by Sarina Bowen
Her tongue tapped against his, playing. Testing. And then she sighed and the nervous tension that had been building slipped away. She was just a woman and he was just a man. Sharing a first kiss.
He was in so much trouble.
* * *
Nina tried desperately to control her breathing. She chanted as her yoga instructor taught. I am in control. I am centered. I am calm.
Her pounding pulse screamed she was a liar. She was no more in control of this kiss, of her reaction to a man she shouldn’t have a reaction to, than she was in control of the earth continuing its orbit around the sun.
God, but it felt so good to be out of control.
Two seconds ago she’d been about to collapse from nerves. Not about the scheme or the prospect of more photographers but at the prospect of being alone with him. Falling more completely under his spell. Now she felt ten feet tall. She nipped at Chase’s full lower lip and smiled at the low growl he released at the contact. His hands spanned her waist and his thumbs played over her belly button, rubbing the lace against her skin.
His hands pushed higher, flirting with the undersides of her breasts. She sighed against his mouth. She wanted more.
More than a kiss in the shadows of this lovely place. More than his mouth on hers.
And that knowledge made her pull back. She put a little space between them. Chase leaned his forehead against hers. At least they were both breathing heavily. It wasn’t just her reaction.
It was their reaction.
A reaction that shouldn’t be happening at all. He was a client.
Aunt Molly’s first rule of business was simple: Never Mix Pleasure with Business.
Nina swallowed. She had to keep this purely business.
Didn’t she?
He didn’t want her as his girlfriend. As his anything, really. She wanted out of the spotlight, her business back on track. That meant she should only want him as a means to get the tabloids off her back.
Only she didn’t.
From the second he walked through her front door through that ridiculous gum-laced conversation at his house, she wanted him. Not as a client.
Just as Chase.
She saw strength and determination under the sheen of celebrity, underlined by the way he’d purchased his first car. Built his career.
“Ready to make our entrance?”
There was more to that question than the words implied.
Was she ready for this?
Who was she kidding? She was halfway over the edge already. Nina took his proffered hand and started toward the door.
Inside the restaurant was bathed in light from the setting sun. Floor-to-ceiling windows opened the inside to the sea, as if there was nothing between the diners and the water but a few planks of wood and glass. She supposed there wasn’t. Several couples were scattered around the restaurant floor but no one noticed as the hostess led Nina and Chase to their table at the back of the restaurant.
A waitress, with the same pulled back hair and outfit as the hostess, trailed. She rattled off the specials for the night and offered Chase the wine list. He paired grilled swordfish and spicy tomato salsa with chardonnay as Nina drank in the last of the sun’s rays. The hostess lit tiny table sconces to create little pools of light. Maybe he wouldn’t be as attractive in the darkness.
So totally wrong. The flickering candle gave Chase’s five o’clock shadow a dangerous hue and at the same time lit those crisp blue eyes. It had to be a trick of the dim lighting. Or her hormones.
“How did you find this place?” Nina asked. Conversation was what they needed. Innocuous conversation to turn down the hormones that silly kiss had turned up.
Chase shook his head. “Complete accident. I was taking a drive up the coast, got hungry and this was the only place open.”
Somehow she doubted it was as simple as that but she didn’t say so. “Serendipity then.” Nina said.
“Something like that,” said Chase. The hostess returned with their wine glasses, offering Chase a sample. He sniffed and tasted. “Perfect.” He motioned for her to pour and then waited until they were alone once more. “So I looked you up on Google.”
Great, he’s read the headlines in five different languages.
“Beverly Hills, private schools. Incredibly successful family business. No scandals, although there was a blurb or two about you and that reality show real estate agent.”
“Randy. Yeah, my one and only brush with fame.”
“So there is a past to the incredibly private Nina Wright.”
She chuckled at his teasing tone. “Not really. Before Randy I was the wallflower and once I realized he was using me to get a better job I was happy to go back to the wall.” He raised his brows, clearly not believing her. Nina shrugged and hoped like hell the move was nonchalant. “In my family we work. The rewards are slightly more extravagant than a typical Los Angeles County kid, but the BMW my father wrapped in a bow for my sweet sixteen would’ve been given to the gardeners if I gave in to diva behavior.”
“But you’re an adult now. Why not have your fun with the papers and build a little celebrity for the matchmaking thing?”
“Because I’m damn good at my job, and I don’t want to be the rent-a-date supplier for musicians or actors or models, present company aside. I want to deal with real people and real problems and I could ask the same thing of you. Why not have your fun showing the world how little the headlines matter? You could be on some ultra-photographable beach right now getting cozy with a new model instead of having dinner out of the spotlight with me.”
“Maybe I’m holding out for one more kiss.”
Nina blushed and a lightning strike of lust lit her belly. She squeezed her thighs together, even though he wasn’t touching her. Chase was relaxed on his side of the table, rolling the wine glass through his fingers while his other arm lay casually across the chair arm.
“I’m not—think—that’s… Never mind.” She emptied her wineglass and poured another.
