The Lesson (13 page)

Finding a small table with
comfortable-looking lounge chairs, she sank gratefully into the
cushioned seat and leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment.

What a week,
she thought tiredly.
I never
realized how much I didn’t know.

Maybe,
replied the little voice inside her,
but you sure as hell impressed everyone. Especially
Martin.

She opened her eyes.
That’s true. Once they managed to peel their eyes
off my chest, they did seem impressed,
she thought,
wrinkling her nose as she thought about all the leering stares
she’d received throughout the week.

Ha!
The voice
snickered.
You can’t control what those
idiots do. Who cares if they look at you, or if you get more out of
them because they like the way you look.

That’s not how I want to do business.

It doesn’t matter if
you
want
to. It is what it
is. Men have been talking to your chest since you were fourteen.
They can’t seem to help it. If you can use it to your advantage, so
what?

That’s terrible,
she admonished.
I don’t want to get
ahead because of my looks.

Again, it is what it is. What’s the
alternative? Try to hide yourself under ugly clothes and a dull
hair cut?

Bianca considered it as a waiter approached
her. “Can I get you something to drink, Miss?”

She smiled at him and stifled a chuckle as
he blushed slightly. “Does the bartender make a good martini?”

“Absolutely,” he promised with a grin of his
own. “I give you my personal guarantee.”

“Make it a dry martini then,” she laughed.
“And I’ll hold you to that guarantee.”

She sat back and turned to watch the band
while she waited for her drink. A pretty young woman with thick
dark hair joined them, and after a moment, the band started playing
a low beat and the young woman lifted a microphone to her lips.

“When I fall in love,” she warbled.

Bianca smiled as she watched the band,
enjoying the slow rhythm of the music.

It was the last night of the convention, and
while the days had been filled with business, the nights had been
filled with parties and gambling and copious amounts of alcohol.
Bianca had been careful to have fun, but not too much fun, and she
found Martin Trayne made an excellent travelling companion. He’d
booked their rooms next door to each other, and they’d shared
breakfast each morning, attending all the convention functions and
parties together as well.

Martin proved to be intelligent and witty,
and, as she discovered with delight at the first party of the week,
an excellent dancer. They’d laughed and danced at every party, and
Bianca couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun.

For the first time, Bianca found herself
considering Martin as more than a boss. They had become friends,
and she sensed there could be more. He hadn’t said anything, and
had behaved like a perfect gentleman all week, but every once in a
while she caught something in his gaze, an intensity, a fire that
told her he wanted more than friendship.

The physical reaction she had under his gaze
made her wonder if she wanted more too.

“Here you are, Miss,” the waiter set her
drink on a cocktail napkin and stepped back. “Can I get you
anything else?”

“No,” she shook her head. “But you can do me
a favor and make sure you check back with me in about fifteen
minutes. I’m definitely going to need another one of these.”

“You bet!” the waiter laughed as he left her
to enjoy the martini.

She started to sip her drink when she heard
someone calling her name.

“Bianca!”

Looking up, she watched as Martin walked
across the room. “Can I join you?” he asked when he reached her
table.

“Of course,” she indicated the empty seat
across from hers.

He sat down and let his head fall back
against the back of the chair and sighed.

Bianca grinned. “I know exactly how you
feel,” she laughed. “I’ve been sitting here enjoying the music.”
She pointed to the stage. The band started playing ‘At Last,’ and
the singer closed her eyes as she began to sing.

Martin signaled for the waiter, and glanced
at Bianca’s drink when he came back to the table. “Dry martini,
right? Any good?” She nodded and he looked up at the waiter. “I’ll
have the same, and make sure you check back in about fifteen
minutes.”

Bianca grinned as the waiter left. “I told
him the exact same thing.”

Martin laughed and clapped his hands. “Hot
damn, it’s been a week,” he exclaimed, grinning back at her.

“And how,” she replied, toasting him with
her drink. “I’m glad it’s over.”

They chatted back and forth about different
aspects of the convention, some of the workshops they’d attended,
as well as upcoming changes they’d be making to how their agents
would be dealing with new policy holders with preexisting
conditions.

The conversation continued as the waiter
came with Martin’s drink and left with instructions to bring
another round in fifteen minutes. When he arrived with round two,
they asked him to bring the next in another fifteen. “No sense in
pretending like we’re not going to have a third,” he told Bianca as
he loosened his tie.

“Amen,” she chuckled. “If ever I needed an
extra, tonight’s the night.”

“Are you sorry you took the job?” he
asked.

“No,” she shook her head. “Not at all. I’m
just afraid I’ve only absorbed about two percent of what I should
have this week.”

Martin shrugged. “You’re going to be fine. I
can’t believe the deal you struck with Nova for their newest blood
pressure meds. You sure charmed the pants off their rep.”

Bianca sipped her martini and smiled. “Steve
took a shine to me, didn’t he?”

“A shine?” echoed Martin. “That’s putting it
mildly. I think he would have given you his first born if you’d
asked.”

Bianca exploded with laughter.

Martin grinned as he took a long pull off
his drink. “He pulled me aside earlier today and told me it wasn’t
fair unleashing a supermodel like you on him.”

“Hmph,” Bianca shrugged a shoulder. “Funny
enough, I was arguing with myself about the very same subject right
before you joined me. Wondering if my looks have more to do with
how far I’ve gotten, and less to do with any skill I might possess.
I’ve been trying to convince myself there’s nothing underhanded or
amoral about using charm and good looks to get ahead.”

“Bianca,” he shook his head in exasperation.
“You’re not serious, are you? Your looks have nothing to do with
why I offered you the job. You’re smart, quick, and you have a
heart when you need to. I’ve always known you’d be a huge asset to
the company once you learned what you needed to.” He spread his
hands apart in a gesture of concession. “I’d be lying if I said
your pretty face won’t help you, but only because that’s how all
business works. We don’t have to like it, but it’s true whether we
want to admit it or not.”

