“Here, here,” Macy said, and they clinked their glasses together.
Janna’s comment caused Iris to reflect back on her conversation with Nash Dupree, who labeled her as being the best. She wondered if he had noticed her staring at him throughout the conversation earlier today. Sure, she had been listening, but there were times she had tuned out and had zoned in on his magnificent lips...and that smile. He had the most beautiful, straight teeth she had ever seen on a man, which only enhanced his crooked, cocky grin. And those intense hazel eyes that missed nothing. Add those features to his alluring deep voice, and he was irresistible. God, what she would give to go home to a man with that voice who could talk dirty to her while....
“Hel-lo,” Macy said in a singsong voice, waving her hand in front of Iris’s face. “Are you still with us?”
Iris blinked several times and reached for her glass of water. Instead of bringing it to her mouth, she wanted to lay the cold cylinder against her cheek to cool the warmth that had spread to her face.
“You were smiling pretty hard there for a minute, sis,” Janna said. “So, what, or who, were you thinking about? Inquiring minds want to know.”
Iris had never fantasized about possible clients—or their guardians—before. She’d better get a grip. Talk about unprofessional. “Nobody,” she finally said.
“Mmm-hmm. That was a heck of smile for it to be about nobody. You know you can tell us,” Macy goaded. “Besides, it’s about time you met someone who makes you smile like that.”
Iris gave Macy a “drop it” look, but then noticed the way Janna was smiling. “And you’re talking about me being happy! What’s with you grinning from ear to ear like you have a secret that you’re dying to share?”
“Oh, I spotted an old friend who just walked in,” she said, patting her hair before she whispered, “Quick, do I have anything in my teeth? He’s coming over.” She flashed a smile at Iris.
“You’re good.”
Before Iris had a chance to glance back to see whom her sister was primping for, Janna slid from the booth and stood.
“Well, hey, there, stranger,” Janna greeted a tall gentleman, whose broad shoulders and long arms swallowed her up in an embrace. His back was to Iris, but his intoxicating, woodsy scent smelled mildly familiar.
Janna stepped out of his hug, but kept her hand on one of his arms. “It’s been a long time.”
“Yes, it has.” The stranger’s deep, melodious voice was familiar and captured Iris’s full attention. “I’m surprised to see you in Atlanta. Are you doing a shoot here?” he asked Janna.
“No.” Janna grabbed his other arm, turning him toward the table. “Actually, I’m here visiting my sisters. Let me introduce you.”
Iris’s heart slammed against her rib cage when the pair of hooded hazel eyes she’d been daydreaming about zoned in on her. Nash Dupree. Of all the restaurants in Atlanta, how is it that they ended up at the same one?
“This is my sister, Dr. Macy Carter, and my other sister, attorney Iris Sinclair.”
“Nice to meet you,” Nash said to Macy, shaking her hand before turning to Iris. “It’s good to see you again, Counselor.” He grasped her hand and Iris shivered when he brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it as he gazed into her eyes.
Iris stared back at him, enraptured by his attention and forgetting that they had an audience. When Macy cleared her throat, Iris quickly pulled her hand from Nash’s and dropped it into her lap. “It’s nice seeing you again, Mr. Dupree,” she sputtered, feeling, more so than seeing, her sisters’ gazes on her.
“Nash. Please call me Nash.”
“You two know each other?” Janna asked.
“Actually, we met this afternoon,” Nash volunteered, but before he could elaborate, the maître d’ of the restaurant informed him that his party had arrived. “I’m sorry. Though I would love to spend more time with you three lovely ladies, duty calls.” He kissed Janna on the cheek, bidding her a good evening, and then his gaze met Iris’s. “I look forward to seeing you again soon,” he said before he moved away from the table.
Iris watched him strut away with a swagger that had not only her mesmerized. Every other woman he passed—whether they were with a date or not—turned and eyed him from head to toe.
She turned back to her sisters, not surprised that they were staring at her. A hint of a smile lifted the edge of Janna’s mouth.
