A Fated Night - Page 53

She should be proud. Ken remained leaning back in his chair, far back and short enough that Lana probably couldn’t see him. Although he swore her eyes searched the room more than once. Not everyone breaks the kind of records that she has. Not everyone got the kind of job offers that Ken was supposed to give her.

No, no. He couldn’t do that. Her working for him would never, well, work.

Lana stood at the podium, absentmindedly pushing hair out of her face and occasionally giggling in excitement. When she dropped the cold, professional façade, she let the world see a much softer side of her. That didn’t work for her in the real working world. It did, however, make Ken hate himself even more.

She gave a short speech thanking the committee that awarded her for her achievements, then jumped into talking about her work history and what her plans for the future were. Ken knew he should be listening with rapt attention, considering his own history with this woman and all, but he was… distracted. With her.

Lana had become more than a gorgeous woman Ken had a conference fling with. That kind of woman wouldn’t be stuck in his head for hours a time. She wouldn’t haunt him while he dined with colleagues and made plans for real estate world domination. She wouldn’t blow up his email with flirtatious requests that he spank her again their last night together. Don’t give me ideas. After what Lana did to him once the ropes switched hands? He might need a spanking too.

That was the rub, wasn’t it? He had exposed much of his own sexual history and proclivities to her. The kind of stuff that sent most women he dated screaming. Finding one who made his heart flutter and was interested in hearing about the kinkier stuff he got involved with when he thought nobody was paying attention? Ken never thought the day would come, let alone at an innocuous conference he attended because it was conveniently located.

At first, it had been fun knowing that he was the only man at that conference who had actually managed to touch her, to kiss her, to make her come over and over again. Ken would never forget the way she sighed in his mouth when she was about to climax, or how the depths of her body loved to suck him in deeper. No, they wouldn’t know because men like them didn’t hold her interest. She wanted a mature man who knew when it was time to put down his work and love on her – and let her love on him. Lana liked money. She adored success. She was willing to work her ass off to gain more of both in her life. Would it be so crazy to think that she could run her own firm within another ten years? Possibly own half of Manhattan? Or were those Ken’s dreams?

We could never work for the same agency. Not as equals, and not as boss and subordinate. Their work culture fostered competition. Employees who started hooking up either dropped it immediately or decided who was going to quit. Ken sleeping with Lana while they both worked for Lois & Bachman would make the other employees resentful (because clearly that meant he would show her favoritism in exchange for her pussy) and tarnish her reputation she had carefully crafted over the years. Nobody would take her accomplishments and merits seriously anymore. They would think Ken had ensured her success for his own romantic gains.

The idea was doomed. There was no way she could work for Lois & Bachman.

No, wait. There was no way they both could work for Lois & Bachman.

Ken’s mind danced between thoughts of Lana in his bed and fantasies of the kind of life he wished to have one day. What did he really want? His own business, working for himself? A wife? A house in the countryside or a penthouse in the middle of the city? A damn dog? Six cats that constantly fought with one another? Three cars, only one of which he ever used? Live-in staff? A driver? Private jet? What the fuck did Ken want?

Her. He sucked in his breath when Lana stepped away from the podium for one last photo-op, her dress hugging her body like he wanted to hug her in turn. I want her. Tonight. Tomorrow. Forever.

The bastard was in love. In as little as three days the fates had conspired to pair him with the only woman who could ever be his real equal, both professionally and sexually. If he couldn’t find a way to make something work between them, he might as well give up everything had had worked for. Because what would be the point, otherwise?

Tags: Cynthia Dane Billionaire Romance
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