“Your dad wants you to take a meeting tomorrow at three p.m. with the new granite place,” she said, pursing her red lips. When had she switched from bubblegum gloss? He shifted in his chair and grabbed his sandwich.
“Not doing it. I have a meeting to see if I can secure some property.”
A tiny frown creased her brow. “He’s gonna be mad.”
“I don’t give a shit. I’m getting tired of not having my voice heard around here. I’m not a lackey to take his meetings.”
Pure empathy radiated from her jade-green eyes. He relaxed an inch. Sydney always understood and backed him at every turn. Even now he could tell her brain was clicking to try to find a way to help him. “Do you want me to take the meeting? I can take notes, and if there’s a problem, I can text or call you.”
He could go toe-to-toe with his father again or allow her to do it. This time it’d be easier to keep the peace until he knew he could purchase the property. “Thanks, Syd. That would be great.”
“Welcome.” She smiled, and their gazes met, and his heart suddenly started beating way too fast. “I need to get out of here on time tonight, though.”
“Sure. Going out with your friends?”
“Nope. Got a date.”
He stilled. “Didn’t know you were dating someone,” he said casually. “What’s the matter? Hiding him from us for some reason?”
His teasing seemed to fall flat, but she just shrugged, shifting a little so her skirt slid higher. He couldn’t keep his gaze from flicking down for one brief moment. Her golden skin looked smooth and soft, and those wicked heels seemed too mature for her to wear. What was going on with her lately?
What the hell was going on with him? Sydney was . . . family. An annoying little sister but someone he loved. Lately she made him uncomfortable, and he didn’t know how to handle it.
“Christian wouldn’t approve,” she flung out. “He’s a bit of a bad boy. Rides a bike.”
A low growl rose from his chest. “Syd, that’s not a good idea. Where the hell did you meet him?”
“That bar down on South.”
His ears rang. His blood pressure cranked up a notch. “You’re not legal drinking age! Are you fucking kidding me?”
She rolled her eyes. “Tris, you and your brothers have been drinking at that bar since you were seventeen. I’m careful. I always go with a group of girlfriends.”
“Are they going on your date with you tonight?” A touch of bitterness leaked into his voice.
“No. But I can take care of myself.”
“No, you can’t, dammit. Cancel.”
Suddenly she leaned forward. Her proper white blouse gaped open, giving him a glimpse of her lacy white bra cupping full breasts. Dear God, when had she filled out? “If you want me to cancel, Tris, you need to give me a good reason.”
Shock hit him. The woman across the desk was barely recognizable, from her flirty eyes to her pouty mouth and crackling sensuality. For a while, he couldn’t move. He just stared into her heated green eyes and fought a surging arousal that was strangling him, pulling him down into a seething pit of pure temptation. He imagined himself walking around his desk, pulling her to her feet, and taking her mouth in a punishing kiss.
He also knew she wouldn’t fight him. Oh, no, she’d open her mouth under his and take his tongue deep and arch into him, her hot little body for the taking.
Because she was meant for him.
The shock morphed into panic. His sandwich dropped from his hands, and he rolled his chair back, desperately needing more distance. “Umm, how about we talk about this later? Listen, I’m sorry, I forgot I have to make an important call on this deal.”
Disappointment flashed in her eyes. “Sure. No problem.” She grabbed her stuff and stood up. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Her words dripped with meaning. His dick pulsed, making him feel like a damn teen boy. “Yep. Thanks,” he choked out.
When she shut the door behind her, he was able to breathe, but he knew in that moment everything had changed.
Sydney had grown up, and he’d finally noticed. The real problem would be keeping the necessary distance between them until the urge faded. Besides being part of his family, she worked at Pierce Brothers. Getting involved with her would be an epic disaster, and he had enough to deal with lately with his father and brothers. They were fighting all the time, having different views of how the company should go. The closeness among them had vanished. Even his mother was having trouble getting them to communicate or even to spend a meal together any longer. Something was going to break, and soon.
He needed to make sure he stayed away from Sydney.
Chapter Five
On Friday morning, Sydney waited outside her house, trying to ignore the sickening twirls in her belly. She felt like she’d just gone on the teacup ride and was ready to hurl. Embarrassed at her childish reaction, she kept reminding herself this was a business trip. Adam Cushman wanted a face-to-face in Manhattan to go over some important details and to begin moving forward. Since the attic incident, she and Tristan had spent the last few days working separately or in the office surrounded by people. The tension between them had turned from cool distance to shattering awareness.
Today would be the first time they’d be alone since the kiss. She chided herself mentally for her worry. They’d chat politely in the car, listen to some music, have their client lunch, and go home. There was no reason to feel as if she was going to be held hostage and tortured. She’d set the tone, he’d follow her lead, and they’d get this thing done. Nothing to worry about. It was just a kiss.
The kiss. Oh, God, the kiss.
She burned just from the memory of that hot, soul-stirring, wicked kiss. He’d tasted like musk and sin. Smelled like the ocean and sun-warmed sand. Her fingers gripped rock-hard muscles trapped under soft, elegant fabric. He kissed her with the same raw passion and dominant control that always made her panties wet. It was everything she’d remembered but more. So much more.
Damn that stupid ghost.
He pulled up to her door in his silver Lincoln Crossover—both practical and elegant. Just like him, her mind reminded her. Whether he was closing a deal or stripping off his clothes, he’d always held an innate animal grace that buckled her knees.
Don’t think about it.
He strode around the car toward her dressed in a black pin-striped suit and red tie. Timber-colored hair swept back from his face, showing off his broad forehead, arched brows, and gleaming whiskey eyes. He opened the car door for her. She swallowed. Maybe he’d forget that moment of weakness and intimacy. They’d just managed a truce to promote their business relationship. Neither of them was prepared for more. “Morning,” she offered.
“Morning. I brought you coffee and a fruit cup.”
“Thank you.”
“You ready for this?”
She turned and found him standing close. His hand propped the door open, and a tiny smirk rested on his full lips. His jaw was clean shaven, and the delicious ocean scent of his cologne drifted from his skin. Her fingers itched to trace the faint scar that ran down his right cheek—evidence of a rock fight with his brothers that hadn’t gone well. A reluctant smile got past her. Did his question hold a hidden meaning, or was she being paranoid? She fought the blush and ducked her head anyway. “Ready.”
She got in the car, and he came back around, pulling out. The smell of leather and his cologne wrapped around her. Jazz music played softly from the speakers, soothing her ears. “You can put on the seat warmers if you’d like. It’s a bit chilly this morning.”
“March is temperamental.”
“Yes, it is.”
Silence descended. Sydney tried not to wring her fingers and stared out the window. One hour and twenty-eight minutes left to their destination. Could she pretend to doze? There should be plenty of room in such a spacious car, but it felt as if his powerful thigh was just inches from hers. Why had she worn a skirt? Her legs were practically naked and vulnerable to his gaze. He kept his attention on the road, sipping his coffee, not seeming to care that the tension between them was knotted so tight, she might choke. The chunky silver watch emphasized the sinewy muscle of his wrist and his long tapered fingers. She’d always believed he could be a concert pianist. Lord knows he’d played her body like a maestro. With his lips, too.