Authors: Linda Francis Lee
Tags: #Romance, #Sex in the workplace, #Fiction
Sinfully Sexy (8 page)
she laughed until she had tears streaming down her cheeks.
But every trace of humor fled from her expression when his gaze drifted
to her mouth. Laughter broke off. Her lips rounded in a silent Oh.
Automatically she touched her mouth as if hoping to find more cheese.
But nothing was there.
When he looked back into her eyes he laughed softly, heat drumming
through him. The hard ruthlessness he normally felt was amazingly gone,
but something far more dangerous took its place. Desire that made him
feel unhinged and reckless.
He leaned close, the fluorescent lights casting shadows on her face.
"Why is it," he whispered, "that I'm drawn to you?"
"You make it sound so bad." Then she blinked. "And it is bad," she
added, summoning up indignation.
She opened her mouth to add more, probably a detailed explanation as to
why they shouldn't pursue
this crazy path. But he pressed his finger to her mouth.
"Shhh. Don't say anything else."
He saw the tremor run along her body, saw her pulse in her neck. With
slow determination, he ran his finger down her cheek, then under her
chin. He tilted her ever so slightly. He knew that she understood that
he would kiss her. He could see how her irises flared, the blues of her
eyes going dark with desire.
"God, who the hell are you?" he demanded raggedly.
Chloe didn't answer. Couldn't. She tried to think about the fact that
she was supposed to be doing penance, not giving in to the very thing
that had got her into trouble in the first place. She tried to wrestle
her thoughts back into order. Instead she sucked in her breath, then
touched him. Just a touch. Just on his cheek, the skin just barely
rough despite a close shave. She loved the feel of him, the scent of
him, spicy and clean, like wild grasses.
"You make me crazy." He said the words like an accusation. "You talk
back and question me at every turn."
"And that's a bad thing?" she whispered, not moving away.
He laughed grimly, a sweet vibration of sound. "You undo me."
Then she felt the last of his resistance melt away as his hands reached
up, his palms lining her jaw, his fingers trailing back into her hair.
"I want you," he whispered raggedly, a hairbreadth away from her ear.
"Here, right now."
It was crazy. She had promised herself that such behavior was a
one-time thing. But she could hear his need whispering in her head like
a rush of air, causing the feelings to shift and change. Desperate need
turned to willing desire, sought after like a brass ring. Right then
she couldn't think of anything more
than losing herself in his arms.
Expertly, he tilted her head a little more and he leaned forward. She
started to close her eyes. She wanted to feel his mouth against hers
one more time, feel the same sensations she had felt the other night .
. . when she had gone crazy. Gone wild.
Had been sinfully forward
, she
could all but hear her grandmother say.
Thoughts rushed through her head as he bent his head to hers.
Grandmother. Propriety. Smart girls don't kiss strangers. Prescott
Media's hired henchman could be nothing less than dangerous.
"No!"
She blurted the word as sense finally returned. With a squeak and a
jerk, she leaped away, nearly knocking him out of his chair.
"Chloe?" His eyes narrowed.
"I can't. We can't."
He reached for her, and she leaped farther away.
"Why not?"
"Because. Besides, your cell phone is ringing," she added hastily. And
it was.
He ignored the phone and they stood facing each other. He cocked his
head. "Does this mean you're going to disappear on me again?"
She stared at him forever. "Yes, that's what it means."
He surprised her by looking pleased. "At least you've stopped trying to
pretend that night didn't happen."
Damn. "Well, it won't happen again."
"Why? Because you're not that sort of woman? Is that what you're going
to say?"
"No. I was going to say that you aren't my type."
"What type is that?"
"Arrogant, brash, used to getting what you want."
"I do get what I want," he stated arrogantly, brashly. "And I want you."
"
That's
when I'd say I'm not
that sort of woman. You were a fling, a diversion. A stupid mistake."
His brows slammed together.
"All brought on by the fact that when I answered that reincarnation
question we talked about, I wrote
in
llama
."
She could tell she wasn't making him feel any better, and he already
didn't like the fact that she had
called him a mistake.
She backed up even farther. "It's getting late, and I've got to go."
He studied her with menacing dark eyes. Then he pulled his phone out of
its holder and glanced at the readout.
"Since you aren't going to kiss me yetâ"
"Yet!"
"âI'm going to return the call. But I shouldn't be more than forty-five
minutes." He headed for the door. "I'll meet you back here at
six-thirty."
