Page 102 of Lucas & Melissa Falling in Love
“How about a special side trip? I have something, a place I want you to see,” he says. I know he was on the phone half the night with movers and suppliers getting his showroom ready.
“You’re taking me to see your new showroom?”
“You game?”
“Yes, of course.” The pride telegraphing from him makes me swoon. “Any fancy new sports cars to see yet?”
“Everything but the cars. They’ll arrive last. They’re somewhere on the Atlantic Ocean as we speak,” he says.
We park in the underground garage for the building where Lucas has his office space and showroom. He starts the tour with the offices upstairs. They’re fully decked out.
“This must have cost you a fortune,” I say, knowing the price of real estate and furnishings in Manhattan.
“Don’t worry. We can afford it. Especially if we win the cup next week. Big race coming up. Big promotional campaign building off it.”
“If a Fierro car wins?”
He nods.
“You have balls of steel, don’t you?”
He laughs. “It’s not as risky as it seems. We win more often than we lose and I have it on good authority that our car and driver are favored. Nothing but the best in our company.”
“And there’s money in race cars.” I don’t mean to sound skeptical.
“Lots of it.” He raises a hand and rubs his fingers against his thumb in that gesture that means big moolah.
“I hope to get a big deal brewing of my own,” I say. “Not as risky as yours. Tonight Bert promised me a big fish. For a referral fee of course, but still, it’s decent of him. He knows I’m a closer.” Not sure why I’m trying to compete, since it’s truly a case of apples and oranges between what Lucas does and what I do. And really, he’s miles above me in the pecking order of our respective companies.
“You’re a tiger. A bonus and a new major deal. You’re smart and savvy. I’m in awe.”
Smacking his arm, I prefer not to take him seriously because his words make me too warm, too mushy inside and I need to resist it. Don’t I? Either way, I’m uncomfortable, so I quip. Of course.
“Watch out. I bite too.”
His eyes darken with passion and his lids lower provocatively. I laugh, one of those nervous flirty laughs where I can feel my heart in my throat.
“You’re so easy,” I say, my voice sounding like a raspy purr.
“Not surprising. You own me, Melissa. You know that.” His voice goes low and gravelly and he moves in, close.
I look around and there are windows everywhere because we’re in a freaking showroom—a corner showroom. Lucas doesn’t seem to care as he wraps an arm around me, holding me against him so I can feel his heart thudding. Or maybe it’s my heart.
The sudden buzzing of my phone reminds me before I even look at the screen that we need to get to Margo and George’s party.
“Shit,” I mutter.
“Margo?” Lucas guesses, then heaves a sigh. “We should go. There’s always later tonight.” He gives me a meaningful look and I nod.
What the hell, why not? I’ll live dangerously for one night. I say, “I’ll stay with you unless you want to stay in Margo and George’s guest room for old time’s sake?”
He laughs. “Call me old-fashioned, but I’d rather we stay at my place—all alone.”
“Old-fashioned? I think you are in a lot of ways.”
“Aren’t you going to answer her call?” He asks as we walk to the elevator to go down to the garage. I feel a zip of annoyance at his monitoring of my behavior.
“No.”
