Simply Irresistible

by Deborah Cooke

  Ty glanced up at the excitement in Jade’s voice.

  “Where were you this week?”

  “I had appointments,” a woman said and Ty’s eyes widened in recognition of her voice.

  Amy?

  “Well, hand over the rest. I need to know how it ends.”

  Ty ducked down to consider a book on a lower shelf and shamelessly eavesdropped. Amy was writing an erotic romance?

  He wasn’t sure whether to be shocked or thrilled.

  Titillated. He was definitely titillated.

  And relieved.

  “It’s not done yet,” Amy said. “I still have to write the dark moment and the big finish…”

  “And here you are talking to me when you could be writing!” Jade complained. “Go finish the book.”

  “You’re sure it’s good?”

  “Yes! Lothair is so hot and damaged and violent, but Argenta brings out the tenderness in him.” Jade sighed. “You can see right away that no matter what he does to her, he isn’t going to break her, and that she’s the only one who really understands him.”

  “Do you believe she can heal him?”

  “I know she can! Now write it already. I want to know what happens when he has her tied down in his tower room.”

  Ty leaned back against the end cap as relief surged through him. Matteo was research. Amy was writing an erotic romance, so she was doing research at F5. He was more reassured than he could have believed possible.

  But why should he be relieved? His reaction lasted only seconds. She had a perfect right to have fantasies and explore them, just as she’d insisted to him on Sunday. Whether she wrote about them or not was immaterial. In fact, now that he’d explored some of them with her, he was more than ready to investigate more. There was a lot to be said for the safe investigation of fantasies.

  But he was still relieved. Ty smiled that his relief was because Amy was doing exactly what he would have done.

  Research.

  Which was just more evidence that they were right for each other.

  Ty looked around the end of the shelf but Amy was leaving, carrying a large envelope that had to contain her book manuscript.

  Would she confide in him? She’d said she had a plan for a new job. Was this it?

  Would she let him help with her research?

  Maybe he didn’t need a new book so badly, after all. Ty grabbed one blindly off the shelf and paid for it, then headed to the food court in the hopes of lunch with Amy.

  * * *

  It had to be her guilty conscience, but Amy could have sworn that Ty knew what she’d done with Matteo. There was a knowing gleam in his eye when he sauntered into the food court, so unpredictably late that she halfway thought he’d been at the bookstore, too.

  But she would have seen him, surely.

  He dropped a paperback on the table, its spine uncracked.

  Had he been in the bookstore? The possibility of him knowing about her book was almost as worrisome as him learning about Matteo.

  “New book?” she asked, hearing a strain in her own voice.

  “Yeah, I picked it up last night but haven’t started yet.” He eyed the large envelope containing her book manuscript. “You?”

  Amy rummaged in her bag and pulled out the first book she grabbed. It didn’t have a cover on it.

  “I thought you finished that one.”

  “Reading it again,” she said. “It was that good.”

  “But not covering it up. Interesting.”

  Amy had nothing to say to that. She felt herself blush, though, because she’d been caught and she had a feeling he knew it.

  Ty sat down opposite her instead of in the spot diagonally across from her. He unwrapped his sandwich, then picked up his own book. He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. Amy looked down. He’d never done that before and it kind of barricaded her into her spot.

  It looked possessive to her in a way that Ty usually wasn’t.

  She looked up to find him watching her, but he glanced immediately down at his book.

  What did he know?

  “I have a theory for you,” he said lightly. “A quote from Oscar Wilde.”

  “Another one.” Amy smiled at his nod.

  “‘Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.’” Ty arched a brow. “Maybe that’s what those books are about.”

  Amy propped her chin on her hand to consider this. “Maybe. But maybe not the kind of power you think.”

  “What kind of power am I thinking about?”

  “Physical power. Control.”

  “Not emotional power? Control over the relationship and its direction.”

  “I’m thinking of the power of a woman’s desires and fantasies. Taking control of those and exploring them, regardless of what other people might think.”

  “It could be the same thing.”

  “Not to some people. For some people, sex happens a certain way, by the man’s choice, because that keeps women in their place.” Amy made curly quotes with her fingers around the last three words.

  Ty shook a finger at her. “Freud said that the largest sexual organ was the mind.”

  Amy smiled. “I like that. I think it’s true. Fantasy and desire are more potent than sensation and what goes where.”

  “And both together make for better sex, as well as greater intimacy.” He nodded. “I like it.”

  “Me, too,” Amy said and they shared one of those smiles that could launch an inferno. “I’ve hardly seen you this week,” she said then, and he looked down at his lunch.

  “Well, you’ll have a big break from me next week. I’m going to Tokyo on Monday.”

  Amy’s heart sank. “Japan?”

  Ty nodded easily. “We meet with other bankers in other markets periodically. The senior partner, Mr. Fleming, is cutting back on his traveling this year, so has been handing trips off to me.”

  “Beijing in February,” Amy said, remembering how he’d met Giselle.

  Ty nodded. “Right. Prague in April, Tokyo this month, then Paris and London in October.”

