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"You're absolutely right," Gracie said, feeling like a schoolgirl being admonished by the head teacher.
She started her spiel.
"You have several projects with different companies and each section of the report shows the balance sheets of each job. I've also included the forecasts for each one should the economy continue its downturn or whether it picks up in the next two years."
"These are best and worst case scenarios," Luke stated more than asked, his forehead furrowed. Terrence also perused his copy of the report, flicking the pages to and fro to look at the different figures.
"Yes," she said. "But if you look at the Belton job, you will see that you're not going to get much income from this."
"That's what I was afraid of," Terrence muttered as he leaned back on his chair. "Luke, we didn't get to finish our discussion last night about this. You said that you sorted this out. What did the manager say?"
Luke rubbed his hand across his forehead. "I told the plant manager that if they continued to keep on changing their specs, we're pulling out. Thought this was a turn-key project. It couldn't be further from the truth."
"The prices of raw materials are going to shoot up any time soon. If we didn't take care of our people the way we do, we'd be filing for bankruptcy in a few years."
"Not going to happen," Luke snapped. "I'm not letting a bloody project bring us down. We're pulling out. Let's cut our losses quick."
"Let me talk to Barry Slater and see what the legal implications of pulling out from the project are going to be," Terrence said, scribbling notes on his copy of the report.
Cold gripped Gracie's chest at the vehemence in Luke's voice, suddenly reminding her of Jonathan. Insidious. Creeping. Paralyzing. She looked down at her report, the figures and words blurring to grey lines. She blinked. Still grey lines. Then she felt it, claustrophobia sweeping slowly like a mist. Her hearing closing like tunnel vision.
Not now.
Gracie concentrated on her breathing. That's it. Inhale. Exhale. In. Out. Don't you dare creep over me, you stupid mist. In. Out.
The sounds returned slowly, like she was breaking towards a swimming pool's surface. Luke and Terrence were talking about other projects, procurement of licenses, applications.
God, never had uninteresting topics been such life savers.
All talk flew over her head as she looked up and watched Luke take control. In the middle of the discussions, the receptionist came in with a tray of tea, coffee, and a plate of Krispy Kreme donuts. Gracie smiled while sipping from her mug as she watched Terrence practically clean the plate of the sugary confections, her momentary episode forgotten.
"Hey, leave some for Gracie," Luke mocked, looking up from his report. Warmth spread across her chest when he said her name. As though her name belonged on his lips to do as he pleased. She blew over her warm tea, having a difficult time keeping her mind on the discussions. Luke was making her so aware of him by his mere presence.
Better him than getting locked in.
"You don't want some?" Terrence arched a brow at her.
Gracie laughed. "You can both have all of it."
Something in Luke's eyes made her heart stutter before he concealed it. Gracie placed her mug down to scribble on her report but her mind was on the strength coming through his deep voice soothing her, the conviction of a man in his element, and the way that same voice made her feel like melting chocolate in the middle of a cold day. She wondered how he would sound like before, during, and after he made love. Would he groan or shout his climax? Would he...her eyes flew to the two men talking, her cheeks tinged with embarrassment, relieved they were intent on their discussion. She blew out a relieved breath. That was close. It was wishful thinking, but heck, she could dream, couldn't she?
It was near noon by the time they finished going through the report.
"Terrence, one last thing, arrange for the jobs' audits." Luke said before he closed his copy of the report and placed it on his desk with a soft plop.
"Right," Terrence murmured as he wrote further on his copy. "Thanks, Gracie." Terrence smiled. "Good job. I don't regret one minute of hiring your firm."
Gracie exhaled, pleased that all her hard work paid off. She had answered each and every question Luke or Terrence fired at her, and they were only too happy to fill in the information gaps she needed.
"I'm sure Matt will be happy to hear that." Her mouth lifted in pleasure as she stood up and tucked her papers into the portfolio. "I should be off." She extended her hand to Terrence. "Goodbye, Mr. Bartholomew."
"Terrence, please."
