Pretending with the Playboy Read online

  Especially women.

  But she forced herself to remain where she was and tried not to fixate on the fact that he couldn’t answer Dorothy’s calls because he’d been busy undressing La Perla lingerie models. She clenched her fingers into fists at her sides and focused on what she came here to do. “It’s cancer and it’s spread.”

  He inhaled audibly, as if shock sucker punched him in his gut. “Shit.” He slumped against the counter and squeezed his eyes shut. “What kind?”

  “Ovarian.”

  “What about treatment?”

  “It was quite advanced by the time she was diagnosed. She had a hysterectomy but the cancer has spread to other organs. The next step would be chemotherapy, but at her age, and after the surgery…” The words jammed in her throat. She blinked back the biting sting of tears and forged ahead. “She’s signed up for an experimental cancer trial that has had remarkable results on patients similar to Dorothy but that doesn’t begin for another two months.”

  “There’s treatment that can help her, but she has to wait until Sept—” He stopped and focused on her with laserlike intensity. “Wait a minute. She’s gotten a second and third opinion? She’s had a hysterectomy? Even for someone with Aunt Dorothy’s influence, that would take time. How long has she been sick?”

  Dread pooled in the pit of her stomach and she bit her lip. Was the messenger always sacrificed for the sake of the message?

  “Since April.”

  “My aunt has been sick for three months and I’m just now finding out about it?” he asked, his voice rising with each word he uttered.

  Lauren winced. If it’d been up to her, he would’ve been told after the diagnosis. But Dorothy was adamant she didn’t want to burden him until she knew what they were facing. Burden him? Dorothy was the one who’d been diagnosed, yet she was concerned about how Carter would handle the news.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? Don’t you think I deserved to know?” he asked.

  “I do. But Dorothy had her reasons for waiting and I respected them.”

  “Of course you did. Heaven forbid you have an opinion Aunt Dorothy didn’t first give you.”

  The unfairness of his judgment stung. Was it wrong to value Dorothy’s opinion? The woman had taken her in after her parents’ death and given a teenage girl an extraordinary life. It was only natural for her to respect and appreciate the woman.

  Unlike Carter, who took Dorothy, and his entire family, for granted.

  “So what if she didn’t call you three months ago? She’s been trying to reach you for the past three weeks, and you’ve ignored her calls.”

  “That doesn’t excuse everyone keeping me in the dark!”

  Her blood began to burn, irritation at his cross-examination boiling over. “What would you have done?” she fired back. “Would your knowing have made the disease disappear?” She gestured to her surroundings where evidence of his recent hookup was strewn about like slutty breadcrumbs. “In addition to top-of-the-line lingerie, do you have a cure for cancer lying around that we don’t know about?”

  Carter narrowed his eyes. “I’m glad you can be so logical about this,” he said coolly.

  She looked away from him and blinked back tears. Maybe she seemed unaffected now, but she’d had her moments. Dorothy’s diagnosis had been a seismic event. The safe, solid ground on which Lauren lived her life had shifted beneath her feet. She’d made lists of renowned specialists. She’d researched cutting-edge treatments and holistic remedies. She’d even vowed to turn down the prestigious art fellowship she’d been offered, if this would all go away. He should be grateful he’d been spared the experience of ineffectual hoping for the past few months.

  “I know this is hard for you, but Dorothy’s made her peace,” she told him. “The last thing she needs is for you to come marching in and ruffling feathers, just to make yourself feel better.”

  “Don’t tell me how to feel. She’s my aunt.”

  “And she’s been like a mother to me.”

  He pushed against the counter and growled. Straightening, he shoveled his fingers through his hair and exhaled.

  Even angry, he was desirable, his clenched jaw and intense stare just as dreamy as when he was flashing a wicked grin. If she let herself, she’d dive into him like he was a ten-pound bag of gummy bears. But she wouldn’t. It had taken eight years, but she’d become a pro at abstaining from bad influences. Indulging in Carter would do more than add hard lost inches to her hips. It could break her heart. Again.