"I have plans at six-thirty," she called after him.
"Change them."
Then he was gone, leaving her staring at the closed door in sheer,
utter disbelief. Who did he think he was?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To: Sterling Prescott
From: Betty Taylor
Subject: Direction
Mr. Prescott:
Betty Taylor
Executive Assistant to Sterling Prescott
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Diana Prescott
Subject: Where are you?
p.s. Ben's all right, isn't he?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Vendela Prescott
Subject: Not amused
Dear Sterling:
Your mother
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Serena Prescott
Subject: E-mail
Dearest Sterling,
Grandmere
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
     Vendela Prescott
     Diana Prescott
From: Sterling Prescott
Subject: Update
Chairman and CEO, Prescott Media
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Serena Prescott
Subject: Trip
Dearest Sterling,
Grandmere
From: Sterling Prescott
Subject: Absolutely not
system. He had known running Prescott from Texas would require a
delicate balancing act, but he hadn't anticipated his family causing
him the most aggravation.
Not that he should be surprised that Diana would act up. She was
spoiled, had never worked a day in
her life, and believed that spending money was the only way to find
true happiness. But he knew how
to deal with that. Keep her on a tight rein. In the end, she always
came back in line. She wouldn't dare risk gaining his displeasure so
thoroughly that he would completely cut her off.
The middle Prescott heir went about planning parties with the precision
of a military general. But no one could deny that Diana had a smile
that could light up a room. Though as the saying went, when she was
good, she was very, very good. When she was bad, she was horrid.
As aggravating as Diana was, however, he cared for his sister and would
never let anything happen
to her.
But Diana wasn't the family member who concerned him.
What he hadn't expected was trouble in the form of his grandmother. The
last person he needed to show up in El Paso was the family matriarch,
all around busybody, and the only person he knew who wasn't the least
bit afraid of him.
That is, she had been the only person until he met Chloe. He had a
feeling that his grandmother would like Chloe a great deal.
Serena Cervantes Prescott was an eighty-three-year-old whirlwind of
energy who insisted on being
called Grandmere, as if only the French version of grandmother was
grand enough for her. Sharp as a tack and just as pointed in her
opinions regarding everything from the way the country was being run
to Prescott Media's future plans.
Her husband, Sterling's grandfather, had started Prescott after he was
honorably discharged from the army. Preston Prescott had brought his
bride back to St. Louis, and the two of them had put Prescott Inc., as
it was called back then, on the map. They had built the business from
the ground up. But after
all their hard work, their only child, Sterling's father, had taken
over and nearly ruined everything.
The minute Sterling graduated from Harvard Business School with an MBA
in finance, he had returned home to take over the reins, fighting to
save the foundering business.
Rupert Prescott had actually been relieved to step aside once he had
gotten over the embarrassment of being forced out. Grandmere had
lamented more than once that she had babied her son and had no one but
herself to blame for Rupert's lack of drive.
As a result, she had ridden her grandsons hard over the years. No
question, Sterling was driven to succeed. Ben was driven as well,
though much to the family's dismay, he was driven to be anything but an
employee of Prescott Media.
Sterling packed his laptop into his briefcase, then headed down the
hall for Chloe's office so they could finish up their planning session.
He registered in some recess of his mind that the place had an empty
feel to it. Employees had already departed for the day with the
exception of a skeletal evening on-air
staff. But it never occurred to him that Chloe would have left.
He stopped at the threshold to her office and was genuinely surprised
when she wasn't sitting at her
desk. When he scheduled a meeting with someone, that person was always
there.
He glanced around, saw no one, then pulled his cuff back and looked at
his watch. He noted that it
was only 6:27. He sat down to wait.
At 6:30 he grew impatient. At 6:35 he stood and began to pace. He
walked around her office, took in the neatly organized desk, the
AT-A-GLANCE calendar, her small, neat print noting meetings and events
occurring over the course of the month.
He picked up a framed photograph of three young girls. He could tell
they were Chloe, Julia, and Kate. Then another of them when they were
older. And a single photo of Chloe with an older woman. A grandmother,
probably; but no one else.
He thought of his own family. There was no avoiding them. Not that he
wanted to. As the head of Prescott Media, he was the unnamed patriarch
of the family. His father left all decisions up to him.
Which is why Sterling had traveled to El Paso to take care of the
wayward son rather than one of
their parents.