“My thoughts exactly. Since you stepped out of the limo last night I’ve wanted to kiss you.” Chase’s gaze met hers. Direct. Questioning. Hot. “The first time around could have been a fluke. Don’t get me wrong because it was a damned fine kiss, but nerves do funny things to chemistry. A little more wine, some good food and the nerves will have died down.”
Nina forced herself to sit back. Relax against the chair. She folded her hands in her lap and pressed the nails of her thumbs into the soft skin of her palms. “I think we can arguably say that the kiss was nerves and just move on, don’t you?”
“I think the theory should be tested.”
“But too much intimacy would give Jillian the wrong idea, wouldn’t it?”
The waitress delivered their meals and Nina dug in with gusto. The zing of salsa played against the smoothness of the swordfish.
“What if I told you, twenty-four hours after our first fake date, that getting Jillian back was never really on my mind?”
The food went cold in her mouth, the swordfish turning to rubber and the salsa burning her tongue. Nina concentrated on swallowing, eyes closed. When she opened them, Chase was watching and the look in his eyes was anything but friendly. Wanting, but not friendly. Not even a little bit. Her tummy did a little flop-roll and her mouth went dry.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
“Aren’t you going to answer my question?”
“About Jillian?” He nodded. “I, ah, don’t know what to say about that. You technically hired me to get the tabloids off your back, but you implied you wanted Jillian back, too. That’s a fast switch.”
“Yeah.” The word was rough, as if it had to fight to leave his throat. “I’m just as surprised about that as you.” He reached for his fork. Nina swallowed, captivated by the attention in his expression.
“The food is getting cold,” she whispered.
They ate and Nina tried to ignore his hand on the table. He could move a half an inch and touch her again. O
r she could suck it up and make a move on him. Nina swallowed and pushed her hands back into her lap. Finally she said, “Chemistry is only a little part of the matchmaking equation. There is also compatibility. Shared interests. Similar goals.”
“And you think we only have chemistry,” he said. She nodded and he continued. “I’d say our goal of avoiding more headlines and to be out of the scandal spotlight gel nicely as a starting place. As for interests, your Corvette and mine may be separated by about 40 years but either would make a protective father bring out his shotgun, so there’s that.”
“That is superficial.”
“That is beside the point. If we were on a real first date, what would we know about one another? It all begins with chemistry and that kiss had ‘chemistry’ stamped all over it.”
Nina finished the last bite and then swirled her wine in the glass. The kiss had trouble stamped all over it, in very large, very neon letters. But saying that would only goad him more. “We’ll see.”
Chase waggled his eyebrows. “Now that sounds promising.” He signaled for the check and all too soon he was parking the car outside her apartment building.
“So, tomorrow.”
Right—the gala. The night she was supposed to make his ex jealous only he didn’t seem to want that any more. So was her function simply to make headlines about a new relationship? Was his to draw the spotlight off her business and into more personal matters?
“You said it was a fundraiser, but are we talking Emmys formal? Or glamtastic?”
He shrugged. Typical male. “I don’t know. Off the rack but not bargain basement?” He paused. “I could pick you up around five.”
Nina’s sense of self-preservation screamed at her to say no. To stop the madness now before she was even deeper in Chase’s world. She didn’t want celebrity. Never had. When her private-school friends were plotting ways to hit the gossip pages, she was quietly studying and planning for her future. She’d lost that focus for a second and had her heart torn to shreds by a reality star. She couldn’t afford another heartbreak, not when her business was on the brink of failure.
To fix Wright Attraction she had to court celebrity for a little while. But she also had to keep her head because while she had chemistry with Chase he wasn’t the kind of guy who would like her quiet life out of the spotlight.
“I’ll meet you there.”
Chapter Five
Chase looked at his watch for the fifteenth time. The publicist, a little man in a gray suit with two clipboards, a Bluetooth in his ear and a nasty habit of snapping his gum, gave Chase the evil eye again. He couldn’t hold the man off for much longer.
Nina was late.
It was his own damn fault for agreeing that they would meet outside the event rather than driving together.
Another limo pulled past. He could sit here feeling sorry for himself or he could put on a smile and deflect any barbs thrown his way. This was his event, damn it. His and Nate’s. They’d started the charity after their first gold album. The fundraiser was important, his pride wasn’t.
The publicist knocked on his window. “Two minutes or you’ve lost your spot.”
Chase glanced at his watch one more time. Less than twenty minutes until the event began. He exited the limo and rolled his shoulders in his casual jacket.
And there she was. A few strands of black hair fell against her neck, but most of the thick mass was captured in a loose braid down her back. Red satin, a perfect match to the carpet, fell in waves from the straps at her shoulders down past her ankles. Hugging all the most important bits as it fell. Chase’s abs tightened and he forgot to breathe for a second. Maybe a full minute. Though completely covered, the dress transformed Nina from beautiful woman to temptress.
If not for the white knuckles clutching the small gold bag and the panicked expression in her eyes, she would look like any of the other celebs out for the evening.
Chase grinned at her and took her hand. Clammy. The screams and calls from fans faded into the background as he realized her nerves on their first date were nothing compared to the full-on panic gripping her now.
“You okay?”
“As okay as I can be with a bunch of people I don’t know shouting at me. You?”
