"You're not really my type.” Who's lying now, Harper?
"So what is your type? A woman in shorts and a boob tube with an empty space for a brain?"
"Meow,” he chided. “Not nice."
A soft pink flush colored her cheeks. He liked that. Showed she wasn't as hard as she made out to be. A point definitely in her favor.
"I'm sorry."
"That's okay. I figure it took a lot of guts for you to walk in here. What I can't figure out is why me? There are plenty of guys out there who'd take up your offer."
"Perhaps,” she acquiesced, wiping the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip, an action Cade found himself following in minute detail and wished he could be that tongue tasting her lips.
Damn it. He was hooked, and his arousal had made itself blatantly obvious and him uncomfortable. Embarrassed to be caught like a schoolboy on heat, he moved to sit behind his desk.
"You're renowned for the parade of women you leave behind."
His rumbling laughter filled the room. “You've done your homework,” he said.
"I'm a businesswoman. I know my business."
"And sex is your business?"
"No!"
He could see he'd shocked her. Her eyes widened like saucers, all glistening, and ... innocent. Cade's teeth scraped across his bottom lip. Such a tempting proposal.
Taylor continued. “Weddings, love and commitment are my business."
"Yet you search me out knowing commitment is definitely not my middle name."
"That's exactly why I chose you. You don't believe in ever lasting love or roses and the white picket fence deal."
"For others, maybe, but not me,” he agreed. “But you, Taylor, are a wedding planner; you've got to be a romantic at heart."
"I'm a businesswoman. Marriage is a good business."
"And yet, you haven't married."
Taylor shrugged, but she couldn't hide the shadow of sadness that washed across her eyes before the fall of her heavy lashes blotted it out.
"So now we get back to my commitment, or lack of it,” Cade said, drawing her from her memories.
Taylor fixed her steadfast blue eyes on him. She meant business. “Mr. Harper, I don't want commitment, either. So, we're a good match. And I have a deal for you."
Cade's eyebrows quirked upwards. “This gets more interesting by the minute. But maybe you should try Cade. It's less formal, since we'll be getting to know each other ... intimately."
* * * *
Taylor choked back a cough.
She twisted her shaking hands behind her back and linked her fingers. Her chin lifted upwards a fraction. “I understand you're looking at expanding the chain and starting up more of a boutique line of cocktail bars."
"I'm surprised you found that out. It hasn't been advertised."
"I told you, I'm a..."
"Businesswoman. Yeah. I know. Very impressive. So, what's the deal?"
"You want to expand, to expose yourself."
A burst of laughter rumbled from Cade's chest. “Sounds provocative."
"I ... didn't mean the way it sounded,” she stammered.
"I know, just teasing. Sorry, you were offering me a sweetener to this proposal of yours.” He folded his arms across his chest, which did nothing for Taylor's equilibrium as she eyed the play of his T-shirt over taut muscles.
Taylor breathed. Deeply. And again, and again, trying to remain calm. “I know promotions,” she said formally. “I'll promote your new venture, for ... ah..."
"Services rendered,” he offered.
Her lips pursed. “Something like that."
Cade pushed himself from his desk and stood in front of her. His gaze dropped to her face. He cupped her chin, thumb circling her cheek. His touch felt so soft and so gentle, she almost purred.
"I'm definitely interested. But let's get this straight. You use your promotional skills in return for my lovemaking skills?"
Taylor's breath whooshed out in a sharp exhalation. Oh, Lord. It sounded brazen and so not her. Again, she wondered what on earth was she doing?
Getting in too deep without a lifejacket, that's what.
But Cade had agreed and now she had to close the deal. “There's just one thing,” she said, aware as her body tilted forward, anticipation zinging through her veins.
"Another request?” Cade's eyes narrowed, suspicion and an almost jaundiced expectation flickering across his face. He shrugged. “Okay, shoot."
"Well...” Taylor prevaricated, unable to focus on anything but his mouth. Fear pitted in her belly, but mostly she was excited—like a child in a candy shop. She took a deep steadying breath and spoke.