  “Glamorous life,” Amy said, not wanting to ask about their fake date for Brittany’s wedding. The last thing she wanted was to sound like a nag.

  “It has its perks,” Ty said, then leaned across the table. “I’ll be back for Brittany’s rehearsal dinner on Friday night.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I promised and I’ll be here,” Ty said, interrupting her with resolve. He met her gaze steadily. “I might be jet-lagged and a little wrinkled, but I’ll be here.”

  Amy smiled at the notion of Ty being disheveled. “Okay. Thanks.”

  “Look,” he said, leaning across the table. “You have my number but give me yours so I can call you when I land on Friday. I can pick you up here and we’ll drive out to New Jersey together.”

  “Okay, but I should give you the address for the church, too,” Amy said. “Just in case, you’re running late.”

  “Sounds good. And you still have to walk me through your family tree.”

  “Right,” Amy said. “Well, there’s my cousin, obviously…”

  “No, no, no,” Ty said. “My family tree deserved a dinner and so does yours. Tomorrow night? We can go to the same place or somewhere different. Your choice.”

  “You should let me treat.”

  “No way.”

  “That’s not part of the deal.”

  “Sure it is.” He smiled, looking unrepentant and a little bit wicked. Resolute. Amy’s heart skipped a beat, even though she knew that Ty could never be wicked, much less dangerous. He might be a fake rake, at worst, an apparent rogue with a heart of gold. Yes, that was it. “Six?”

  “I’m going to cook for you one of these days.”

  “Is that a threat or a promise?”

  “A promise. I’m a very good cook. Mama taught me.”

  Ty smiled. “Then I’ll definitely be taking you up on that.” He glanced at his watch a
nd his eyes widened. “I’ve got an appointment. See you tomorrow?”

  * * *

  Later that afternoon, Amy realized she’d left her favorite earrings at F5, in the private room. It said something for how distracted she’d been about Matteo and the inspiration he’d provided that she hadn’t thought of them immediately.

  She stopped at F5 on the way home, but they weren’t in the lost and found. The girl on the desk took her name and number and said she’d have the room checked. She promised to call if they turned up.

  Amy tried not to think about losing them forever.

  They’d been her mom’s.

  Instead, she went home and wrote. She wrote and wrote and wrote. The story was really coming together and she was motivated by Jade’s praise. She just wanted to get it all down, while it was perfect in her thoughts.

  It was after nine when Amy’s phone rang. She retrieved it from her purse, but didn’t recognize the number. She answered anyway.

  “Hello, Angel,” Matteo growled and she smiled with pleasure. “I have a phone now, just for you.”

  Amy frowned, wondering whether she’d misunderstood him. She couldn’t be the only one who felt the power of the attraction between them.

  Could she?

  Did he have other women who requested private sessions?

  The idea bothered Amy.

  A lot.

  He gave her the number. “Call anytime, Angel. I will always talk to you.”

  She copied down the number. “I forgot my earrings last night, Matteo. Did you see them?”

  “I have them, Angel,” he said and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Should I leave them at the desk for you?”

  “Why don’t you keep them until we see each other next?” she dared to suggest.

  Matteo didn’t answer for a moment, as if he’d been surprised. “I did not think there would be a next time, Angel.”

  “Of course, there will be,” Amy had time to say before she heard a phone ring in the background.

  “Calling late is better, Angel. I will dream of you,” Matteo vowed, then was gone.

  Amy programmed his number into her phone, thinking about what he’d said—and hadn’t said. She had a bad feeling.

  Just how many angels did Matteo have?

  * * *

  Amy was up late enough that it seemed she’d just put her head on the pillow when the alarm rang. She could hear the rain and wanted to just burrow beneath the covers and stay in bed.

  Preferably with someone else.

  She forced herself out of bed and headed off to work. To her surprise, the morning was awesome. Mrs. Murphy offered her a small raise and Red called with good news.

  The end of the buckets in the attic was in sight.

  Amy’s heart gave that little skip when she came down for lunch and saw Ty waiting for her. Would she ever get used to seeing him there?

  He glanced up and smiled. She got her Friday coffee, liking how he put his book aside and rose to his feet when she approached the table.

  A perfect gentleman, every time.

  “Good news and bad news,” Amy said by way of greeting. She sat down and Ty did the same.

  “Good news first, if I have a choice,” he said. “I’ll have time to brace myself for the bad.”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “Phew.” He wiped a hand over his brow and she laughed at him.

  “I heard from Red this morning,” she confided.

  He glanced up, his eyes bright. “And?”

  “He’s arranged a line of credit. It’s not huge but I think it’s enough for the roof, which is really all I wanted.”

  “That is good news. Congratulations.” He toasted her with his bottle of water, and Amy lifted her steaming cup of coffee. “Dinner will be celebratory, then. We have to go to my favorite place again.”

  “That’s the bad news,” Amy said. “I can’t go for dinner.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I want to have a party, and I’m going to have to start cooking tonight.”

  Ty sat back to study her. “Am I invited?” he asked with a smile.

  “Yes! That’s why it’s not such bad news.”

  “Here I thought I was being punished for something.”

