All ONES: The Complete Collection Page 18

  He hands me a printed copy of an email. My stomach twists with the similarities in the accusations. The stark difference is that the instance described on the page doesn't include one of the owners of our company nor did I witness it.

  I don't know if the woman is the same one who was with Duncan. I never saw her face and he's never told me her name. That doesn't mean I don't know her. She's the same woman who I saw with Timothy at the New Year's Eve party. However, Timothy works in another department and they weren't at work. The man accusing Carla of sexual advances also works in accounting—the same department as her—and is figuratively under her in classification and responsibilities. She's his manager, his supervisor. His claims can't be ignored.

  "What are you going to do?" I ask.

  "First..."

  The meeting and day fly by in a whirlwind of fires as I race around with my extinguisher. In all my time at Buchanan and Willis, it is the first time I imagine myself as a hamster on a wheel. I am running at top speed and yet I'm barely catching up. Though I wasn't directly involved in the solution of this morning's emergency meeting, I understood why Eric called it. Accusations like that can't be ignored. It is important that the entire department is aware of what is happening.

  By nearly five o'clock, all I've managed in the way of food is several cups of coffee and a protein bar from my drawer.

  They really aren't bad, but by the end, the chewing is difficult.

  "Kimbra?"

  I turn to Eric's voice. "Yes?"

  "Is everything all right? It's not like you to come to a meeting unprepared."

  I bite my tongue. "It isn't like me. As I said, I was out of state."

  He tilts his head. "Is there anything else? Anything that I should know?"

  "Like what? I'm nearly caught up. You and Mr. Buchanan took care of the employee we discussed in the meeting. I sat with Lee while he spoke to Maxwell. We filled you in. What else do you want to know?" I don't mean to be defensive, but his question seems odd.

  "I wanted to ask you something...I know this place is full of rumors, but they aren't usually about you."

  "Rumors? About me?"

  Eric leans back against my desk and crosses his arms. "I heard something today after the confrontations."

  "What and from whom?"

  "I heard that maybe you should have recused yourself from the situation this morning."

  "Maxwell's claims? Why wouldn't I do my job?"

  "Kimbra, do you have a history with Carla Toney?"

  My teeth clench. "Nothing that will affect my ability to be fair-minded."

  "I hope that's true. Someone said something about an axe to grind."

  "Was it her?"

  "No. It's just that if there's a history that I should know about—"

  "Have I ever not done my job?"

  Eric's hands raise in the universal sign of surrender. "I was just asking. Maybe it's something else that seems different. You mentioned something about your roommate last week. Is everything all right?"

  I let out a breath as out of the corner of my eye I see Duncan approaching my cubicle. My lip disappears between my teeth as I struggle to keep my eyes on Eric and not drool at the way Duncan's sexy grin gazes my way. Even after a full day of work, he's still sex on a stick. I can't decide if I like his work suit or jeans better. Before I can contemplate my answer, knowing that without either is my number-one choice, I remember to speak. "Um. Eric, thank you. Shana hasn't moved yet. Her flight was delayed by the hurricane."

  My manager nods toward my computer as if it contains a radar screen to show me the weather. "Yeah, apparently, the airlines are all backed up. It's coming up the coast. I'm surprised you didn't have any issues with your flights."

  "Good evening," Duncan says before I get the chance to respond. He gazes my way before greeting Eric with a hearty handshake.

  "Mr. Willis?" Eric asks as his Adam's apple bobs. "Is there any problem?"

  Duncan shakes his head. "No, Eric. No problem. Miss Jones? Is there a problem?"

  "My long weekend put me terribly behind."

  "Yes, holidays can do that. However, the clock has struck five. I believe it's time to leave."

  I look toward Eric. "I think you handled the situation appropriately this morning. The facts were clear-cut. I support your decision. My personal feelings didn't have any bearing."

  "Nice work," Duncan says to Eric. "A thumbs-up from Miss Jones for appropriate behavior is not an easy accomplishment."