"I need you to kiss me."
Chapter Two
"Easy request.” Cade's mouth quirked to one side, and Taylor found herself focusing on his dimples—again. “It'd be my pleasure."
Pleasure. Lordy. The word rolled off the tip of his tongue as if simply saying it invoked what he wanted to do to her. The thought sent a shivery heat skimming across her skin.
"Any particular type of kiss?"
Oh, hell.
"A peck on the cheek, or the full Monty?"
Double hell.
Cade's eyes narrowed, and the heat in her cheeks reached volcanic proportions. Her body hummed with expectation, senses firing on all cylinders. Barely inches from him, she searched his face. No mirth. Instead, scalding hot lust shone in Cade's eyes, promising everything.
Then his lips were on hers, and Taylor couldn't tell if she'd acted first or if he had. Just that he tasted warm and soft. And delicious.
He laced one hand through her hair and gently tugged at the pins holding it in place, tossing them aside. The soft ping as they hit the floor was inaudible compared to the roar of her heartbeat. As her hair cascaded around them in a silken veil, Cade cupped her face, the flat pad of one thumb teasing the curve of her jaw.
He moaned his pleasure. “This feels good."
Taylor's stomach clenched, nerve endings jump-starting. Her eyes closed, and she shifted closer to him, coming to rest against the apex of his long legs. She wanted more, needed to touch him and linked her hands around his neck, feeling the sinewy flex of his muscles. Her fingertips brushed against his hair—a thousand electric volts washing over every sensitive cell of her skin.
"You feel so good,” he murmured against her mouth. But Cade's husky drawl slipped between them and sliced her fantasy in two. She stilled. Her fingers arrested their exploratory dance and pushed him away. “We can't. Not here."
"We just did.” He paused. “Kiss, that is."
Taylor lifted her gaze and looked at him. How could he remain so calm and collected while she struggled for a semblance of propriety? She tugged at her clothes, but her hands shook and nothing seemed to work. She wished she were anywhere but here.
"There are people just through that door,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “Anyone could walk in."
"We could lock the door."
Taylor's blood sizzled. “You've caught me off-guard."
Cade stared down into her eyes, searching, as if he wanted to see every part of her. “What did you expect? You come waltzing into my bar with some concocted scheme and then ask for a kiss. Was it some sort of test?"
Taylor's mind raced with so many thoughts she couldn't make sense of anything. All she could focus on was the taste of Cade on her lips. She wanted to wipe it off—but it tasted far too good.
Cade drew a ragged breath, and his narrowed glare pinned her to the spot. “Damn it. You wanted to test the goods first,” he accused. He paced the small room, then abruptly turned and rested his large frame against the desk. He folded his arms across his chest. Big and powerful.
Sexy as sin, and sin suddenly seemed enticing.
"Well?"
"There has to be some spark, doesn't there?” Taylor challenged weakly.
"Spark?” Cade cursed. He dragged a hand through his unruly hair. “If you felt the full force of my spark, sweethea
rt, you'd run a mile."
"I would not,” she denied.
"Hell, you would. That spark was ... hot damn it."
"Look, I think I should go.” See, you are running. Taylor ignored her subconscious. “This is a bad idea,” she said and gathered up her bag—carefully this time. With as much dignity as she could muster, she turned to leave. “I'm sorry."
She sucked in a deep breath, steeling herself for the crowd outside and nodded curtly at Cade. “Goodbye.” She reached for the door.
"Where are you going?” Cade's sharp tone brought her to a halt, and she shot him a “what do you care” look over her shoulder.
"Home."
"How?"
"I'll call a cab."
But before she had a chance to stall him, Cade snatched up keys from his desk. “I'll take you."
She gripped the door, knuckles bleached of color. “I'd prefer a cab, thank you.
"I know you would, Taylor.” He dangled the keys. “No tricks. Gentleman's honor.” And he crossed his heart.
