21. Carter

Chapter 21

Carter

“ C ome again?”

My father turns his head toward me, a smile brightening his face as he lets out a small laugh.?

“Which part didn’t you understand, Son?” My gaze bounces from my father to Lara as I attempt to assess her reaction. Her face, which usually hides nothing, isn’t giving anything away right now. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, but I don’t have time to ponder because Dad is looking at me expectantly.

“Sorry, not what I meant.” My hand reaches to the back of my neck, and I rub it nervously. “Is it imperative that Lara attends? She’s only been here a week and hasn’t started taking notes yet.”

The air in the room changes imperceptibly, and my gaze flicks from my father to Lara. The set of her shoulders has lowered slightly, and I can’t help but think it’s because of what I’ve said. I’ve offended her without meaning to. I’m fucking this whole conversation up, and I’m not even trying.

“Lara, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.” Her eyes meet mine, eyebrows furrowing minutely before she laughs lightly, the sound ringing out like the sweetest chime.?

“I’m not offended.” Lara’s left shoulder raises and drops, her head tilting ever so slightly the opposite way. “You’re right; I haven’t taken any notes yet, but I’m willing to learn over the next two weeks.”?

Reclining in my chair to feign a nonchalance I certainly don’t feel, I turn my head in Dad’s direction and send out a silent plea—please decide it’s a bad idea, please .

My father’s smile widens as he stands. “Excellent, it’s settled then.”?

Well, shit. So much for that silent plea.

“Victor can drive the both of you. Give him a call to let him know what time, Son.” He claps his hands once, delight radiating off him. “Any who, I best be off. Your mother is expecting me for brunch.”

Dad turns to face Lara from the doorway, raising a hand in farewell. “Lovely to see you, Lara, and good luck.”

With a wink, he’s gone.

The second the door closes behind him, Lara rises. She paces several steps away from the desk before proceeding to turn around and pace back. The sound of her heels on the tiles resembles the click-clack of Winnie’s plastic princess shoes. She gives me a stern look as she stands across from me, trying her hardest to look authoritative with her hands planted firmly on her hips.

The smirk I’m trying to hold back slips free, and her stern look morphs into a scowl. It’s gone as quickly as it came though, replaced by a reluctant grin.

“You’re really not great at being serious, are you?”

Dramatic as ever, Lara slaps her hands down on the top of my desk, eyes pinning me in place.?

“This isn’t funny, Carter,” she responds, still grinning like an idiot but valiantly trying to hide it. Her efforts really should be rewarded, and I can think of a few ways I’d like to reward her. I wonder if she has a praise kink? That would work wonders.

Not the fucking time, place, or woman. Pull. Yourself. Together.

“The smile on your face could’ve fooled me, gorgeous.” I lean further back in my chair, surveying her.

Lara lets out an exaggerated huff, crossing her arms across her chest. It takes every ounce of self-control not to stop my attention from redirecting itself to that chest, but fucking hell, it looks divine.?

For all the times I saw Lara at Chapter Nine, she’d never been wearing anything low cut or fitting. In her defence, the blouse she’s currently wearing beneath her jacket isn’t either of those things to any large degree, but it’s certainly more than I’ve seen. And apparently, more than I can handle.

She’s somehow managed to make corporate attire look intimidatingly sexy.?

“Alright,” Lara says, drawing my attention to her pretty face, “this is how it’s going to go.”

The whole time Lara is running through how she sees this meeting going, all I can think about is how unconcerned she is. She doesn’t seem the least bit phased about spending a four-hour round trip stuck in a car with me, and I strongly dislike how that makes me feel.

Was she not as affected by the bookstore events as I was? It seems hard to believe at first thought, because if the roles were reversed, I don’t think I’d be coping. Shit, I’m struggling to cope as it is.

What a humbling little realisation this is.

Do I test the theory anyway? Yes , yes I do. I can’t help myself.

Lara stands before me, looking positively delectable. My legs take the lead as I stand and walk around my desk, invading the space between it and Lara. Leaning against the front, I keep my gaze trained on her face. A feeling of satisfaction sparks inside me, watching as her eyes flare momentarily when they track my hands gripping the edge.

Lara tightens her crossed arms, drawing my attention briefly to her chest. When it returns to her face, I stiffen as I watch her lick her lips.?

Fuck . She has no idea what she’s doing to me.?

If she wasn’t in front of me, I’d be tempted to readjust myself. Instead, I take one small step closer, hellbent on having any sort of effect on her. Lara doesn’t react. Instead, she keeps staring.?

Feeling braver than I have any right to, and knowing this is crossing so many lines, I take another step. When the tips of my shoes make contact with her heels, I finally get the slightest reaction from Lara. She lets out a tiny gasp.?

From a distance, it’s obvious she’s gorgeous. But up close, she’s exquisite.?

The sunlight through the windows allows me to notice tiny freckles peppering her cheeks, evidence of her homeland. Her lips are set in a perfect pout, and their natural pink colour embeds itself into my brain.

“Can I help you, Mr Lawrence?”

Oh, fuck me . Fuck me all the way to Scotland.?

There’s a twinkle in her eyes as she says this, but it’s gone in a heartbeat, replaced again by indifference. The way she’s able to school her expression so quickly makes me think it’s something she’s had a lot of practice with. The idea of her having to hide her emotions for any reason doesn’t sit right with me.

The way she says my name makes it feel like it belongs on her tongue, like no one else could ever make it sound as sweet.

This isn’t the first time I’ve been called Mr Lawrence, but it’s certainly the only time I’ve immediately wanted to hear it again, and again, and again . My hands flex at my sides, itching to touch her. Restraint is a heavy burden right now, but an essential one nonetheless.