“I know,” she sighed. “But I can’t help
wishing more people looked at me the same way you do.”

Martin studied her, his eyes dark and
serious. Something in his gaze suddenly made Bianca acutely aware
of the way her skirt rode up just enough to expose part of her
thigh, and how the top few buttons of her blouse were unbuttoned,
revealing a hint of cleavage.

She blushed a little and started to reach
down to adjust her skirt, but then stopped as the little voice
inside her piped up.

Why?
It
asked.
He’s intelligent, attractive, kind,
and you genuinely like him. He’s perfect for you.

Maybe.

Pfft. He’s not Mason, right? That’s why
you’re holding back.

No!
protested
Bianca.
That’s not it at all. I’m not sure
I want to start something with my boss. It could be a
disaster.

Or amazing. Don’t be a chicken.

“Bianca, can I ask you a personal question?”
Martin was still staring at her with the same probing
expression.

She studied him, knowing what was coming and
unsure if she wanted to open that particular door.

What do you have to
lose?
the voice asked.

My heart. I could lose my heart again.

Maybe. But what’s the alternative? Spend the
rest of your life alone? You want more.

You’re right. I do want more.

“Go for it,” she told Martin.

He leaned forward, his face serious. “I know
it’s outside professional boundaries, but are you seeing
someone?”

Mason’s face flashed through her mind, and
the incident in her car sent a rush of sensation straight to her
core.

Remember Nonno Joe,
the voice practically yelled at her.

“No,” she answered as the waiter brought a
fresh round of drinks to their table.

Martin picked up his martini and waited
until the waiter left, his eyes still on her. “Are there any
circumstances in which you would consider spending time with me?
Outside of work, that is.”

“Martin, I …” she trailed off, uncertain of
her answer.

The band began to play a new song, and
Bianca recognized the haunting melody of ‘My Funny Valentine.’

Martin stood suddenly and held out his hand
to her. “Dance with me?” he asked, his eyes intent on hers.

At least give him a
chance,
the voice told her.
What do you have to lose?

Besides my heart as we discussed a minute
ago? How about my job? My sanity?

Ha. Don’t be a scaredy-cat.

I’m not,
she
denied.

Liar.

Oh yeah? We’ll see about that.

Bianca put her hand in Martin’s and stood
up. “You know I can’t say no to a dance,” she smiled at him.

Martin led her onto the small dance floor in
front of the stage, taking her in his arms.

Bianca felt the heat of his body pressed
against hers, and she was surprised at how good he felt next to
her.

See?
gloated
the voice.

Whatever. I’ve been drinking. I’m sure
that’s all it is.

Tsk, tsk. Always lying to yourself.

Shut up.

Bianca laid her head on Martin’s shoulder,
and he let out a shuddering sigh and pulled her closer than was
perhaps appropriate.

“You feel mighty fine,” he murmured.

The singer belted out the melancholy lyrics,
sending a shiver down Bianca’s spine. “I love this song,” she said
absently.

Martin’s hand brushed against the small of
her back. “It’s beautiful,” he agreed. “But I think it pales next
to you.”

“Martin,” she began to protest.

“Shh.” He pulled back to look at her. “If
you’re going to say anything that would spoil this moment, please
don’t. Let me enjoy it here and now.”

She stared up at him and wondered what it
would be like to be in love with a man like him.

Give him a chance,
the voice urged her again, and suddenly she decided maybe the
voice was right.

“I was just going to say that you’re sweet
for saying so,” she lied, giving him a soft smile.

Martin’s eyes swept over her face, lingering
on her mouth and Bianca knew she only had a moment or two before he
kissed her. She hesitated, wondering if she was ready to take the
next step in their relationship, and then the waiting was over.

Martin’s lips pressed against hers, soft but
firm. He nipped at her bottom lip and Bianca sighed, and was once
again surprised at how good he felt.

Too soon, however, Martin pulled away.
“Bianca,” he uttered hoarsely. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long
time.”

She studied his face, and his solemn
expression tugged at her emotions. With a sudden revelation, she
realized she trusted him, and she almost slumped with relief. It
had been so long since she trusted anyone.

She laid her head on his chest, letting the
music flow over her and enjoying the feel of his body next to
hers.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The night passed quickly as they split the
evening between the dance floor, martinis and stolen kisses. By the
time they decided to make their way to their rooms, they were both
as intoxicated by each other as they were by the alcohol.

They crossed the casino to the elevators and
found themselves alone as the doors closed her. For a brief moment,
Bianca was reminded of another man and a different elevator, and
then Martin gathered her into his arms and found her mouth with
his, teasing her with his tongue until all thought fled from her
mind.

The elevator dinged and they jumped apart.
By the time they made it to Martin’s room, Bianca’s entire body
thrummed with excitement. He inserted his key card, threw open the
door and turned to Bianca. “Will you come in?” he asked her. His
passion-strained voice tugged at her and she nodded, stepping past
the threshold.

He took her in his arms, pushing her against
the door until it slammed shut behind them.

His mouth covered hers, his tongue dancing
over hers. His hands clasped hers and he stretched them high above
her head, holding them against the door and pressing his body
against hers.

Desire coursed through Bianca, and she
whimpered. Martin groaned at the sound, releasing her hands so he
could run his own down the side of her body. One hand grasped her
thigh, pulling her leg up around his waist. Bianca gasped and
wrapped her arms around his neck.

His tongue plundered her mouth, tasting and
caressing until he finally tore his mouth from hers, let go of her
leg and backed away. “Bianca,” he gasped. “You’re so sweet. I’m so
sorry, I didn’t mean to lose control like that.”