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  For a moment, she was tempted while staring into the darkness of his eyes to say the words she had repressed for almost six years:I’m in love with you. I’ve always been in love with you. I’ll always be in love with you.

  “You’re probably right.”

  “Probably? I know Fm right, Dr. Crews. Now, the best thing for you and Asia to do is to kiss and make up.” She suspected that whatever Sean and Asia had argued about must be serious for him to be in such a gloomy mood. She needed to give him hope. “And I’m sure whatever the two of you argued about will work itself out,” she said, trying to assure him.

  He picked up his wineglass and took a sip before quietly saying, “I hope so.”

  15

  Carrie and Connor

  Just like he’d done a few days ago, Connor stood in his office and watched Carrie get out of her car. And just like before, his body responded just from watching her. He crossed his arms over his chest.

  One thing was different though: he couldn’t see her tantalizing belly. Thanks to the snow that had fallen that morning, and the below-ten-degrees weather, she had sought protection from the cold by wearing a heavy coat. It didn’t reveal a damn thing.

  She was sexy as hell, even covered up. He’d never had a thing for dimples before until he’d seen hers. One in each cheek was a total turn-on. Hell, he could have an orgasm just standing here looking at her.

  Something else he had noted the other day was that even with her seemingly rough demeanor, there seemed to be something graceful about Carrie Montgomery . . . when she chose to be that way.

  He had been attracted to her. That was a given. He still was.

  That was a fact. But the attraction hadn’t been one-sided. He’d been around the block enough to know what heat in a woman’s berry-dark gaze meant. That moment in the outer office when they’d first met, she had stared at him so long that he’d been hard-pressed not to cross the room and kiss the stare off her lips. Hell, hard-pressed—he’d been hard, period. She had made for the door when she caught on. He couldn’t be blamed if there were some things men just couldn’t hide.

  And speaking of hiding . . .

  The moment she had left his office, he had done his research. He knew everything he wanted to know about Carrie Montgomery, including the fact that she was employed as a social worker in Tampa, Florida, owned a real nice condo on the bay, drove a Mustang convertible, and spent a lot of her free time at a gym working out. She also did a lot of volunteer work with agencies that benefited disadvantaged youths. He even knew the identity of the brothers she wanted to protect. Talk about a small world, evidently she’d assumed that since his office was in Portage, that’s where he lived. She might not be too happy to discover he’d been born and raised right in there in Gary. In fact his cousin Marcus was good friends with Sam Gunn, and anyone living in Gary who had ever attended Roosevelt High knew that Sam was the best friend of Dr. Lance Montgomery, well known psychologist and relationship expert. And although Connor didn’t know her brothers personally, he had heard about them and how successful the three of them were.

  Connor’s thoughts went back to Carrie. On the Internet, there were photographs of her taken with other members of the agency where she worked. She had been wearing a business suit, and her hair had been tied back on her head. He had to stare hard to make sure that it had really been her. Talk about a star tling transformation. Evidently, at work she dressed the part of the staunch professional.

  But then while at play . . .

  He smiled when he remembered what she had been wearing Friday. There had been nothing professional about letting it all hang out, especially her stomach. But he had no complaints. In fact he had gotten turned on seeing that ring in her navel.

  From what he’d been able to dig up on her, it appeared she was twenty-four, a dedicated employee, and didn’t date much. She mostly stayed to herself, and when she did go out, it was to an occasional movie or baseball game with her brother, the well- known and renowned plastic surgeon, Dr. Logan Montgomery. However, in a couple of news articles, it was reported that one of the players on the Tampa Devil Rays, Ethan Carmichael, had been smitten with her. When she refused to reciprocate his interest, he had moved on.

  She doesn’t trust men.

