One Date: BBW Contemporary Romance (The Hawkins Brothers Part 1) Read online

  Her skin looked pale, and almost—luminous. She had always liked herself in blue, but this—God, this color made her glow. The halter gave her more cleavage than she’d ever had, the plunging V almost too daring. As long as she didn’t bend over, or breathe too deeply, she might be all right.

  The skirt skimmed over her full hips, draping beautifully. Every time she moved the silk embroidery shimmered. She let out a laugh and twirled, watching the skirt bell out around her. When Marcus had told her he would send her a gown, she didn’t know what to expect. But this—it felt like a dream, and she looked…beautiful.

  “Yes, you do,” she whispered to her wide-eyed self. The simple makeup and clear lip gloss played up her features just enough. Tonight, the gown was her bold statement. She wasn’t even going to wear earrings. But her hair—she needed to do something with the long, curly mess. “Upsweep—that will take care of you.”

  She moved into her tiny bathroom, grabbed a handful of pins out of the blue glass jar on her counter, and twisted her hair up, leaving a few tendrils to frame her face. Nodding at herself, she had just enough time to slip into her black ballet flats before the doorbell rang.

  Her heart started pounding again, and she pressed one hand to her stomach. This time it would be Marcus at the door, or more likely, his driver, coming to whisk her away to what could be the best night of her life, or the most disastrous.

  She took a semi-deep breath, picking up her small black bag as she walked to the door, and glanced through the peephole. Marcus stood there himself, drool worthy in a tux that was obviously tailored for him. He was clean shaven, not wearing his glasses. That made him less approachable. Part of her appreciated that, since it would make the evening easier if she didn’t feel the need to touch him every other second. The other part wished for the sexy, scruffy nerd who left her flustered every time he looked at her.

  Marcus raised his head and smiled, like he knew she was there, staring at him. She jerked back, fought to calm herself, and opened the door.

  “For a second there, I thought you had chickened out…” His voice faded as he studied her. He looked—stunned. “Turn around.” His voice was rough, demanding. Leah obeyed, sure she had offended him before the evening even started. “Good God.” He cleared his throat. “You’ve been hiding yourself quite well, Miss Frane. I knew there was a luscious figure under all those layers, but I had no idea. You will be the surprise tonight. Shall we?”

  He held out his arm, and Leah took it, still numb from his comment.

  Did he call her luscious? Marcus Hawkins, with more money than God and any woman he could possibly want just a smile away? She had to be delirious. That was it—too much excitement, too little food.

  She walked with him to the elevator, and started to slide her hand off his arm. He gripped her fingers with his free hand and held her there, his dark blue eyes studying her under the dim lights. It took all her control to breathe normally, to act like having a tall, gorgeous man loom over her in the elevator was normal.

  When they reached the white stretch limo, he ignored the driver and helped her in himself. Leah refused to be disappointed when he sat in the seat opposite her. This was not a date. He may have called it a date, but it was a work function. She had to keep reminding herself, every second if necessary.

  Marcus didn’t talk at all on the way to the museum where the event was being held. Instead he stared out the window, like she wasn’t even there. That kind of behavior would make it incredibly easy to keep from making a fool of herself.

  She leaned back and decided to just enjoy the butter soft leather against her back, the smooth ride. When the driver pulled up in front, Marcus waited for him to open the door, sitting still while the driver helped Leah out of the limo.

  “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, miss.” He winked at her. “Enjoy your evening.”

  She smiled, then turned toward the museum, gasping in surprise. The white marble portico was lit up with colors that changed every few seconds, creating a kaleidoscope out of the building. Well-dressed couples climbed the stairs, the multicolored lights picking out jewels and the shimmer of expensive gowns.

  The realization that she didn’t belong here had her backing up. Right into Marcus.

  “You’re going the wrong way, Leah.” He laid his hand on the small of her back and she jumped as his fingers spread over her bare skin. Swallowing, she clutched her small bag and let him guide her to the wide staircase. “This is where being the boss comes in handy.”

