Moonlight Kisses Read online

  Sage rolled her eyes so hard they nearly bounced off the ceiling. “I—I did no such thing.” Fury made her stammer the words.

  Amelia shook her head. “I’d assumed when I walked in on the two of you a few weeks ago going at it like the characters in my favorite romance novel, Corporate Temptation, that you and Mr. Sinclair had worked out your differences,” she said. “What did you do to mess it up?”

  “Me?” Sage ground out the question.

  “Let’s be real here—you can be abrupt.” Her assistant narrowed her eyes. “And something happened to make him go from bringing you flowers and breakfast to purposely upstaging our event.”

  “Just whose side are you on?” Sage fumed.

  Amelia sighed. “All I’m trying to do is get you to calm down before you go storming over to Mr. Sinclair and make things worse.”

  Calm down? Sage bit her lip to keep from unleashing on her a tirade of words meant only for the ears of Espresso Cosmetics’ CEO.

  You can’t think when you’re angry.

  Cole’s words came back, and Sage inhaled a deep breath. As she exhaled an idea for extracting a little payback of her own began to form. Sage turned to her assistant. “Repeat what you just said.”

  “I was trying to get you to calm down.”

  “No, before that,” Sage said.

  “Oh, I was reminding you that I’d said the billboard, using a man in drag as a backhanded insult at Espresso, was a bad idea from the very beginning. But noooo.”

  “Amelia, you’re a genius.” Sage threw her arms around the young woman in an uncharacteristic hug.

  “Uh-oh.” Her assistant stiffened. “You’re making me nervous here.”

  Releasing her, Sage grinned in response.

  Amelia’s eyes widened before her lips firmed into a disapproving frown. “You’re sprouting horns out of your head again, and that never bodes well.”

  “Never mind my head. I need to talk to Joe Archer.” Sage cast a look in Cole’s direction. He stared back at her, a half smile on his smug, handsome face. She noted again that he appeared to be waiting for her to pounce.

  Turning back to her assistant, Sage suppressed a grin of her own. “Let’s get out of here.”

  As they walked out the door, she heard Amelia sigh and grumble something about all hell breaking loose.

  Chapter 10

  Disappointment mingled with disbelief, as Cole watched Sage leave the ballroom. The polar opposite of the elation he’d experienced the moment he’d realized she’d arrived in all of her red-minidress and stiletto-booted glory.

  He’d told himself all morning it didn’t matter, yet he had found himself taking furtive glances at the door. Watching. Waiting.

  Damn.

  Cole continued to stare at the door. He’d seen the outraged expression on Sage’s heart-shaped face and felt the heat of her temper from across the room.

  “So she didn’t take the bait, eh?” Loretta sided up to him.

  Unfortunately, no, he thought, shaking off unwarranted dismay. He’d bargained on Sage’s reaction. Expected her to march straight to him and treat him to a closer look of those spectacular legs showcased by what had become his absolute favorite dress.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Cole said aloud. “This isn’t about Sage Matthews.”

  “Isn’t it?” His secretary’s dark eyes looked right through him.

  Cole averted his gaze and shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “This is about showing the owner of Stiletto Cosmetics the power Espresso still wields, despite our current image problems,” he said. “We can take her company to heights she can’t reach on her own.”

  “If you say so.” Loretta glanced down at her tablet computer.

  “I do,” Cole reiterated. “And contrary to popular belief, I’m your boss.”

  “Well, if you want my advice...”

  “I don’t.” Cole cut off the older woman, knowing it wouldn’t stop her from having her say.

  “All I’m saying is I’d grow eyes in the back of my head if I were you. If the look on her face when she left here is any indication, that young lady isn’t done with you.”

  His mind rewound to kissing Sage in her office, and the warmth of her taut body penetrating his clothes as she melted into to him. He recalled the brief glimpse of vulnerability he’d detected in the depths of her soft brown eyes, when she momentarily dropped her guard and her need to be in control.

  Cole hoped Loretta was right, because he certainly wasn’t done with Sage, not yet.

  He switched focus to the here and now. Sage was gone. He’d seen the last of her for today.

  Cole tapped the top of Loretta’s tablet. “So what have you done to earn your salary today besides give me unsolicited advice?”

  His secretary grunted and inclined her head toward the makeup artists, who were still busy creating new looks for the beauty gurus they’d lured from Stiletto. “Spent a good chunk of it catering to the demands of these prima donnas you imported from New York and LA.”

  “Come on, they can’t be that bad.”

  Loretta frowned. “This one can’t work without a green smoothie made with coconut milk. That one needs an aromatherapy candle to clear the air of bad vibes,” she said. “I swear they almost had me reaching for a cigarette.”

  “Delegate their requests to someone else.” Cole didn’t want the older woman to relapse and slip back into smoking. “Those cigarettes have left your voice gravelly enough. Every time you open your mouth, I look around for Darth Vader.”

  “Humph. No need for that now. I got fed up when the last one told me to find him a bendy straw to sip his coffee through,” Loretta said. “I told him to do the job we contracted him to do, or else.”

  He wrinkled his face in confusion. “Bendy straw?”

