingness.

  Because in front of her was the playboy Luke Bryce.

  Did you give him a chance to introduce himself?

  Gracie slightly shook her head, responding to the taunting of her brain. She knew that it was unfair to think of Luke that way. She wasn't exactly honest about her marital status last night either, was she? She stopped the scowl that nearly formed on her forehead as she battled to regain her composure. And yet, she couldn't stop thinking that he was no different from his girlfriend. Neither was he different from Jonathan, who kept the biggest secret that made her marriage farcical. At the end of the day, she had no right to assume things about the man who sat in front of her and who made her bring forth needs that she had buried a long time ago. Who was she to expect honesty from him? It wasn't as though they had things going on simply because of the strong attraction she felt. Luke Bryce wasn't answerable to her. Her mind taunted. She didn't ask, he didn't tell. So why did this offend her? She blew out a breath to calm her nerves. She was only thirty-eight, and she already sounded like an old biddy.

  Cheeks burning with humiliation, Gracie still resolved to be professional enough to continue with the presentation. She looked at him, her eyes not betraying the turmoil inside her.

  "Well then, thank you for seeing me, Mr. Bryce. I have the reports you needed, which reflect the figures for your projects," she started before sitting down on the chair facing him. "I made copies of the report. Isn't Mr. Bartholomew joining us?"

  Gracie saw the confusion that marred Luke's features before it disappeared. Let him think what he wants to think. She was fuming inside. How many times will you allow yourself to be taken for a fool?

  Luke's visage became stoic. His nod perfunctory.

  "He will. You met him last night as well." Luke sat forward on his seat as he took the report, which Gracie placed on his desk. He didn't peruse the file but continued to look at her instead. "We'll wait for him."

  "As you wish," she said, giving him a smile she used with clients before she opened her copy of the report to mentally prepare for the presentation. She refused to be rattled. Refused to be affected by the way he was staring at her. Now. She wanted to swear and rant not at Luke, but at herself. Despite her chagrin, she could feel heat suffuse her cheeks, her heart beat against her ribcage, and a frisson of slow languid excitement caressing her spine. She was torn with both hating and needing the way Luke Bryce was making her feel.

  Just then, the door opened
. Gracie turned to see Luke's companion from the night before enter, who blinked in surprise when he saw her.

  "Mrs. Sinclair?"

  Gracie stood up and gave him a tight smile before shaking his hand. "Gracie Sinclair. How do you do?"

  "Terrence Bartholomew."

  Terrence Bartholomew was as muscled and handsome as Luke Bryce, but he had ginger hair and green eyes. His gaze assessed her, not maliciously, but with curiosity and interest.

  "Forgive me, Mrs. Sinclair," he started.

  "Gracie, please." She smiled at him. At least this man didn't keep his identity secret only to humiliate her later.

  "Gracie." He grinned. "Forgive me. I was expecting someone else."

  "Someone decrepit with glasses stuck to the bridge of her nose looking as though she spends most of her time cooking and watching soaps," she stated with wry humour.

  Terrence almost became as red as his hair as he massaged his nape. He chuckled, at a loss as to what to say.

  Gracie smiled, liking the man in front of her. "It happens." She shrugged.

  "Can we get back to the report, Mrs. Sinclair?" Luke's sharp voice slashed through their exchange. Even Terrence looked startled before frowning.