Simply Irresistible

by Deborah Cooke

  Of course, she had.

  “I knew where the first people had moved and I called them, thinking it was a mistake, but they said they didn’t want him anymore.” Amy’s eyes flashed. “They couldn’t even take him to a shelter or a vet, so he could have a new home. He was just left behind. They didn’t even think about him dying there!”

  Ty was intrigued. “So, you kept him?”

  “Well, I took him to the vet and they said he was undernourished but otherwise healthy. They said that adult cats don’t get adopted very often, so I couldn’t take him to the shelter.” She made a face. “They kill them, you know. They have to, because there are just too many cats without homes.”

  Ty knew she was trying to hide her tears. “You had to save him.” She had a soft heart. He liked that she was so giving.

  He had to figure that it was part of the reason she was allowing him another chance.

  “I did, even though he had an attitude problem. He’d glower at me when I was home, but he ate when I left the room. I didn’t even know his name, or how old he was or anything, but I couldn’t exactly call the former owners again.” Her lips tightened. “They weren’t very nice the first time.”

  “Because you were reminding them that they’d been callous.”

  Amy thought about that for a minute. “Maybe. Anyway I had to give him a name, so Fitzwilliam seemed the obvious choice.”

  “Which one? Darcy or Colonel?”

  Her entire face lit with a joy that made Ty feel like a star. “Does it matter?”

  “It’ll tell me everything I need to know,” he said, because it was true.

  Amy’s smile turned mischievous and the sight made Ty’s chest tight. “Then guess.”

  Ty thought for a moment. “‘My disposition could be said to be resentful,’” he quoted. “‘For my good opinion once lost is lost forever.’”

  “You’ve seriously watched it so many times that you have it memorized?”

  “Maybe, but I also took nineteenth-century English literature as a breadth course.”

  “But you’re a money guy.”

  “The cute girls are in English lit classes.”

  She laughed at that. “But now, like Mr. Darcy, he’s warmed up considerably. That’s a nice change after Riordan.”

  “Vanity Fair?”

  She nodded and sighed. “It was the perfect name for him. A reckless gambler, and a handsome rogue. He had charm and good looks, but a conviction that he could beat the odds of crossing the street.”

  “He showed up on your doorstep wounded,” Ty guessed.

  Amy nodded. “And I couldn’t just leave him. The thing was that after the surgery, he wouldn’t stay in the house. He made us crazy with his yowling and his escape acts.”

  “He had to be who he was.”

  “And he’d come crawling home, bashed up in one way or another. He cost us a fortune. I think Dad and I paid for the renovation at the vet’s offices.”

  “But you couldn’t turn him out.”

  She blushed a little. “He was very charming.” She sighed and twisted the container from her sandwich. “But when they found the cancer, it was too advanced. We just kept him comfortable for as long as possible.” She shed a tear, and Ty felt like he should console her in the same instant that he feared it would be inappropriate.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling it was inadequate.

  “Do you have pets?”

  “No. Never have.”

  “You should think about it,” Amy said. “I didn’t plan to have another cat after Riordan, given how much trouble he’d been.” She smiled a little. “But Fitzwilliam charmed me.”

  “‘But I think Mr. Darcy improves on closer acquaintance. In essentials, I believe he is very much as he ever was. I don’t mean to imply that either his mind or manners are changed for the better, rather, my knowing him better, improved my opinion of him.’”

  “Wow.”

  Ty shook a finger at her. “But that’s not what it says in the book, actually.”

  Amy propped her chin on her hand to study him. “I don’t remember. What’s in the book?”

  Ty cleared his throat. “‘When I said that he improved on acquaintance, I did not mean that either his mind or manners were in a state of improvement, but that from knowing him better, his disposition was better understood.’”

  “You are good at this,” Amy said, then met his gaze with a sparkle of challenge in her own. “I should have called him Algie.”