"Terrence." She smiled. Then she turned to Luke and her heart started racing. "Mr. Bryce."
Luke took her hand and there it was again, that thrill of awareness that made her body tense with need. Gracie pulled her hand out from his right away, not wanting to prolong the contact that was already making her body uncooperative.
"Call me Luke."
"Goodbye," she said instead. She walked to the door, feeling his gaze boring into her back, causing goose bumps to appear on her skin. She prayed that her knees didn't buckle as she walked. She gripped the door handle and walked into the corridor, sighing when she closed the door. More relaxed, she walked towards the reception area of the office and out of the building.
This wasn't going to work. She might be childish in thinking that way, but she just couldn't find it in herself to believe that she was good enough for any man, let alone Luke Bryce. He was way beyond her league. Seriously? Why was she even thinking of him as a prospect?
"Get your mind out of the wishful thinking mode, Gracie," she muttered underneath her breath. She gave the receptionist a brief smile before letting herself out of Bryce Engineering offices. The scars over the wounds she carried were too deep to ever heal. Was she indulging in self-pity? Hardly. She just didn't want to go through having her heart trampled upon and fed to the wolves. Giving in to her attraction to Luke wasn't going to do her any favours. She'd only be pining for someone she couldn't have, imagining the 'what if' scenario that could only dash whatever hopes and dreams that might come out of it. She didn't want someone breaking into the fortress she built around her heart, didn't want people to know how easily she could break. The belief that she could never belong to anyone was attached to her epidermis. Removing it might just kill her.
Because she wasn't perfect.
It wasn't exactly an ideal solution and neither did it bring any excitement in her life. But she'd rather have a boring life than a traumatic one. She'd ask Matt to assign someone else to deal with the accounts of Bryce Engineering LLP. Most of the important work had already been done and all her replacement needed to do would be to keep tabs on the accounts. She couldn't risk bumping into Luke Bryce again, if only for her peace of mind.
Nodding resolutely, Gracie walked towards her car. What she was doing was the most prudent thing to do.
Even though the decision made her feel hollow.
Chapter Five
Terrence looked at his friend. "That was the woman you helped last night."
Luke pressed his lips together, nodding.
"Is she taking Cilla's place?"
"She's not like that." Luke blew out his breath in irritation. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "She's different."
"Yes, she is," Terrence mused. "For one she's older."
Luke would have chuckled at his friend's comment had it been any other woman. For some reason, he found Terrence’s comment debasing.
"So?" He arched his eyebrow before gathering the papers strewn across his desk.
Terrence gave him a baffled look. "So you plan on making her your weekender?"
Luke kept silent.
"This is a first. She's attractive, I'll grant you that, and you'd be all over her by now.” Terrence whistled the longer he looked at his friend. "Bloody hell. Gracie Sinclair really is different for you, isn't she? You'd normally say yes or no quickly when I ask you that question. Here, it's like you're stumped!"
> Luke pressed his lips together to stop his grin when Terrence’s face became comical. His friend's next words, however, made him scowl.
"She's really hit you hard, hasn't she? I noticed that with that sharp tone earlier. And you've not even fucked her. Interesting."
"Stop talking about her as though she were a slut," Luke bit out.
Terrence held up his hands, surprised. "Hey, mate, just saying. You've never been testy when I talk this way."
Luke threw the folder he was holding on the table, causing a small breeze to lift the other loose leaf of papers from the table with a sigh. He flexed his shoulder and neck muscles. Agitation thrummed through him. Frustration bit at his heels. The wayward muscle between his legs protested at encountering a "do not enter" sign for the first time. How could Luke tell Terrence that he was so close to the truth? How could he justify feeling as though he had been kicked in the teeth, thrown in to a ravine, falling willingly into the chasm? How could he explain his need to protect...Luke swore under his breath. Clarity slammed through him like a bucket of ice water. He turned back to the window, his eyes narrowing in disbelief, unmindful of his friend's perplexed look.
He was feeling protective of another man's woman.
