Systematic Seduction (4 page)

She
didn’t say anything, merely stared into his eyes. Their server came to ask if
they needed anything else, and Oliver asked her to give them a few minutes to
think about it. After she left, he gave Blair a sympathetic look.

“You
don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I will understand. Just know this.
I am here to listen anytime. Whether you want to tell me a little, or tell me
the whole thing, I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk.”

She
wasn’t sure she understood. “No more questions, then?”

“Not
about your panic attacks.” He gave her hands another squeeze and then released
them. “I need to finish this burger. It’s too good to leave uneaten. How about
dessert? What do you recommend?”

Blair
almost felt cheated because it had taken her a lot of courage and soul
searching to reach the decision she’d tell him a little, but at the same time,
she was overwhelmed at his compassion and understanding.

“I’ve
had the apple crisp, and it’s fabulous warmed with vanilla ice cream on top.
But I’m not sure I can eat an entire one myself. I’m pretty stuffed.”

“That
sounds heavenly. Let’s share it.” He signaled for their server and ordered one
apple crisp to share, then asked Blair if she’d like to take a walk when they
were finished. “The river is pretty at night, with the lights along it.”

“I’d
love that.” This evening had turned out to be more delightful than she’d ever imagined,
and it wasn’t over yet. Blair had the sensation of a fresh breeze blowing, the
way it used to feel and smell after a heavy rain. Maybe her luck was finally
changing?

Chapter
Four

Oliver
held her hand as they walked along the fake river. They’d even added the smell
of water, but he remembered what a river had really smelled like, and they
couldn’t duplicate the soft breeze that had blown off one as you walked this
close to it. Still, this was very pleasant, made so only because he was with
Blair.

He’d
made the decision not to push her into telling him what had triggered the panic
attack after relaying the story of the wind and rain storm. He could have died
in that warehouse. A few more days without adequate drinking water and food and
he likely would have died anyway, because he doubted anyone would have found
him in time to get him to a hospital.

Telling
it to someone made him all the more cognizant of how it felt to hold a secret
like that inside. Whatever had sparked her reaction this morning, once again he
realized she clearly wasn’t ready to tell him. He didn’t doubt the story about
her mother, but he also sensed it wasn’t complete by any stretch of the
imagination.

He
glanced down at her, smiling at the way the lights made her hair shine. Why
didn’t she date? Would she be upset if he asked?
Only one way to find out.
He’d been wondering for years now. She
didn’t have many close friends at work and no one knew much about her.

“How
is it you’re not seeing anyone?”

She
kept her gaze on the walkway in the distance. “I was, but I’m not now.”

If
she’d recently broken up with someone, that was news to him. “Someone at work?”
If one of his team members had hurt her, he’d have to do something about it.

“No.
He doesn’t work for you.”

“Blair,
forgive me for prying, but it’s very hard for me to believe there is only one
ex-boyfriend in your life.”

She
stopped walking and took a seat on one of the many benches lining the walkway.
He sat next to her, watching the emotions cross her face in profile. His heart
went out to this woman. She clearly was conflicted about confiding in him, but
he knew from personal experience that it did help to get things out. She was so
damn pretty and smart, yet there was a naiveté to her that he could see some
asshole taking advantage of.

“He
wasn’t a boyfriend. I mean, I’ve had them before, but the last actual relationship
I had wasn’t with a boyfriend. He was my husband. His name was Donny
Gallagher.”

Whoa…

“I
didn’t realize you’d been married.”

“It
didn’t last long. Three months.”

Holy shit.
Did anyone at work know about
this? “I’m so sorry.”

She
finally faced him, and he was shocked to see the venom in her eyes. “Don’t be.
I’m not sorry. The bastard tried to force me to have sex with him and two of
his equally drunk friends. Let me clarify that. He didn’t try it only because
he was drunk. He talked about it all the time once I had the ring on my finger,
despite my telling him I wasn’t the least bit interested in being gang-banged
by him and his drinking buddies.”

Oliver
swallowed hard, totally at a loss for words. He tried to picture this
beautiful, capable, intelligent woman married to someone like that, but
couldn’t. There was a huge piece of this picture missing.