Taylor went to speak, but he silenced her with the tip of his finger resting against her parted lips.
Silence zinged between them, and Taylor had the distinct urge to wrap her tongue around the tip of his finger. To suck it. Very blatantly, and very sexually.
"Don't argue, Ms. Sullivan.” He gave her a sheepish grin that did more to her equilibrium than Taylor wanted to admit. “Mind you, we could call it our first lovers’ tiff."
"Lovers?” she exhaled and went limp against him.
The flat of his hand palmed the small of her back and with the other he switched the light out. Darkness encircled them, a sweet relief from his knowing gaze. She could feel his heat; hear the rampaging beat of her heart behind her ribs.
"You put some crazy proposition to me tonight, Taylor Sullivan, and, damn it, I have no idea why, but let's just say you've got a date."
Oh, boy.
"A date.” Those two words sounded extraordinarily provocative.
Out in the bar, Cade walked beside her, but Taylor's emotions were frayed and she couldn't even look at him. He called out to the young woman at the bar and gave her a wave. “Hey, sis, gotta go somewhere."
"Who's the lady, Cade?” came a shout from the direction of the pool table.
"Never you mind, Harry Fontain. Keep your mitts off."
A raucous hoot of laughter rippled around the room. “I think our Cade's found himself a hot chick."
"'Bout time,” called another.
Cade waved the crowd off and directed Taylor towards the exit, the pressure of his hand increasing.
She couldn't get out of there fast enough, and the moment they walked through the exit, she breathed a sigh of relief.
His expression was all apologetic. “Sorry about that. It's football night; the guys are celebrating a win by the local footie team."
"You seem to know everyone,” she said as she walked at his side.
"Goes with the territory. The more you get to know your customer, the better business is. They think you're interested in their life, so they feel at home. And if they feel comfortable, then they're likely to spend more."
"Makes sense."
"Yeah, it does. But damned if this does.” He frowned and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. Taylor followed his movements, and her eyes widened as she saw what his tight jeans emphasized. She slid her tongue over her lips nervously as a wave of panic washed through her.
"You don't have to do this,” she said.
"Don't I?"
"No,” she reaffirmed, but she couldn't stall the sense of disappointment she'd feel if Cade changed his mind. “Look I'll help you with your business. It doesn't matter about the ... ah ... other thing."
"The virginity thing?"
Taylor swallowed hard. Why hadn't she done something about this a long time ago? But she knew why. Her life had been hijacked.
They turned the corner and wove their way through the rows of cars before coming to a halt beside a sleek classic car.
A gasp of surprise flew from her lips. “This Mustang is yours?” She reached out to the car. It stood alone, under the streetlight, beautiful, elegant, charged.
"Sure is."
She heard the unmistakable sound of admiration and joy in Cade's acknowledgement and noticed the way his hands caressed the car's sleek curves. She dragged her gaze away, wanting to disown her thoughts. Trouble was, they ignited imagery as if the car's curves were hers. Skin against skin. Cade next to her. Hot, sleek and very tempting.
"Very impressive. ‘64 Mustang, eight cylinder, isn't it?"
"You know cars?"
A soft flutter of laughter broke the hush. “Don't sound so surprised. Women can be ‘into’ cars, just as much as men."
"I know. I just didn't expect it."
"Why? Don't I look like a petrol head?"
"No, more like a prim little nun. A good girl,” he confirmed. He looked at her then. Really looked. Slow and deliberate. His hands slid through her hair, draping it over him. A veil of golden silk; such a sensual act that she held her breath. It also exposed vulnerability in her, that until now, Taylor refused to acknowledge.
She wondered what Cade saw. The real her? Or the sensible girl, the façade she enacted for everyone, including her family. Had he been able to bridge the gap between? Did she want him to?
To Cade Harper, she was a prim little girl, about to be bad.
Without speaking, Cade opened the car door, and she slid in, careful not to get too close. However, once seated Taylor wasn't so sure accepting his offer was a good idea. The interior was small and far too intimate and only served to fire her wayward hormones.