Like thoughts of him could make him appear, Ben knocked on the door and
leaned in.
"Hey,
Trey
," he greeted with
a smug smile. "That has a certain ring to it."
Sterling wasn't amusedâby his brother's delight or by the constant
reminder that he was using someone else's name. But now that he was
committed, he didn't know how to untangle the situation without making
things worse. Besides, as much as he didn't want to admit it, he hadn't
felt this alive in years.
He glanced at the clock: 6:45, and still no Chloe. "Where the hell is
everyone around here?"
Ben laughed. "Looks like they're gone. Which is good, since the sooner
we leave and head over to the
car rental place, the better."
"I've got to meet with someone first." Scowling, the elder Prescott
glanced at his watch again. "Where
is she?"
Ben craned his neck back and looked around the empty building. "Who?"
"Chloe."
"Really?" He glanced around her office. "Where is she?"
Irritated, Sterling tugged at his cuffs. "That's what I'd like to know."
A lone office light flicked off down the hall. Julia emerged, pulling
the door shut behind her.
Ben instantly grew alert, a smooth coolness sliding through him, making
Sterling see for the first time the man who had become an undercover
agent. But this coolness wasn't the sort of reaction that a man on the
hunt would exhibit. Ben looked like he didn't know what to make of the
wild beauty.
Julia came toward them, her leopard print purse swinging on her
shoulder, her heels so high that it was
a wonder she could walk. But no question Ben was looking her over.
Julia looked Ben directly in the eye, and Sterling would have sworn
that the beauty was self-conscious. But then she preened for the
younger Prescott, as if she knew he was studying her and she was
enjoying every minute of it. But Sterling was too concerned about other
matters to give it much thought.
"Julia," he said, breaking into whatever was going on between those
two. "I'm supposed to meet Chloe
at six-thirty. She's not here."
"True, she isn't," she responded, though she smiled wickedly at Ben.
"Where is she?"
Without ever looking at him, she said, "It's Tuesday, which means she's
at
World's Gym
. We all go on
Tuesdays. Though I'm running late. There's a new, incredibly cute
instructor for the six-thirty and seven-thirty kickboxing classes."
Julia shifted her gaze to Sterling. "Chloe has a crush on him. She
wouldn't miss Tuesday Kick for anything. Gotta run if I'm going to make
it to the next session."
Julia walked past the men and headed out of the building.
Both men watched her go, though it wasn't Julia who Sterling saw in his
mind's eye.
"Come on, let's go," he commanded, already grabbing his briefcase and
heading out the door.
"Where are we going?"
"To the damned gym."
Sterling ignored his brother's lamenting groan.
But every trace of humor fled from her expression when his gaze drifted
to her mouth. Laughter broke off. Her lips rounded in a silent Oh.
Automatically she touched her mouth as if hoping to find more cheese.
But nothing was there.
When he looked back into her eyes he laughed softly, heat drumming
through him. The hard ruthlessness he normally felt was amazingly gone,
but something far more dangerous took its place. Desire that made him
feel unhinged and reckless.
He leaned close, the fluorescent lights casting shadows on her face.
"Why is it," he whispered, "that I'm drawn to you?"
"You make it sound so bad." Then she blinked. "And it is bad," she
added, summoning up indignation.
She opened her mouth to add more, probably a detailed explanation as to
why they shouldn't pursue
this crazy path. But he pressed his finger to her mouth.
"Shhh. Don't say anything else."
He saw the tremor run along her body, saw her pulse in her neck. With
slow determination, he ran his finger down her cheek, then under her
chin. He tilted her ever so slightly. He knew that she understood that
he would kiss her. He could see how her irises flared, the blues of her
eyes going dark with desire.
"God, who the hell are you?" he demanded raggedly.
Chloe didn't answer. Couldn't. She tried to think about the fact that
she was supposed to be doing penance, not giving in to the very thing
that had got her into trouble in the first place. She tried to wrestle
her thoughts back into order. Instead she sucked in her breath, then
touched him. Just a touch. Just on his cheek, the skin just barely
rough despite a close shave. She loved the feel of him, the scent of
him, spicy and clean, like wild grasses.
"You make me crazy." He said the words like an accusation. "You talk
back and question me at every turn."
"And that's a bad thing?" she whispered, not moving away.
He laughed grimly, a sweet vibration of sound. "You undo me."
Then she felt the last of his resistance melt away as his hands reached
up, his palms lining her jaw, his fingers trailing back into her hair.