  Shit! What is he doing?

  Eric glances between the two of us as his smile thins. "Is there more that I'm missing?"

  "Only that it's after five and time to go."

  "Good night, Eric."

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Kimbra

  "Duncan?" I whisper as I open my drawer and reach for my purse. "That isn't the way to keep it professional. You realize..." I lift my head higher, peeking over the partition and scanning the room and other cubicles. "...that tomorrow others will—"

  Duncan reaches for my hand. "Miss Jones, you'll accompany me out of this office and this building right this instant or tomorrow the other people in this department, as well as our security staff, will be talking about what I'm about to do to you. I've been thinking about you and my desk all day." His green eyes sparkle as he eyes my messy desk. "I may have to clear everything to the floor, but yours would work as well as mine."

  I take a deep breath as my insides pinch. As much as I want to be concerned about Eric, I can't seem to think about anyone but the incredibly handsome man looking at me as if I'm his dinner. "Fine. Where are we going?"

  His lustful tone of two seconds ago is replaced with excitement. "A surprise for our first date."

  "You know, Shana and I have this system about first dates."

  "Do tell?"

  "If it's a disaster, we send the other a text with our secret word. The other one then calls with a fake emergency and it's our out."

  Duncan shakes his head as we wait for the elevator. "My ego will be so hurt if Shana has a legitimate problem tonight."

  My smile grows. "Before Indiana, she told me that I'd already had my first date with you, at the bar at Gaston's."

  He shakes his head. "I enjoyed that night, talking with you, cracking your veneer, but, beautiful, tonight is a date. Tonight you get the royal Duncan Willis treatment."

  "I like the sound of that."

  When Pierce finally stops the car, I gaze out the window. We're in front of the same building where I met Shana over two weeks ago. "Gaston's?" I ask.

  Duncan nods. "I may have talked to Shana. I heard the same story about our talk at the bar. I want you to have that real first date."

  As another piece of my heart falls into his hands, I remember the question I asked myself, if Duncan would be more hands-on if we were real. "You spoke to Shana?"

  "Yes. Does that surprise you?"

  "Yes. I thought Jorge did all your bidding."

  "He helps, but some things need the personal touch."

  "I like a personal touch." I think about Gaston's. "How did you get the reservation?"

  He winks. "Anything for you."

  Just before the door to the car opens, I look down at my pale green dress. I'm happy with his answer, it's just my dress. Just once I'd like to know I'm going to this restaurant and be prepared.

  Duncan leans in and kisses me. "Stop. You're beautiful."

  "It's just that..."

  "No."

  The sidewalk is alive with people rushing from here to there. Duncan scoots out first and offers me his hand. "No more professionalism, Miss Jones. If I don't have your hand in mine, I need to be touching you in some way. Prepare to be manhandled—by one man—for the rest of the night."

  "Is that part of the Duncan Willis royal treatment?"

  "Don't worry. There's more where that came from."

  My smile widens and the twisting in my tummy increases as my blood rushes to my core. I lift my hand to his. Once we're alo
ne on the private elevator, I lean close and whisper. "I don't think I'm supposed to enjoy the prospect of manhandling as much on a first date. My mother would call it inappropriate."

  Duncan laughs, stalking toward me, moving me with each step until my back is against the mirrored wall of the elevator. "Maybe..." He grazes the side of my breast. "But I'd wager that your grandma would approve."

  He pins me with his trim body as his caress becomes more intense. My giggle disappears, swallowed by his kisses. As my eyes close and our tongues unite, I make a mental note to ride more elevators with Duncan Willis.

  When we reach the top, he backs away. His hand reaches for mine and squeezes. "I think I have that first-date issue covered."

  Before I can get my bearings from the way his intoxicating kiss sent me off-kilter or ask what he means, the doors open and in a few steps, we're greeted by the young hostess.

  Just like before, the spectacular restaurant shimmers. From the ceiling to the candles upon the tables, sparks reflect in a show of light. Through the wall of windows, Manhattan adds to the grandeur coming to life as the pink and purple sun meets the horizon.