“Well, well, well, Macy, I think someone has been holding out on us. What do you think?”
“I think you’re right and if Ms. I-Don’t-Have-Time-for-a-Man doesn’t start talking soon, I’m going to have to give her one of my famous back-in-the-day beat-downs.”
Heat rose to Iris’s face. She quickly lowered her head and cut into her T-bone steak, shoving a chunk into her mouth. “So, how’s your pasta?” she asked Macy.
“Don’t you dare try changing the subject.” Janna leaned across the table and whispered, “How do you know Nash?”
Iris sighed, knowing her sisters weren’t going to let the subject drop until they had some details. Though she hadn’t officially agreed to take on Tania’s case, she was seriously thinking about it. That, at least, gave her the excuse that she couldn’t give much detail. “He came to see me about a legal matter.”
“Well, it looks like he’s interested in changing it to a personal matter.” Macy grinned and lifted her wineglass to her lips.
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?” Janna asked. “He’s suave, he’s the sweetest man I know, he’s wealthy and apparently he’s interested in you. What’s the problem?”
Iris narrowed her eyes at Janna. “Even if I were interested, which I’m not, I wouldn’t consider hooking up with him, knowing that you two have a history.”
Janna frowned. “I’ve never dated Nash. We’ve done a few magazine ads, a voice-over gig together, and he was my escort for one of Victoria’s Secret Angels events, but outside of that—” she shrugged “—nothing. We’ve never kissed, unless you count a kiss on the cheek.”
Iris scrutinized her sister. Though she believed her, she couldn’t imagine Nash Dupree not being attracted to Janna. She was a supermodel, for God’s sake. Men had always clamored for her attention, even when they were kids. Because of their nine-year age difference, Iris could remember how different her little sister’s high-school social life had been from hers. Then, Iris couldn’t pay a popular guy to give her the time of day, whereas Janna had actually complained about all the attention she received.
“Iris, he’s not the playboy the media make him out to be. Sure, he’s been seen with various women—”
“Not just any women,” Iris interrupted, “but famous, ridiculously gorgeous women.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. The same as it doesn’t mean anything when the paparazzi snap pictures of me and my dates or escorts. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it’s business, and I’m sure that’s the case with Nash. He could have dated a few, but it likely wasn’t serious. He has to be in the public’s eye to promote his nightclubs and all of his other business ventures, including his new clothing line. Iris, he’s nothing like how the media paint him.”
“How do you know?” Iris asked. If Janna hadn’t ever gone out with him, how could she be sure he wasn’t a playboy who tossed women aside like old newspapers?
“I know. Though we never dated, when we worked together, conversation came easy for us. So I know him. We’re friends. Now, don’t get me wrong, he loves women, but he’s not the type to lead women on or to be seriously involved with more than one at a time.”
“Face it. You have no excuse not to go out with him,” Macy chimed in.
“He hasn’t asked me out,” Iris said, more to herself than her sisters. If Nash’s playboy reputation, despite Janna’s reassurances, wasn’t enough to make Iris steer c
lear of him, the fact that she might represent his niece was all the more reason to slow her roll and this line of thinking.
Nash Dupree was as popular as a rock star, and he captured female attention wherever he went. Why was she even entertaining these thoughts? She shook her head. What is wrong with me? He would never be interested in someone like me.
* * *
Nash Dupree glanced across the semicrowded restaurant at Iris. He had a clear view of the table where she and her sisters were dining. He and Nigel Montgomery, chief operating officer of Dupree Enterprises and Nash’s best friend, were at a trendy restaurant in Midtown Atlanta to hear an internationally known jazz group perform. Nigel had insisted on his hearing them before the group left to go on a two-month European tour promoting its latest CD. The COO wanted the group to play at the grand opening of Platinum Pieces–Buckhead, Nash’s fourth jazz club, which was scheduled to open in four months. This location would also include a fine-dining restaurant. It was his second club in Atlanta, adding to a total of four; the other two were located in L.A.