  Connor thought of the photographs she had shared with him and was consumed with anger. No one should have been subjected to the life she’d had, first as a child abuse victim, and then as a runaway. Once again tenderness and protectiveness welled up inside him. The woman was a survivor, but a part of him wished more than anything that there was a way he could soothe any past hurt she had ever endured. He was looking forward to finding this Simon what’s-his-name and making sure he paid for his dirty deeds of the past. The man had to be brainless. He’d get jail time for exposing those photos. Either he was extremely stupid, or he was not the one trying to blackmail Carrie. For some reason, Connor was betting his money on the latter.

  “Hey, Connor, your noon appointment is here,” Brad said, sticking his head in the door and shoving his glasses back on his nose. “Should I send her in?”

  “Yeah, send her in, and Brad, let me know when lunch arrives.”

  Carrie felt Connor’s presence even before their eyes met.

  Since meeting him on Friday, she had thought of him a lot, and the one thing she always remembered, in addition to how handsome he was, was the intensity of his eyes whenever he looked at her. And whenever she had thought of him, she had felt hot.

  She hadn’t wanted to feel that way, and even now she knew her only concern was to have him find who had sent her those photographs, to stop them before they got started in what they planned to do. But still, thanks to Connor Hargrove, he had reminded her she was a woman.

  He was so angry when he’d seen the photographs. Watching his reaction to them had made their arrangement feel more personal than business.

  She cleared her throat. “Connor.”

  He smiled sexily. “Carrie, please come in. I’ll be glad to hang up your coat for you.”

  She nodded as she slipped out of her coat then handed it to him. “Thanks.”

  He placed it on the rack next to his leather one. “I was looking forward to our meeting today.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Why is that?”

  “So we can get down to business. I’m anxious to get started.”

  She wiped her damp hands on her jeans. What in the hell was wrong with her? She had met good-looking men before. Ethan hadn’t been bad looking, and a lot of women had envied the in terest he had shown in her. But she hadn’t been attracted to him to this degree, and as crazy as it sounded, she would swear that there was some sort of warm, musky, and seductive scent that was emitted by Connor’s skin, calling out to her in a totally primitive way. It was tempting her to do something thrilling as well as forbidden.

  “Would you like to take a seat?”

  What she really would have liked was to go somewhere and toss between the sheets with him.

  “Carrie?”

  She quickly moved toward the chair. “Yes, of course.”

  Connor suspected what was going on in Carrie’s head was the same thing going on in his. The moment she had taken off her coat and he saw she was wearing another top showing all her belly, he’d had to dig his heels into the floor to stop from crossing the room, dropping to his knees, and licking her navel. She had a stomach that was covered in smooth, soft looking skin that just cried out to be kissed.

  There was just something about her that made his male instinct go on full alert. He wanted her. He’d definitely liked the way she looked in a skirt the other day, but she looked good today in jeans, as well.

  “Do you ever get cold?” he couldn’t help but ask.

  She settled back in the chair and shrugged. “Not particularly and I’m proud of my body.”

  Connor swallowed. She had a lot to be proud of and then some.

  “You needed information.”

  Her words cut into his thoughts,
and he immediately felt guilty. He needed to get laid and soon. Her midriff T-shirt said SLIPPERY WHEN WET, which wasn’t helping matters. He desperately wanted to see just how wet she could get.

  The knock at the door nearly made him jump. He was grateful for the interruption when Brad stuck his head in. “Lunch is here.”

  “Thanks,” Connor said.

  When Brad closed the door, Connor glanced back at Carrie and said, “I ordered us lunch. I hope you like ham and cheese.”

  Sudden panic consumed her. “I told you I didn’t want to do lunch.”

  It was on the tip of Connor’s tongue to say they didn’t have to do lunch. Instead they could do each other. But Connor figured that wouldn’t be the thing to say. “You have to eat, and what’s wrong with us sharing a meal while we get down to business?”

  “Everything.” She tossed the folder she’d brought with her on his desk. “Look, I need to leave. Look through those notes, and if you need anything else, just give me a call.”