“They
were all more drunk than usual that night, so I was able to fight them off
easily, but I realized things were escalating and knew the next time I might
not be so lucky. I left our apartment that same night, taking only what I could
carry. I never came back for the rest, and he never contested the divorce.”

“Do
you still talk to him?”
Please say no
.

“No.
He used to email me every time a woman dumped him, but I never answered. I’d
block him and he’d email from another address, so I’d block him again. The last
time I heard from him was to tell me he’s married again to some woman he met in
a bar.”

Why
did the asshole feel the need to keep in touch with her? “How long ago was
that?”

“I
don’t remember. A few months probably. I don’t care.”

“I
don’t know what to say.”

“It’s
all right. You asked, I answered.”

She
crossed her arms and legs, staring straight ahead at the fake river. Oliver
didn’t want the evening to end this way. There was much more to this story. He
sensed it. More importantly, he wanted to get to know the person inside. The
person he saw and admired at work.

“Where
did you meet him?”

“Not
in a bar.”

She
had a witty sense of humor, and that she could use it now made him want her
even more.

“We
met in one of my classes. Not the engineering classes. This was one of the
pre-requisites. English, to be exact. He was at the university earning a
general studies degree which he never finished.”

No surprise there.

“He
asked me out for a year before I finally said yes. It was kind of creepy,
actually. Followed me around the campus even when we didn’t have classes
together. He was always showing up, now that I think about it. He must have
known my schedule.”

He
decided not to remark that he’d asked her out twice that long before she
finally said yes. The reason why she’d avoided dating him had suddenly become a
bit clearer, although he realized the fact that she’d also avoided going out
with her ex-husband meant this story went back further than that.

“I
couldn’t even tell you why I married him. I think it was because I wanted to
believe him. I desperately wanted to believe
someone
in this world wasn’t…”

Her
words trailed off and she cut her gaze to him. The same trapped animal look
he’d glimpsed this morning was back.

“After
I married him, I found out about his criminal record.”

The
hair on the back of Oliver’s neck prickled.

“Petty
stuff. Shoplifting, theft, and one arrest for rape but it was never prosecuted.
She recanted, and he swore to me she was a girlfriend who had accused him
because of a fight they’d had.”

“Oh,
Blair.” He wanted to find this Donny Gallagher and beat the shit out of him.
“Did he know about your past?”

“No!”
She hugged herself tighter. “I never told him any of that.”

Oliver
acted on pure instinct, moving closer to her so he could place an arm around
her shoulder. “It’s all right. You’re safe here.”

She
sucked in a huge, long breath. “I know,” she whispered.

He
waited, knowing to push her to explain or finish the thought was the wrong
thing to do, but hating the feeling of powerlessness. He wanted to make it all
better for her. His instincts had been spot on. Someone had hurt this girl
before she met the ex. Had hurt her badly.

She
moved away from him and stood. “I think it’s time I go home.”

Oliver
searched his mind for anything to say to keep her here, but she was already
moving away. He caught up to her and offered his arm. She wrapped her hand
around it, but her touch wasn’t the same as it had been earlier when she’d held
his hand while they walked. She was stiff now, as if she’d only taken his arm
to be polite.

“I’m
sorry to have upset you.”

“You
didn’t. Honestly.”

“I
meant what I said in the restaurant. When you’re ready to talk, I’m here.”

She
stopped walking, removed her hand from his arm, and faced him. The look of pain
and desperation on her face nearly tore him apart. What the hell was going on?
Why couldn’t he figure out how to help her?

“Oliver,
I enjoy working for you so much. The job is fabulous. And I like you, too. I
like you a lot. You’re so different from the other men I’ve dated. I don’t want
to hurt you.”

He
forced a smile to his face. This was a brush-off if ever he’d heard one, and it
had been a very long time since a woman had done that to him. “You won’t hurt
me.”

“You
know what I mean. I’m pretty fucked up. You’ve likely figured that out by now.
I never should have had dinner with you. I don’t want to lead you on.”