  “You told me you thought that stuff was too complicated,” Amy teased and he gave her a simmering look. She had a sudden thought. “I hope you didn’t make sure this worked out with Red’s bank.”

  “No.” Ty shook his head and held up one hand. “Scout’s honor. I just gave you his card and that’s it. Whatever was accomplished, you did it yourself. You and I made a deal.”

  When he looked at her so intently, Amy believed him.

  “What about this party?”

  “Well, I was thinking of having Derek look at the roof this weekend.”

  “Good idea. He won’t be working with the holiday. The weather is supposed to be good, too.”

  “And since Paige is going to want to come, maybe you would, too.”

  Ty smiled. “To defend you against the curiosity of the princess.”

  “My mom used to have a yard party every year on Memorial Day. It was wonderful, kind of the launch to summer each year. She asked friends and neighbors, and we always had such a good time.”

  “And it’s a tradition that has lapsed,” Ty guessed.

  “Until now,” Amy said. “I want to do it again this weekend, but with you going to Japan, it’ll have to be Sunday. Do you think that’s too short notice?”

  Ty chuckled. “You could call Paige right now and she’d be tapping her toe on your porch when you got home, no matter what else she was doing when the phone rang.”

  Amy laughed. “Will you come?”

  “Absolutely. Will you have enough time?”

  “I’ll shop tonight and have a full day in the kitchen tomorrow. I have lists already, and it’ll be a lot of work, but I’m excited. The house hasn’t seen a party for a long time.” She looked up to find Ty watching her warmly.

  “You don’t have to cook.”

  “Actually, I do.”

  “Need some help?”

  “No, thank you. I might get weepy, going through my mom’s cookbooks. She always wrote little notes in them. Probably better if it’s just Fitzwilliam and me.”

  Ty gave her a considering look, then nodded. “All right. What can I bring?”

  “Oh, nothing…”

  “What about the wine?” Ty lifted a finger when she would have argued. “They’ll see it as a couple thing, as us inviting them, so you have to let me help, either with the cooking or with the set-up or with the supplies.” He arched a brow. “Or with everything.”

  “Can you cook?”

  “I follow directions well…”

  “You do not!”

  He chuckled. “I do some basic cooking.”

  Amy smiled and leaned over the table. “I’ll be making pasta.”

  “From scratch?”

  “It’s the only way.”

  “Now I’m impressed. Making pasta is way out of my league, though.”

  “Once you’ve had it this way, you’ll never be happy with the dried stuff,” Amy said.

  “No, I have a feeling there’s no going back,” Ty murmured and she glanced up at him. His eyes were twinkling and she had the definite sense he wasn’t talking about food. “You have a preference for the wine?”

  “There’s a red table wine that my parents liked…”

  * * *

  Ty enjoyed watching Amy as she talked. She was more animated than when he’d first met her and he liked to think he’d played a part in that. She trusted him, and she was becoming more confident in herself.

  And today, triumphant in getting the financing she needed and planning a party, she was glowing. Ty was captivated.

  “You never quite get around to telling me about your family. Is your cousin that scary?” he teased, wondering if there was something more serious at root.

  “She has got a Bridezilla th
ing going on.”

  “Ouch.”

  Amy wrinkled her nose and put down her sandwich. “The thing is that my parents were estranged from my dad’s family all my life.”

  “Because your dad married your mom.”

  “Not just that. I guess my dad didn’t follow his parents’ plan for him. My grandfather was an electrician and he started a business that he wanted to pass down. It’s still pretty successful. They do work for the trade, but also have a consumer side.”

  “That’s where your aunt works?”

  “Yes, she runs the lighting stores. My cousin took some interior design classes, then started to work for Aunt Natalie a few years ago.”

  “And your dad?”

  “He was the only son, and the oldest, but he didn’t want to be an electrician or take over the business. He went to college and became a high school English teacher. He wrote poetry.”

  “Ah, a free spirit.”

  “In a way, he was.” She smiled with obvious affection. “He always said that people should follow their dreams and make themselves happy first.”

  “Good advice,” Ty said, glad that Amy was writing her book. “Are you doing that?” he asked gently.

  “I wasn’t,” she admitted. “But I am now.” She hesitated, adorably uncertain. “I didn’t tell you before,” she admitted in a rush. “But I’m writing a book.”

  “Really?” Ty was ridiculously pleased that she’d confided in him. “Should I ask what genre?”

  Amy laughed. “You can guess.”

  “You suggested a different ending for that one book.”

  “And Jade practically dared me to write it. I decided to write another story, though, one that’s all my own idea. She’s reading it as I go.”

  “Going well?”

  “She likes it so far.” She bit her lip. “Would you read it when it’s done?”

  Ty was jubilant that she’d trust him with her book. “I’m not as familiar with the genre as Jade.”

  “But you understand stories and books. You can tell me if the structure is good, and the pacing.” She sighed. “I would ask my dad to do that if he was here.”

  “Even in this genre?”

  Amy smiled. “When my dad caught me reading Anaïs Nin, he told me to be sure I read Henry Miller, too. He showed me where to find Tropic of Cancer in his library.”