He should have paged the temporary receptionist and had her escort this enigmatic woman out of his office. He should have told her there had been a mistake. He should have remembered that he no longer gambled with chance. Then he should’ve called and found out why the woman who’d begged her brother for a date with him was late.
Instead, the mystery woman spoke. “Good evening, Mr. Burke,” the blonde said.
He waited for her to continue. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. A strand of her long hair fell from her bun. She tucked the errant hair behind her ear and squared her shoulders as if preparing for battle.
“Yes?” he murmured. She didn’t belong here, but, damn, she was intriguing. His days revolved around the expected—commitments, appointments, responsibilities. This stranger had marched in and presented him with a mystery.
She stepped closer to his desk and planted her feet. Her blue eyes locked on his. The determination in her steady gaze distracted from her dazzling lips, which were literally sparkling. She didn’t belong here. But she wasn’t going to let that stop her.
Carter studied her mouth. His office now smelled oddly of berries and sugar.
I wonder if she tastes like berries, too.
There was only one way to find out. And it promised to be a helluva lot more entertaining than taking a social-climbing model to a party as a favor to a man who essentially worked for him.
He could unravel this conundrum now, learn her name and her reason for bursting into his office on a Friday evening, and then send her away. Judging from her battle-ready poise, she might protest. But he would win. Carter Burke always won.
I spend my whole damn life buried behind spreadsheets now. Studying numbers to stay at the top of my game.
He could send her away right this minute. Or he could let the mystery play out. Tonight. At the gala. When was the last time he’d chased the unexpected?
“Mr. Burke,” the mystery woman began again. “I’m Ivy Grant and—”
“I’ve been expecting you.” He smiled, but did not stand and extend his hand. This wasn’t business. Not tonight.
Her brow furrowed. “You have?”
“Indeed.” He spoke with the confidence he’d learned in the military and sharpened in the boardroom. “I look forward to attending the charity event with you this evening. I humbly thank you for agreeing to be my date. My assistant is at the Pierre Hotel. I have a suite of rooms reserved for you. I have also taken the liberty of providing a gown and everything else you may need.”
“Your date?” The words slipped through her sparkly lips. “For tonight?”
He nodded. He had a reputation for quick thinking that had saved lives while he’d served in the Special Forces, and held together deals when he’d entered the business arena. But he’d never gone to these lengths for an unfamiliar woman.
Because other women deliver the expected.
He picked up the cell resting on his desk. “Shall I have my driver meet you downstairs?”
She stared at him for a moment. He expected her to set him straight. He waited for Ivy Grant to laugh and tell him that her husband or boyfriend would object to his plan for the evening. He hadn’t spotted a ring on her left hand, but a woman with those lips, with that fire in her eyes, that passion…there must be someone, man or woman, in her life.
I bet she doesn’t allow work to rule her life.
“You will meet me at the hotel?” she asked.
“I will be there at seven, Ms. Grant.”
She nodded. “Tell your driver I won’t be needing his services. I’ll take my car to the hotel.”
Then she turned briskly and walked out of his office. Carter stared out of the wall of glass. She had to have known there was some mistake. But she still went for it—she was playing along.
“Who are you, Ivy Grant?” he murmured to the empty office.
And what am I doing pursuing you?
An adventure. A thrill. A mystery. A change of pace from profit and loss statements, and from women who bored him.
He dialed his executive assistant and barked out orders, demanding that the fifty-something woman who ran his life with the precision of a five-star general execute the plan he’d spelled out to his date. “And Mrs. Lindsey, while you’re seeing to the arrangements, have someone find out who Ivy Grant is.”
He ended the call and then dialed his associate. He left a message canceling his plans with the man’s sister. He didn’t bother offering an explanation. He didn’t have one, beyond losing his mind over a strang