Winning Her Over by Alexa Rowan Page A

hadn’t had time for lunch, and the energy bar she’d wolfed down between her afternoon clients had long since worn off.
    Luckily Cal seemed just as hungry, quickly polishing off his first slice of asparagus and ham before stealing a slice of her porcini and homemade sausage. She raised an eyebrow, but didn’t otherwise protest his presumptuousness.
    “Pizza tax.” He grinned at her before biting off a mouthful of her meal. Then he groaned, his eyes rolling back into his head. After he swallowed, his eyes slowly opened. “Oh my God. That sausage is incredible. I think I’m dying!”
    Brenna stilled, her unvoiced protest forgotten as she feasted on his expression. If Cal looked anything like that when he came, it would be the sexiest thing she’d ever see.
    She trembled with an unholy eagerness to find out, squeezing her thighs together under the table. This wasn’t just a meal between friends. It was foreplay, and it was killing her. Because despite her incredibly hot, incredibly detailed fantasies of bringing Cal back to her place after dinner, she knew it wasn’t going to happen. She wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of girl. She wasn’t even a casual sex kind of girl.
    So, with the sparks Cal had set off already incinerating her from within, Brenna played out the charade he’d arranged so she could feel comfortable about going out with him. She swiped a slice of his pizza and bit into it, her eyes never leaving his. Then she swallowed, grinning evilly. Like a friend might do. A non-lustful, non-sex-starved friend who wasn’t in the midst of a very lengthy dry spell. “Now we’re even.”
    He shook his head slowly. “Nope.” The heat flaring in his eyes was unmistakable. “We’re just getting started.”

    * * *
    W hat the hell had he been thinking?
    As Cal waited for their check, and for Brenna’s return from the ladies’ room, he believed he knew the answer to that. His brain had taken a back seat to instincts urging him to break from The Plan, for once.
    He’d devised The Plan in high school, soon after he’d decided he wanted to be a partner in a law firm when he grew up—just like his dad. The Plan had evolved over time, but had always channeled his drive and ambition and given him the focus to succeed.
    It was why he’d been captain of the high school football team and valedictorian. It was why he’d been an Eagle Scout, and why he’d graduated summa cum laude from Brown. It was why he’d been invited to join the Order of the Coif when he’d graduated from law school. And it was why he was now on the verge of beating the odds facing all associates at large law firms, to make partner at one of the most prestigious “BigLaw” firms in the country.
    The only problem was, he was six fucking years too late.
    Cal had pushed forward with The Plan anyway. It had taken his mind off his grief. But he was having a hard time focusing on achieving his dreams at the moment. For God’s sake, in a day or two he’d be delivering the closing argument that could clinch the partnership decision, if he performed well. Yet here he was, going out for pizza with a smart, sexy masseuse—massage therapist. And enjoying himself more than any date he’d been on in longer than he cared to admit.
    The check finally arrived, bringing him back to reality. Cal looked it over, then stuck his corporate card in the vinyl folder’s little pocket.
    A few minutes later, Brenna came back to the table and sat down. Her forehead wrinkled into an adorable frown of dismay when she realized that he intended to pay for their meal. “Wait, what are you doing? We should split the bill,” she protested.
    “Look, I’m just going to expense it anyway. So it’s not even like it’s me taking you to dinner. It’s on the firm.”
    Her lips flattened. “Fine,” she said, though her tone contradicted the sentiment. Then her brows rose into twin arches. “You didn’t expense the massage, too, did you? With that enormous tip? I