The Cost of Happiness: A Contemporary Romance (16 page)

“You’re so perfect,” he told her. He kissed her, hard and fast, then set about straightening her clothes. He swiftly tugged her zipper up and buttoned the waistband. When he was done, he pulled back slightly to look into her eyes.

“I want you so much, it’s hard to stop, hard for me even to think straight,” he said. “We have time. And we should talk a little first, right?”

Meghan didn’t know what to think. She’d been acting on instinct virtually from his first Monday morning team meeting. He wasn’t like anyone she’d ever met before, and certainly not like anyone else at Fergusson. He wasn’t anything like the guys she’d dated in high school and college, and there hadn’t been anyone at law school interesting enough to make her stop studying.

She felt things when she was around Dan, an eagerness to perform well and impress him. That’s what really scared her. Working with him was heady and exhilarating, maybe because it broke all the rules. Meghan knew the firm would put her back in her place—and probably put Dan in his place at the same time. “It’s simply not done, dear boy, having the paralegals meet the clients.”

And that was just their professional relationship. Now she also wanted him naked, touching her, making love to her. Where did she think this could lead, other than disaster?

So, yeah, when she thought the situation through, she could see how this one would end. Shame. For a minute there, it seemed like they could get away with the out-of-town fling.

“I guess,” she muttered.

He surprised her by kissing her again, softer this time. Sweeter. She kissed him back because she couldn’t help it.

He moved away, back toward the main part of the room, turning off lights and pushing all their work off to one side. She shuffled after him, stopping awkwardly a few feet away, not sure what he wanted her to do.

He found a music station on the clock radio, something playing jazz, and turned it down really low. When he was done, he turned back to her.

“Here.” He held out a hand. The room was dim, but not gloomy. She looked around, surprised. He’d actually managed to make it look way less like a conference room and more like a real room—a living room or a den. She took his hand and let him pull her next to him on the sofa. He tucked her under his arm. When he asked if she was comfy, she just nodded. She smiled a little, comforted.

There was a long moment, quiet and gentle, before he spoke again. “I didn’t think I was going to act on what I was feeling for you.” He paused and she could feel his chest rise and fall. “I didn’t know—I still don’t know—if it’s okay.”

“It’s okay with me,” she told him. “I really wanted,
want
this as much as you.”
More even than that.
She didn’t say it out loud. And why weren’t they downstairs buying condoms?

“Then it’s going to happen,” he assured her. “Can you understand why my first preference would not be to start here, in a hotel room ultimately paid for by the client? It just feels awkward to me, like some bad business affair cliché, to get romantic with a colleague while out of town.”

“The paralegal and the partner.”

“Exactly!”

She looked up at him as they laughed.

“Do you have someone? What I mean is, are you cheating on someone?”

“No. I told you that.” He didn’t sound annoyed by the question, but she was nervous all the same. “I haven’t been in a relationship for a couple of years. I just moved into my apartment in the Art Museum area two months ago. It’s still decorated in Early Cardboard Box.”

“Ah.”

“But the bed is made,” he volunteered in an encouraging voice.

She smiled. “Sounding better.” She mulled this over. “Of course, you could always come to the wilds of West Philly. You know where I live.”

“I’d like that.” She could feel the low vibrations when he chuckled.

“Here’s the thing,” she said. “I’m still aroused.”

He didn’t move. “Mmm. Me too.”

Okay, if he wasn’t going to tell her, she would just have to ask. “So why isn’t one of us going downstairs to buy condoms?”

“Anticipation. You know, sideways looks and fake accidental touches in the office, some surreptitious petting on the plane, a few suggestive emails—that kind of thing.”

“Oh, great, now I’m even hornier,” she complained, nestling closer to him.

“We could enjoy some heavy petting.” He didn’t move.