  “‘Anyone who knows me really well knows that when I’m very upset, I refuse everything except food and drink,’” Ty guessed, quoting Oscar Wilde.

  “You must have gotten great marks in that class.”

  “Kyle and I had an incentive.” At her glance, he clarified. “Friend of mine. That’s where we met. We’d both chosen the course for the same reason and were the only two straight guys in the class. We had to stick together, and we had to ace the course.” Ty smiled and continued. “Four sisters means I had an advantage.”

  She laughed. “How many times have you seen Pride and Prejudice?”

  “I’ve lost count. Fifty or sixty. They wore out one DVD set.”

  “So, is it true that a man in possession of a fortune, or at least a decent job, must be in need of a wife?” Amy asked.

  “My mother thinks so,” Ty confessed and she smiled at him in the way that set his blood on fire.

  “I suppose it’s not all bad for a man to be protective.”

  “I suppose it’s not all bad for a woman to have naughty fantasies,” he countered.

  She raised her gaze to his. “Maybe it would be smart, though, to only act them out with a man she trusts completely.”

  “Definitely smarter,” Ty agreed. They stared at each other for a sizzling moment, one that made him hope about possibilities, then Amy unwrapped her sandwich.

  “Do men really look that much?”

  “All the time.”

  “Not just legs?”

  “Nope.” Ty hesitated. “How honest should I be?”

  “Completely. I can take it.”

  “That pink lipstick of yours yesterday was very distracting.”

  “Really?” Amy didn’t look displeased by the revelation, which was good.

  “Absolutely.”

  “What about you, with your hand on my back?” she replied, then rolled her eyes. “And your thumb.”

  “The first time was an accident,” Ty admitted. “But I liked it. Did you?”

  Amy averted her gaze, then looked him square in the eye. “Yes.”

  They stared at each other for another hot moment and Ty’s throat was tight. He was about to make a suggestion when that Mrs. Murphy began to shout at Amy. “Not again,” he muttered.

  “All the time,” Amy replied in an undertone.

  “We’ve got to find you another job.”

  To his surprise, her eyes were dancing. “I think I have an idea.”

  “Tell me.”

  She shook her head. “Not yet.”

  “Don’t you trust me?”

  Her expression turned fierce. “I don’t want you fixing it.”

  “You know me already.”

  Amy grinned.

  “I promise to stand back unless my assistance is specifically requested.”

  “Deal.” She offered her hand and they shook on it.

  Ty wasn’t in a hurry to let her hand go.

  “Amy!” Mrs. Murphy interjected, appearing suddenly beside them. “Mr. Forsythe just called. His flight was canceled because of thunderstorms and he’s stuck in Dallas. You know he has to get to Denver today…” She frowned down at their clasped hands and Ty hoped the gesture gave her something to worry about.

  “I thought it would be better if he changed at O’Hare,” Amy said, already gathering her things.

  “Well, it isn’t up to you, is it?” Mrs. Murphy snapped.

  “Then maybe it can be fixed after Amy has lunch,” Ty suggested more mildly than he felt. �
�I doubt the storms will stop soon.”

  Mrs. Murphy looked him up and down, then spoke to Amy again. “You need to come and do this now. Mr. Forsythe has gone to lunch and expects this to be solved by the time he’s done.”

  He went to lunch and left his travel arrangements to be solved by Amy? Irritation rolled through Ty. It would be much easier for this Forsythe to step up to the desk in Dallas and sort out his own flights.

  Ty opened his mouth to comment but Amy got to her feet. “I have a secret weapon you don’t know about,” she said with a smile and hastily put her lunch back in her tote bag. “I’ll see you later.”

  She was gone before Ty realized he still didn’t have her number.

  * * *

  Amy’s dad would have loved how much Ty knew about nineteenth-century literature, too. Ty might have taken the course for the women, but Amy liked that he retained so much of it.

  And that he watched chick flicks with his sisters. He was such a nice guy.

  It wasn’t quite as sexy as being a dangerous man, but it was still good.

  If he’d let that inner tiger of his out more often, she might have been in serious trouble. Amy supposed she should be grateful for small blessings. This fake date plan would be easier to end if there weren’t any emotional complications.

  She told herself that it was good that Ty wasn’t really her type.

  She wasn’t sure she believed it.

  Once Mr. Forsythe’s travel plans were rearranged, Amy was called into the older woman’s small office. “We might as well get this out in the open,” Mrs. Murphy said. “Are you considering leaving us? Is that why you’re dressed up, and you were lunching with that man?”

  She’d witnessed the handshake and thought it meant a different kind of deal.

  “I really don’t think it’s something I should discuss,” Amy prevaricated.

  “Well, I would have thought that you’d have spoken to us first if you were unhappy.”

  “I’m not unhappy.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

  “But you think you can do better.” Mrs. Murphy exhaled. “I will see if anything can be done to give you a small raise, since Mr. Forsythe depends upon you so much. I trust you will show the courtesy of not accepting another offer before I get back to you on that.”

  “Of course not.”

  The two women eyed each other, and Amy realized her request would only fan the flames. “I do have to leave a little early today, if you remember. I mentioned this morning that I had an appointment…”

  “And I assumed it was a doctor’s appointment, not another interview,” Mrs. Murphy huffed. “I won’t make it easy for you to complain about us here. Go to your appointment, but be sure everything is done before you leave.”

  “Of course.” Amy bit back a smile as she returned to her desk. It would be wonderful to get even a small raise.

  Maybe she would be able to afford that new roof after all.

  * * *

  There was an obvious step Amy had to take, although it made her nervous.

  So, she avoided it.

  She went to her appointment with Red and had to think it went reasonably well. He was dressed as well as Ty, but wasn’t as handsome or as trim. His hair was as red as could be expected, and he wore a gold wedding ring. There were pictures of three red-headed kids on his credenza and a pretty woman with them.

  Red was quick to put her at her ease, and after reviewing the information she’d brought, he had a few suggestions. He wanted to have the house assessed, because he thought its value was probably low. It made sense that if her only asset was worth more, Amy might be able to borrow a little more. Red was positive about her prospects and promised to call her in a few days.

  Bolstered by that, Amy made the plunge. She went to the copy shop and made copies of her book pages. She’d miss the train she usually took, but this had to be done. Amy needed to know whether she was on the right track with her book, and that meant showing it to someone else.

  Someone who understood the genre.

  Jade.

  Even if the prospect terrified her.

  One good thing about running late was that there was little chance of running into Ty at the bookstore.

  To her relief, he wasn’t there.

  On the other hand, she was a little disappointed to have missed out on another glimpse of him.

  Jade waved to her from the horror section and Amy hurried toward her friend. She’d put the copies in an envelope and handed it to Jade before she could reconsider. “I’m doing it,” she said in a rush. “I’m writing a book. Could you read it and tell me if it’s good?”

  Jade’s eyes lit. “No way. Really?” She accepted the envelope with a kind of reverence. “It is evil of you to bring this now when I have to work until nine-thirty tonight.”

  “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Are you kidding? I can’t wait to read it!”

  “You have to be honest,” Amy insisted. “Totally and utterly honest.”

  “Absolutely,” Jade said. “I’ll tell you the truth.” Then she bounced a little. “This is so exciting, Amy!” They hugged quickly, then Amy crossed her fingers and left for her train. When she glanced back, Jade was peeking inside the envelope.

  Amy couldn’t read on the train on the way home. She kept thinking of bits she should have changed, or additions she could have made, or how the book could have been better. It seemed that as soon as it left her hands, she had a million more ideas.

  She reminded herself that it wasn’t published, or even sent to an editor.

  Her book was safe with Jade.

  Even so, Amy made a lot of notes when she got home. So many notes that Fitzwilliam had to remind her about dinner, more than once.

  Then she read the last bit of the book again, reviewing what she’d written. It was the scene where Lothair claimed his prize. It should have been really intense.

  It seemed thin to Amy.

  Lacking in sensory detail.

  It was evidence of her lack of experience. How long had it been since she’d had sex? And she’d never had hot sex like this, let alone sex in a bondage scene.

  She had to come closer than her own experience to improve this part of her book.

  Amy took a deep breath. She retrieved the flyer from F5 and read the bit on the back again. Private sessions available. How much would one be? She had to invest in her research. She had to find the money for it.

  She had to give the book its best shot.

  She pulled out her phone and called F5, hoping that Matteo was available for private instruction.

  * * *

  Ty was heading upstairs from swimming laps, daring to hope that he was making some progress with Amy. She hadn’t gone to the bookstore after work, and he felt cheated of her company. He told himself that he’d see her the next day, but he was restless.

  “No, I think he’s probably gone for the day. Can I take a message?” Damon was on the phone at the desk and Ty waved to him on his way to the elevator. “Wait!” Damon said, then beckoned to Ty. “I see him now, just coming out of the pool.”

  Ty frowned. Who would call him at F5?

  “Matteo!” Damon shouted and Ty understood. “Call for you!”

  But who would call Matteo?

  Only one person.

  Ty crossed the lobby fast and took the phone. “Hello?” he said in his deepest voice, trying to imbue the single word with his Spanish accent.

  “Hello, Matteo,” Amy said, her words falling quickly. “You probably don’t remember me…”

  “Of course, I remember you, Angel,” he said.

  She exhaled and he realized she was nervous. Why was she calling?

  “Oh good, because I see on the flyer that F5 offers private instruction, and I wondered if we could, if you could, I mean, if it was possible…”

  “There are private instruction rooms on the sixth floor,” Ty said smoothly, uncertain whether to be annoyed with her for taking such a chance or thrilled by the pr
ospect of such intimacy with her. She was screwing with his assumptions one more time.

  Damon grinned and turned to answer a question from a staff member.

  Ty folded his arms across his chest, the image of Amy, probably barefoot in her kitchen, making his gut clench. “If you would like a session, Angel, I can indulge you for an hour for fifty dollars.”

  Damon gasped in outrage from behind him and tapped the price list on the counter with an emphatic fingertip. Ty waved him off. Amy wasn’t going anywhere else to get this kind of private instruction from anyone else. He would subsidize it and she’d never know.

  “That’s all?” she demanded. “Oh, well, that’s wonderful, then. Could we book a session?”

  “The week after next…”

  “This week,” she insisted. “Wednesday night?”

  Ty was startled but he tried to hide it. He checked the schedule. “Of course, Angel. Room 612 is available at seven on Wednesday night.”

  “Oh, good. Do you need a credit card to make the reservation?”

  “You are on file here,” Ty said evenly. “It can be paid at the time.”

  Damon spread his hands, shaking his head.

  Ty waved him off again.

  “Oh, good.”

  “Do you have preferences, Angel?”

  “Um. Everything we did before, but in private,” she said hurriedly. “I want to see what it feels like without so many people around.”

  “It will be more intimate,” Ty said, his own body reacting to the prospect. “It will feel riskier.”

  “Good,” she said with a little rush of breath that put fire in his blood. “Good. That’s exactly what I want.”

  Damon shoved a sheet at him and Ty eyed it, then nodded.

  “You should stop in at the club, Angel. They have consent forms and check sheets for private clients, the better to ensure that everyone is satisfied.”

  “Good idea,” she said, her anticipation clear. “I’ll do that at lunch tomorrow.”

  Ty winced that he’d be missing another chance to talk to her.

  On the other hand…

  “Thanks, Matteo. I’ll see you then.”

  “Of course, Angel.” Ty ended the call and stared at the phone for a moment.

  “You know we have fixed rates,” Damon began.

  “And you know you can charge the difference to me,” Ty replied crisply.