  Before Connor could get around his desk to stop her, she had quickly walked out of his door.

  When Carrie couldn’t drive another mile, she pulled the car over into the parking lot of a Target store and sat for a while. She tightened her hand on the steering wheel. How could she have panicked like that? Connor Hargrove probably thought she was one giant moron for leaving his office that way. But she hadn’t been able to help it. What was easy for some was hard for others. She knew that on occasion that was one hurdle she couldn’t cross. While in college, she had sought counseling, and it had helped somewhat, but every once in a while, she would remember.

  She sighed, trying to remember the last time sharing a meal with a man had bothered her. It had been a while ago. She chalked the recent panic attack to the fact that someone, more likely Simon, was trying to breach the protective wall her brothers erected around her.

  She was afraid.

  She was afraid that her brothers would face embarrassment if word ever got out of what had happened to her, although it was not by her choosing. There was no doubt in her mind that Logan, Lyle, and Lance would hold her blameless, but still there would be talk, and she would do everything she could to protect them from that.

  Carrie didn’t want to get her hopes up, but Connor seemed pretty sure that he would be able to put to stop to Simon before he caused any mischief. And more than anything, she hoped that he would prove successful.

  Later that night, Connor lay in bed and replayed in his mind the conversations he and Carrie Montgomery had shared in his office that day. He was pissed with himself for allowing his mind to spend even one second thinking about a woman who had such a deep mistrust of men that she seemed petrified at the thought of sharing a meal with one of them. He wondered what the hell that had been about? Why in the hell did he even give a damn? With a muttered curse, he flipped on his back and stared at the ceiling. The irony of it all was that he did give a damn.

  What was there about Carrie Montgomery that captured his interest? Okay, he would admit she was fine, but then he’d had women who looked just as good, even more beautiful. But his vitals had never responded to any of them the way they were re sponding to Carrie. His body was responding to her in ways he damn sure wished it wouldn’t. In a way, his intense attraction to her angered as well as disconcerted him. It just made no sense. And then there was her ability to touch him on a level beyond just physical desire. Although it was clearly obvious that she was capable of taking care of herself, there was something about Carrie Montgomery that brought out his protective instincts, as well as a degree of compassion he’d never known he had. He wasn’t sure how that was possible, and why it was so with this particular woman.

  Knowing he wouldn’t get any answers tonight, he rolled back on his stomach, punched his pillow a couple of times, and forced his eyes closed.

  He needed sleep.

  He needed to get laid.

  He needed to lick that part of Carrie’s stomach that she liked exposing.

  He opened his eyes when he realized that more than anything, whether he liked it or not, he needed Carrie Montgomery.

  16

  Lance and Sean

  Lance looked out his window at Lake Michigan. It was morning, and he had just finished eating breakfast. Last night, the snow hadn’t stopped falling. After Carrie left early yesterday to return to Gary, he had spent the rest of the day trying to formulate his thoughts for his book. He’d sat at his computer and managed to get in at least six good hours of writing time before calling it a day and going to bed.

  Now he was wide awake and fighting like hell against the impulse of calling his travel agent to book a flight to New York and appear unannounced on Asia’s doorstep—to beg if he had to for another chance. Now that he had seen her, talked to her, been in close confines with her, the distance separating them was killing him. He needed to be around her, work hard to let her know he had meant every word when he’d told her that he loved her. He had ordered more flowers to be delivered to her. He had gotten a call from the New York florist who said Asia hadn’t been happy getting the delivery. He told them it didn’t matter, that he wanted fresh ones sent to her every few days with the same message: I love you. For a man who had never used the words, he was certainly using them a lot now.

  He moved away from the window when he heard his phone ring. Crossing the room, he quickly picked it up. “Yes?”

  “Dr. Montgomery, this is Tom from security downstairs. There’s a Dr. Sean Crews here to see you.”