Good. Her expression was sheer panic but her voice was determination. They would need that for the next couple of minutes. He shrugged at the question, sensing that she needed confidence more than sympathy at this moment. “Walk in the park. Day at the beach. Choose your own cliché.”
“Walking the plank?” She managed a chuckle but there was a freaked-out wispiness to the sound.
Chase put his hand at the small of her back, feeling the smooth silk of her skin. He couldn’t help a single glance at her backside. Naked. As conservative as the dress was from the front, it was dangerous from the back. The two shoulder straps plunged down, down, down until he could see a tiny indentation just above her rear, showing off the graceful curve of her spine and hinting at what lay beneath. He swallowed.
“If it helps, from the moment they catch a glimpse of this dress, their voices will seize and you’ll just have to look pretty and twirl.”
“So, a twirl down the plank?” This time the chuckle was stronger. Nina rubbed her palms together. She straightened her shoulders and started for the carpet. At a fast march.
Chase squeezed her hand, slowing her approach. “Okay, Bruiser, we don’t want petrified because they’ll eat you alive, but the two of us do need to look, ah, happy to be seen together. And that means walking the carpet, not attacking it like a broken field runner going for a touchdown on Sunday.”
The publicist signaled him. He pressed his palm flat against the small of Nina’s back, ignoring the little jolt of pleasure at the contact. Nina plastered a wooden smile on her face as the first flashbulbs ignited. She squinted against the glare.
A low rustle went through the crowd. Chase heard her name being yelled between photographers, along with the words “madam” and “Wright Attraction.” The first attack volley lobbed across the aluminum fence separating them from the paparazzi.
“What are you doing with the Hollywood Madam, Chase?”
“Nina, how much is he paying you?” came a second insult. Nina’s hand reached for his and she looked ready to run.
Chase squeezed her fist, willing her not to freak out just yet. Then, placing his hand at her back, he urged her to take another step down the carpet. He leaned in. She smelled like fresh-cut lilac and his eyes closed, taking her in. A shiver swept through her body and he remembered why they were there—and that the photographers were attempting to crucify Nina.
“Their mothers didn’t love them.” His words were whispered but it was enough. Nina shifted her weight and leaned into him, giving the photogs what Chase hoped was a great shot.
They continued walking, ignoring the jibes from across the fencing.
Nina’s voice was a whisper in his ear. “They’re spineless jellyfish.”
Chase drew her close against him as they posed, drinking in her scent. Not because it would look good in the papers but for reasons he didn’t care to examine too closely. Nina posed again, showing off the backless dress.
“Ten thousand sperm and these guys were the fastest,” he said, taking her hand in his to continue down the carpet. Nina played along, holding his hand like a lover. Shooting little glances his way. Leaning in with a pithy comment now and then. Catching him staring at her with what he hoped weren’t puppy dog eyes.
Finally they passed from the red carpet into the auditorium. An usher led them to their seats beside the stage.
“About time you got here, MacIntyre.” Nate slapped the back of his head as they reached their seats.
Chase bumped his fist against Nate’s. “Traffic.”
Nate cocked his head, taking in Nina who stood slightly behind Chase, gripping his hand like a lifeline. Test number one: friends who didn’t know what was going on.
“Yeah. Traffic.”
“This is Nina.” Chase drew her forward. “Nate.” It was as much of an introduction as he could manage. Interest, not in Nina but in Chase having a date, lit Nate’s eyes and he cocked an eyebrow.
The lights dimmed, signaling five minutes until the show began. Thank God, Chase thought.
“So, Lil and I are heading down the coast for dinner after the show. We’ll meet you outside for a formal introduction.” Nate flashed his famous, kill-them-softly rock star grin at Nina, who looked…flustered. He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “Can’t wait to see Lil’s reaction,” then headed backstage.
Chase wanted to say something, anything, to dispel the tension he felt at the way Nina looked at Nate. But he couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t make him sound like a jealous simp.
Nina waited until they were seated with only a tiny armrest between them to whisper in his ear. “You didn’t say anything about dinner with Nate Lansford or your sister.”
“I didn’t know about it until now.” He kept his gaze focused on the stage.
“I can’t lie to your family.”
“We are lying to the entire world, with or without dinner.” It was a reminder to himself as much as to her.
The lights dimmed again, cutting off further conversation. But not before he saw the flash of hurt in Nina’s eyes.
Nate took the stage, welcoming the audience and introducing the first performers, a brother-sister duo competing on the reality show Star Power, which Nate and Chase’s sister, Lily, starred on.
“I’m hoping to sign them after the season,” Chase whispered in Nina’s ear. “I’m sorry about that lying to the world thing. I didn’t mean it. Nate kind of caught me off guard.” Not her apparent attraction to his friend. Definitely not that.
“I didn’t think about the family thing, either. This is a little more complicated that I imagined,” she said. Nina took his hand in the dark, cementing the connection between them. Her touch was soft. Soothing. A juxtaposition because the inch of space separating their thighs was a shooting gallery of heat. And then it was only the two of them. No residual doubt at her reaction to Nate. Nothing but Nina’s hand against his.
