Into the Fire - Leslie Kelly [25]
"Looked more like oil and dipstick to me," J.T. mumbled. Lacey immediately cursed herself for providing him the opening. She glanced over her shoulder, praying Nate hadn't heard. He was looking at the ceiling, all wide-eyed innocence, a tiny grin playing about those much-too-kissable lips. He'd heard, the bastard. "That's not funny."
"Lighten up," her father said. "Put yourself in my position, why don't you? I've got the two hottest writers in the country working for my magazines. Your print war has done more to boost circulation than any special feature or advertising campaign we've ever launched."
"So why don't we keep up what we've been doing? I'm quite sure each of us has lots more to say without having to work together," Lacey said, almost desperate.
"The timing's right. It's the perfect setup. You're both professionals, so just resign yourselves and make this work"
Lacey heard J.T.'s seldom used I-will-brook-no-nonsense tone, the one he'd used on her the time she'd run away from home and made her way to his mansion in Baltimore as a teenager. Of course, that time his first reaction had been pure joy that she'd finally taken a stand against her conservative stepfather. Frustrated and defiant, she'd fled from her Indiana home as fast as her self-righteous fifteen-year-old legs could carry her. If she remembered correctly, that particular incident had been over a boy, a school dance and a red dress. J.T. had eventually sent her back, despite her pleas and her fit-throwing anger, using the same tone he was using now. She sighed in resignation.
"What do we get out of this?" Nate asked, his voice deceptively light. She'd almost forgotten he was there. Leave it to him to get right down to dollars and cents.
"Another bonus." J.T. held up the envelopes on his desk. "One that'll make this one look like a kid's bubblegum money."
Nate shrugged. Lacey watched him, wondering why an avaricious glint didn't immediately glow in those deceptive, gorgeous green eyes.
It had been awful sitting in the meeting with him. She'd forced herself to focus on J.T., trying not to glance over, not to let a blush stain her cheeks as memories of their interlude on the trampoline hit her again and again. She'd been able to think of little else all weekend. Though she'd refused to answer Raul's calls or to go into too many details with Venus, there was simply no way to erase Nate Logan from her mind. A memory couldn't be turned off like a phone or avoided like an intrusive question.
He'd charmed her. Intrigued her. Made her laugh. Made her burn. Made her mad as hell. Aroused her more than she'd ever been aroused in her entire life. And made love to her like something out of a seductive fantasy.
Lacey could still feel every touch, remember the weight of his body on hers and the incredible sense of tight fullness she'd experienced when he'd been buried deep inside her. Shuddering, she forced the mental image away, clamping her thighs together as her thoughts inspired her body to betray her.
J.T. noticed Nate's seeming disinterest in the financial side of his offer. "Well?"
Nate rose from his chair, unfolding his tall, lean body slowly, radiating the self-confidence that was such a part of him. Not wearing a tux today, he was almost more devastating dressed casually in jeans and a dark green shirt. Maybe not quite as devastating as he'd been in the robe the other night. Or beneath that robe. Oh, the man's body was the stuff orgasmic dreams were made of!
"Finances aren't always the bottom line," Nate finally said, his tone still calm, his voice still quiet.
Lacey snorted and nodded toward her father. "Don't try telling him that."
"What else is it you want?" J.T. leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of his barrel chest. Lacey saw the sparkle of anticipation in his eyes. He'd moved right into his negotiator pose. Her father loved to make deals. She'd learned by the end of her first two-week visit to his home at age thirteen never to play Monopoly with him.
Nate crossed the office and stood by the