Unbridled. Tori Carrington
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He lowered his chin and then brought it up slowly, making it evident that he was smelling her…and that he liked what he found. The top of his nose brushed against her cheek and she gasped slightly.
He stepped back, holding her gaze captive with his. “I’m a man who always honors his debts and I’ve come to pay mine.”
Laney blinked. “Debt…oh.” She appeared to have momentarily forgotten the circumstances of their first meeting. “All expenses surrounding your release have been taken care of.”
“Too vague. Who took care of the debt, Laney?”
“Mr. Armstrong.”
“And your connection to him would be?”
“Client.”
“Strictly?”
She smiled. “I don’t see how that impacts the situation, Mr. Southard.”
“Carter, please.” He was tempted to press his thigh between her legs, force her skirt up and pin her against that expensive desk of hers right there before the window. But he planned to drag the hot anticipation out as long as he could.
Besides, he wasn’t sure how far he could push her before she picked up the phone and called for security.
“Answer my question,” he insisted. “Brother?”
A corner of her mouth turned up. “Cousin.”
“Judging from your name, I’m guessing your mother’s side?” He cleared his throat. “Unless Cartwright is your married name.”
The other side of her mouth edged up until she was nearly smiling. “My mother’s side.”
He enjoyed the way she answered the question without answering the question.
Was she married? She wore no ring, but he’d met plenty of women who didn’t. Whether it was a barmaid trying to encourage better tips from customers who thought she was single and therefore free game, or a taxi driver who didn’t want to risk losing her ring at gunpoint, there were all sorts of reasons why women chose not to advertise their marital status.
Of course, a woman like Laney Cartwright wouldn’t want to promote it because the less you knew about her, the better leverage she had.
Carter looked forward to compromising that power in every way that he could.
Laney seemed to realize that the scales were tipped a little too heavily in his favor. So he wasn’t surprised when she walked back to the other side of her desk, breaking eye contact with him.
He half expected her to end the meeting. To give up the ghost and realize that indulging in a sexual duel with him benefited her not at all. Instead, she said, “I was about to head for lunch. Would you like to join me?”
He squinted at her.
She pressed the intercom button before he responded. “Violet? Have Raphael’s ready a table for two for lunch, please.”
And just like that the scales tipped back to her.
LANEY GREETED the maître d’ with a kiss to both cheeks, as if seeing an old friend. Which, in essence, she was, since she took so many of her meals at the exclusive French restaurant.
“Miss Laney, how especially beautiful you look today. I was afraid I would not see you after your secretary called earlier to cancel your luncheon plans.”
Pierre darted glances Carter’s way, as if half hoping that during the conversation Carter would disappear.
“I have your favorite table all ready for you, Ms. Cartwright.”
Laney swept her hand toward Carter. “Pierre, this is Mr. Southard. He’ll be dining with me today.”
She didn’t need to say more. Pierre looked as if someone had just hit him in his snobbish head with a two-foot-long salami. And Carter stared back at him as if he didn’t know whether to greet Pierre or hit him. He appeared prepared for both.
Laney hid her smile as Pierre explained to Carter that the restaurant had a dress code and asked if he wouldn’t mind choosing a suitable jacket from an array they had in the cloakroom.
Laney twisted her lips, pretending that she didn’t notice Carter’s discomfort while challenging him to react in the way he’d like to. Namely, storm out of the uptight place.
Instead, he motioned for Pierre to lead the way.
Moments later, he came out wearing a bright green blazer bearing the crest of an exclusive club on the breast pocket and a bright yellow tie. Laney couldn’t help laughing behind her hand. Not just at the garish combination, but at Pierre’s chagrin and Carter’s wide grin.
Pierre appeared exasperated as he led them to a table to the left, away from the kitchen and in front of the window, but he could do nothing as he watched Carter take the seat smack-dab where anyone passing could see him.
“Thank you, Pierre,” Laney said after he pulled out the other chair for her.
He usually thanked her back or at the very least told her to enjoy her lunch. This time, he just gave her a little bow and then scurried away as fast as his fashionably decked feet could carry him.
The waiter came immediately, not indicating one way or another whether Carter’s purposely chosen attire affronted him as he offered the wine list. Carter didn’t bother reading it but handed it back and requested a beer in a frosted glass.
Laney did the same.
“I’m impressed,” she said quietly, fingering the rim of her water glass and ignoring the stares from neighboring tables. “I figured you would have turned and left the instant Pierre informed you that you weren’t dressed properly.”
“Then it takes little to impress you.”
She enjoyed it when people acted contrary to her expectations. So few did. She could usually predict exactly what a person would say. And was disappointed when they did. So when she came across the odd man like Carter, she liked to linger in his company. Just to see what he would do next.
The waiter served their beer and then informed them of the specials. Laney didn’t have to look at the menu he handed her. She already knew every dish listed and what she would have. She was surprised when Carter didn’t bother to open his menu, either, instead holding her gaze as the waiter finished with the specials and looked to her.
She ordered salmon with rice and then raised her brow when it was Carter’s turn. He didn’t even blink as he said, “Give me a strip steak, grilled. Baked potato and salad with vinegar and oil. No gravies, no funny stuff I can’t identify. Just give it to me straight up.”
The waiter bowed slightly, took back the menus and disappeared.
If Laney had hoped to outmaneuver him by bringing him here, she’d failed. And she couldn’t have been happier.
“So,”