Through no fault of her own, Lara is the most painful temptress I’ve ever encountered. She’s not to blame for the way my body reacts to her, but god I wish she knew the hold she has over me.

My jaw ticks. The way her eyes flicker toward the movement is a pretty clear indication that she noticed.

“Mr Lawrence?” They’re the only two words I can form; my mind unable to stop replaying the way she licked her lips, except to think about the unspeakable things I’d do to feel that tongue on my skin.

“That is your name, isn’t it?” There’s a teasing note to her tone despite the continual expression of indifference. “I must admit, it suits you better than Mr Darcy.”

“I can’t decide which name I prefer coming from your lips; Mr Lawrence, or Carter. I suppose it doesn’t matter as long as it's my name.”

Where the fuck did that come from? Have I completely lost my mind? I don’t think a woman has ever caused me to cross so many boundaries, and yet here I am, ploughing through them like I have nothing to lose.

Her physical response is all that’s needed to tell me this isn’t one-sided. There’s the smallest indication I’m having the same effect on her as she is on me—she draws in a sharp breath, pupils dilating.?

“I’ve always prided myself on my self-control, but you push me closer to the edge than anyone ever has.” She exhales, her breath like a whisper against my skin. It makes me want to crush my mouth to hers, consequences be damned. “The worst part,” I breathe, struggling to hold on to my sanity, “is the edge has never looked better.”

Lara’s deep blue’s gaze into my own, searching. For what, I can’t be sure.?

“The edge is a dangerous place to be, Carter. I don’t imagine you’re there alone, though, if the papers are anything to go by.”

Christ, this woman knows how to strike with precision. I’m taken aback for a moment, wincing at the knowledge that she’s aware of the tabloids. But she’s right, of course. Each week, the papers and magazines continue to splash what they believe to be “scandalous” pictures of me with beautiful women.

What she doesn’t realise though, is that these pictures were all taken in batches, weeks, and months ago. Not a single one has been taken since that first encounter with Lara. She can never know though. Honestly, I can’t imagine how smug she’d be if she had that information. Not to mention how completely and totally fucked I’d be.

Lara inclines her head ever so slightly. My breath catches; is she about to?—

My train of thought derails faster than a bat out of hell as Lara turns and walks away.

I’m left fucking rattled, positively rocked by the way she continues to break down my control one piece at a time. The sounds of her retreating heels make for a suitable soundtrack as I try to collect the pieces.

“Son.”

Dad hardly ever greets me in any other way; no ‘hello’, no ‘good morning’, just ‘Son’. Come to think of it, it’s not all that often he actually uses my name when speaking to me.

The sound of my father’s muffled voice through the phone fills the otherwise quiet backseat, the rolled-up partition blocking out the sound of Victor’s classical music crescendoing.?

Victor has been working for our family for decades now. He was Dad’s driver for most of those years and became mine when I took over as CEO. He’s more of an unofficial uncle to me than an employee, and we typically have great conversations about bikes while we drive.

“Dad, we need to discuss yesterday’s conversation, please. Are you certain it’s a good idea?”

“Well of course I’m certain,” he responds confidently, as though he can’t imagine how I could be questioning it.

“It’s good for Lara’s personal development within her role and it’s good for your professional relationship with her. It also wouldn't hurt for Mason to meet your new EA in person.”

He pauses, clearly trying to think of additional convincing reasoning.

“If I’m completely honest, I think spending time with a woman like Lara could really benefit you, Son.”

I genuinely sputter at this. What?

“Wh-what on earth do you mean by that?”

There’s silence on the other end of the line. Following this, Dad stutters out the beginning of a few incoherent words before finding his feet.

“What I mean is she’s a lovely young woman, and it wouldn’t kill you to spend more time with someone like that.”

Is he quite serious? That little meddler. I really shouldn’t be surprised, though; only a few months ago he was attempting to set me up with Kate from the cafe. The man means well, but Lara of all people? Naturally he doesn’t know about our history, and she really is quite wonderful, but the last thing I need is my father involving himself in our relationship—or lack thereof.

“Is this some sort of ploy then? Your next attempt to find me a wife?”

“I refuse to confirm or deny. However, I will say your mother and I would desperately love another grandchild to spoil. Or a couple. We aren’t fussy.” I can hear the smile in his voice.?

Typical; the grandchild angle. My parents love Winnie like nothing else. I’m certain they love her more than any of their own children.

All our parents have ever wanted for us is happiness, which is more than many can say for their parents. However, for them, happiness comes from family. They assume I’m enjoying doing my own thing while I’m still young(ish), but one day I’ll settle down with a beautiful and loving wife, have a few children, and enjoy that next chapter. Though, what they don’t realise is that their ‘dream life’ isn’t necessarily for everyone.

I’ve not mentioned this to my parents, but I’m not certain I want children. I think the world of Winnie and would stop at nothing to protect her, but I’m not sure if fatherhood is for me. I could be perfectly happy and fulfilled spending my days with just the love of my life.

Perhaps I’ll change my mind one day, but for now, it’s not on the cards.

Before I can determine a suitable response, Dad continues.

“I can practically hear you rolling your eyes. I don’t mean for you to go out and get married tomorrow; I just think it wouldn’t hurt for you to be around her in a slightly different environment.”

I can’t help the sigh set free, accompanied by a small smile.?

“Alright, Dad, you win.”

“I knew you’d come around.” God, he’s one cocky son of a bitch. Can’t imagine where I got it from. “Don’t forget to tell Victor when you’ll need him.”

Oh, Dad will have a field day with this.

“I’m going to drive us, figured it’s easier. I’ll give Victor the day off; he’s been wanting to go for a day ride for a while, so he can make the most of a long weekend.”

Dad doesn’t say another word. He just laughs before hanging up.