"I want you," he whispered raggedly, a hairbreadth away from her ear.
"Here, right now."
It was crazy. She had promised herself that such behavior was a
one-time thing. But she could hear his need whispering in her head like
a rush of air, causing the feelings to shift and change. Desperate need
turned to willing desire, sought after like a brass ring. Right then
she couldn't think of anything more
than losing herself in his arms.
Expertly, he tilted her head a little more and he leaned forward. She
started to close her eyes. She wanted to feel his mouth against hers
one more time, feel the same sensations she had felt the other night .
. . when she had gone crazy. Gone wild.
Had been sinfully forward
, she
could all but hear her grandmother say.
Thoughts rushed through her head as he bent his head to hers.
Grandmother. Propriety. Smart girls don't kiss strangers. Prescott
Media's hired henchman could be nothing less than dangerous.
"No!"
She blurted the word as sense finally returned. With a squeak and a
jerk, she leaped away, nearly knocking him out of his chair.
"Chloe?" His eyes narrowed.
"I can't. We can't."
He reached for her, and she leaped farther away.
"Why not?"
"Because. Besides, your cell phone is ringing," she added hastily. And
it was.
He ignored the phone and they stood facing each other. He cocked his
head. "Does this mean you're going to disappear on me again?"
She stared at him forever. "Yes, that's what it means."
He surprised her by looking pleased. "At least you've stopped trying to
pretend that night didn't happen."
Damn. "Well, it won't happen again."
"Why? Because you're not that sort of woman? Is that what you're going
to say?"
"No. I was going to say that you aren't my type."
"What type is that?"
"Arrogant, brash, used to getting what you want."
"I do get what I want," he stated arrogantly, brashly. "And I want you."
"
That's
when I'd say I'm not
that sort of woman. You were a fling, a diversion. A stupid mistake."
His brows slammed together.
"All brought on by the fact that when I answered that reincarnation
question we talked about, I wrote
in
llama
."
She could tell she wasn't making him feel any better, and he already
didn't like the fact that she had
called him a mistake.
She backed up even farther. "It's getting late, and I've got to go."
He studied her with menacing dark eyes. Then he pulled his phone out of
its holder and glanced at the readout.
"Since you aren't going to kiss me yetâ"
"Yet!"
"âI'm going to return the call. But I shouldn't be more than forty-five
minutes." He headed for the door. "I'll meet you back here at
six-thirty."
"I have plans at six-thirty," she called after him.
"Change them."
Then he was gone, leaving her staring at the closed door in sheer,
utter disbelief. Who did he think he was?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To: Sterling Prescott
From: Betty Taylor
Subject: Direction
Mr. Prescott:
I
have fielded several calls from your family members. Your sister has
called three timesâshe is less than pleased that you left town without
approving the money she needs to close on her condominium. Your mother
has called twice, and your grandmother just told me that if I didn't
tell her where you were, she'd have me fired.
Please advise.
Best regards,have fielded several calls from your family members. Your sister has
called three timesâshe is less than pleased that you left town without
approving the money she needs to close on her condominium. Your mother
has called twice, and your grandmother just told me that if I didn't
tell her where you were, she'd have me fired.
Please advise.
Betty Taylor
Executive Assistant to Sterling Prescott
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Â
From: Diana Prescott
Subject: Where are you?
Why
aren't you back yet? And why didn't you approve my request regarding
the money? If I don't close on that condo, they will sell it to someone
else. It isn't fair that I have to come to you for everything. I'm a
Prescott, too. Not some underling who earns a salary!
Dianaaren't you back yet? And why didn't you approve my request regarding
the money? If I don't close on that condo, they will sell it to someone
else. It isn't fair that I have to come to you for everything. I'm a
Prescott, too. Not some underling who earns a salary!
p.s. Ben's all right, isn't he?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Â
From: Vendela Prescott
Subject: Not amused
Dear Sterling:
Why
haven't I heard a word regarding Ben? Your father and I are sick with
worry. Last night at the Manards' soiree (five hundred guests, and I
was astounded how so many of my friends are aging),
I could hardly have fun for thinking about the two of you off in Texas
doing who knows what.
Please call. Getting information out of your secretary is
impossible.
With love,haven't I heard a word regarding Ben? Your father and I are sick with
worry. Last night at the Manards' soiree (five hundred guests, and I
was astounded how so many of my friends are aging),
I could hardly have fun for thinking about the two of you off in Texas
doing who knows what.
