“I should probably go. I’m home,” she said huskily, realizing that the words sounded far more intimate to her ears than she’d intended.
“I’ll probably be working late tomorrow but I’d like to have dinner with you afterward if you’re available.”
“I’m available,” Niall said rapidly. She closed her eyes in mortification when she realized how that must have sounded to him. His quick bark of masculine laughter suggested that he’d liked her response, however.
“I’ll give you a call around eight and tell you how things are looking on my end. Okay?”
“Okay. Have a good night.”
“Night.”
Niall was distracted as she walked through Riverview Towers’ luxurious lobby. She didn’t realize why she was so preoccupied until she reached her front door and glanced over at the entrance to Vic’s apartment. Against her will, the powerful image rose in her mind’s eye of what she must have looked like lying spread-eagled on his hallway floor, her dress around her waist, flushed from multiple orgasms, vibrant life surging thickly in her veins.
Guilt washed through her. She knew what rankled at her spirit. She’d told Vic that she was available.
And Niall herself couldn’t decide if that was the ultimate truth or not.
A pile of things had accumulated on her desk in her absence, each one seemingly more important than the last. Niall coped with her anxiety and excitement about seeing Vic that night by throwing herself into work. By the time she returned to her office from a late afternoon meeting, she wasn’t feeling any less jumpy about her date, but she did feel good about how much she’d accomplished that day.
“Any calls?” Niall asked Kendra Phillips, her administrative assistant and good friend. When she heard the eager tone of her own voice, Niall realized that she was half hoping that Vic might have called, which was ridiculous. He’d specifically told her that he wouldn’t call until this evening. God, she was like a teenager with her first crush. The only difference being how wet her panties got every time she thought about Vic touching her. That aspect of her infatuation was definitely very adult.
She must not have been hiding her eagerness very well, because Kendra gave her a slightly suspicious look.
“Who were you expecting to call? Not Evan Forrester, I hope.”
Niall blanched. She hadn’t spoken to Evan since the night that he’d practically attacked her in the hallway . . . since the night Vic had branded her with his touch.
“God, no.”
“Good, because I saw him at Toulouse during lunch,” Kendra said, referring to the upscale restaurant housed within the museum. “He really likes his martini lunches, doesn’t he? He cornered me and asked if you’d returned yet. I told him that I thought you’d be spending the weekend with your parents in Kenilworth.”
“Nice one, thanks,” Niall said.
“Mac said that Forrester was trouble from the first when it came to you, although he has to tiptoe around the issue, seeing as how Forrester is on the board,” Kendra said with a grin, referring to Alistair McKenzie, the director of the museum.
Niall rolled her eyes. “If only Evan could be that subtle in return. The guy’s like a Mack truck.” Kendra looked concerned about that statement, so Niall quickly changed the subject.
“Any other calls?”
“Here are your messages.”
Niall glanced through the pieces of paper. Rose Gonzalez’s name caught her eye. What had the State of Illinois Public Guardian been calling her for? Niall wondered. Rose had patiently explained to her that she was wholly in charge now, not Niall. She knew that Rose usually left the office by five P.M. She’d have to call her first thing in the morning.
“Your mom was one of the callers,” Kendra broke through Niall’s preoccupation. Her voice level dropped until it was just above a whisper. “She wanted to know if you wanted to attend church at St. Patrick’s before the three of you go out to Evergreen Park this Sunday. You’re supposed to call her on her cell.”
Niall grimaced. How like her mother to suggest a good dose of Catholic-style guilt just when Niall was considering having a sexual fling with Vic. Alexis Chandler was damn scary sometimes, the way she could foresee events.
And Niall did not plan to go to Evergreen Park this weekend. That was one of her mother’s well meaning, but thoroughly irritating, machinations. Niall had made it clear that the ritualistic, soul-wrenching Sunday visitations at Evergreen Park were a thing of the past.
God, it made her feel slightly nauseated even to consider challenging her mother on the issue when she knew she was only doing what she thought was right. The lament of every child since Cain and Abel, no doubt, she thought sourly.
“Thanks.” Niall started to walk toward her office, but she paused, her feet moving restlessly. “You go to plays a lot, don’t you, Kendra?”
“Sure, when I can get Mark to let go of his death grip on the remote control for a few hours,” she teased, referring to her husband.
“Ever seen a Vic Savian play?”
“Yep. Misfit Cowboys and Aidan’s Fall. Are you thinking about seeing his new one that’s opening at the Hesse Theater? I’ve already got tickets.”
Niall plucked at her wool skirt, averting her face. “I was thinking about it. Is he any good?”
“Better than good,” Kendra said resolutely. “The guy’s a genius. Don’t get me wrong, his stuff isn’t a frolic in the park. His plays are gritty and intense, volatile, thought-provoking, but very . . . erotic, too.” Kendra shook her head and laughed sheepishly. “Tons of restrained lust is a Savian key ingredient. It’s what makes his plays so unpredictable and exciting. Hey, Niall?”