  A loud sound blared through the space and he grabbed his cell phone, thumbing the screen to halt the noise. “Shit, my alarm.” He sighed. “No more sleep for me.”

  “Good, we don’t have a lot of time. How long will it take you to pack?”

  “Pack?”

  “Yes. Our flight leaves out of Reagan National in”—she sneaked a glance at his phone—“three hours.”

  “Then you should hurry. I can’t hop a plane to Chicago now.”

  “Why not?”

  “I told you, I’m general counsel for a billion-dollar company. I can’t up and leave. I have arrangements to make first.”

  She threw her hands in the air, aggravation piling on top of her earlier frustration. It had seemed so simple. Fly to DC, inform Carter of his aunt’s illness, and immediately fly back with him to Chicago. So far, the plane ride was proving to be the easiest part, and they’d been delayed two hours because of mechanical issues.

  But she wasn’t giving up. When she made a plan, she stuck with it, no matter what. If Dorothy wanted Carter back home in Chicago, then that’s where he would be, even if she had to hog-tie him and throw him in the cargo hold of the plane. She didn’t know how to hog-tie somebody, but she could figure it out. There was tons of useful information on YouTube.

  He crossed his arms and the motion drew her attention back to his bare chest. He’d always been lean, but he’d grown into a strong, powerful man. Did he still play tennis? When she was younger, she would sit on the steps that led down to the courts and watch him run back and forth hitting balls, grunting with the exertion, the sun browning his skin, his sweat-slickened hair plastered to his face and neck. She swallowed.

  Get a grip, Lauren. Focus.

  “We have to go.”

  He shook his head. “No, not yet. I will see my aunt—”

  “Perfect, I can make that happen.”

  “—but on my schedule, not yours. I’m successful at what I do because I cover every contingency. I need to take care of some things at Pearson Enterprises first.” He strode over and gripped her shoulders. “Do you understand?”

  Heat flooded her body. Her lips parted and she looked at where his hands touched and seared her skin through the fabric of her jacket. She stared up at him, so close she could see the golden striations in his magnificent eyes. She loved his eyes. Remembered them filled with intelligence and fun and a naughty humor she knew she shouldn’t understand. Remembered how it felt when they landed on her by the tingling that stole across her skin. Remembered the last time she saw them, as his thick, dark lashes swept down and his head descended…

  She blinked and stumbled away from him. She was pathetic. One touch and she was practically panting from his nearness. If he knew how she felt, he’d laugh in her face.

  Like the last time.

  “I understand,” she told him. And she did. She might be annoyed that she’d had to make this trip, but now that he knew about Dorothy, he’d come home and see his aunt.

  “You do?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.

  She nodded.

  “No smart-ass retort? Flippant reply?”

  She shook her head.

  “That was…unexpected.” He smiled, his expression at ease and in control. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get dressed.”

  “Okay.” She sank down into the club chair next to his sofa. “I’ll wait.”

  “For what?”

  “For you.”

  “Go home. I’ll fly in this
evening or tomorrow.”

  If only she could. She’d be happy to spend as little time in his presence as possible. She wished she could depend on him, but the man hadn’t been home in ten years. Reliability, when it came to his family, was a concept he hadn’t mastered.

  “Which one? This evening or tomorrow?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll have to see how it goes.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not acceptable. I promised Dorothy I would bring you back to Chicago.”

  “And I’m coming.”

  “I know. With me.”

  “This is ridiculous. Are you going to sit around here all day and wait for me?”

  She wasn’t leaving without him. Dorothy had given her this task and she would complete it to the best of her ability. She had a say in the outcome of this situation, a foreign feeling these last few months.

  But she didn’t plan on waiting for him in his condo like a housebroken puppy. “Of course not. I’m coming with you.”

  “No, you’re not. I can find my way to Chicago.”

  “Ten years’ worth of evidence to the contrary?” She exhaled loudly and smoothed her hair back. “Look, we can go back and forth all morning, but I’m not letting you out of my sight until we get back to Chicago.”