In clipped tones, she gave him her address and retreated into silence.
As the car eased out of the car park, excitement, fear and anticipation all rolled into one coursed through her veins. It forced Taylor to focus on emotions she'd never experienced before, and she felt totally inadequate. Nothing in her life had prepared her for Cade. Being engaged to Rob held nothing on being taken for a ride by Cade Harper.
And there lay her problem.
"So how come wedding planning? Don't the couple and their families do that?” Cade asked as they drove through the silent suburb.
Her tension eased with a sigh of relief. This was her forte, and at last she could relax. “In the past, yes. But today people want something different."
"And you can give it to them?” he questioned. Although Cade drove, Taylor read the true interest in his expression. She smiled, and then chuckled with laughter.
"What?” And he gave her a comical expression. “What did I say wrong?"
"Nothing. It's just the same expression I've seen many times before. The grooms would be happy with a tent and few beers, then the bride gets some ideas, and it's never the same again. Horrified groom versus excited bride."
"So what do you do?"
"Dr. Phil says if the ‘wife ain't happy, then neither will anyone else be'. So seems to me there's a bit of meeting in the middle to get it sorted."
Cade looked suitably appalled, then refocused on the road. “And does it—get sorted I mean?"
"Mostly."
"So what sort of weddings, besides expensive, do you conjure up for ‘happy’ couples?"
"Fantasy, of course,” she said proudly. “I create fantasies and give the couple the dream wedding they've always wanted."
Cade brought the Mustang to a halt right outside her house. The night-light switched on automatically. Taylor frowned. No necking on the doorstep. She'd have to get rid of that light first thing in the morning.
He switched the engine off, and suddenly everything was silent.
"What about your dreams, Taylor?"
Her stomach clenched. “I haven't got any."
"None?"
"No.” Not any more. She wouldn't allow herself to dream, and uncomfortable with his questioning, she stared out the window at the night.
"You like Devonport?”
Cade asked, looking around at the character houses. “It seems a nice suburb."
"Mm, I like the close-knit community. It's the oldest suburb, so a sense of unity has built up over many years."
"Not afraid of the ghost on Mt. Victoria?"
"Never seen it, so how can I be afraid of it?"
"But you're afraid of me,” he stated.
Taylor looked at him. Was she? She eyed his strong hands. She'd already felt their touch, knew what they could do to her. She imagined them touching her, again. Everywhere. “No, I'm not afraid of you, Cade. Only of what I don't know."
"And you think you know me?"
"Enough,” she said succinctly.
"Enough to trust me?"
Taylor hesitated. “Not quite,” she admitted, and then smiled a little shyly. “But ... soon."
"That's good."
"I'm sorry if I put you on the spot tonight."
"Don't worry about it."
"So you get propositioned all the time?"
Cade shrugged. “Goes with the job."
She unlocked the door and pushed it open.
"One more thing.” Cade's hand touched her bare shoulder and sparks flew. Her breath stalled in her lungs. She turned back to him, but when he cupped her face in an almost tender embrace, its gentleness sucked everything from her.
Then he kissed her.
Taylor gasped and inhaled his scent. The physicality of him. Pure sex. Pure male. It almost sent her over the edge, to a place she didn't know. She kissed him back.
He teased her mouth, grazing her bottom lip with the scrape of his teeth and once again, Taylor began to drown.
"You can't bury yourself in your fantasy weddings, Taylor Sullivan.” His voice almost purred against her cheek.
But Taylor's brain had shut down to everything but the taste of him, and the aching need that swelled deep down inside her.
"This is our fantasy. Is this what you want?” he asked.
Definitely. But Taylor didn't say so. She couldn't admit it. Not out loud. Not even to herself, really. She pulled away and grappled for oxygen. She needed to breathe. But oh, how she needed Cade's kiss to go on forever.
Nothing is forever.
With shaking fingers she battled for control, fumbling in her purse. She refused look at the condoms. “Here's my card. If you..."
He's the One Page 2