Meghan considered this seriously. She wanted to, she wanted to undress him and touch him and have him touch her. At the same time, she sensed he was right—that wouldn’t be as much fun if all they accomplished was more sexual frustration. The alternatives to making love all seemed too clinical. She was hot for him, not desperate. She could wait.

“Talk to me,” she countered.

“Suggestive talk? Office gossip? My childhood pet peeves? What did you have in mind?”

“Favorite movie.”

He thought for a moment. “Hard to answer, of course, because I have a couple.
Twelve Angry Men
is one. You know—with Henry Fonda as the lone juror holding out for acquittal? I know lawyers are supposed to say that
To Kill a Mockingbird
influenced them because Atticus Finch is such a great role model, but I love the drama of a single man arguing for what he believes in, challenging the prejudices of his fellow jurors and gradually winning them over. And as an added bonus, there are no lawyers in it.”

She could feel his cheek resting a little on her head. His voice was low and resonant. “How about you? Any movies made you want to be a lawyer?”

“
Legally Blonde
, of course,” she quipped. “Although I suppose now I should pick
Erin Brockovich
. The crusading paralegal who wins the case.”

“Okay.” He laughed. “Do you have a favorite movie?”

“It’s not very highbrow,” she confessed. “
Love in the Afternoon
. Audrey Hepburn and Gary Cooper.”

“I don’t know that one. What’s it about?”

“Audrey is the daughter of a widowed private investigator in Paris. She’s young, studying the cello. Her father—Maurice Chevalier—is investigating an American playboy—Gary Cooper—who’s got the worst reputation. So Audrey decides she has to meet this famous roué. She pretends to be a
femme du monde
herself, but it’s absurd—she’s clearly young and inexperienced. At the same time, she’s canny, and her stories of past lovers have lots of believable detail because they’re based on her father’s investigations of adultery.”

“That’s resourceful of her.”

“Exactly. Gary Cooper can’t help but be intrigued by her. He wants to believe that she’s had all these lovers because then he can make love to her too. He doesn’t want to believe that she’s had all these lovers because then she’s not who his heart says she is. Plus, he’s irrationally jealous.”

“So what happens?”

“Well, they meet in the afternoon because that’s when Audrey can get away from Papa. And she won’t deny any of her faux-liaisons, even though Gary Cooper gets angry at her. He figures it out, of course, the moment her deception is revealed. At the same time, he’s felt something with her, something real. There are tears, and the most wonderful ending in a Paris train station, when he finally realizes that he can’t live without her. Very romantic,” she finished. She didn’t want him to see that her eyes were moist.

He handed her a handkerchief. She didn’t know men actually still carried around handkerchiefs. This one was clean and had been pressed. She dabbed at her eyes discreetly.

They sat with only the jazz for a soundtrack. She could feel the heat from Dan’s body, hear the buh-thump of his heartbeat. He smelled familiar and different all at once. A woodsy scent combined with the aroma of his shirt. She trailed fingers along his forearm where his rolled-up sleeve revealed golden hairs on tanned skin.

It had to be late. She should probably go back to her room. She wasn’t sure what had been decided, but she felt okay however it ended. She just didn’t want to leave. She noticed Dan’s jaw tighten. He was stifling a yawn.

“I should go,” she offered. The arm around her tightened. “I don’t want to leave.” His arm relaxed.

“Would you—” he began.

“What?”

“It’s selfish. And maybe too kinky. I don’t know,” he faltered.

Okay, now she was intrigued. “Just tell me. I’ll say no to unacceptable levels of kink, I promise you.”

“Would you sleep here? With me? It’s a huge bed, and we can wear—well, whatever we would wear to bed. I just don’t want this evening to end.”

“That’s so sweet.” She twisted around so that her legs were draped over his and she could reach up to kiss him.

Oh boy, he kissed so well. Deep, soft, teasing, passionate—it was like the greatest hits of kissing. A top ten list. When his hands started drifting under her top, she pulled away.

“Horny territory, remember?”

