Dream of You (13 page)

"I'm going to do it." She tapped her pencil
against her nose a few times and then lit into the paper.

Lola got out her laptop and wrote too, but
about a different type of conquering that involved velvety, moist
spots.

An hour later, Madison held up her pages
triumphantly. "I've got my first draft, and it's awesome."

"Good." Lola closed the lid on her laptop.
"Because it's past your bedtime."

The girl pouted. "I'm not sleepy though."

Lola didn't want to be an ogre, but she
didn't want to be a pushover either. So she said, "Get ready for
bed and maybe we can watch part of a movie in bed on my
laptop."

"Okay." Madison jumped up eagerly and ran
off.

Lola followed more slowly, straightening up a
little on the way. By the time she found Madison's room in the
back, the girl was in her pjs and climbing in bed.

She looked around the room, impressed. Sam
had done a nice job of giving his daughter a space of her own. She
could see Madison's personality in the superhero posters and the
furry white bedspread and rug. "Your room is great."

"I know, right?" She pulled the covers up to
her chest. "Daddy said I could do whatever I wanted. Within
reason."

Lola grinned at what was obviously Sam's
lingo. "What was outside reason?"

"Black walls." The girl shrugged. "It'd have
looked cool."

Lola settled on the bed next to Madison,
leaning against the headboard. "What type of movies do you
like?"

"Action movies. And westerns." At Lola's
questioning look, the girl shrugged. "My dad likes them."

"I like dance movies. Have you ever seen
Step Up
, or
Step Up 2
?"

Madison shook her head.

Her mouth dropped open in exaggerated shock.
"What? How about
Footloose
? The remake of course."

"No."

"
Dirty Dancing
?"

"No."

"Oh my God. I'm going to have to speak to
your father about your lack of education on this." She opened her
laptop and pulled up her movie directory. "
Dirty Dancing
is
a classic, but we don't have enough time to watch it."

"A classic like Butch Cassidy and the
Sundance Kid?" At Lola's questioning look, Madison just said,
"That's one of Daddy's favorite movies."

"Figures." She opened the file. "You have to
watch
Dirty Dancing
all the way through, beginning to end,
so we'll do that another night. But we can watch a couple dance
snippets from
Step Up 2
. Like the beginning on the subway,
the club scene, and the end, I think."

She'd watched them so many times she found
the scenes without any trouble. The story lines in the
Step
Up
movies weren't the highest quality, but the dance sequences
and the music were great.

As soon as it started, her foot began to tap.
Just like always when she watched them—and she watched them
often—she felt like hopping up and trying out the moves herself,
even if she knew she'd look ridiculous.

By the end of the third scene, Madison was on
her knees, avidly watching and just as excited.

Good girl, Lola thought fondly.

The girl groaned in disappointment when Lola
closed her laptop. "Let's watch them again. That was awesome."

"How about if we make a movie date? You guys
can come over and we'll torture your dad with them."

Madison giggled. "Okay."

"Bedtime?"

"I'll just read a little." She picked up a
book from the bedside table and crawled into bed. "Will you tuck me
in?"

Lola's heart flopped. She'd never seen
herself as a mom, but this she could do. She tucked Madison under
the covers and ran a hand over her hair. "I'll be in the living
room if you need me."

"Okay." The girl was already engrossed in
reading. Right before Lola walked out, Madison said, "Tonight was
fun, Lola. I'm glad you were here."

"Me too," she said softly and closed the door
behind her.

Sam came home to a still house.

The light was on in the living room. He
peeked in, finding Lola asleep on the couch, her laptop still open
on her legs.

He liked seeing her there. It made his chest
fill with a warmth he hadn't felt—well, ever, really.

Not wanting to analyze it, he went back to
check on Madison. She'd fallen asleep with the lights on, a book
her hand—typical for her. He set the book aside and kissed her
forehead before turning off her light and returning to Lola.