Nash stole another glimpse at Iris while Nigel took a phone call. She must have felt his gaze on her because she glanced over at him. He grinned and a shy smile graced her lovely lips before she quickly looked away. What were the chances he’d get to see her twice in one day? And if he thought she was fine back at her office, tonight she was absolutely stunning. He could tell by the number of men who had stopped at the sisters’ table that apparently he wasn’t the only one who had taken notice. Granted, some of them had stopped to talk with Janna, but Iris, wearing a low-cut dress showing off her long, graceful neck and tempting breasts, was receiving her share of attention. She didn’t come across as a woman who would be caught in a tight-fitting garment, but he’d be damned if she didn’t have the perfect assets to fill it.
“She’s a beauty,” Nigel said, following Nash’s line of vision when Iris stood and walked across the restaurant toward the restrooms. “Do you know her? You’ve been staring at her for the past ten minutes. Why don’t you do what you usually do and go over and ask her out?”
“I would if she wasn’t possibly going to be Tania’s lawyer.”
Nigel’s eyes grew large. “That’s the defense attorney? Hold up. That tall, curvy, celestial being is the one who might be representing Tania?” Nash chuckled at his friend’s facial expression. “Hell, she doesn’t look like any attorney I’ve ever seen.”
“How you gon’ be ogling a woman as married as you are?” Nash tasted the martini that he hadn’t touched. “What would Dawn say?”
Nigel and Dawn were the poster couple for happily ever after. Married for ten years, the two were always stealing kisses, holding hands or sharing naughty looks. At times it was almost nauseating to witness their public displays of affection, but on the other hand, it was nice to see two people so very much in love.
Nigel took a swig of his beer. “I might be married, but I’m not dead. There’s no harm in looking. Besides, the woman is kind of hard to miss. Actually they all are,” he said, referring to Iris and her sisters. “And isn’t that Janna Morgan, the supermodel, at their table?”
“Yep, they’re all sisters. The other one is a doctor.” Nash looked over again just as Iris returned to the table. He still couldn’t get over how good she looked in the skintight red dress. She definitely didn’t look like a defense attorney tonight.
Nash turned his attention back to Nigel. “So when is this group going to perform? Today has been a crazy long day and this mess with Tania has made it even longer.”
“Well, I hate to break it to you, but I think your day is about to get worse. Don’t look now, but your ex, the not-so-lovely Eve Vanlough, just walked in.”
Nash glanced over his shoulder and groaned. If he didn’t know any better, he would think she was following him. They broke up over two months ago and lately Eve surfaced at the most inopportune times, claiming her sudden appearances were a coincidence. He didn’t believe in coincidences. It was time to nip this nonsense in the bud once and for all.
Eve stopped at their table. “Well, funny meeting you—”
“Cut the crap,” Nash growled and stood. He gently grabbed her by the elbow, pulled her out of the main dining room and didn’t stop until they were in the atrium. “I don’t know what the hell you’re up to, but I suggest you back off. If I go to one more place and you show up, I’m getting a restraining order.”
“Oh, Nash, sweetie, aren’t you being overly dramatic?” she said in that whiny tone that always grated on his nerves. She moved in closer, straightening his tie before running her hands down his chest. “I can’t help that we like the same restaurants. I’m here meeting a friend and I just happened to see you and your shadow in there.” She nodded toward the table where Nash had left Nigel. “I figured the least I could do is go over and say hello. Besides, I’ve missed you.”
He grabbed hold of both of her hands and backed her into the corner, away from the entrance. “Eve, when are you going to stop playing these games? This is one of many reasons why we’re not together. You don’t know when to back off.”
Her heavily made-up face screwed up in anger and she jerked out of his grasp. “If you break up with me, you’re going to be sorry!”
“Excuse me?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m the last person you want to threaten, and for the record, we broke up months ago. Apparently you haven’t grasped that fact yet.”
She glared at him as if her little five-foot-six self could intimidate him. That lasted a whole five seconds before she changed her tune.