  He led her up past the long line. The man checking invitations glanced up, and immediately stepped aside. “Welcome, Mr. Hawkins.”

  “Thank you, Neill. Don’t forget to enjoy yourself once everyone’s inside.”

  A smile flashed across Neill’s face. “You bet.” His gaze moved to Leah. He wasn’t more than a few inches taller than her own five foot two. “Who’s this? I have Miss Deveaux on the list as your companion tonight.”

  Leah smothered a groan. Cassie Deveaux—the most stunning cover model in the business. She was the type Marcus Hawkins usually had on his arm. Not a nobody like her.

  “This is Leah Frane. She graciously stepped in when Cassie cancelled on me.”

  Neill raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. Instead, he turned his attention, and his dark, kind eyes on Leah. “A pleasure, Miss Frane.”

  “This is Neill, my head of security.” Marcus laughed at her surprised glance. “Don’t let his stature fool you. I’d trust him with my life. I have, more times than I can count. If you need anything and I’m not close by, find Neill.”

  Marcus looked so serious she nodded, managing a smile. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Neill.”

  “Enjoy the festivities, boss.” To her surprise, Neill took her hand and kissed it. “The pleasure was all mine, Leah.”

  Marcus let out a low growl, and Neill dropped her hand. Before she could ask what the hell that was all about, Marcus practically dragged her into the museum. She grabbed her skirt and lifted it to keep from tripping and making a bigger fool of herself. Marcus was already doing a fine job of that, pulling her after him like she was a disobedient child.

  “Mr. Hawkins—” Leah could barely keep up with his long strides—and she was seriously afraid her breasts might just bounce out of the halter if he didn’t slow down.

  She got her wish. He stopped, so fast she ran into him. After she checked to make sure she was still in the halter, she heard the muttering—or more precisely, the swearing. When she stepped to his side she saw the reason.

  Cassie Deveaux stood in the center of a group of men, laughing, her long, perfect blonde hair flying around her bare shoulders. She froze when she saw Marcus.

  He reached over and grabbed Leah’s hand, twining their fingers together when she tried to extricate herself. Cassie flashed a smile at her admirers before she strode over to them.

  “Marcus. What a lovely—”

  “I thought you were on your way to Paris. That’s what your assistant told my brother.”

  She frowned. “I received a message from your assistant, stating that you would not be attending.”

  The muscles in his jaw twitched. “You’re standing in front of my assistant. Why don’t you ask her if she gave you that message?”

  Cassie raised one elegant blonde eyebrow. “Since the message was from a male, I am going with the theory that we were both…” Her voice faded, clear green eyes narrowing. “Graham.”

  “I’ll deal with this,” Marcus said. His deep voice sounded dangerous. Leah started to ease back, but he tightened his grip on her hand and pulled her after him. “Keep up, Miss Frane. I need a witness so I don’t strangle him.”

  ***

  Marcus fought with his temper all the way across the huge foyer of the museum. He almost had it under control, and Leah’s warm hand clasped in his certainly helped. It also surprised him, that just her touch calmed him like this. No woman had ever—

  Do not go there.

  This was a whim, a single evening with his employee. Not a date, no matter what he told her. It was an evening. One evening. He had to stop thinking of her as his date. Had to stop fantasizing about kissing those soft, full lips, bare except for a hint of gloss. God, he didn’t know bare lips could be so damn sexy. All the women he dated wore lipstick like they owned stock in it.

  He enjoyed the way she ran to keep up with him, lifting her full skirt, showing him just enough of her shapely legs to have his cock standing at attention. Not that he was going to do anything about it. Damn—she was his assistant, for God’s sake. Off limits. He made rules for a reason—and he did not want to lose her calm, organized presence because he needed to get off.

  Plain Frane, everyone at the office called her. Marcus had figured out why she covered herself so completely at work, after overhearing two of his employees gossiping about her last disastrous relationship. Not just a relationship—the ass left her standing at the altar, ran off with another woman. Because of that, Marcus was determined to take care with her.