She was sleeping so peacefully, he didn't
want to disturb her. But as he lifted the computer from her lap,
she stirred. "Sam?"

He sat on the couch and gathered her into his
arms, so she snuggled half on top of him. "Was everything okay
tonight? Madison didn't give you trouble?"

She looked up with a sleepy frown. "I can't
believe you've never shown her
Dirty Dancing
."

Stroking her hair, he grinned. "That's what
you took away from the evening?"

"That and that you really are a cowboy."

"What?"

"Nothing."

He shrugged. Maybe she was still dreaming.
"Did you get any work done, or did I totally disrupt your
night."

"I wrote a chapter, actually." She yawned and
burrowed her head closer. "Madison had homework, so we wrote
together. She's a good kid, Sam."

She really was. "She's inconvenient at the
moment though."

"How so?" Lola asked, looking at him.

He stroked her hair. "I'd like nothing better
than to carry you to my bed, undress you, and make slow, passionate
love to you. But I can't with Madison in the room next door."

"This is the part where I'm supposed to say
it's just as nice snuggling on the couch and talking with you, but
that'd be a lot of crap." She ran her hand inside the collar of his
shirt. "I'd rather be naked in bed with you, too."

"Next time," he promised.

She smiled up at him. "Very soon."

It was super late. Not quite midnight,
Kristin saw on her laptop's clock. Way too late to call Rob,
especially since he woke up so early.

She still wanted to.

It'd probably just go to voicemail. He seemed
like the sensible type who'd silence his phone when he went to
sleep so he wouldn't be disturbed.

She looked at her computer screen. She
did
have a question to ask him about his database. But
really, she just wanted to hear his voice. It'd been a few days
since they had that "business meeting" in his dining room, and she
missed him. She hadn't even gotten to flirt with him when he came
in for his morning coffee because she'd been scheduled for the
afternoon shift.

Grabbing her phone, she called the number
he'd given her. She waited, expecting it to go directly to
voicemail.

"Hello?"

She blinked. "Rob?"

"Kristin?" There was a frown in his tired
voice. "Are you okay?"

"I'm great. What are you doing up? I was
going to leave a message."

"Do you want me to hang up?"

She grinned at the humor in his voice.
"That's okay. I'll just ask you in person. Unless you're trying to
sleep."

"To be honest, I'm having trouble falling
asleep."

She heard a rustle. Sheets? Was he in bed?
She pictured him there, stretching under the covers. "Do you wear
pajamas?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you wear pajamas to bed?" she
repeated.

"Why? Do you think that's why I can't fall
asleep?"

"We could take them off and find out."

He paused. For a moment she thought he was
going to tell her she stepped over some line, but she was so happy
when he said, "I've never been sexually harassed by someone working
for me."

"I'm glad I'm a first." She closed her
laptop. "You know what helps when you can't sleep?"

"What?"

"Sex. But maybe we should start off slower,
like with a walk."

"Right now?"

"Well, yeah." She reached for her flip-flops.
"I'll meet you in front of the Ferry Building in fifteen."

She'd expected him to make excuses, but he
surprised her by saying, "See you there."

She was already on her feet. She wouldn't
bother changing out of her pajamas—he might as well see her in her
natural state—but her hair was a mess. She redid her ponytail and
then swiped gloss onto her lips to make them shiny and
inviting.

Grabbing a hoodie and a scarf, she ran out of
her house and to her car. She didn't drive much because public
transportation was easier than parking in the city, but at this
time of night in her neighborhood there were no buses, and it'd
take at least half an hour for a cab to arrive.

She parked her Porsche a couple blocks away,
far enough so Rob wouldn't see her in with it. It was a short walk
up Embarcadero to the Ferry Building, where he leaned against a
column, waiting for her.

Her girlie parts began to party, and that
voice inside sighed and said,
Yes, HIM
.

She wanted to run up to him and throw her
arms around him, to kiss the bejesus out of him, but she knew how
he felt about fraternizing with the help, so she planned on
behaving herself as long as she was "working" for him.

