“Shit,” Ally cursed as the closet door caught her nylons, starting a snag that turned into a very long run in her panty hose. She watched as she turned her leg to look at it, irritated as she watched it go from her knee to her ankle. Snatching her black heels, she dropped them on the floor and fastened the black, gray, and red belt around her waist, adding some color to the drab dress. At least she could breathe in the ugly dress. It had a fuller skirt to accommodate her curvy hips.
Rifling through her dresser drawer, desperate to find another pair of black hose, the only thing she came up with was an ultra-thin pair of stockings and a black garter belt. “Crap,” she said, annoyed with herself for not stocking up again on panty hose. She eyed the sexy black ensemble warily, having dug to the bottom of her drawer to uncover it. She’d bought it on a whim a few years ago, and had only worn it once, when she and Rick were supposedly going out for a romantic evening to celebrate Valentine’s Day. Unfortunately, Rick had called her to cancel, claiming he had to study. She’d undressed and went to bed, washing the lingerie and never bothering to wear it again, feeling more than a little bit silly for trying to spice up their sex life. Rick had been too busy, too tired all the time. Now, Ally had to wonder if her ex-fiancé had been full of shit, even then. Just that thought made Ally want to trash the lingerie, but she was desperate, so she quickly put on the stockings, garter belt, and the sexy black panties that went with the set. It didn’t matter. They were black stockings, and nobody would ever know that they were attached to a f**k-me set of lingerie.
Ally cringed as she heard the doorbell ring, putting her heels on carefully so she didn’t snag the last pair of stockings she had. “How in the hell am I going to look him in the eye after asking him to kiss me? Maybe he won’t say anything. He knew I’d had a few drinks,” she whispered to herself hopefully.
Actually, she hadn’t been drunk when she’d asked Travis to kiss her. The alcohol had lessened her inhibitions, but she’d desperately wanted to feel what it would be like to have that sinful mouth of his on hers. Asking him to kiss her was possibly the most impetuous thing she’d ever done. He was her boss, for God’s sake, and a man who could have any woman he wanted. Still, those important facts hadn’t stopped her longing to see what his kiss would feel like just once. Ever since Travis had told her how desirable she was, Ally had wanted to see if his kiss backed up his words. Knowing Travis, he’d probably act like he didn’t remember, or maybe it wouldn’t even be important enough for him to recall.
She raced down the stairs as fast as her heels would allow, breathless by the time she opened the door. Travis looked immaculate as usual, but his stance was casual, his hands in the pockets of his suit pants. Ally’s breath caught as she took in his black designer suit, the only relief from the darkness of the outfit some small navy and gray stripes on his tie.
“Good morning, Ms. Caldwell,” Travis said huskily. “I trust you’re recovered?” His dark eyes perused her thoroughly, as though looking for any signs of a hangover.
“I-I’m fine,” Ally answered nervously, opening the door wider so he could enter, hating herself for being anxious. She couldn’t show any weaknesses to Travis. The man was like a shark that could scent blood in the water. If he knew he had her rattled, he’d swoop in for the kill. It was a trait that made him a good businessman, but a dangerous adversary. “Let me grab my purse and a cup of coffee to take with me. Would you like one?”
Travis sauntered into the living room, and Ally closed the door behind him.
“I’m not in any hurry,” Travis said casually. “Take your time.”
Ally looked at Travis, dumbfounded. Since when wasn’t he in a hurry? The man never wasted a single moment, working like a fiend every moment of the day. She turned, slightly confused, and walked into the kitchen, her heels clicking against the polished wood of the floor as she took down two mugs and poured the coffee that she’d set up to brew on a timer the night before. Quickly adding creamer to her coffee, she left Travis’s black the way he liked it, and headed quickly back to the living room. Travis had his back to her, looking at her bookshelves that lined an entire wall in her living room. She’d been planning on moving most of them into one of the spare rooms to use as a library, but she hadn’t bothered. She’d be moving soon anyway. “Here you go.” Ally handed him his mug carefully.
Travis turned to her and raised a brow. “You do realize, Ms. Caldwell, that you actually brought me my coffee today.”
“Don’t get used to it,” she mumbled over the rim of her coffee before taking a careful sip.
Travis smirked as he said, “You have eclectic reading tastes. I think you have everything from the classics to non-fiction to do-it-yourself books here.”
Ally shrugged uncomfortably. “I like to read.”
“What’s this?” Travis asked curiously, pulling out a plain, bound manuscript.
She leaped forward, trying to pull the bound sheets from his fingers. “Nothing of interest,” she told him adamantly. “Give it to me.”
“It has your name on it. Did you write it?” There was no scorn in his voice, only curiosity, as he held the manuscript out of her reach.
“Yes,” Ally answered irritably.
Setting his coffee down on one of the shelves, he flipped through the pages. “You’re a writer?”
“I’m an assistant and a secretary. And I’m a bartender. Writing was just a dream.”
“Why?” Travis’s gaze locked with hers, his dark eyes questioning.
“Because I wasn’t good enough to be published. I have the rejection letters to prove it,” she answered, annoyed. “Rick told me to quit dreaming and work harder at something that actually paid a wage. And he was right. We were tight on money. I needed an extra job where I actually got paid—”
“Is this a fantasy novel?” Travis interrupted, his concentration on the manuscript.
“Yes,” Ally admitted. “Young adult fantasy. It’s a series. I never quite finished the second book.” Not that she wasn’t itching to write the story, but there was just never a moment where she had the time to write. Someday she would finish the series, even if she couldn’t get it published.
“I’d like to read it,” Travis said thoughtfully, closing the manuscript gently and placing it next to his coffee. “So the bastard basically took everything away from you,” Travis stated quietly, his voice low and dangerous.