Into the Fire - Leslie Kelly [26]
Lacey bit the corner of her lip to hide a laugh as her father cocked his head and tapped his fingers on his desk. J.T. oozed anxious impatience. She had to admit, Nate was handling him very well. Better than she had. J.T. raised a brow. "You want my office?"
"Nah," Nate said, turning to flash a devastating grin over his shoulder. The curve of his lips reminded her of his kisses, the way he'd licked the sensitive white skin below her nipples before dosing his mouth over her. The sensation of his tongue on her breasts had sent spirals of heat through her body to pool between her legs. She felt it again, just remembering. Lacey had to grab the back of a chair to steady herself.
"This view would be too distracting for writing," Nate continued. Though she knew he was talking about the outside view, he was staring right at her, an appreciative expression on his face, as he said it. She held the chair tighter.
"A raise? A trip to the company condo in Saint Croix?" J.T. asked. "What?"
Nate met her eye. "Company condo? Sounds interesting. But not really for me. I'm more of a ski vacation person."
J.T. blew out an impatient breath.
"So what is it you do want?" Lacey finally asked, unable to contain her curiosity. Dancing girls? A subscription to the hootchie of the month club? Me staked out naked near a fire ant nest, covered with honey?
His grin widened, and he gave her a tiny, flirtatious wink.
Another numbingly erotic mental image intruded. Me staked out naked covered with honey … in your bed?
"You know, writing columns is a good gig," Nate finally said. "But it's not exactly feature writing…"
Lacey understood where he was headed. A grudging smile of respect crossed her lips. "Now he gets to the point."
J.T. leaned back in his chair. "I'm not sure we need another feature writer. There are several members of the staff with a lot more years on the team."
Nate shrugged and smiled. "Sure. And hey, you know, I'm sure any one of them would probably be a better match with Lacey for this crossover piece."
Lacey watched her father's eyes narrow as he realized Nate was prepared to walk away from this assignment. Then he nodded. "You pull this off, and I imagine we could find some room for another feature writer." He pointed an index finger toward Nate. "As long as you're willing to keep up with your columns."
Nate agreed. "I can write the columns in a week. I've got the rest of the month to sink my teeth into some real projects."
"I do like your attitude, son," J.T. said, the compliment both rare and sincere.
"And I do like your view." Nate again turned to look at the blue, cloudless summer sky.
Lacey watched the two of them, so alike in their self-confidence, yet so different in appearance and method. Her father used bluster and an over-the-top, outrageous style to get what he wanted. Nate used charm—the boyish grin, a soft voice, those twinkling green eyes—to achieve his ends. They were both just as happy as pigs in mud.
"Uh, I hate to be the spoilsport in this whole love fest," she said, "but I haven't signed on for this. He gets what he wants. That doesn't mean I'll go along."
Surprisingly, it wasn't her father who answered. Nate turned, leaning his hip casually against the edge of her father's desk. "You're right, Lacey. Obviously it won't be much of an event if the two key players in this war aren't both in agreement. Isn't there something you have to gain out of it? Something you want that would make it worth having to put up with working with me for a month or so?"
Nate stared at her. A smile of encouragement and a small nod told her he had something particular in mind. And suddenly she knew what it was.
"I think I'll leave you two to sort out the details," Nate said, obviously noticing her sudden comprehension. "J.T., thanks for the opportunity."
He turned to leave. Lacey had to wonder how he'd known, how he could have realized there was something she wanted from J.T. Somehow, he knew she wanted to keep her relationship with J.T. quiet.