He groaned.

“Let me go next door and brush my teeth. If I get cold feet, I’ll call so you don’t wait up. Otherwise, I’ll come back over. Okay?”

His eyes were shadowed in the room’s dim light, but she sensed she was getting that brilliant happy summer sky look. “Okay.”

She had a hard time leaving his room, what with his insistence on politely seeing her to the door, and the kissing, and the shared amusement when they—again—both reached for the doorknob. Which led to more kissing, deeper and more arousing kissing. More frustration. Totally worth it. Finally she slipped away.

Back in her room, she was shocked to see that she looked remarkably like the same woman she’d been at the start of the day. She’d expected something dramatic to be written on her face, at least.

I’m going to sleep with Dan Howard.

She went to get the oversized T-shirt she slept in. She’d not had many sleepovers as a child—that just wasn’t something she could do with classmates. She’d had a roommate in college, a quiet girl from a farm in Northern Iowa, but they hadn’t really clicked.

As a consequence, Meghan was excited as much by the prospect of sharing whispers in the dark as the idea of anything sexual happening.

To be fair, she was still pretty excited by the sex thing too. She grinned at her reflection before reaching for the toothbrush. If the kissing was anything to go by, the sex would be a whole lot of fun.

Meghan figured it was a good sign that Dan wasn’t the kind of guy to have a 12-pack of condoms in his shaving kit, or worse, tucked into his wallet. Hopefully he wasn’t expecting too much—she wasn’t the most experienced lover. Obviously, she knew the basics, although she’d never been with anyone who tried to do more than the basic tab A in slot B. Nice enough guys—nice enough sex, even—but she’d always known there were more options available. She just hadn’t cared to ask for anything different.

She hoped she would be able to this time, she thought, as she hastily changed into the grungy Old Threshers T-shirt she’d brought to sleep in. She frowned at it—hardly seductive. She shrugged. Maybe that was a good thing. She slipped some jeans on over her panties—she wasn’t going back out into the hall virtually naked from the hips down. After checking that all the lights were off and grabbing the chocolate on the pillow—
should have eaten that before brushing my teeth, hunh?
—she padded over to knock on Dan’s door.

Dan gave the suite a quick check just before he heard her knock. Housekeeping had turned down his bed already and he wasn’t a particularly untidy person. It mattered to him that he not just grab at Meghan like she was a quick meal at the drive-thru window. He desired her—it took his breath away to think how much he wanted her—but he liked her even more. Work romances could be awkward. Respect and honesty had to be the way to keep their relationship from going south.

Of course, he should be smart and call this off now. It might not be too late for them to go back to being colleagues and nothing more.

Who was he kidding? They’d crossed that line about an hour ago. He would just have to be very careful and make sure Meghan was protected at work.

When he opened the door, his calm went out the window. She looked fresh and sweet, in jeans and a T-shirt and nothing on her feet. She held something out to him.

“It’s a host gift,” she teased, and dropped a foil-wrapped chocolate into his hand. “I’d already brushed my teeth when I found it, so you should eat it.”

“Same thing happened to me. That’s okay, we can have them tomorrow.” He followed her into the suite. She didn’t pause in the sitting room, just went straight into the bedroom.

“Which side do you sleep on,” she asked.

He pointed to the left. She grinned at him, then pulled back the covers on the right side. She unsnapped her jeans and wriggled out of them, giving him a glimpse of pale pink legs, then climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to her chest.

He wanted to laugh with joy, but his mouth had gone dry. Too obvious if he went for some water now, so he got busy getting undressed. He normally slept naked. That wasn’t happening here, so he stripped down to his boxers and climbed in on the left.

He turned toward her, his head up on his left hand. “What’s your T-shirt say?”

She glanced down, as if she couldn’t remember. “It from the Old Threshers Days back in Iowa. It’s like a county fair, only there’s a heavy emphasis on early steam-powered farm machines.”