  He stared at her for a long moment.

  She lifted her chin, not breaking eye contact.

  He arched a devilish brow and unbuttoned his pants. He reached for the zipper.

  She shot forward in the chair. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking off my clothes.”

  “Here?”

  “I have to get dressed and you said…”

  Her cheeks tingled and she pressed her palms to them. “Go,” she managed, through clenched teeth.

  Laughing, he turned and headed to his room. Just inside the door, he let his pants drop to pool on the floor at his feet.

  Sweet Jesus.

  Sleek, powerful thighs, sculpted calves and an ass tighter than a box spring.

  He smiled at her over his shoulder. “I’ll be ready in twenty minutes.”

  A little over an hour later, they exited an elevator on the twelfth floor of a downtown DC office building.

  “Welcome to Pearson Enterprises,” Carter said.

  Lauren cursed the telltale flush she knew bloomed on her cheeks. It had been an automatic reaction to him ever since that stunt he pulled before getting dressed. She couldn’t even look at him without flashing on the mental image of his bare ass. Never mind the fact that said ass was now covered in a nicely tailored charcoal gray suit. Dressed, undressed, the man oozed virility. It wasn’t fair.

  “Hey, Carter,” a petite blonde said, entering the elevator car they just vacated.

  “Amanda. Enough with this coy routine. You and me, dinner, next week.”

  She shook her head, waving her index finger at him. “No.”

  “Good,” he said.

  “Wait a minute. Why is that good?” she asked, placing her hand on the door to prevent it from closing.

  “Because a yes is so much better when it starts as a no,” he said, winking.

  Amanda laughed. “You are a wicked man and I don’t aspire to being a notch on your bedpost.”

  “Not a problem. My headboard is leather,” he called out, as the doors shut on her pretty, smiling face.

  Lauren rolled her eyes. “You probably won’t be here next week.”

  “It’s called flirting, LoLo. It’s the way men and women interact in today’s society. You should try it.”

  “Lauren. And if you think that’s appropriate in a work setting, I’m surprised you haven’t been visited by the sexual harassment police.”

  She followed him down a corridor and through tall wooden double doors. A woman sat at the desk, typing on a keyboard. When she spied them, she smiled and crossed to the single-serve coffee machine. “Good morning, Carter,” the woman said, inserting a pod. “Coffee in two minutes.”

  “Thanks, Kimberly,” Carter said. “Find out if Marcus has some free time this morning.”

  He opened a door and led her into a well-appointed office. On the walls were a plaque declaring Pearson Enterprises the city’s newest top developer, and a framed cover of Washingtonian Magazine, featuring Carter’s image with the caption “The City’s Top Lawyers.”

  He sat down behind his desk, tapped his keyboard, and his computer screen blazed to life. There was a brief knock on the door and Kimberly walked in, carrying a steaming cup of coffee. A young man walked in behind her and placed a stack of files on the edge of the desk.

  Lauren moved to the far corner, which gave her a better vantage point to observe the well-choreographed routine centered around Carter.

  “Since when does the general counsel summon the CEO?” A tall, handsome blond man stopped in the doorway.

  Carter laughed and stood up. “Can’t be much of a CEO if he comes.”

  Lauren snorted and the newcomer bent forward, his incredible blue eyes gluing her to the spot. “Hello. I didn’t see you there.” He swiveled his attention back to Carter. “Kimberly didn’t say you were in a meeting.”

  Flushed and flustered, Lauren hurried to correct him. “Oh, we’re not—”

  “This is LoLo, my aunt’s social secretary. LoLo, meet Marcus Pearson, president and CEO of Pearson Enterprises.”

  She resisted the urge to groan and slap her forehead. How could Carter introduce her to the Marcus Pearson that way? She held out her hand. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mr. Pearson. I’m Dr. Lauren Olsen.”

  He grinned and her heart skipped a beat. “Call me Marcus.”