Please call. Getting information out of your secretary is
impossible.
Your mother
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Â
From: Serena Prescott
Subject: E-mail
Dearest Sterling,
You
have forced an old woman to use this god-awful e-mail contraption since
despite my threats
to that abysmal Cyclops who guards your whereabouts, I haven't received
a bit of information regarding the success of your mission. I liked it
better when I was still on the board of Prescott. Then I could have
fired her. Alas, I'm forced to resort to this. Why haven't you returned
with
young Ben in hand?
Sincerely,have forced an old woman to use this god-awful e-mail contraption since
despite my threats
to that abysmal Cyclops who guards your whereabouts, I haven't received
a bit of information regarding the success of your mission. I liked it
better when I was still on the board of Prescott. Then I could have
fired her. Alas, I'm forced to resort to this. Why haven't you returned
with
young Ben in hand?
Grandmere
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Â
     Vendela Prescott
     Diana Prescott
From: Sterling Prescott
Subject: Update
I
am here with Ben. He is doing well. I will be spending the month in El
Paso, as a business deal
has come up that requires my full attention. I will keep you posted.
SHPam here with Ben. He is doing well. I will be spending the month in El
Paso, as a business deal
has come up that requires my full attention. I will keep you posted.
p.s.
Diana, the property will still be there when I get back. I will not
sign off on a purchase until
I've seen for myself that it is a good investment.
Sterling PrescottDiana, the property will still be there when I get back. I will not
sign off on a purchase until
I've seen for myself that it is a good investment.
Chairman and CEO, Prescott Media
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Â
From: Serena Prescott
Subject: Trip
Dearest Sterling,
A
month in El Paso, you say. Perhaps I should come down. I haven't been
to El Paso in ages.
What I'd give for some Mexican food like my father used to make. I
think a trip could be just
the ticket.
Yours,month in El Paso, you say. Perhaps I should come down. I haven't been
to El Paso in ages.
What I'd give for some Mexican food like my father used to make. I
think a trip could be just
the ticket.
Grandmere
p.s.
I'd be careful with Diana, if I were you. You know how she can stir up
trouble when she doesn't get her way.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------I'd be careful with Diana, if I were you. You know how she can stir up
trouble when she doesn't get her way.
Â
From: Sterling Prescott
Subject: Absolutely not
Grandmere,
this is not a good time for you to visit. As to Diana, rest assured, I
can handle
my sister.
I will be in touch.
SHPthis is not a good time for you to visit. As to Diana, rest assured, I
can handle
my sister.
I will be in touch.
Â
Â
S I X
Sterling signed off of the remote access to the Prescott Media e-mailsystem. He had known running Prescott from Texas would require a
delicate balancing act, but he hadn't anticipated his family causing
him the most aggravation.
Not that he should be surprised that Diana would act up. She was
spoiled, had never worked a day in
her life, and believed that spending money was the only way to find
true happiness. But he knew how
to deal with that. Keep her on a tight rein. In the end, she always
came back in line. She wouldn't dare risk gaining his displeasure so
thoroughly that he would completely cut her off.
The middle Prescott heir went about planning parties with the precision
of a military general. But no one could deny that Diana had a smile
that could light up a room. Though as the saying went, when she was
good, she was very, very good. When she was bad, she was horrid.
As aggravating as Diana was, however, he cared for his sister and would
never let anything happen
to her.
But Diana wasn't the family member who concerned him.
What he hadn't expected was trouble in the form of his grandmother. The
last person he needed to show up in El Paso was the family matriarch,
all around busybody, and the only person he knew who wasn't the least
bit afraid of him.
That is, she had been the only person until he met Chloe. He had a
feeling that his grandmother would like Chloe a great deal.
Serena Cervantes Prescott was an eighty-three-year-old whirlwind of
energy who insisted on being
called Grandmere, as if only the French version of grandmother was
grand enough for her. Sharp as a tack and just as pointed in her
opinions regarding everything from the way the country was being run
to Prescott Media's future plans.
Her husband, Sterling's grandfather, had started Prescott after he was
honorably discharged from the army. Preston Prescott had brought his
bride back to St. Louis, and the two of them had put Prescott Inc., as
it was called back then, on the map. They had built the business from
the ground up. But after
all their hard work, their only child, Sterling's father, had taken
over and nearly ruined everything.