  With each step through the crowd, I’m keenly aware of female heads turning and watching as Duncan walks by. This is new to me. At least my family didn't ogle. It’s the same way Shana looked at him the night he stopped at our table. The gazes fixed on him contain both awe and lust. I want to be upset, to stick out my tongue and tell each drooling woman that Duncan Willis is mine. However, I don't, because of him. He's the one who stops me. Not literally. Instead, it's his attention to only me. As if, with his hand possessively in the small of my back, he doesn't even notice the sea of lust-filled eyes.

  When we reach our table near the tall windows, there is a long-stemmed rose lying upon the plate of the place setting where the hostess pulls back the chair. With a quick scan from side to side, I look for roses at other tables, but see none.

  "Your seat, madam," the hostess says.

  Before I can question why I have the flower, Duncan lifts the rose and stares my direction with a knowing smirk. Once the hostess places my napkin in my lap and is gone, Duncan hands me the flower as his green gaze drinks me in.

  "For our first date."

  I reach for the rose, staring not at it, but at the eyes intently watching my every move. I can’t explain it. Somehow each flower since we've returned to New York feels different than the others, like these are real and honest. Tears threaten at the back of my eyes.

  "Thank you. This is…not pretend?”

  His expression morphs from happy to stern. "I never want to hear you use that word again."

  I nod.

  "Kimbra, I don't know what you've done to me, what spending this last weekend with you has done, but whatever it is, it's not pretend. Honestly, it's not even fantasy. I could never have created fantasies that would live up to the real you.” He leans across the table, his volume and tone softening so that only I can hear. Though his voice is merely a whisper, the timbre reverberates deep to my core. “Beautiful, you’ve been my wet dream for so long that I’m struggling with the reality that you’re more than that. You're more than I made you up to be. It's true that I want to fuck you…” His eyes glisten with lust. "...over and over. But that's not all. I also want to be with you every day and say inappropriate things so that your cheeks turn red. I’m obsessed with the way you blush. I want today plus-one, and one more, and more until...I don't know. You are my reality. Pretend is now out of our vocabulary."

  My heart skips a beat as I manage his name. "Duncan..." The one-word response floats in the air as a waiter appears to pour water and ask about our drink selections.

  As he and Duncan discuss the wine selection, my mind floods with the truth of his words. I too have lusted after him, after the man who should grace the cover of GQ. His image was enough to help me come with the help of my vibrator as I imagined his face and body. But now he’s more. He’s layered and complicated. Sexy and sweet. Since the incident in the bathroom, I've been privy to the real Duncan Willis.

  When the waiter walks away, I realize how the image of Duncan from before pales in comparison to the real man, the one who laughs at my family's inappropriate comments and asks my grandma to dance, the one who was hurt at a young age and learned to cope by filling the void physically, but never emotionally.

  "You were saying?" he asks, his emerald eyes glowing, golden flecks reflecting the flame of the candle on our table.

  "I was thinking that you seem to have rather intimate knowledge of me, considering this is our first date.” It’s my turn to lean forward. “Tell me, Mr. Willis, have you been stalking me?”

  “Yes,” he answers without hesitation.

  The way he looks at me tightens my insides, making any inhibitions that I should have regarding spending the night with him after only a first real date disappear.

  “Can I tell you that yesterday on the plane, I wasn’t sure…” I take a deep breath and lay the rose next to my place setting. "When you said you wanted to keep this...deal going."

  "Kimbra." Duncan reaches across the table and covers my hand. "If this is about what I told you..."

  I shake my head. "It isn't. It's about me." Tears blur my vision as I go on. "You're still the sexy, smart man I've admired from afar."

  His eyebrows jump. "You've admired me? So I’m not the only one with wet dreams?"