  “So the coffee won’t stain his teeth,” Loretta explained.

  Cole lingered in the ballroom for another half hour. The room remained abuzz with excited bloggers, every makeup artist was busy and the lines for free makeovers had grown. By the looks of it, he’d succeeded in turning Stiletto’s Valentine’s Day event into an Espresso Cosmetics party.

  There was nothing here his employees couldn’t handle. Besides, without the underlying anticipation of seeing Sage again today, there was no reason for him to stick around.

  Cole considered swinging by Burger Tower for an early lunch and pulled out his phone to place a to-go order. The red battery light flashed up at him, and he shoved it in back into his pocket. He’d call from his car, once he connected it to the charger.

  A shriek of laughter reverberated throughout the room.

  Cole, along with everyone else, turned toward it, and then his mouth gaped open.

  The guy in drag, from the newspaper article and Stiletto’s billboard, paraded through the ballroom in full old-crone regalia. He wore a huge sandwich board over an outdated floral print dress that read Ditch Granny’s Makeup!

  Sage.

  She wouldn’t. Anger seeped into Cole’s bloodstream as the man began to work the room as though he was the guest of honor. Oh, but she definitely had.

  “Look, it’s the Espresso Granny!” A blogger yelled out over the music.

  More outbursts of laughter joined the chorus.

  The Espresso Granny?

  “Oh, hell no.” Cole’s hands clenched into fists at his sides.

  Crossing the room in three long strides, he effortlessly lifted “granny” by the collar until her white orthopedic shoes dangled above the floor.

  “H-hey! What’s going on?” The goateed man cowered inside the oversize dress.

  “Get. Out. Now.” Cole growled.

  “Stop picking on Granny.” A blogger called out.

  “Yeah, give the old girl a break. It’s Valentine
’s Day,” a second voice shouted, causing yet another round of raucous laughter to erupt throughout the ballroom.

  Cole released the interloper’s collar and watched him stagger to his feet.

  The man held up his hands in surrender, a straw purse dangling from the crook of his hairy arm. “Look, I don’t want any trouble.” His lips, coated in chalky pink lipstick, trembled as spoke. “I’m just doing my job.”

  “What job?”

  “The one I hired him to do.” A familiar voice said from behind them.

  Cole whirled around and came face-to-face with the woman he’d spent the better part of the morning pining for like a complete idiot.

  “Cole Sinclair, meet Freddy Finch.” A humorless chuckle fell from Sage’s lips. “Better known to you as Espresso Granny.”

  Struggling to keep a lid on the fury in danger of consuming his entire body, Cole spoke slowly. “Do you realize the damage you’ve just done?”

  “Kind of like you sabotaging my event with this little shindig?” Sage matched his hard glare.

  “It’s hardly the same thing,” Cole said. “In five minutes, you’ve managed to cement in people’s minds the very image I’ve been battling. Months of hard work down the drain.”

  “Miss me with the sob story.” She swiped at an imaginary tear. “You were pretty good at dishing out the payback, how does it feel to be on the receiving end?”

  Freddy cleared his throat. “Um, excuse me. Have you decided what you want me—”

  “What are you still doing here?” Cole barked.

  Freddy flinched and turned to leave, but Sage caught him by the arm.

  “He has every right to stay,” she countered. “Like the sign outside the door says, this event is open to the public.”

  Freddy glanced from Cole to Sage. A fine sheen of perspiration covered his forehead, sending the thick coating of makeup sliding down his face.

  Cole shoved his hands back into his pockets to keep from doing something that would make the onlookers accuse him of elder abuse. He kept his voice low. “If I have to tell you again, my foot is going to do the talking when I put it dead in your...”

  Freddy hightailed it out the door before he could finish his statement, and Cole pivoted back to Sage. “You’ve gone too far this time.”

  “Unlike Freddy, I don’t scare easily.”

  Cole opened his mouth to argue, but he spied a television news reporter and cameraman entering the ballroom. He inclined his head toward them, and Sage followed his gaze.

  “I’m not finished with you, but the last thing either of us wants to do is plaster fake smiles on our faces and answer questions right now.”

  She grunted. “Two things we can agree on.”

  “Let’s continue this elsewhere.”

  They ducked out of the ballroom’s side door but found the space outside it teeming with beauty gurus spilling over from both their events. Their conversation was bound to get ugly, and Cole was sure Sage didn’t want to have it out in the open any more than he did. Besides, between all the chatter and loud music, he could barely hear himself think.

  She walked a few feet ahead of him as they looked for somewhere they wouldn’t be overheard. Cole caught the sweet sway of her ass in that minidress and the needle heels of her thigh-high boots as she walked.

  Remembering the stunt this woman had just pulled, he tried to look away. However, his traitorous eyes stubbornly refused and continued to enjoy the view.

  Get a grip, man, he silently admonished when the sight of her made him want to slide his hands along her toned thighs until they gripped her hips as he drove into her over and over again.

  Cole blew out a breath and reached deep for willpower he hadn’t known he possessed. He forced himself to think of the faux crone who, thanks to the woman in front of him, would be associated with Espresso in the minds of some of the internet’s most influential beauty gurus.