“I’m sorry.” She pulled a tissue out of her purse and dabbed at her invisible tears. “This breakup has been really hard on me. I thought we had something special, that we would one day get married.”
Nash relaxed his shoulders and sighed. She had to know her tears no longer affected him, but maybe if he tried a different approach she’d finally get the message.
“Listen, Eve, I didn’t mean to hurt you, but you knew going in that I wasn’t interested in anything serious. I was up-front with you from the beginning. I’m not looking to get married to you or anyone else.”
Thanks to his college sweetheart, Nash had promised himself years ago that he would never allow a woman full access to his heart again. He and Audrey had dated their first year at UCLA, and talked about getting married upon graduation. During their last year of college, Audrey dumped him for the school’s star quarterback, whose family came from old money. She told Nash she wanted to marry rich, instead of marrying someone who had the potential of being rich.
He would never forget how she took his love and his heart and stomped the hell out of them. The only thing good that came out of the experience was that it spurred him to work his butt off to become a successful multimillionaire.
“Nash, honey, I know you said you weren’t interested in marriage, but I thought...”
He placed his hand against Eve’s cheek, suddenly feeling sorry for her. She leaned into his touch, shutting her eyes and then reopening them as she met his gaze.
“I’m sorry, Eve. I hate things turned out the way they did, but I can’t do this anymore.” He dropped his arm and turned to walk back into the restaurant, but flinched when a camera flash blinded him.
“Mr. Dupree...Mr. Dupree...Mr. Playboy Dupree. Is this your latest victim who you’re kicking to the curb?”
Damn. Nash ducked his head, put his arm up to block any additional photos and hurried back into the restaurant. This was the second time in the past couple of weeks that he’d been bombarded by some paparazzo mentioning him being a playboy. Now that he thought about it, Eve had been there then, too.
* * *
Hours later, Nash sat in the office at Platinum Pieces–Midtown, his first Atlanta nightclub. To get his mind off women, he was catching up on paperwork. He sifted through documents and reviewed repor
t after report from his business managers, hoping to make a dent in the pile.
“Okay, boss, all the patrons are out and everything is locked up,” the club’s manager said from the doorway. “We’re going to head out. You coming?”
Nash glanced at his watch, noting the late hour, and then glanced at the short stack of file folders on his desk. “Nah, I have about an hour of work left. You guys go ahead and I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”
His manager hesitated. Tall and burly, he looked more like a wrestler than a club manager. “I can stick around for another hour. Just holler when you’re ready to leave.”
Since one of the female servers had been mugged late one night when leaving the club, Nash had instituted a policy: no one, regardless of gender or age, left the building alone after closing time. While spending most of his days and evenings at the new location, he’d temporarily forgotten the rule. Nash wasn’t too concerned about his safety. The club, located in Midtown Atlanta, had good exterior lighting. Growing up in Compton, California, he had learned at an early age how to take care of himself, but he didn’t want to be the one to start breaking rules.
“Actually, give me fifteen minutes to wrap things up.”
Nash should have been done with his paperwork hours ago, but his mind kept drifting to Tania—and Iris. This couldn’t have been a worse time for Tania to get into trouble, not that there ever was a good time. Nash was swamped with getting the new club and restaurant open, and the last thing he needed was to be worrying about her at juvenile detention. And then there was her lawyer. Iris. Even her name was sexy. How was a man to concentrate when visions of her took up so much space in his mind?
Always a sucker for a beautiful woman, he couldn’t help but wonder about the alluring defense attorney. Meeting her earlier at her office and then seeing her again at the restaurant was like experiencing two different women. One minute he was dealing with a reserved attorney and the next, a voluptuous babe.
That’s how Nash envisioned the lovely Iris Sinclair—a stuffy professional by day, fighting for her young clients, and a sex goddess at night, taming her man with her lasso of truth before wearing his ass out. Oh, yeah. Nash grinned at the thought. He leaned back in his seat, swiveling his chair back and forth, enjoying the mental visual until his cell phone rang.
Legal Seduction Page 3