  "Shut up," I say with a grin. "But even when I tricked you into being my plus-one..." He starts to object, and I go on, speaking over him. "...or you seized the opportunity..." He nods. "...I had no idea what to expect. What I didn't expect was to fall deeper under your spell. I mean, you put up with my family. You stood up for me when Kevin gave me a hard time. You watched out for my cousin. You completely wooed my grandma and made me see that even if I'm not Scarlett, who I am is okay. And then, when I expected you to walk away, you asked me for more."

  "Kimbra, you’re not just okay. You are so beyond okay." Duncan squeezes my hand.

  "I need to ask you something. Do you remember my telling you that I have an issue with cheating, how when I first invited you, told you about the bachelor party, how I asked you to please not do anything that my brother or cousins would see? Remember how happy I was when I walked into that club?"

  "Not as happy as I was to see you."

  "Do you remember?"

  "Yes."

  "The reason Timothy and I broke up was because after the company Christmas party, we attended another party for New Year’s Eve.” I bite the inside of my lip as I recall the scene. “There were a lot of Buchanan and Willis employees there. I lost track of Timothy. When I found him—"

  "You don't have to tell me any more," Duncan says.

  I go on. "As you can probably figure out, he wasn't alone. He was with someone from Buchanan and Willis."

  Duncan's eyes open wide. "Who? Do I know her?"

  "I would suppose. Don't you know all your employees?"

  "Not as well as my HR department."

  "She works in accounting—"

  "Accounting?" Duncan's complexion pales.

  "Yes. Today..." Before I can say any more, the waiter is back with our salads.

  Duncan lifts his wine glass. "In the future, I think I'll enjoy being able to talk shop with you. Tonight, however, I'm supposed to woo a beautiful woman on a first date."

  I push away my concerns over Carla and Maxwell as well as Eric's comment about my having an axe to grind. Instead, I simply nod and lift my glass, meeting his halfway across the table. They unite with a clink.

  Throughout the multiple courses of delicious food, we talk and laugh. He tells me more about Mike and Kelli. We discuss my family and his. It’s so much more than a first date—no moments of uncomfortable silence or uncertainty of where this will lead. As we finish our meal, I gaze out the windows at the city and back at the man whose eyes are only on me and think how amazing it all is. How I'm living my dream.

  Duncan looks up from his phone. "Pier
ce will be outside in a few minutes." He stands and offers me his hand. "Now, tell me, Miss Jones, did you enjoy our first date?"

  “Immensely, Mr. Willis. No emergency call from Shana.” I feel my eyes sparkle with anticipation. “Is it over?"

  "It is. I apologize for the rush..."

  My eyes open wide.

  "You see, I was told that spending the night together is inappropriate on a first date." He shrugs. "Who knew?"

  I laugh. "I thought you liked inappropriate."

  "I do, but I'm in this for the long haul. Therefore, Pierce is on his way to whisk us off to date number two."

  "On the same night?"

  He nods as he leads me toward the elevator. "Next stop, Central Park."

  "A carriage ride?"

  "If you want. As long as the rain holds off, there's a concert tonight. I thought we could take a blanket and enjoy that for an hour or two."

  "An hour or two?" I try to hide the wanton lust from my voice. I was the one who told Kevin that quick isn't always better. Nevertheless, I'm ready to get this second date on and over.

  After the elevator doors close and we make our descent, Duncan whispers, "Or ten minutes. You tell me, Miss Jones, how long is long enough to qualify as date number two, because as I said, before tonight is over you're ending up back in my apartment."

  "Only if you promise inappropriate things."

  I suck in a breath as he reaches for me and blatantly caresses my breast with the palm of his hand. Though his touch is separated by layers of material, my nipple beads and panties dampen. "O-oh." We are behind another couple, yet the way their footing shifts, I'm sure they have an idea of what just occurred.

  Duncan's grin sparkles. "I promise a lot more where that came from."

  A lot.

  "A half hour," I whisper as we get into the car.

  Duncan nods as he speaks to Pierce, "Drop us off near the entrance on Fifty-ninth and be back in thirty minutes."

  "Thirty, sir?"