HE'S THE ONE
JANE BECKENHAM
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Copyright
Linden Bay Romance, LLC
www.lindenbayromance.com
Copyright ©2007 by Jane Beckenham
First published in www.lindenbayromance.com, 2007
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NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
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HE'S THE ONE
Published by Linden Bay Romance, 2007
Linden Bay Romance, LLC, U.S.
ISBN Trade paperback: 978-1-60202-071-9
ISBN MS Reader (LIT): 978-1-60202-070-2
Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):
PDF, PRC & HTML
Copyright © Patricia Jane Beckenham, 2007
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
The work is protected by copyright and should not be copied without permission. Linden Bay Romance, LLC reserves all rights. Re-use or re-distribution of any and all materials is prohibited under law.
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events or locales is coincidental.
Cover art by Beverly Maxwell
Chapter One
"Virginity is overrated,” Taylor Sullivan pronounced, exhaling every pent up emotion she'd bottled for the past twenty-four hours. Ever since she'd seen him, Mr. Perfect-For-The-Job. Pivoting on her heels she gripped her assistant's arm. “This is a mistake."
"No, it's not. You said yourself, he's the one."
"What do I know? I mean, who is he?"
"Cade Harper. Bad boy made good—and one sexy hunk. Is that enough for you?” Nita gave her a suggestive grin.
Oh yeah.
Taylor wiped sweaty palms down the sides of her skirt. “The fairy godmother handing out good looks at his bassinet sure was kind,” she said, remembering the handsome man who'd stood haloed by light streaming in from the stained glass window.
But now, twenty-four hours later as the throbbing beat of music threaded its way into the vestibule where she and Nita waited, Taylor's wayward nerves vaulted into overdrive.
"I should never have told you."
Nita shrugged. “Probably not, but, hey, I get those calls, too."
"But you can answer them,” Taylor countered.
"So, what are you going to do about it, Taylor?"
Taylor bit down on her bottom lip, chewing it as if it afforded her the luxury of time. “I don't want a relationship."
"Who said anything about a relationship? This is a fling. A one-nighter. Get you past first base, so to speak."
First base! Taylor swallowed the lump that choked off her breathing. The icy chill sliding along her bones had nothing to do with Auckland's balmy May evening breeze.
Her fingers grazed the side of her handbag and snapped back as if scalded.
Condoms. An appropriate reminder: preparation and safety first.
She could do this. She could.
She grabbed Nita's arm. “Okay. Let's go."
Nita stalled mid-step. “What? You expect me to come, too?"
"I need you. I can't do this on my own. I need..."
"Cade Harper is who you need, Taylor. You said so yourself. Cade's a love and leave ‘em sort of guy. Don't get caught. Now, go.” Nita gave her a push towards the entrance.
Love and leave. Definitely perfect credentials. Cade didn't know it yet, but he was the answer to Taylor's prayers
Battling the raw panic lodged in her gut, as every second edged her towards turning and running, Taylor surveyed the patrons as they walked past and into the bar. Her hands shook. She wanted to forget the idea. Forget sex. Forget Cade Harper. Instead she focused on the entrance, and her pulse quickened.
The best man. How appropriate.
Cade hadn't been at the wedding rehearsal; otherwise she would have noticed him. But at the wedding, dressed in a black tuxedo that molded his broad shoulders, the crisp white dress shirt with its diamond stud buttons, he absolutely stood out. In a second, she had made her decision. He was perfect for the job.
Squaring her shoulders, Taylor shoved the door open. For a moment, she stood motionless, eyes adjusting to the dim lighting, the noise and heat hitting her in an undulating wave. Taking a deep breath, she clutched her bag and ventured in.
A single length of hand-chiseled wood that operated as a bar spanned one end of the room. Behind it were a medley of liquors and an ornate mirror etched with the words of a famous beer. Tables and chairs dotted around the room were mostly taken. In one corner a jukebox emitted an ear piercing rock band, while an eager group of players surrounded a pool table in another corner.
All this was of little consequence to Taylor, because right there was her quarry—Cade Harper.
He stood behind the bar, a cocktail shaker in one hand and a salt-crusted margarita glass in the other.
He looked good. Tawny, sun bronzed hair that tapered over his collar and the same unruly tendril dipping over his forehead that refused to be controlled.
Very sexy.
No tuxedo tonight, but a black T-shirt with the sleeves rolled back, stretched taut over biceps that flexed and...
Oh, God.
A bad boy.
Taylor wiped a hand across her brow, slaking her tongue across suddenly parched lips. The temperature had escalated several degrees in one blazing second.
Partially hidden by a potted ficus, she watched him, heart dancing an erratic beat.
"Can I help you?"
Taylor spun round.
"I..."
Same coloring, same dark eyes, albeit female, smaller and delicate, but definitely in Cade's image. Taylor glanced toward Cade over the woman's head. “I'm here to see Mr. Harper,” she mumbled. Mister! Good grief! She wanted to have sex with this man, and she called him mister!
"Cade?” his replica responded, eyebrows quirking upwards.
Taylor nodded, relieved the woman didn't ask any questions and wondered at the same time what her reaction would have been if she'd said, “It's about sex."