  It did the trick and put an abrupt end to his unwanted hard-on. With the blood flowing back to the head on his shoulders, he could think clearly.

  “In here.” Cole yanked opened the door to one of the hotel’s utility rooms around the corner from the ballroom.

  Sage stopped, turned on her heels and followed him inside, closing the door behind them. She switched on the light, and he glanced around what turned out to be a linen closet. It was a tight space, but it would do for the serious conversation they needed to have—now. The tablecloths, sheets and towels stacked on the surrounding shelves would also muffle the inevitable yelling.

  She crossed her arms as she lifted her chin to glare up at him. There was a mulish set to her jaw. Cole tried to process how Sage Matthews made red-hot fury look, well, hot.

  Again, he forced himself to think of the newly dubbed Espresso Granny crashing his event and making a damn spectacle.

  “Just what kind of game do you think you’re playing?” he asked.

  “Me?” Sage’s outraged eyes continued to blaze into his.

  “Yes, you! This was business, pure and simple. You and that Freddy character made it personal.”

  “Don’t you dare try to put the blame on me. You took it there when you insinuated I didn’t have the know-how to grow the company I started at my kitchen table.” She raised her voice to match his as she pointed a finger at her chest. “My company, Mr. Sinclair, and you’d best believe it’s going to stay that way.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on...”

  A loud thump sounded against the door. Cole stopped midsentence, and they both turned toward it.

  “Are you sure the general’s in there?” A muffled voice asked on the other side of the door.

  “I saw her go in a few minutes ago,” A woman replied.

  “Why would she be in a utility closet?”

  “I don’t know. Probably looking for a broom to ride on.” A couple of guffaws followed their so-called joke.

  Cole looked at Sage, and they both turned back to the door.

  “Make sure you jam it in there tight.”

  “What the...?” Sage lunged for the door and twisted the knob.

  Cole heard smothered giggles over the music blasting from the Grand Ballroom as the covert conversation continued.

  “That ought to hold her awhile,” a third voice chimed in. “Now the rest of us can enjoy the remainder of Valentine’s Day, General-free.”

  Sage raised her fist and pounded against the door. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll open this door right now,” she shouted, and then tried the doorknob again.

  Nothing.

  Cole watched her hit the door harder and then kick it. “Did you hear me?” She yelled. “Let me out!”

  She glared over her shoulder at him. “I could use some help here,” she said. “In case it’s escaped your notice, we’ve been locked in here.”

  Cole folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the shelves behind him. “What exactly do you want me to do?”

  “Break the door down.” She kicked it and winced. “Or use a credit card to pop the lock like the burglars do on television.”

  “In case it’s escaped your notice, that door is made of steel, and unfortunately, my undergrad major was in chemistry not breaking and entering.”

  Sage blinked. “Chemistry?”

  “You, too?”

  She nodded once. It shouldn’t have surprised either of them. Every time they were together, another similarity came to light. He held her gaze a moment, before she diverted her eyes and returned her attention to the door.

  “Help!” She pounded on it again. “Help! Open the door! Let us out of here!”

  “You’re wasting your time yelling,” Cole said. “Sounds like someone cranked up the volume on the music. Nobody can hear. Call the front desk on your mobile. They’ll send someo
ne up to open the door.”

  Sage held up her hands up. “I left it in my purse—we’ll have to use yours.”

  “Battery died. I’d planned to charge it in my car but got sidetracked by that dumb stunt you pulled back in the ballroom.”

  “Dumb stunt?” She harrumphed, folded her arms and leaned her back against the door. “You had no business in that ballroom or this hotel in the first place.”

  Cole tilted his head to one side. “Speaking of stunts, do you have any idea who locked us in here? I didn’t recognize the voices,” he said. “I also don’t remember seeing any military personnel around here, and I certainly would have noticed someone with the rank of general.”

  A flush of pink tinged her light brown face. She looked down at the floor as she mumbled an answer to the question.

  “Speak up, I couldn’t make out what you said over the racket of the music.”

  “It’s me, all right?” She exhaled. “Some of my employees call me General behind my back, and they’re the culprits.”

  Cole snorted, shaking his head. “Which puts us right back to this entire mess of a morning being all your fault. I hope you’re satisfied.” He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on top of a stack of clean towels. “Who knows when we’ll get the hell out of here now, General?”

  He watched her mouth open, close and open again like a beached fish gasping for air. Red overtook the flush of pink staining her cheeks. The fire of their tempers sucked the oxygen from the tiny space, making it feel even smaller.

  “How dare you?” Her teeth were clenched as she ground out the words. “Today was supposed to be all about Stiletto. You’re the one who made a mess of it.”

  Cole glowered across the small space at her. “So what did you expect me to do after that billboard? Roll over and play dead?” He was sure anger had left him just as red in the face. “You told me to bring it. All I did was honor your request.”

  A noise that sounded like a growl emitted from her, before she advanced on him, all high heels and big hair. Again, Cole couldn’t help notice, even pissed off, that Sage Matthews was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen.