Mira

"Don't you think you ought to ask me first?"

"If I already know the answer, I don't ask the question."

"We need to work on your manners. You're sorely lacking in them."

He leans down to whisper in my ear.

"You weren't complaining about my bad manners the other night."

"Of course not. Every woman wants a gentleman in her life who turns into a beast in bed," I murmur low enough that my coworkers can't hear.

His eyes light up, and he inclines his head.

"Forgive me, then. Will you do me the honor of joining me tomorrow evening for dinner, followed by cocktails?"

"Cocktails? Are you sure that's all that will follow?"

I lift an eyebrow playfully. Elliot laughs, and I immediately join him. The spark in his eyes warms me from head to toe, which makes my next comment even harder.

"I can't go out with you tomorrow. We have an evening meeting to settle the final details of some of the proposals."

"That's convenient. I'm the boss."

"No! That would be an abuse of power."

"What's the point of having all this power if I can't use it?"

I stare at him, dumbfounded.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."

"Pretend whatever you like. It won't change anything."

"But,"

"Either you text Tessa, or I will," he challenges.

I glare at him.

"Your bossy side is losing its charm."

Elliot presses the softest kiss to my cheek.

"We'll have to test that theory in other situations so you can be certain."

"You're always so thorough in everything you do."

He grins from ear to ear.

"See you tomorrow night?"

He walks away, taking the scent of his cologne and his addictive pheromones with him.

"And answer your messages from now on," he calls back.

"Sure, once I've replaced my phone."

I point to a bowl filled with rice.

"Are you going to explain that?"

"Better not."

I can't stop smiling even after he leaves, because tomorrow I'm going to dinner with Elliot G. (middle name still unknown) Vale.

Power comes from many sources. Tonight, mine comes from the expression on Elliot's face when I step out of my apartment.

"You look like... a princess."

I beam as I run a hand over the billowing tulle of my yellow dress. My mother made it for me after I raved about a similar outfit worn by a celebrity. Against my brown skin, the fabric reminds me of the first rays of sunrise.

Elliot's gaze turns heated as his eyes travel from my corset to my full skirt.

While he admires me, I take my time admiring him too. Of all his suits, the one he's wearing tonight is by far my favorite. I wonder if he knows. The way the royal-blue fabric hugs his body makes me want to forget dinner and invite him straight inside.

Our eyes meet, and he curses when he sees my expression. Before I can say a word, he takes my hand and leads me away, muttering under his breath.

"Garfield."

Elliot's hand tightens on my thigh.

"You've got to be kidding. No."

He hasn't stopped touching me since I climbed into his Rolls-Royce. Apparently, the Vales have reached the level of wealth at which they no longer need to drive their own cars. At first, I thought it was ridiculous. Then I quickly came to appreciate the freedom it gives Elliot to stroke my thigh during the ride. Despite all the layers of tulle, my skin burns with every movement of his fingers.

I glance again at the list I saved after spending some time puzzling over Elliot's middle name. I scoured the internet, including shady websites demanding large sums for background checks, before settling on a list of baby names.

Except I've already tried twenty or so, with no success.

"Gary."

Silent laughter shakes his chest.

"No."

"Gertrude."

"That's a woman's name."

"Your mother could have been progressive."

Damn. I hadn't meant to mention her. The Vales are a locked vault when it comes to Elliot's mother. All the public knows is that she died after a terrible battle with cancer.

He squeezes my thigh as if to reassure me.

"My mother had many virtues, but even she wasn't that progressive. Thankfully."

"Hmm. Okay! What about Glen?"

"You'll never guess, so you might as well give up now."

I pout.

"I'm not a quitter."

He brushes his thumb over my lower lip, sending a hot shiver through me.

"I know, and to reward you, I'll tell you the story behind my middle name. But first you have to swear to keep it secret."

He cups my face in his calloused hand.

"A kiss in exchange for a secret?"

"I've never heard of that game."

I give him a small, crooked smile.

"That's because it belongs only to us."

My heart warms at the thought of us having something of our own.

"I already like it."

His hand curls around the back of my neck and draws me toward him. His mouth presses gently to mine at first before giving way to devouring hunger. Goose bumps rise across my skin as Elliot brands my lips with his tongue.

He kisses me until I'm breathless and panting.

When he stops, his gaze fixes on the window behind me and darkens. Seeing him like this makes my heart ache.

"I can stop guessing, you know. You don't have to tell me."

"We have a deal."

He lets out a resigned sigh that does nothing to ease my concern.

"I rarely talk about my mother."

I squeeze his trembling hand. He clings to mine like a lifeline, gripping so hard my fingers turn white.

"Some of my memories are blurry because I was very young, but I remember that my mother loved King Arthur."

"Really? Was she a history buff?"

Elliot gives me a knowing look, and I give him a quick kiss in exchange for his next secret. When I pull away, he draws me against his chest and kisses me passionately, as though he needs more courage.

Maybe he isn't looking for love, but he is looking to heal. I can help him with that, since I've been through it myself.

After releasing me, he takes a few deep breaths before continuing.

"My mother was obsessed with history and stories that bordered on fantasy. In fact, that passion is how my parents met."

He pauses as though unsure whether he wants to continue.

"Will you tell me more? Please?"

I kiss his cheek.

"She worked at the tutoring center at the university they both attended. My father went into the building to find a friend whose car was in the shop. My mother was working at the front desk and asked whether he needed help."

"And?"

"My father, who was a model student, signed up for an entire semester of tutoring in a class he wasn't even taking."

"No way!" I exclaim with a laugh.

His parents' story might be even better than mine,though, of course, I would never tell my parents that.

"Yes. My mother even edited his fake essays about King Arthur and his knights."

"I see lying is a family trait."

He gives me a mocking smile.

"We Vales do whatever it takes to get what we want."

"You mean you're all ruthless," I tease.

He chuckles.

"How did your father persuade her to date him after pretending for so long?"

I'm desperate to hear more, partly because the hopeless romantic in me demands it.

"I don't remember."

Elliot presses his lips together and tightens his hold on my hand. My heart hurts for his father. Even though I've heard about his questionable business decisions, I feel compassion for a man who lost his wife. The effort he went to just to spend time with the girl he liked touches me.

And I feel even more empathy for the children she left behind.

To comfort Elliot, I stroke his hand, then restart the conversation.

"So what does that story have to do with your middle name?"

"My mother gave us the names of the Knights of the Round Table."

"That's a lot of responsibility. They found the Holy Grail, or something like that, right?"

"Something like that."

The corners of his mouth lift, and the tension seems to leave him all at once, like a draft slipping away.

"I didn't get the worst of it. Adrian is the one who has to introduce himself as Adrian Lancelot Vale for the rest of his life."

I giggle at the thought of his older brother being forced to bear that cross forever. Lancelot? Really?

"And you? Mr. R. G. Vale?"

"Galahad," he mutters, his cheeks faintly flushed.

"Aww, that's adorable!"

"I'm the liar here, so stop it."

I nudge his shoulder.

"I mean it! The story makes the name even more precious."

"If you tell anyone, I'll have to..."

"Yes, yes. Fire me. I get it."

"No, fuck you. But if role-play is your thing, we can pretend I'm firing you. I'd be more than happy to provide that service."

"Did you just make a sex joke? I'm scandalized," I say haughtily while fanning my face.

Elliot shakes his head as if I'm the craziest person he's ever met.

I hold out my hand.

"You have a deal, Mr. Vale."