  If those women could see her tonight, her face flushed, soft tendrils of gold shot brown hair brushing her bare shoulders, her delicious curves on display in that body hugging gown—

  Down, boy.

  Graham came into sight, just in time. Marcus’ thoughts were heading down a path he shouldn’t even be thinking of, and he wanted to drag her to a dark corner, lay his hands on those curves. On her.

  Marcus stepped in his brother’s path, waited for him mouth off, or throw some snarky comment. Anything, any excuse to punch him. Screw the audience.

  “I see you found a companion, Marcus. I wasn’t sure you were given enough notice to—”

  “Son of a bitch. You wanted me to show up alone, didn’t you? Point out my l
ack to everyone. Again.”

  Graham shrugged, in that way that made Marcus want to pound on him. “You don’t need me for that, baby brother. Though you did manage to pull out a sweet replacement.” His gaze moved over Leah. Marcus stepped between them and bared his teeth. “A little possessive, aren’t we?”

  “One more word, Graham, and I’ll jam my fist down your throat.” His voice was quiet, so quiet only the three of them could hear. But Graham’s eyes widened, surprise clear on his face. “Leah deserves more than your leering and innuendoes. Hell, she deserves more than either of us can give her.”

  “Leah—Leah Frane?” Before Marcus could stop her she moved into sight, meeting Graham’s eyes.

  “Good evening, Mr. Hawkins.”

  “Damn—sorry. You look beautiful, Miss Frane.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Hawkins.” That sexy, delightful blush was back. “You are looking quite striking yourself. Both of you,” she whispered, glancing up at Marcus. Then she stared at the floor, like she couldn’t believe she just spoke to the great Hawkins brothers. “If you’ll excuse me,” she managed to slip out of Marcus’ grip before he could stop her. “I need to find a restroom.”

  “Right behind the gold elephant,” Graham said, smiling down at her.

  “Thank you.”

  She walked away, her hips swaying gently under the velvet, the smooth, bare skin of her back on display. For everyone. What the hell was he thinking?

  “Who knew that was under all those layers of drab?” Graham held up both hands when Marcus turned on him. “Making an observation, little brother. You’ve already marked your territory. I’ll just watch from the sidelines while you make a fool of yourself over her.”

  “Shut up, Graham.”

  “That clinches it. No scathing comeback.” He gave Marcus a wicked smile. “All the blood has gone to the little brain.”

  Unfortunately his brother was right. That woman was danger on two legs, and Marcus needed to keep as much distance between them as possible, before he started getting ideas.

  Four

  Leah slumped in one of the upholstered chairs, staring at the marble counter. Anywhere but the long mirror that covered one wall. She knew how she’d look—flushed, desperate. Needy.

  What was happening to her? She swore to herself that the feelings she had for her untouchable boss would stay locked behind the wall around her heart.

  But his surprising generosity unbalanced her, and his reaction to her in the gown still left her—hot.

  With a sigh she pushed to her feet and braced herself for her reflection. After him dragging her all over the museum, she knew her almost neat hair had to be a disaster. First look proved her right. Curls escaped from the twist, falling around her face, tumbling down her back. At least her breasts were still inside the halter.

  She lifted her hands to her hair and started pulling the pins out.

  “Don’t touch it.” The voice had her jerking around. Cassie Deveaux stood next to the door, green eyes appraising. “Your hair is—”

  “Out of control?”

  “You have no idea, do you? No wonder he’s so—” She cut herself off. “Your hair is lush. Like your figure.” She moved to Leah, circling her like a piece of merchandise. “Did Marcus give you the gown?” Leah nodded. “It looks like one of Fantine’s creations.”

  Leah gasped. “Fantine—of Fantine Baroque?”

  “They’re old friends. Actually, Fantine was his sister’s friend first. Marcus probably gave her your measurements from memory. He has a good eye. Always did. May I?” She waved at Leah’s hair.

  “I guess. Sure.” She sat, not facing the mirror. Cassie couldn’t make it worse—and if she did, the front door was close, and an easy exit. Gentle fingers touched her hair, smoothing, tugging, doing—she didn’t care what. Either way, she decided it was better to leave once Cassie was done. “Why are you doing this?”

