His grip tightened around her waist as he guided her toward the wall of sliding glass on the far side of his living room. “Might change your mind once you step outside. I can see straight into Brooklyn from here.”
He released her and pulled open the door. “Go ahead.”
She stepped onto the balcony. Bypassing the lounge chairs, table, and grill, she walked to the ledge and placed her hands on the metal railing. “From one angle you have Manhattan skyscrapers, and from another Brooklyn. A view of where you came from and where you ended up.”
He moved beside her, covering her left hand with his right. “You’re one of the few people I’ve brought up here who noticed.”
“Most women are probably overwhelmed by your dashing good looks,” she teased.
“And you’re not?”
“I was. When I first walked into your office. But I’ve been in the trenches with you, escaping museum security and setting off alarms.” She remained focused on the view. “Why do you look back?”
“I made a promise to Mom.”
“To never forget Brooklyn?” she asked.
He shook his head. “When I was a kid, my mom took me all over the city. One day—I forget where we were headed, but it’s not important—we were walking by the tall, fancy buildings by Central Park and I promised her she would live there. I told her that I’d buy her the best apartment in the whole city.”
“And you kept that promise,” she said. “But you didn’t want a park view for yourself?”
“I don’t want the city’s most expensive real estate.”
“A lower Manhattan penthouse is pretty darn close to the top,” she pointed out.
Talking a hold of her hand, he drew her away from the railing. “When you reach that pinnacle, owning the best of everything, there’s no place else to go. Succes
s is measured by staying there, not the challenge of the climb.”
“We’re not talking about apartments anymore,” she murmured.
“No, we’re not.” He pulled her in his arms. His palms pressed against her lower back. “I don’t let people down. Not my mother or my shareholders. In order to keep climbing, I need to do what is best for my business.”
“Even if it means closing my lab,” she said softly.
“Yes.”
He released his hold on her and stepped back. There were no alarms here. Security wasn’t on their trail, and they were no longer on a public terrace in Central Park. He didn’t need to let her go. And he sure as hell didn’t want to stop touching her. But he had to know if she felt the same pull.
“Ivy, I want you to stay. But not because you want to win funding.”
Her fingers followed his pleated tux shirt up to the top button. “You’re tired of hearing my arguments?”
He shook his head. “No. But you can make your case in my office on Monday. I’ll clear my calendar. I’ll make time to meet with you. If you stay, do it because you want to—because you want me.”
“I shouldn’t like you, Carter Burke.”
He felt her fingers against his chest, working to free the top button.
“You’re my personal devil,” she continued.
“That bad?” He held her close as she went to work on the second button.
“You’re threatening my work. And yet…”
She released a third button. Then she slipped her hands inside his shirt. Her palms pressed against his bare skin.
“And yet, you’re a good man,” she said.