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“Same to you,” Heath said, his tone genuine. “Season’s blessings, buddy.”
“Season’s blessings.” Daveed gave a curt nod in Aileen’s direction, then disappeared out into the party crowds again.
“Well, that could’ve gone better,” she said, facing Heath again.
He’d picked up his desk phone and hit a speed dial button, watching her. “Could’ve gone a lot worse too.” Heath sat forward and frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as he spoke to the person on the other end of the line. “Yes, this is Heath Goldwin. I’m calling about the holiday bonuses for BrightStart Media. I’ve changed my mind. Let’s do five thousand. Yes. Per person. Thanks. Happy Holidays.” He hung up and narrowed his gaze on a still gaping Aileen. “What?”
“Are you seriously giving each of your employees a five-grand bonus?” She blinked hard.
“Yep. They deserve it. The company wouldn’t be what it was, where it was, without them. I like to reward hard work appropriately. Is that a problem?”
Speechless, Aileen sat back. She’d gotten a generic card and fifty-dollar gift card from The Globe. And that was even more than most of the other employees got. The fact Heath didn’t seem to see anything unusual in what he’d done only emphasized the major differences between their worlds. She had to save and scrap for every cent. Heath dispersed nearly a million dollars in bonuses without a second thought. Her heart sank. They’d shared a steamy night together and she’d started to entertain ideas about a repeat performance, maybe several repeats, maybe even continuing their tryst after this whole investigation was over, but that seemed farther out of reach than ever now.
They were just too different.
The sooner Aileen realized that, the better.
* * *
“Are you ready?” Heath called down the hallway toward Aileen’s room. He finished up sending Daveed the links to Aileen’s cloud storage files for her research as he spoke. The more time he spent with her, the worse this situation sat with him, but it was for the greater good. Heath and his team needed to know what information she had so they could best design a plan to catch the senator. It wasn’t personal. It was business. “We’re going to be late as it is.”
Each Christmas Eve since Heath had been a kid, his family had attended the annual Winter Treasures Ball and Antiquities Auction at the glorious 583 Park Avenue—a magnificent 1920s-era venue in the heart of midtown Manhattan. It was a place for the über- rich to mix and mingle and dispense with some of their hard-earned cash for a good cause. All the funds raised went to local at-risk-youth programs and after-school education programs. Heath wasn’t about to miss it this year, even if his date was a bit reluctant. Not only would his father—whom Heath needed to speak with about garnering more information about Senator Lawrence and EnKor— be there, but he also expected several of EnKor’s primary investors to be there as well. He wanted to speak with them, find out what made them give money to the cause in the first place and allow them a safe way out of their investment without too much time or any lost revenue.
“Fine. I’m here,” Aileen said from behind him. “Not too sure about this outfit though.”
Heath closed the laptop and turned slowly, his eyes widening as he took in every luscious inch of her.
His Aileen looked decidedly not business at all. More like his personal fantasy come to life and, well… exquisitely stunning.
My Aileen?
The crazy notion jolted Heath from his thoughts, though he couldn’t stop himself from walking toward her and drinking in the vision she presented. No wig for her tonight. Nope. Her sleek dark hair hung in a straight, shimmering curtain to her jawline, where the severe angle of the cut only accentuated the delicate bone structure of her face. The gown she’d chosen from the clothes he’d had sent over days earlier was breathtaking. A curve hugging sheath of nude-colored satin, strapless on one side to expose a single creamy shoulder, and with a large scarlet satin bow on the other shoulder to match the fall of hand-embroidered and hand-beaded flowers spilling down the front of the dress to just below the waist. The red color perfectly matched the color of Aileen’s lips and only highlighted the pale velvet beauty of her skin.
Heath just blinked at her for several seconds, completely intoxicated and utterly speechless.
“You hate it, don’t you?” Aileen said, her shoulders slumping, and turned to leave. “Let me change one last time and I’ll—”
“No.” Heath took her wrist to stop her, unable to keep himself from stroking his thumb over her thudding pulse point there. “No. Please. Aileen, you look… amazing. Gorgeous.”
She peeked back at him, her voice tentative. “I do?”
“I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman in my life.” Truth. Some of his conviction must have resonated in his tone because Aileen finally faced him, her lush, full lips curving upward into a dazzling smile that left him both in awe and more turned on than he could ever remember.
“Thank you.” She smoothed her hand down the lapel of his designer tux, then straightened his bow tie. “You look pretty spectacular yourself, though I miss the scruff.”
He’d shaved for the party, knowing his father would only give him shit about the beard. Feeling a bit unsure of himself, he rubbed his hand over his smooth jaw. “Yeah? I feel kind of naked without it.”
“Hmm.” Her palm rested over his heart. “We’ll have to see if we can do something about that later, eh? Maybe being naked for real will help.”
All the moisture in his mouth dried as images of their last steamy tryst flooded his mind—them entwined on the mat in the gym downstairs, all grinding and stroking and breathless sighs. It was enough to make his twitching cock half hard and press uncomfortably against the fly of his expensive trousers.
Sporting a boner at the ball wasn’t acceptable, so he took her hand and tugged Aileen toward the front door, hoping the cold outside would help to dampen his libido. On the way, he grabbed the long faux sable coat he’d ordered for her from the closet and helped her into it. Heath didn’t bother with a jacket himself. Hell, his body temperature was high enough at that moment to fuel a nuclear power plant.
“What were you doing on my computer?” she asked, her gaze never leaving his.
“Oh.” Pressure built inside his chest, along with a lingering sense of guilt. He’d tell her what was going on. Eventually. Just not tonight. Tonight was all about magic and Christmas splendor and he wanted to stay inside their little bubble of joy just a few hours longer. “I wanted to check a few emails. Sorry.
Yours was there and I was in a hurry, and I should’ve asked, but…”