  “What?”

  “Helping me. Being—”

  “Nice?” Cassie moved until she faced Leah. “Marcus and I have had fun.” She flashed a smile. “We used to have too much fun at times. But we’re friends now, and a strings-free date when necessary. When he looked at me, in our wilder days, it was with lust. When he looks at you,” she moved out of sight and started tugging again. “I’ve never seen him look at a woman like that. I have to admit, I thought I’d hate the woman he finally saw, really saw as more than a playmate. But you’re so—genuine, I just can’t.” A little more tugging, while Leah absorbed her words. Or tried to—she couldn’t get over that this gorgeous woman admired her. “Okay, and done. Stand up.”

  Leah pushed to her feet, took a deep breath, and faced the mirror.

  Her mouth dropped open.

  Cassie had done something miraculous. Her curls were still all over the place, but instead of looking messy, the style was what Leah always imagined sexy bedhead hair might look on her.

  “Oh, God.” She couldn’t face Marcus like this. It screamed sex.

  “Don’t be afraid of the way you look. Whatever happens tomorrow, Leah, take advantage of tonight.” Cassie moved behind her. “Take advantage of this.”

  “Because I’ll never look this good again?”

  “You can look this good, all the time. It just takes desire, and some practice.” She arranged a couple stray curls. “I meant to take advantage because tonight will never happen again. You’ll never be in this place, with this man.”

  Leah looked at the woman in the mirror. A woman she didn’t recognize. Maybe that was good. She could be that woman, the woman daring enough to wear this gown, stand up to Marcus Hawkins, take charge of her emotions, her life. Just for one night.

  ***

  Marcus waited for her just outside the door. So, no escaping. Not yet.

  She opened her mouth to say something, and froze, startled by the way he studied her. Like he was seeing her for the first time. He ran one hand through his hair, tousling the rare neat style, leaving him even more devastating. His hair always reminded Leah of raven’s wings—so black it had blue highlights. She forced herself to stop staring at his long, graceful fingers, to stop staring at him.

  “Damn me,” he whispered. “Screw the rules.” He grabbed her hand, dragging her across the wide, crowded foyer.

  Rules? What was he talking about?

  She didn’t have time to think about his cryptic statement as he pulled her down an empty hallway, stopping at the far end of a side exhibit. Oh, God—she was alone with him, only the prehistoric dioramas as witnesses.

  “Marcus—”

  “Finally.” He pinned her to the wall, his hands braced on either side of her, and leaned in until his breath warmed her lips. “I never thought you’d say my name.”

  He shocked the breath out of her when he slipped one arm around her waist, hauled her forward and kissed her.

  She dropped her clutch and grabbed the lapels of his perfect tux, moaning when his tongue traced the curve of her lower lip before slipping inside and driving her crazy. Her tongue warred with his, her body straining to get closer. She wanted to remember this kiss forever, since she expected him to come to his senses any second now and remember who she was.

  Instead he hiked her up and trapped her between his body and the wall, rocking his impressive erection against her. The kiss turned raw, and she arched into him, every inch on fire. God—the things he could do with his mouth. She never wanted the kiss to end.

  Her hands freed his lapel and moved up, into his hair, her fingers tangling in the silky length. He growled, and his hand moved—under her gown, sliding up her leg until he gripped her ass. With a gasp she tried to pull out of the kiss, mortified.

  “No,” he whispered. “You’re perfect. God, you feel so good.” He held her in place and ground himself against her, his breathing ragged. “I need to touch you, Leah.”

  “Marcus—” Another gasp cut her off when his free hand slid between them and cupped her. Even through her lacy thong she felt the heat of his fingers.

  “You’re already wet.” He slid his finger over her and she forgot to be embarrassed. “You have no idea how that turns me on.”

  She stilled, every inch humming, when his fingers slipped inside her thong and found her hot, wet, throbbing clit. The second he touched her she shuddered, already so close to an orgasm she couldn’t breathe.