A Pregnancy Scandal. Kat CantrellЧитать онлайн книгу.
undercurrents between them heated as their gazes locked. He couldn’t have walked away from Alex if his ancestral home caught fire. He was close enough to see the brown fleck in her eye and it was oddly intimate. His attraction to her was ungodly strong and a colossal problem.
“You came for me?” he asked, but it wasn’t really a question. Her smile answered affirmatively anyway. “I’m flattered you’d put on an uncomfortable dress and wear makeup just for me.”
“Call it a rare burst of spontaneity. Totally unlike me. But hopefully worth it in the end.”
He almost groaned. She was killing him. Why couldn’t they be two normal people meeting at a party, with no agenda other than to spend time together? “I’m a fan of spontaneous women.”
Especially since he didn’t have nearly enough opportunity to indulge in spontaneity. It was the enemy of someone eyeing the presidency. His life consisted of carefully worded statements and planned appearances, strenuously vetted acquaintances and photo ops. The chances of, say, happening across an intriguing woman in a shadowy corner were nearly nil.
Yet here he was. They shared an inability to be spontaneous. Just this once, he wanted to indulge in spontaneity alongside her. Maybe they could be two people who met at a party and had fun with no expectations.
His grin widened. This was probably the most he’d smiled without being ordered to in...a long time. “Let’s do something totally impulsive, then. Dance with me.”
As vigorously as she shook her head, it was a wonder it didn’t roll off her neck. Brown, glossy strands floated from her hairdo, drifting down around her face. “I can’t dance with you in front of all these people.”
“You can so. Your dress is appropriately adjusted. You’re over the age of eighteen and not married.”
That was the trifecta of scandal potentials and the three he always checked off the list automatically within the first half a second in a woman’s company. After his uncle had lost his Senate nomination over some risqué pictures starring a woman who was not his wife, Phillip had vowed to stay on the straight and narrow.
His career wasn’t just about the election but about making a difference. Changing the world. He refused to allow his star to be snuffed out early for any reason, least of all a woman. His life was privileged, no doubt, but with that privilege came great responsibility.
“This dress doesn’t have magical powers, Phillip. I’m clumsy with words and feet.”
“You don’t seem to realize that you’re a successful executive who cofounded a million-dollar company. You should be out on the dance floor, intimidating the hell out of all the people here because you are Alexandra Meer and you don’t care what they think.”
He held out his hand. There was no way he would let her spend the night in the corner. They were going to honor her spontaneous impulse to attend this party. Of course, that was just an excuse. He couldn’t help but steal a few more minutes of her company.
* * *
Alex hesitated, staring at Phillip’s outstretched hand.
She’d been hiding behind the statue for a reason. Other women must have some kind of special sticky skin that allowed them to wear strapless dresses without falling out of them. Alex didn’t. Dancing would make everyone else aware of it, too.
“Come on,” he pleaded in his deep voice that made her shiver tonight as much as it had the first time she’d heard it. “I can’t leave you back here, and if you don’t dance with me, I’ll be an absentee host at my own party. This is my house. It would seem weird.”
Alex glanced at the very large, very ugly statue she’d taken refuge behind. “You weren’t supposed to see me.”
No one was; that was the point. The statue was a great place to hide but still allowed her to sort of be in the midst of things. Parties always reminded her of why she didn’t attend them. Social niceties were a confusing, complex set of rules that she could never seem to follow. Alex liked rules. But only when they made sense, like in finance. Numbers were the same yesterday and today as they would be tomorrow.
Normally, she followed her own number one rule to the letter—stay out of the spotlight. But she’d developed a fierce attraction to Phillip and, well...parties seemed to be his natural habitat. Thus she had to attend one to see if things might heat up between them outside of Fyra. Because there were sparks between them, but he’d yet to make a move. She wanted to find out if his glacial pace had to do with lack of interest or something else.
Cass had bullied her into a makeover and pried Alex’s credit card out of her fingers to purchase this dress. It all felt very surreal and a little like trying too hard. Alex didn’t have a glamorous bone in her body, but the resulting image in her mirror had turned out pretty good, if she did say so herself.
And here she and Phillip were, flirting and having fun, and he’d just asked her to dance. This dress did have magical powers.
Maybe she could dance with him. Just once. Then she’d slink back to her hiding spot before someone else tried to talk to her. Someone who wasn’t as understanding as Phillip about her permanent foot-in-mouth syndrome.
Slowly, she reached out. It was almost harder to do that than it had been to walk through Phillip’s palatial double front doors, knowing he was on the other side, divinely, devastatingly handsome. Actually, just about everything she’d done in the name of advancing her relationship with Phillip had taken a huge amount of bravery.
Maybe the stars had finally aligned to alleviate the loneliness Alex had been feeling lately—a by-product of both social awkwardness and a firm belief that romance was a myth perpetuated by the retail market. She dated here and there. Not often, for obvious reasons. But she liked companionship as much as the next girl, and Phillip was the first man in a long time that she couldn’t stop thinking about.
Tonight was about seeing where things might go between them.
Except, this hundred-year-old house was overwhelming—with a grand foyer the size of a public library, flanked by two curved staircases reaching toward the second floor. It was a visual reminder of his elite status and that men like him lived a whole different kind of existence, one that was ill-suited for a quiet wallflower like Alex.
But when her flesh connected with Phillip’s, it was a shock to her system. Need lanced through her. Hello. Been a long time since those muscles had a workout, yes sirree.
Their gazes collided and his hot blue eyes spoke to her, saying without words that he wanted her, too. Well, how about that?
She let it sing through her because men never noticed her. Alex had perfected the art of fading into the background, but Phillip had never overlooked her. Her reaction was powerful and visceral.
“Alex,” he murmured and tightened his grip on her hand. “We have to dance now. Otherwise, something very bad might happen.”
“Like what?” she asked curiously. His gaze was on her lips as if he might lean forward at any moment and take her mouth with his.
That sounded very good to her.
Maybe he’d even back her up farther into the corner and do it properly. His hands were smooth and strong, and she’d fantasized about them as they’d sat through long meetings together.
It wasn’t a crime. Just because she didn’t buy into the fantasy about love and romance didn’t mean she had an aversion to sex.
She’d been dreaming of kissing him for weeks, ever since the first time he’d walked into Fyra. The sparks between them had been instant and deliciously hot. And their connection was more than just physical. He was thoughtful, well-spoken, listened to her ideas and had a wicked sense of humor. She genuinely liked him. The insane gorgeousness attached to his personality was just a big, fat bonus.
“Bad, like I might show every last person at this party to the door,” he said. “And focus on no one but you.”
Heat