He
took a deep breath and tried to focus his thoughts. “First of all, I will never
regret this evening. I’ve had a very nice time. Secondly, you haven’t led me
on. Not even close. And as for you being fucked up, we all are. I mean let’s
face it, Blair. Anyone living underground is pretty fucked up. We all went through
hell and back before we got here.”

“Some
of us went through things we can’t talk about.”

And
there it was. Confirmation he was right. There was more to her past than a
short-lived marriage to a jerk.

“Yes,
that is true,” he said, forcing his voice to remain neutral.

“You
don’t want to be involved with me. You date women who look good in pictures
online, and who don’t mind being photographed with you everywhere you go.”

“Most
of the women I date only go out with me because of that reason. Because they know
we’ll have our picture taken, and they’ll get their faces and names on the
tabloid websites, linked with mine. They go out with me because I’m stinking
rich and they think I’ll take care of them for life. They go out with me
because they want expensive things. I can count the number who have cared about
me
—the person inside—on one hand.”

Oliver
stopped to gauge her reaction. She looked sympathetic, so he kept going.

“That’s
why I’ve wanted to go out with you for two years. You’re not like that. You’re genuine
and unaffected. Plus you’re one of the most intelligent women I’ve ever met and
I admire that. It attracts me to you, as much as your looks do. More, in fact,
because I know I can carry on a conversation with you that has nothing to do
with designer clothes or rare gems. I know you won’t be glancing around to find
the paparazzi waiting to snap a picture.”

This
time, she smiled, and his heart soared. “Not many of them hanging around Dirty
Harry’s, I imagine.”

“Nor
do I, which is why I enjoyed myself so much tonight.”

“Why
would you want to date a woman who can’t even talk about her past?”

“Why
should that matter to me? It’s
your
past. I have no right to demand to know about anything in it. That’s your
decision, not mine. If and when you’re ready to talk about it, whether we’re
dating or not, I’m here to listen.”

“You
make it very hard to say no.”

Once
again, he decided not to point out the obvious. Instead he went for humorous.
“I’ve been told that before.” He winked at her, hoping like hell that quip didn’t
backfire.

When
she laughed softly, he placed a hand on each shoulder. “Blair, I really like
you a lot. Let’s go out again and see what happens. No expectations. This has
been one of the most enjoyable dates I’ve had in a very long time. I mean that.”

She
looked at him with skepticism in those dark eyes, but he also saw hope. “It’s
the most fun I’ve ever had on any date. Not kidding.”

“Then
let’s try it again. You know. Just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke.”

“For
research purposes.”

“Exactly.
We are engineers, after all. We never leave anything to chance.”

She
gazed at him for a long time, and then finally he watched the acquiescence in
her eyes, but resisted the urge to pump his fist in the air.

“All
right. Let’s go out again. Next Friday.”

He
didn’t want to wait a week, but he wasn’t going to turn down the offer. “Thank
you. Where would you like to go this time?”

“Promise
you won’t laugh?”

“Of
course not.”

“Have
you been to the Stratford Theater?”

“Never.”
He knew of it, though. They were self-funded and put on strictly amateur plays.
“But I’d love to go. What’s playing next weekend?”

“‘The
Flick’. Do you know it?”

He
shook his head.

“A
woman named Annie Baker wrote it in the early twenty-first century. It’s a long
play, about three hours, but with clever dialogue and interesting characters.
It’s a comedy but also has tender and poignant moments. I think you’d enjoy it.
It received several awards in its day.”

“It
sounds perfect. I’d love to go.”

“Great.
Thanks.” She took his hand again as he walked her home, and this time her touch
was warm. He didn’t ask to come upstairs although he wanted to in the worst
way.

Before
she opened the door to the building, she kissed him quickly on the lips,
chastely, but her gaze lingered on his face afterward, and he glimpsed what he
swore was smoldering lust in those dark eyes. “Good night, Oliver. Thank you
again.”

He
cupped her face and initiated the kiss this time, stopping short of teasing her
lips with his tongue because he knew if she let it inside, he was going upstairs
with her. When he released the kiss, the lust in her eyes was unmistakable. He
forced the words out of his mouth.