After he got home the night before, he couldn't stop thinking of her. How could he have been hit so hard? What was it that made him think Gracie was the woman for him? After she left him in a blaze of invisible petrol fumes, he had walked to his car in a daze, sitting for several minutes before he realized that he hadn't started the engine. He was so struck by his epiphany, he didn't have the presence of mind to get her car registration number. He never expected to see her again and although it would give him a few hours of blue balls, he was sure he would get over it. Hell, he even thought of going back to the bar later, hoping to catch her again. Hoping she'd park her car in the same spot. Right, who was he kidding? He'd probably be jacking off all over the shower or in his bed for a couple of days until his cock begged for mercy to stop.
It was by sheer dint of will that he stopped himself from showing shock and the tremor of pleasure that burst inside him when he saw her at his office's reception area. She was backlit by the autumn sun. Her deep auburn hair glinted as it caught the day shining through the window. He now knew she had deep brown eyes. It warmed him. Beautiful. Mesmerizing. Genuine. Then it hit him. She was the financial strategist sent by Matt Levinson and Associates, the person he had dreaded meeting the day before because he was just so tired. Earlier that morning, he was close to asking Terrence to take care of discussing the projects so that he could just work from home. Had he done that, he wouldn't have seen her and known who she was. Terrence would have had that sole opportunity.
And Luke didn't like it one bit.
They talked while he immersed himself in her, enjoying the cadence of her voice. Lilting and soft, he already had an idea of how firm she could be.
Sexy.
And while she spoke, his mind was elsewhere, particularly in thinking of laying her down on the couch and getting his fill of her, receptionist be damned. His nose captured the scent of her gentle perfume every time she moved, and he breathed it into his lungs to keep it there, reminding him of someone he wanted but couldn't have. Gracie had taken off her coat earlier and then she preceded him into his office. Luke couldn't take his eyes off the way her hips swayed as she walked, her dark grey pencil skirt hugging her body, cinching her waist and skimming her perfectly shaped derriere. She may not have long legs but to him they were perfectly shaped, sexy calves in sheer black stockings, her feet in black high heels. He nearly groaned when Gracie turned around because her skirt tightened enough for him to see she was wearing a garter belt underneath, the lace of her stay-ups lightly visible through her clothing. Good thing she had been puzzled as to why the CEO wasn't at his desk because if Gracie's gaze had strayed lower, she would have seen the bulge between his legs growing. Hell, he wanted to flush her against his chest, to rub himself between her ass cheeks to let her know how much he wanted her before bending her over his desk to take her from behind. Take her slow, ask her how she wanted it, wanting to hear her come while his hands dug into her hips, thrusting deep into her until he reached his own climax.
She wasn't the kind of woman he was used to having in his bed—women with long legs and perfectly symmetrical bodies whose makeup looked as though they had their own private salon.
Yet for him, Gracie Sinclair was perfect and any touch of the cosmetic surgeon's scalpel would have detracted from her beauty.
Part of him rejoiced at the prospect of seeing her again even while regret pulled strongly at his gut, knowing she belonged to someone else. Why he didn't reveal his identity was more of a reflex. Women who knew who he was immediately gravitated to him, wanting to live vicariously through him. They wanted to bask in his success and partake of his wealth. Gracie didn't even bat an eyelash. No, that wasn't true. He could sense her attraction, could smell it in the air like it was second nature to him but that was it. She refused to exploit that attraction. Luke's mouth lifted in a half grin. The irony wasn't lost on him that he had expected women to fall for his charms and here was a woman who just didn't want to.
Now he knew why. She was married and this truth alone was further strengthened when she knew who he was.
Then Gracie Sinclair just shut down.
He had to admit that he was impressed with her report. She knew what she was talking about. Yet during her spiel, a huge percentage of his thinking process was about having this intelligent woman underneath him, writhing in pleasure. His shaft jerked inside his jeans, and he shifted to ease the pressure of it pressing against the fly.