The minute Sterling graduated from Harvard Business School with an MBA
in finance, he had returned home to take over the reins, fighting to
save the foundering business.
Rupert Prescott had actually been relieved to step aside once he had
gotten over the embarrassment of being forced out. Grandmere had
lamented more than once that she had babied her son and had no one but
herself to blame for Rupert's lack of drive.
As a result, she had ridden her grandsons hard over the years. No
question, Sterling was driven to succeed. Ben was driven as well,
though much to the family's dismay, he was driven to be anything but an
employee of Prescott Media.
Sterling packed his laptop into his briefcase, then headed down the
hall for Chloe's office so they could finish up their planning session.
He registered in some recess of his mind that the place had an empty
feel to it. Employees had already departed for the day with the
exception of a skeletal evening on-air
staff. But it never occurred to him that Chloe would have left.
He stopped at the threshold to her office and was genuinely surprised
when she wasn't sitting at her
desk. When he scheduled a meeting with someone, that person was always
there.
He glanced around, saw no one, then pulled his cuff back and looked at
his watch. He noted that it
was only 6:27. He sat down to wait.
At 6:30 he grew impatient. At 6:35 he stood and began to pace. He
walked around her office, took in the neatly organized desk, the
AT-A-GLANCE calendar, her small, neat print noting meetings and events
occurring over the course of the month.
He picked up a framed photograph of three young girls. He could tell
they were Chloe, Julia, and Kate. Then another of them when they were
older. And a single photo of Chloe with an older woman. A grandmother,
probably; but no one else.
He thought of his own family. There was no avoiding them. Not that he
wanted to. As the head of Prescott Media, he was the unnamed patriarch
of the family. His father left all decisions up to him.
Which is why Sterling had traveled to El Paso to take care of the
wayward son rather than one of
their parents.
Like thoughts of him could make him appear, Ben knocked on the door and
leaned in.
"Hey,
Trey
," he greeted with
a smug smile. "That has a certain ring to it."
Sterling wasn't amusedâby his brother's delight or by the constant
reminder that he was using someone else's name. But now that he was
committed, he didn't know how to untangle the situation without making
things worse. Besides, as much as he didn't want to admit it, he hadn't
felt this alive in years.
He glanced at the clock: 6:45, and still no Chloe. "Where the hell is
everyone around here?"
Ben laughed. "Looks like they're gone. Which is good, since the sooner
we leave and head over to the
car rental place, the better."
"I've got to meet with someone first." Scowling, the elder Prescott
glanced at his watch again. "Where
is she?"
Ben craned his neck back and looked around the empty building. "Who?"
"Chloe."
"Really?" He glanced around her office. "Where is she?"
Irritated, Sterling tugged at his cuffs. "That's what I'd like to know."
A lone office light flicked off down the hall. Julia emerged, pulling
the door shut behind her.
Ben instantly grew alert, a smooth coolness sliding through him, making
Sterling see for the first time the man who had become an undercover
agent. But this coolness wasn't the sort of reaction that a man on the
hunt would exhibit. Ben looked like he didn't know what to make of the
wild beauty.
Julia came toward them, her leopard print purse swinging on her
shoulder, her heels so high that it was
a wonder she could walk. But no question Ben was looking her over.
Julia looked Ben directly in the eye, and Sterling would have sworn
that the beauty was self-conscious. But then she preened for the
younger Prescott, as if she knew he was studying her and she was
enjoying every minute of it. But Sterling was too concerned about other
matters to give it much thought.
"Julia," he said, breaking into whatever was going on between those
two. "I'm supposed to meet Chloe
at six-thirty. She's not here."
"True, she isn't," she responded, though she smiled wickedly at Ben.
"Where is she?"
Without ever looking at him, she said, "It's Tuesday, which means she's
at
World's Gym
. We all go on
Tuesdays. Though I'm running late. There's a new, incredibly cute
instructor for the six-thirty and seven-thirty kickboxing classes."
Julia shifted her gaze to Sterling. "Chloe has a crush on him. She
wouldn't miss Tuesday Kick for anything. Gotta run if I'm going to make
it to the next session."
Julia walked past the men and headed out of the building.
Both men watched her go, though it wasn't Julia who Sterling saw in his
mind's eye.
"Come on, let's go," he commanded, already grabbing his briefcase and
heading out the door.
"Where are we going?"
"To the damned gym."
Sterling ignored his brother's lamenting groan.
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