Royal Seductions: Secrets: The Duke's Boardroom Affair. Michelle Celmer

       Seven

      So much for keeping her distance from Charles.

      As promised, he sent his car to fetch Victoria before work the next morning. When she heard the knock at her flat door, she just assumed it was the driver coming up to get her. But when she opened the door, Charles stood there.

      He leaned casually against the doorjamb, looking attractive and fit in a charcoal pinstripe suit, a grin on his face. And not a trace of the ill ease he’d worn like a shroud the night before.

      “Good morning,” he said, then added, “Victoria.”

      Okay. “Good morning…Charles.”

      “I thought you would be impressed. I remembered your name.”

      He’d apparently taken what she said to heart. She was genuinely and pleasantly surprised. It didn’t last long, though.

      “I’d say that I deserve a reward,” he said, with an exaggerated wiggle of his brows.

      The man was a shameless flirt, and though she hated to admit it, his teasing and innuendo wasn’t nearly as offensive as it used to be.

      And to be fair, he had remembered her name right from the start. Which meant nothing when she considered that she and her father were the topic of many a conversation prior to her employment with him. Of course he would remember her.

       You’re rationalizing, Vic.

      The best response was no response at all.

      “I just need to grab my jacket,” she said. “Wait right here.”

      She dashed off to her bedroom, grabbed her suit jacket, and slipped it on. She was gone less than a minute, but when she returned to the door, it was closed and he wasn’t there.

      Had he gone back to the car?

      “Nice view,” she heard him say, and turned to find him standing in her cluttered living room gazing out the window.

      He was in her flat.

      The fact that it was in total disarray notwithstanding, he was just so there. Such a distinct and overpowering presence in a room that until that very moment had always felt open and spacious. Now they might as well have been locked in a closet together for the lack of breathing room.

       Just relax. This is not as bad as it seems. You’re completely overreacting.

      She folded her arms across her chest, doing her best to sound more annoyed than nervous. “You don’t take direction well, do you?”

      He turned to her and smiled, and she felt it like a sucker punch to her belly. The worst part was that she was pretty sure he knew exactly what that smile was doing to her. And he had intended exactly that.

       You just had to kiss him, didn’t you?

      He gestured out the window. “You have an ocean view.”

      Barely. Only a few snippets of blue through the buildings across the road. Nothing like the view from his home. Although it was looking decidedly more pleasing with him standing there.

      Ugh. She really had to stop these random, destructive thoughts.

      “I don’t recall inviting you inside,” she said.

      “Yeah, you might want to work on those manners.”

      She shook her head. “God, you’re arrogant.”

      He just grinned and gestured to the city street below. “How do you like living in the heart of the city?”

      It was different. Her father’s estate, their estate, had been in a rural setting, but she’d spent the majority of her time working in the city. A home in the bay area seemed the logical choice. “It’s…convenient. Besides, I needed a change of pace. A place that didn’t remind me of everything I’ve lost.”

      She cringed inwardly. Why had she told him that? It was too personal. Too private. She didn’t want him getting the idea that she liked him. She didn’t want to like him.

      He nodded thoughtfully. “And how is that working out for you?”

      Lousy, but he probably already figured that out.

      “I’m ready to go.” She walked to the door, grabbing her keys and purse from the table.

      He didn’t follow her. He just stood there, grinning, as though he knew something she didn’t. “What’s the rush?” he asked.

      She looked at her watch. “It’s eight-twenty.”

      He shrugged. “So?”

      “Isn’t the car waiting?”

      “It’s not going anywhere without us.”

      She didn’t like the way he was looking at her. Or maybe the real problem was she liked it too much. Yesterday she would have considered his probing gaze and bone-melting grin offensive, but this morning it made her feel all warm and mushy inside.

      Kissing him had definitely been bad idea.

      “I’ve been doing some thinking,” he said, taking a few casual steps toward her.

      Her heart climbed up in her throat, but she refused to let him see how nervous he was making her. “About?”

      “Last night.”

      She was tempted to ask, Which part? but she had the sinking feeling she already knew. So instead she asked, in what she hoped was a bored and disinterested tone, “And?”

      He continued in her direction, drawing closer with every step. “I think I’ve had a change of heart.”

       Uh-oh.

      She hoped he meant that he’d had a change of heart about the way he objectified the opposite sex, but somehow she didn’t think so.

      “Now that I know what I’ll be missing, maybe I won’t be cooperating with the family after all.”

      Oh, yeah, kissing him had been a really bad idea.

      He was coming closer, that look in his eyes, like any second he planned to ravish her. And the part that really stunk was that she wanted him to. Desperately. She had assumed that playing the role of the aggressor last night, socking it to him when he was all confused and vulnerable—and a little bit adorable—would somehow put her in a position of control.

      Boy, had she been wrong.

      He’d managed to turn the tables on her. At that moment, she’d never felt more out of control in her life. And the really frightening thing was, she kind of liked it.

      “I mean, what’s the worst that will happen?” he said.

      Hopefully something really bad. “Hanging?”

      He was standing so close now that he could reach out and touch her. And though every instinct she possessed was screaming for her to back away, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of so much as a flinch.

      “And then I got to thinking.” He leaned in, his face so close to hers she could smell the toothpaste on his breath. “Who says they even have to know?”

      Bloody hell, was she in trouble. If he decided to kiss her right now, she would have no choice but to kiss him back. And then he would know the truth. That she wasn’t nearly as rigid as she’d led him to believe.

      His eyes locked on hers. Deep brown irises with flecks of black that seemed