“Chloe. Nice name. I’ll text you all the information.”
Luke hung up and forwarded the details Doug had sent him about the gala to Trainor’s phone. He envied the CEO’s ability to bring the woman he wanted with him to the event. He found himself resenting any free time not spent with Miranda.
Because the clock on their time together was running out.
Chapter 15
Miranda walked out the front door of the Pinnacle and spotted the black sedan pulled up at the curb. Refusing to look around furtively, as though she were doing something wrong, she strode across the sidewalk and opened the car’s back door to let herself in. When the driver had texted her that he was there, she’d told him not to get out. She’d even worn a long belted raincoat to cover the dress she’d changed into in her office.
She slid into the backseat, breathing a sigh of relief that she appeared to have escaped unnoticed. However absurd, her precautions seemed necessary. Two more colleagues had called to mention the rumors Orin was spreading about her. Miranda slumped back into the leather seat and unbuttoned her raincoat. She’d been foolhardy to take this risk, but when Luke promised her complete privacy, temptation had overwhelmed her good sense.
“Is the heat on too high?” the driver asked.
“No, it’s fine.” She almost laughed. It wasn’t the car’s heater that was sending flares of warmth licking through her body.
She smoothed her palms over the skirt of her rose-colored dress. It fit her like a glove without being overtly sexy. She’d fastened a statement necklace of chunky quartz and gold around her neck to add interest to the plunging V of the neckline. The high-heeled gladiator sandals in faux snakeskin gave her outfit some edge. She’d taken care with her outfit because she was meeting a man who was accustomed to women wearing high-end designer clothes. In the growing darkness, she wondered if it had been a fluke of time and place that she and the celebrity quarterback had felt such a connection yesterday.
He seemed to think it was more than that, arranging for all this secrecy. Of course, he wasn’t used to hearing no from a woman or anyone else, so it probably brought out the competitor in him.
The town car wove through the narrow downtown streets and crept into a back alley before coming to a stop. This time the driver jumped out and jogged around to hold the door Miranda had already opened.
She swung her legs out and stood in the pool of light thrown by an ornate bronze fixture over an unmarked door. It reminded her of the back entrance to Cleats, and she had a sudden understanding of the downside of fame—always sneaking into places from dark alleys, through utilitarian doors, dressed in a raincoat or a baseball cap and sunglasses. Ironic that she often arranged such access for her clients.
“I’ll take you to Mr. Archer,” the driver said, gesturing toward the door.
Miranda waited while the driver knocked. The door swung open, and then she was ushered through a series of hallways, the decor going from white paint and linoleum to wood paneling and ultrathick carpeting. The driver tapped a distinctive rhythm on a double door before turning to walk away down the corridor. Miranda didn’t have time to say thank you before one of the doors swung inward.
No one greeted her, so she stepped through into a sitting room decorated in richly textured modern fabrics and paneled in dark wood. Huge windows framed spectacular views of New York Harbor, with the Statue of Liberty raising her glowing lamp above the waves. A mouthwatering aroma of gourmet food floated past her nostrils.
The door closed behind her, and she pivoted to find Luke turning the privacy lock. He gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry about the cloak-and-dagger routine. I didn’t want anyone to see or hear me from the hallway. For your protection.”
“It was a little spooky,” Miranda said, a slight quaver in her voice.
Luke was dressed in charcoal gray trousers that made his legs look even longer than usual, and a dark blue shirt, unbuttoned at the neck, which gave a surprising elegance to his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The dark colors of his clothing made his gilded hair and pale eyes practically glow in contrast. She drew in a deep breath to dampen the flutters in her chest.
“Let me take your coat.” He stepped behind her and slipped the raincoat off her shoulders. His breath stirred a strand of hair against her temple, sending a shiver of sensation skittering down her neck. He laid the coat across a chair set by the door and turned, this time with heat warming his blue eyes.
“Now for a real hello,” he said, bringing one hand up to splay along her jaw as he angled his head downward to brush her lips with his.
The feel of his strong fingers against her skin, the touch of his mouth on hers, the sense of his body only inches away, lit a subtle flame that licked along Miranda’s veins. She stepped into him. As she ran her palms up his chest, he circled her waist with one powerful arm to bring her even closer.
She expected him to intensify the kiss, so she let her lips part, but he lifted his head. “Dinner first. Because once we get started, the food will end up cold.”
A wave of apprehension swept through her, dousing the sensual glow he’d just kindled. He was looking at her with intense anticipation, as though he’d been making plans all day.
She didn’t know if she could live up to them.
“It smells wonderful,” she said, starting to move away from him. His encircling arm stopped her.
He was staring down at her with a frown. “You don’t need to worry about Spindle. No one knows you’re here except my driver, and he’s been keeping my secrets for years.”