“I’m sorry about last night.” She sighed, dropping the half-eaten croissant to her plate. Why had he come home with her anyway? She knew from personal experience he had better things to do on a Friday night than play Florence Nightingale. “I didn’t mean to completely wreck your evening.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.” He reached out and touched her hand, sending a shiver racing down her spine. “I stayed because I wanted to. It’s what friends do for each other.”
“Yes, I seem to recall hearing that last night,” she said, hastily removing her hand from his and tucking it safely between her knees. Now was not the time to let him get all touchy-feely, not when she still had warm fuzzies from him taking care of her the night before. “But, as you can see, I’m fine. Nothing a little sleep and a good meal can’t fix. Speaking of which, thank you for breakfast.”
“You’re welcome.” He eyed her seriously and Olivia fought the urge to wipe her mouth. Crap. Did she have jelly on her face? Hard to tell, but definitely possible. “I’m just glad to see you’re feeling better.”
“Good as new.” She poked at her fruit salad. “In fact, once I get cleaned up, I’m going to head over to the office.”
Cole bristled. She could actually see his body tense up at her words. “Why don’t you relax and take the day off? There’s no need to push yourself so hard.”
“I’m fine. Besides, we only have two weeks left to pull something together for Vixen. Relaxation is a luxury we can’t afford.”
“You knew that migraine was coming on last night, didn’t you?” he asked, leveling her with his eyes.
“What do you mean?” she countered, buying herself some time. What did it matter if she knew? It couldn’t be stopped. And she really didn’t want him to think the headaches were a regular occurrence. The last thing she needed was for him to decide she couldn’t handle the pressure. She could handle the pressure as well as anyone.
“You kept rubbing your fingers together,” he mused, “like you knew it was coming.”
Damn him for being so freaking observant. She had two choices: lie and look like a weird, finger-rubbing freak, or take her chances with the truth. As much as she hated showing weakness, the alternative didn’t hold much appeal either.
“Sometimes I have an aura before a particularly bad migraine.”
His face was a blank slate. “An aura?”
“It means I have early warning signs,” she explained with a smile. Finally, something the man didn’t know. “It’s like pins and needles in my fingers, sort of like when your foot falls asleep.”
“You are quite possibly the most stubborn human being on the face of the earth,” he blurted, shaking his head in disbelief. “Why didn’t you say something? Your health is more important than any campaign.”
“It’s no big deal,” she argued, crossing her arms and digging in her heels. “I figured we were almost done and they don’t usually come on that fast.”
“And you didn’t want me to think you’re weak and couldn’t handle the pressure.”
Damn, he was perceptive. “That, too,” she admitted, avoiding his eyes.
“Olivia, no one in their right might would ever accuse you of being weak. We are going to nail that account. Together,” he promised, an impish smile pulling at his lips as he studied her sweatshirt. “Right after you tell me what, exactly, an Apple Blossom Princess is.”
Chapter Twelve
Olivia yawned and reached for her coffee. It was pushing midnight and they were the only ones left in the office. It had been like this for the last three days. Long hours, lots of frustration, and not nearly enough caffeine to balance it out. Cole knew she was waiting for him to call it quits. The woman was as stubborn as they came, which might have been sexy any other day. With the pressure mounting, they’d practically taken up residence in the conference room, abandoning their offices for the duration of the project. It was easier that way.
Easier except for the part where he was boxed up in a tiny, claustrophobic room, drowning in her scent and completely unable to concentrate on anything except all of the ways he wanted her. It was counterproductive, to say the least.
He watched from beneath his lashes as Olivia stretched, arching her back. Such a simple gesture, but it unhinged him. The desire to caress her, run his hands over her body, rose unbidden. He’d been on his best behavior for the last couple of days, but it was getting old. He was tired of pretending he didn’t want Olivia on her back screaming his name. Even more so, he was tired of her denying their connection.
“You’re kidding, right?” She threw his most recent proposal across the table. It skidded over the edge and landed in his lap.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Aside from the fact that it’s tired?” Olivia scrunched her nose in disgust. “It’s not even the right target audience.”
“I beg to diff—”
“God, you are such a man.” She rolled her eyes. “Always thinking with the little head. There’s nothing new about supermodels strutting around in thong underwear, although I’m sure it’s nice for you to look at.”