"Follow me.” The young woman crooked her finger toward Taylor, turned and wove her way between tables. With clammy hands and a tangle of trepidation and anticipation colliding inside her stomach, Taylor hurried after her.
"Cade."
"Yeah.” He handed the margarita to a customer and Taylor's gaze followed the salt-rimmed glass. It shimmered under the overhead lighting, and she found herself licking her lips, almost tasting the delicious salt.
"Lady to see you."
The moment Cade turned, everything changed. Taylor's voice stalled in her throat, and she knew, when his smiling eyes captured hers, she was in way over her head. He may have been a bad boy, but he was certainly one sexy guy.
Cade wiped his hands on a cloth, and again Taylor's gaze followed. Long lean fingers. Fingers that would touch ... Oh, boy!
He smiled. “You want to see me?"
She nodded and felt herself drowning in that smile. His dark eyes twinkled, a swirl of gold and chocolate brown. Just like Hershey Kisses.
Kisses!
Yep! She was definitely going under.
"Lady, I don't mean to be rude, but I've got a bar to run,” he said, grabbing a knife and cutting a lemon into wafer thin slices.
Taylor shook herself. Okay. Come on. Just say it. “I've got a favor to ask."
"Ask away then,” he said, not looking up.
Taylor burned with embarrassment and eye
d the milling crowd. “Actually, it's a proposition."
He definitely looked then, and his gaze focused directly on her. He quietly placed the razor sharp knife on the cutting board. “Sounds intriguing."
Sounds stupid.
He leaned forward and rested both hands on the bar, the flex and tension in his forearms a powerful tease. Taylor swallowed hard.
"Is there anywhere we can talk—privately?"
"Out back in the den.” He flicked a hand towards a door leading from behind the bar.
"More like going into the lion's den,” Taylor muttered.
"You say something?"
"Ah ... no.” Taylor dropped her gaze. Damn. Why hadn't she chosen a different career? One where her clients didn't ask about sex!
Holding herself stiff and feeling as if all eyes followed her movements, she walked behind the bar. As she brushed past him, the musky scent of his cologne teased her senses. Taylor willed the butterflies dancing a tango in her stomach to abate.
They didn't listen.
No more than a storeroom, with boxes piled high along three of its four walls, and a desk barely visible beneath a pile of papers and computer sheets, this room wore many different hats.
Transfixed to the spot, suddenly every word she'd practiced dissolved from her memory. Cade closed the door behind him, the soft click of the latch echoed a thousand-fold. She spun round. He leaned against the door, arms folded across his formidable chest, his gaze candid.
He looked dangerous—but very delicious.
He spoke first. “Do I know you?"
"Not really.” Not yet.
"Shame.” He gave another of his long, lingering smiles, the kind that emphasized the dimples either side of his sexy mouth. It set her toes curling and her body pulsing.
The temperature gauge hit jackpot, and Taylor felt very much out of her depth.
Here goes.
"I'm Taylor Sullivan. We didn't meet—exactly, at Brianna Bennett's wedding. I was her planner.” She jerked out her hand. Cade took it in his, warm strong fingers enveloping hers. The tips were slightly calloused and the friction sent a cortege of goose bumps skittering across her heated skin. Taylor willed herself not to yank her hand from his and held herself in check.
"You touting for another wedding to plan?” Cade pushed away from the door, dwarfing the room. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of jeans that skimmed his long muscular thighs. “If you are,” he said, twisting to face her. “Sorry, but marriage and I don't mix."
Taylor tightened her grip on her bag, desperate to silence the slamming of her heartbeat. “So I heard."
"You've heard more about me than I have of you,” he replied.
A hint of a smile tipped the corners of her mouth. “You're quite well-known, Mr. Harper. Successful and entrepreneurial."
"I work hard."
"And play hard, so the papers say."
"Gossip and innuendo,” he countered, his steely gaze sizing her up.
A sticky bead of sweat trickled between her breasts. Cade hadn't taken his eyes off her since they'd entered the back room.
That has to be a good thing. Shows he's interested, her subconscious reminded her.
Taylor shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.
It's now or never, Sullivan.
With a deep, soothing, breath, she pulled herself to her full five-foot-ten height and dived in.
"I want you to have sex with me."
Cade's dark eyes bolted wide. “Whoa."
Surprised? Absolutely.
Heat suffused Taylor's cheeks. “Oh, hell, this is stupid.” How dumb could she be? She reached for her bag, but the over-laden carry-all slid from her fingers and upended, scattering its contents across the floor.
Taylor gasped and for one, long, drawn out second, she simply stared. Her breath strangulated in her throat, and a furious heat burned behind her eyes. There, right at Cade's feet, lay her box of condoms.
"Stupid, stupid.” Blinking back tears, she stumbled to her knees and gathered everything as fast as she could. Cade reached the condoms the second before she did.
"You must be a good Girl Scout,” he said and passed the box to her. Their fingers touched. Their eyes met. Holding. She couldn't breathe. All the oxygen had been sucked from her lungs and her heart beat franticly.
