can’t be serious,” she said in a strangled voice.
Eric raised an eyebrow at her. A couple extra thousand for him was nothing. Pocket change. “How about a hundred and forty-five?”
She got alarmingly pale. “Your negotiation skills are rusty,” she finally croaked out, a hand pressed to her chest. “You’re not supposed to go up, certainly not by twenty-five thousand. A hundred and twenty is enough. More than enough.”
Eric cracked a grin at her. “And your negotiation skills...” He trailed off, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “That would’ve been the point to say make it one fifty and it’s a deal. Are you sure you sold houses?” She got even paler and he realized teasing her was not the smartest thing to do. In fact, she looked like she was on the verge of fainting. “Are you all right?” He moved to the wet bar and grabbed a bottle of sparkling water. She was breathing heavily by the time he made his way back to her. “Sofia?”
He set the water on the desk and put his fingers on the side of her neck. Her pulse fluttered weakly under his touch and her skin was clammy. “Breathe,” he ordered, pushing her head down toward her knees. He crouched next to her. “Sofia? Honey, breathe.”
They sat like that for several minutes while he rubbed her back and tried his best to sound soothing. What the hell had happened? Normally, when he offered people more money, they jumped to say yes.
But this woman had actually tried to say no.
He focused on smoothing her hair away from her forehead, on how her muscles tensed and relaxed along her spine as he rubbed her back. Even through her jacket, he could feel the warmth of her body. He couldn’t imagine touching anyone else like this.
She was still struggling for air. Was this a medical crisis? He felt for her pulse again. It was steady enough. He needed to distract her. “Remember the sailboat races?” he asked. But he didn’t pull his hand away from her. He stayed close.
“Yes,” she said softly. “You let me win sometimes.”
“Let you? Come on, Sofia. You beat me fair and square.”
Her head popped up, a shaky grin on her face. “You’re being kind,” she said, her voice strangely quiet.
Eric realized there was less than a foot between them. If he wanted to kiss her, all he’d have to do was lean forward.
It came back to him in a rush—he’d kissed her once before, when they were kids. He’d had Marcus Warren over and Marcus had dared Eric to kiss her. So he had. And she’d let him.
Somehow, Eric knew that if he kissed her now, it wouldn’t be a timid touching of lips. This time, he’d taste her, dipping his tongue into her mouth and savoring her sweetness. He’d take possession of her mouth and, God willing, she’d...
He jerked back so quickly he almost landed on his butt. “Here,” he said gruffly, snagging the bottle of water off his desk and wrenching the cap off.
What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn’t be thinking about Sofia Cortés like that. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t the same innocent little kid. It didn’t even matter that she’d been married and had children. He couldn’t think of her like that.
He’d just hired her.
She took the water but didn’t look him in the eye. “I didn’t realize how expensive those toy boats were until we sank the loser that one time. Which was me, of course.”
“You were a worthy opponent but that avalanche was unavoidable,” he replied. He barely remembered the boat. But he did remember the sheer glee when they’d hit the boat with a decorative stone so large it’d taken both of them to toss it. The splash had been huge. “You have to admit it was fun.”
That got her to meet his gaze. “How old were we? I still remember the horror in my mom’s eyes when she caught us.”
“I was ten, I think. Old enough to know better, I was informed.” His parents had been more than a little exasperated with him, but his dad hadn’t been able to stop snickering when Eric had described the rockslide. “It was only a couple hundred dollars. No big deal.”
Well, that and his parents had made him get every single rock out of the pool. His mother was of the opinion that they didn’t need the pool boy to suffer for Eric’s foolishness. Still, it had taken three people to get the boulder out of the deep end.
Sofia rolled her eyes at him, which made him grin. “Maybe to you. My mother was horrified that we’d have to pay it back somehow.” She was talking to him now, sounding more like the Sofia he remembered. “There was no way we could have afforded that. Not then.”
“That’s why I took the blame.” He leaned against the desk, his arms crossed over his chest. He wished they weren’t in this office. He’d give anything to be out on the lake this morning. There, with the sun on his face and the wind in his hair, he’d be able to think clearly. Here, his mind was muddled.
She looked at him again. Her color was better and she seemed...well, not like the girl he’d known. But maybe someone he could still be friends with.
Friends who didn’t kiss, that was.
“You always were,” she murmured before she took another deep drink of the water.
“Were what?”
“Kind. One of the kindest people I’d ever known.” She dropped her gaze. “You still are. This job...” She swallowed.
Kind? This wasn’t kind. This was calculated. He was building loyalty and ensuring morale. This was keeping an eye on his business. And if it didn’t work out, well—he’d show her kind. He’d have her out of her buttoned-up jacket and skirt so fast her head would spin.
He laughed at his own thoughts, a bitter sound. “I’m not. I’m ruthless. A coldhearted bastard of the first order. Don’t you read the headlines?”
Eric stared at her for a long moment, a dare in his eyes. Then he turned away and went to admire his view of the lake. The way he looked, silhouetted against the window, his shoulders broad and his hair curling gently just above the collar of his shirt—to say nothing of his backside in those custom-made pants...
She had seen the headlines, of course. He’d been left at the altar. He’d been named one of the “Top Five Billionaire Bachelors of Chicago.” He’d been ruthless in his business dealings. But none of that was who he really was.
Was it?
Even if life had changed them both, she knew that deep down, they were still the same people they’d been back when they’d been kids. He wasn’t a heartless bastard, no matter what people might say.
Heartless bastards wouldn’t have rubbed her back when she’d had a panic attack. They wouldn’t have gotten her water. They would have laughed her and her crippling anxiety right out of the office and slammed the door in her face.
Heartless bastards wouldn’t have looked like they were going to kiss her
