Blame It on the Blackout Read Free Page B

down at herself as though something was wrong with the awe-inspiring concoction she was wearing. “Don’t you like it? Should I take it back?”
    â€œNo!” he yelped, too fast and too loud. Taking a breath, he tempered his tone and added, “It’s perfect. I was just…” Admiring the view…thinking sinful thoughts…looking for a way to get you out of it… “Thinking of all the heads you’re going to turn tomorrow night. We may have to beat men off with a stick.”
    Her cheeks colored prettily and she lowered her eyes for a moment. “Thank you.”
    â€œYou won’t have any trouble stirring up interest for Reyware in that outfit.”
    He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. What was he thinking, effectively equating her attending the charity soiree in that dress to prostitution? Hey, Luce, how about fixing yourself up and coming to dinner with me so you can give new meaning to “pressing the flesh” and drum up a little financial support for my personal corporation?
    Lord, he felt like a pimp.
    And he knew his comment hurt her because she lowered her head and traced invisible designs on the carpet with the toe of her shoe.
    Scrubbing a hand over his face, he cursed silently. “That didn’t come out right,” he tried to apologize.
    She raised her eyes to his, dark and shadowed, and offered a weak smile. “I know what you meant.”
    No, she didn’t, but he couldn’t think of a way to further explain himself without making matters worse.
    â€œI’d better go change back,” she said, letting her gaze slide away from him again. “Before I get stained or torn or wrinkled.”
    He could think of a couple of things he wouldn’t mind doing to tear or wrinkle her gown. And he’d happily pay for another when they were finished.
    As quickly as that image entered his mind, he shut it down. Lucy turned, heading back to his bedroom, andthere was enough testosterone swimming around in his veins at the moment to watch her walk away and enjoy every elegant, long-legged stride.
    But that was as far as it could go—watching. Lucy wasn’t one of the women who snuggled up to him at parties and made it clear they were hoping to spend the night in his bed.
    As much as he might wish differently, he couldn’t use her to scratch this itch that was suddenly driving him crazy. She was his assistant, and he hoped a friend. Those were two things he wasn’t willing to risk.
    Worse than that, though, Lucy wasn’t a woman he could walk away from in the morning. She would always be here, working for him, helping him to market his software designs and computer know-how, and filling the holes in his own personality with her award-winning people skills.
    Dropping into his desk chair, he sent it spinning and watched the blue of the walls swirl around him. What a mess. He should have hired a man to answer the phone and open his mail. He sure as hell wouldn’t be having this problem then.
    But Lucy was the best, and he honestly wouldn’t want to work with anyone else, no matter how hard it was to ignore her presence.
    If he started something with Lucy, there would be no one-night stand, no casual roll in the hay that could be forgotten and ignored ten minutes later. She wasn’t that kind of girl.
    And if she wasn’t that kind of girl, then she was the other. The forever kind, with visions of marriage and children and picket fences dancing in her brain.
    That kind scared Peter to death. He’d decided long ago never to let a personal, romantic relationship cloud his acumen for business.
    His father had tried to have both and failed miserably. Oh, his company was a smashing success, but his marriage might as well have been a house afire. He’d spent all his time at the office, put all of his energy into deals and negotiations…while Peter and his mother were the ones to suffer.
    Peter