She pulled away, shaking her head, struggling for a semblance of practicality.
"Always be prepared. Isn't that their motto?” Cade chuckled
This was bad. Really bad. Mortified, Taylor refused to look at him, and kept her lips firmly closed. She shoved the box into her bag and zipped it closed with a resounding tug.
Open up again, she warned silently, and you'll be in the rubbish bin.
Straightening, she walked to the door and opened it. Strains of Dr. Hook's “Sexy Eyes” wafted into the small room.
How appropriate! Cade's dark eyes were just that, down right sinful and sexy.
"Wait."
Taylor stiffened and squeezed her eyes shut. “Why?"
"You've just proposed something way out there, Taylor Sullivan, and I want to know why."
Her hand fell from the door, and she slowly turned around. Holding herself in check she fixed her gaze on Cade, keeping it steady, despite her frazzled nerves. “So you can enjoy my embarrassment, tell your mates about this stupid woman who offered sex on a platter,” she countered.
But he didn't laugh. Instead, a deep frown marred his handsome face. “No. You came to me, remember?"
"I know. But why do I feel as if you're the cat toying with the mouse?” Taylor said honestly.
"I asked you to wait because I might want to say yes.” He stepped closer then, and his tall frame cast a shadow about the room.
Tension knotted in Taylor's stomach, and her breasts felt suddenly heavy and full. Remember to breathe. Slowly. In ... and out. She repeated it silently, a mantra as she battled to regain a semblance of control.
"You intrigue me, Taylor Sullivan."
"And you'd have sex for such a flimsy reason?"
Wasn't she doing exactly the same? But Taylor refused to answer her own question.
Cade's seductive gaze traveled her length, lighting a trail of heat to the tips of her toes.
"Depends. Are you going to tell me why you walked in here and offered yourself? Sex is a serious game."
Taylor searched for the right words, unsure really if there were any right ones. “In my business, I need experience."
"You plan weddings; you don't have to sleep with the grooms."
Taylor gasped, but not one single word came out and as the seconds ticked by, the color rose in her cheeks, hotter and hotter. Cade wanted an answer. Deserved one. She clutched her bag, kneading the leather. “I ... get asked questions,” she finally managed to whisper.
"What sort of questions?"
"What do you think? Damn it, Cade, do I have to spell it out?"
"Seems so,” he said with the hint of amusement glittering in his way too sexy eyes.
"You're enjoying this."
"Sure,” he said, not even denying it. He gave another of his smiles, the ones that got her all hot and bothered. She was very bothered.
"I get asked questions—about sex. S.E.X. Got it?” Taylor looked everywhere, but at Cade. This wasn't how her life was meant to be. She'd had it all planned, sorted, just like her family.
"Got it.” She thought he'd laugh, joke, something, but not this ... not gentle. Cade caught her chin in his fingers, turning her so she had to look at him. “So why not answer them?"
Oh, man. Where were those damned red shoes of Dorothy's when she needed them? Kansas looked pretty appealing right now.
"I can't answer them."
"Can't?"
The tip of her tongue washed along the edge of her teeth. “Look, I realize this is on the edge of weird."
"True,” he agreed, much to her chagrin. “It's not every day I have a beautiful lady come into my bar and ask for sex."
Didn
't he? Why not? Cade was hunk material. He made her forget—everything.
"The questions are something that goes with the territory of being a wedding planner. Brides get nervous,” she said, hugging her bag to her chest. “They may be experienced, even living with their partners, but sometimes as the wedding draws near, they get skittery. They ask, um ... questions—about sex. Questions I can't answer, because..."
"Because you're a virgin?"
"That's right."
Oh, God in heaven! Heat burned her face. Her scalp. Everywhere. She speared Cade with a direct glare. Don't you dare laugh! Don't you make me feel any worse than I do, she silently challenged.
But he didn't laugh. He didn't smile. What he did was worse. Much worse.
He closed the gap between them. Taylor's body erupted into high alert, nipples pebbling beneath her lacy bra. She could deal with him at a distance. But close up, everything changed. Body heat got in the way.
* * * *
Taylor Sullivan certainly captured his attention. She wanted sex with him. Bemused, Cade stared down into eyes the color of a field of cornflowers beneath a wide blue sky. The kind of eyes that made him feel she could see deep into his soul, understand things he didn't want her to know. Things he hid even from himself. All this from one moment in time.
He blinked.
What the hell was wrong with him? Thank God he'd kept those thoughts to himself.
"Most women who come in here asking for sex are..."
"Hookers,” she offered.
Cade watched her bite at her bottom lip. He wanted it to be him. “I should say no. It's a wild scheme."
"Why don't you?"
Yeah, why not, Cade?
With her hair tied up and the prim and proper clothes she wore and with no hint of skin, it was as if she tried to hide the real woman. Taylor Sullivan in no way exemplified how he thought a wedding planner would look.
Then she smiled at him and all thoughts of a prim little miss vanished, and he realized, with the shock of a man used to making solid, sensible business decisions, he'd found himself actually considering Taylor's offer.
In the past, plenty of women wanted him, but he preferred to do the chasing.
He's the One Page 1