And that was Luke's problem. If he desired Gracie Sinclair and he had fallen for her, lust or love he hadn't a clue, it would be difficult to work with her. He was a hands-on CEO. He wanted to know everything that went on because Bryce Engineering was his baby, though in time he knew he would have to delegate. If he wasn't careful, he'd have his hands all over Gracie, mapping every curve, tasting every inch of her skin, making her sex his own personal forbidden fruit. He had watched her under hooded eyes while she discussed the projects with Terrence. He watched the way her head angled slightly to one side while she listened to his friend, smiled like sunshine when he said something amusing. Luke didn't like that Gracie's smile was directed at his friend, and growled. They both turned to him at the same time he brought his eyes down on the report.
"You okay, mate?"
Luke grunted.
"Don't mind him," Terrence had said. "He's been like a caged bear all week."
Luke had felt Gracie's gaze on him. He looked up and their gazes clashed. Bloody hell, he could have drowned in them. Emotions flickered through them like a silent movie. Surprise. Curiosity. Warmth. Desire before it disappeared.
That last feeling made his cock twitch as if Gracie had flicked her tongue against the underside of his shaft. He had looked down and seen that his erection had tented. Good thing he was sitting behind his desk.
He needed to take control of the situation and thinking about Gracie's mouth on him wasn't going to help him. He had forced his mind to concentrate on the papers in front of him and not imagine it to be a magazine full of pictures of a naked and writhing Gracie.
Perhaps now was as good a time as any to step back for a while. This was a sign that he should be delegating and not dipping his hands in everything.
The muscle on his jaw ticked.
He'd let Terrence deal with any accounting and financial planning issues his company might have. Let him deal with Matt Levinson and Associates. Luke didn't have any problem with that. After seeing Gracie again he'd make an exception.
He snorted.
Yeah right, mate.
He rubbed the back of his neck to relieve the building tension. The following week away from work was enough to get her out of his system. This was just an overdose of lust, this couldn't be falling in love. He'd hit the bars and see whom he could take to bed. To he
ll with feeling protective. It would all pass. Maybe he could take up Cilla on her offer. A resounding "No," clanged inside his head like he was in the Notre Dame Bell Tower with Quasimodo.
"If you're so interested in her, why don't you go after her?"
He slowly turned around at Terrence's question, forgetting that his friend was still in the room. He looked down at his desk, shaking his head.
"Why the bloody hell not?" Terrence said, incredulous. "I don't get you, Luke. This funk must really be bad. Who knows? She might just be the right woman for you."
Luke pinned his friend with a glare. "You know why the hell not. She's bloody married, man! You called her Mrs. Sinclair. You're sicker than a sick bastard if you're encouraging me to screw another man's wife."
Terrence’s face cleared, shook his head, and chuckled with amusement. Luke's face was close to being thunderous.
"What?" he snapped. "I swear, Terrence, this has gone too far! I might just forget you're my best friend if—"
"She used to be married, Luke." Terrence interrupted him.
Hope hit him like ice cubes before Luke stated, "She's separated then."
Terrence shook his head.
"No, mate." He paused for effect. "Gracie Sinclair is a widow."
Chapter Six
It was close to five on Monday afternoon when Gracie finally had a chance to talk to Matt about the Bryce Engineering account. Outside the skies had darkened, a drastic contrast to how the day started. Dark to slate grey mixed with whorls of cornflower blue dominated the expanse, as though gleefully bringing the blanket of night all too soon.
When she left Bryce Engineering offices on Friday, she sat in her car for a long time to quell her racing heart. She deliberately didn't say goodbye using Luke's given name, and she saw the displeasure in his eyes. If Terrence hadn't been there, would he have forced the issue and insist that she call him by his name? While that fleeting sentiment made her pulse flutter, it also gave her a trickle of trepidation. The thought of being forced to do something she didn't want to do brought back traumatic bits and pieces of memories haphazardly scattered in her psyche. She could have easily lost it and cowered inside that office. What would that have achieved? Doubts about her abilities would probably plague Luke and Terrence. She couldn't allow that to happen.