  Lance recovered from his surprise enough to say, “Send him up, Tom.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks, Lance crossed the room to the door, vividly recalling the day the two had met. He’d arrived at the television studio where he and Asia were to tape a show and had walked up just in time to see the love-smitten man take Asia’s hand in his, while whispering something low in her ear. Lance could truly say he had been confronted with his first bout of jealousy that day. While Asia made introductions, he noted that Crews’s smile had been forced, brief, and cool. The man’s antagonistic reaction hadn’t surprised Lance. A smart man recognized his adversaries. He had found out enough information on Crews to know he was highly thought of in the medical profession as a skillful orthopedic surgeon. But most important, he had been a true friend to Asia when she needed one. And Lance even believed that he truly loved her. Under different circumstances, Lance would probably have liked the man.

  But unfortunately, too much was at stake right now, and he had no intention, regardless of how Crews felt about things, of losing Asia a second time.

  Asia would be furious with him when she found out he had paid a visit to Montgomery. When he left D.C., instead of taking the flight to New York to meet with Asia to determine their plans for Thanksgiving, he had impulsively decided he needed to have a good heart-to-heart talk with Montgomery. Evidently, the man didn’t understand the concept of gentlemen’s honor when it involved an engaged woman. Maybe it was time someone educated him.

  When the elevator stopped, Sean stepped off onto the twentieth floor. The moment he rounded the carpeted corridor and veered to his right, he noticed Lance Montgomery’s condo’s door was open. The man himself stood in the doorway, his hip casually leaning against the wooden frame . . . waiting for him.

  Lance cut to the chase and asked, “What’s the reason for this visit, Crews?”

  Sean tried keeping the annoyance out of his voice. “I felt that we needed to talk.”

  Lance stared at Sean then admitted dryly, “Yes, we do.”

  He took a step back, and when Sean entered, he closed the door. He asked, “Would you care for anything to drink?”

  Sean shook his head after removing his coat. “No. What I have to say won’t take long.”

  Lance nodded. “Then say it.”

  Again, just like the first time they met, Sean’s smile was forced—brief and cool. “I want you to stay away from Asia. I don’t unders
tand what you think you’re doing, but I want it to stop.”

  Lance crossed his arms over his chest and matched Sean’s phony smile. Only a man who felt threatened would have the gall to show up and say such a thing to another man. “And just what do you think I’m doing?”

  “You’re blatantly disregarding the fact that she’s engaged to be married. Although Asia has never denied or confirmed it, I have a feeling that you had your chance and blew it, Montgomery. Get over it. She is not a woman to be toyed with, and I resent you doing so. She has been through enough bullshit in her lifetime. She’s someone who deserves total and complete happiness.”

  Lance couldn’t agree more, and all the unnecessary pain she had endured had come from this man’s brother. As far as Lance was concerned, that was too close for comfort. “Doesn’t it bother you to know that although she might have agreed to marry you, there’s a possibility that she’s in love with another man—namely me?”

  Sean chuckled. “You really think highly of yourself, Montgomery, to believe that. I saw Asia’s reaction to you at the Pattersons’ party. She can’t stand you.”

  “At the risk of sounding conceited again,” Lance said in a cool, implacable voice, “that is just a temporary state of mind. Asia is in love with me. She only agreed to marry you because I screwed up. If you don’t believe it, then think about the timing of when she accepted your proposal. Asia loves you as a friend and nothing more, and I believe that deep down you already know that. Why are you willing to tie her to a loveless marriage? Like you said earlier, she is someone who deserves total and complete happiness.”

  When Sean didn’t say anything immediately, Lance said, “If you love her as much as I think you do, then you would want to give her that, too, even if it means giving her up.”

  Sean gazed at him levelly and began putting back on his coat. “I won’t give her up, Montgomery.”

  “Then I guess the battle is on, and I intend to win.” He knew it was a huge physical effort for Sean to look cool, confident, and collected when he turned to walk out the door.

 

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