So she sauntered up with a saucy grin. "Ready
for the sleep remedy?"

"Do I need to brace myself?" he asked as he
fell into step beside her.

"I'm breaking you in gently. This usually
works for mild cases of insomnia."

"You have trouble sleeping, too, then?"

Not since she quit working at Aspire. "I used
to."

"And whatever we're doing worked best?"

"We're walking briskly, but no, the best
remedy is hot, sweaty sex." She gauged his reaction. He was
thinking about it—imagining it. Good, because she imagined it a
lot, and why should he be exempt from the torture? "We'll try that
next, if we need to resort to drastic measures."

"I can't."

"You can't have sex?" She dropped her gaze to
his crotch.

"
No
." He scowled at her. "Not
that."

"Oh, good." She heaved a sigh of relief.
"Because that'd have made me sad."

"Think how it'd make me." He shook his head.
"I can't have sex with you. You're working for me. I told you that
already."

"I'm just doing one little tech thing, and
that'll be over soon." Then watch out.

"You're working for me," he insisted, "and I
never overstep the employer-employee boundary."

"You've never dated anyone you've worked
with?" she asked curiously.

"No."

She hadn't either, but she'd know plenty of
her executive team who'd broken that taboo. It never turned out
well, and there were plenty of fish outside the work tank. "I like
that you're principled, even if it puts a temporary dent in my
plans."

"What plans?"

"To seduce you."

He kept pace with her, but his expression was
intent, like he was trying to cipher her out. Then, thoughtfully,
he said, "What would you do?"

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"To seduce me. What would you do?"

The intensity of his gaze made her catch her
breath. She felt the pull of his body and wanted to touch him, but
she managed to resist. She didn't trust herself not to mess the
moment up.

Besides, not touching him was turning her on.
She could see he wanted her, that
he
was picturing touching
her, and that was almost as good as the real thing.

"Well?" he prompted, his voice low with
desire.

"Maybe I'd tie you up," she said recklessly.
"I'd wait for you to come home from work and slip your tie right
off your neck and use it to bind your hands."

He didn't say anything.

Didn't he like that? Having him at her mercy
seemed pretty hot to her. She pictured kissing him all over and
knew her labored breathing wasn't from their brisk pace.

"That's the wrong picture."

She startled out of her erotic dream. "How do
you know what I was picturing?"

He gave her a baleful look. "You're the one
who'd be tied up, although I have a feeling it'd take more than one
tie to keep you still."

"So are you offering?"

"No. You're working for me," he repeated.

"And you don't tie up people who work for
you. I know." She held up a hand. "But I'm almost done.
Then
you can tie me up. I give you permission."

"You're not like anyone I've ever met."

"In a good way, I hope."

They walked in silence. She could tell he was
thinking, and she let him. Until she saw a bench at the end of a
pier. Unable to help herself, she took his hand. "This way."

He clasped it, caressing her fingers with his
thumb.

She pretended to goggle at him. "Hand-holding
doesn't break your moral code?"

"It should." He didn't let go.

Warmth flooded her. He liked her, too. This
was going to work out. She'd finish his database project and then
he'd see that she had his back and wanted to share his life, and
then they could have lots of sex and babies.

They reached the end of the pier and sat on
the bench. The wind whipped through her, and she scooted closer to
him for warmth.

"You need another layer," he said, taking off
the scarf around his neck and wrapping it around hers.

His scent enveloped her, and she inhaled it,
wanting to remember it forever.

Out of the blue, Rob asked, "Do you ever want
more than what you have?"

She shook her head. "I have so much."

He looked at her, confusion lining his
face.

She couldn't blame him. To him, she was a
destitute barista instead of a former tech mogul with more money
than Croesus. Frankly, there was only one thing she lacked. "I want
a baby," she admitted.

"That surprises me. I wouldn't have guessed
that from you."