  Carter frowned at her. “Since when are you a doctor?”

  She smiled and cocked her head to the side. “Since I got my Ph.D in art history from the University of Chicago.”

  He held up his hands, palms out. “So you can’t cut anybody, right?”

  “If only I could,” she said in a singsongy tone.

  She switched her attention back to Marcus and caught him watching them, a slight smile playing around his lips. “You have to meet my wife, Pamela. She would love to show you around the museums, especially the Smithsonian.”

  “That sounds great. Perhaps another time? I don’t plan to be in town long.”

  “Oh? Are you here on business?”

  “It hasn’t been a pleasure,” Carter muttered.

  She ignored him and told Marcus, “I’m here to take Carter back home to Chicago.”

  Marcus looked at Carter. “What’s going on?”

  Carter shot her a look. “It’s my aunt. She’s sick. She has ca—”

  He clenched his hands.

  “Cancer,” Lauren said. “His aunt has cancer and she needs Carter to come home.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Marcus said. He shook his head. “Go home, be with your family. If you need anything, Pamela and I are only a couple of hours away.”

  Carter cleared his throat. “Thanks. Are you planning a trip today?”

  “Nope.”

  Carter pressed a button on his desk phone. “Kimberly, call the charter company and reserve a private flight to Chicago. One-way.”

  Marcus clasped Carter’s right hand and pulled him in for a brief hug, thumping him on the back with his fist. “Keep me updated.”

  Carter glared at Lauren. “Take a seat. I need to do a few things before I can leave.”

  She did. Despite his gruff tone, there was a lightness in her chest that she recognized. It was the satisfaction that came from accomplishing a goal. And yet the experience wasn’t as simple as she’d first thought. Seeing Carter again stirred up disturbing emotions she wished her body would forget. And that was only after a few hours. How would she handle days, possibly weeks, in his presence? By making sure she had as little contact with him as possible. If she pushed him to spend time with Dorothy, and kept her own distance, there was no reason these re-awakened feelings couldn’t enter hibernation once again.

  Chapter Three
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br />   A jet was fueled and waiting for them an hour south in Manassas. Less than twelve hours after LoLo first appeared on his doorstep, they’d disembarked in Chicago, transferred to a black Lincoln Town Car, and were making their way north to his family’s estate in Lake Forest.

  LoLo checked the time on her phone. “We’ll get stuck in rush hour traffic, an occurrence I was trying to avoid.”

  He knew her comment was a dig at his refusal to drop everything and come to heel, but he’d be damned if he would dance to her tune. After they’d finally left Pearson Enterprises, he ran two more errands before they’d returned to his condo. Once there, he’d started packing, only to recall a few work-related tasks he needed to relay to his staff. LoLo had stood watching, her hands jammed on her hips, her face sporting a perma-scowl. He’d half expected her to knock him over the head and drag him to the airport.

  He smiled at her now. “That gives us more time to spend together…alone.”

  She snorted. “The less time we spend together, the happier we’ll both be.”

  “I don’t know,” he said, trailing his fingers along the seat between them, his touch briefly grazing her leg. His hand twitched and awareness arrowed through his body. “I’m pretty happy right now.”

  She shifted on the seat next to him, crossing that leg over the other and giving him a nice view of the back of her head.

  His smile faded as he studied her. She’d flown over fourteen hundred miles round trip wearing the same suit and she looked as poised and polished now as she probably had when she’d gotten dressed the day before. She was clenched so tightly, she’d probably find diamonds in her panties tonight.

  What in the hell happened to her? Sure, she was stunning. His body would testify to that every day and twice on Sundays. But the clothes, the demeanor. It was all wrong. She’d been a spirited girl with a sharp tongue that leaned toward witty observations, who’d found equal joy in good food, good sports, and good books, and whose beautiful, untamed curls preceded her into every room and bounced in her wake. Where was that fiery young woman? What explained her transformation into a sarcastic, statuesque beauty so frosty he could see his breath every time he stood within six inches of her?