by Francis Ray
In his bedroom, he picked up the phone and dialed. “Radcliffe’s, where our priority is your dining pleasure.”
“Ms. Radcliffe, please. Alex Stewart calling.”
“Certainly, Mr. Stewart. Please hold.”
Gladly, he thought.
“Talk quickly, Alex, the restaurant is packed,” Summer Radcliffe told him.
He could just imagine. Radcliffe’s was one of the hottest restaurants in the city. Four years ago Summer had taken the city by storm with the elegant upscale restaurant, which now had a two-month waiting list. “Any chance I can get reservations for tomorrow night? It’s important.”
“Don’t tell me a woman has finally captured the attention of one of the renegades.”
He shifted on the bed. They teased one another, but they didn’t like other people referring to them as the renegades. “You know we’re sensitive about that name.”
“I noticed you didn’t deny the woman is more than a casual date,” she said.
“I didn’t say it was a woman,” he countered.
Summer laughed, a husky, sultry sound that had captured the attention of more than one man when he was with her. She attracted men like a magnet. “But it is, isn’t it? I already know your sister and your other relatives left yesterday.”
“All right, it’s a woman. About the reservations?”
“Since I’m dying to see her, be here at nine.”
“Thanks, Summer, and I know you have flowers on the table, but is it all right if I send over a special bouquet for the table?”
“Now I’m really anxious to see her. Maybe Sin and C. J. will take notice.”
“Your cousin C. J. likes women, but he’s a confirmed bachelor who likes his man-cave bar too much to settle down. Sin is just as footloose with his consulting firm,” Alex said, reminding Summer of what she already knew. “They play hard, but they work harder.”
“You still have their backs,” Summer snorted.
“Just like they have mine,” Alex said, thinking of their backing him to go after Dianne.
“See you tomorrow. Bye.”
“Bye.” Alex hung up and smiled. “Now it begins.”
* * *
Dianne was ready when Alex picked her up at eight. Barely. She had three walk-in closets full of the latest summer D designs, plus several outfits that she’d kept from previous seasons, but she’d had a difficult time finding the right thing to wear.
Sure, she’d had dates before, interviews, but none had left her so nervous. She laughed with the sheer pleasure of having the opportunity.
“Hi,” she said, greeting him in an ivory sand-washed silk oversized safari shirt, slim jeans, and wedge heels.
“Hi,” Alex greeted, his gaze running appreciatively over her. “Ready for breakfast?”
“For breakfast and whatever you have planned,” she said boldly. There was no sense being coy. She wanted it all, and that’s what she was going to get.
For an answer, he pulled her into his arms, kissing her. “That for starters.”
Her breath trembled over her lips. “Well, I like how you think.”
“Come on.” Taking her hand, he led her from the apartment.
Laughing, Dianne eagerly went with him, enjoying just being with Alex, marveling that it was different somehow—or perhaps she was different. The restaurant was a short two blocks away. They were lucky enough to grab a table by the window. She picked up the menu and almost sighed on seeing a picture of waffles covered with strawberries, whipped cream, and pecans.
“You decide yet?” Alex asked.
“Unfortunately,” Dianne said. “Egg white. Tonic water.”
“What are you having?” the waitress asked, her pencil poised over a narrow pad.
“Two egg whites and tonic water,” Alex ordered, giving the waitress his menu.
“You don’t have to have that because I am,” she protested.
Alex plucked the menu from her hand. “It’s probably for the best. We have reservations at Radcliffe’s tonight and there’s not a low-cal dish on the menu.”
She’d heard of the five-star restaurant, but never been there. She braced her folded arms on the table. “The wait time to get reservations is even greater at Radcliffe’s than Le Cirque. Give.”
“Your tonic water?” the server said, then left.
Alex picked up his glass. “The owner, Summer Radcliffe, is a friend as well as a client of mine, and the cousin of one of my best friends, C. J. Callahan.”
“I’ve never stayed in one place long enough to have friends, real friends,” she said a bit wistfully.
“You could always scale back a bit, perhaps stay in New York and design again,” he said casually.
Dianne didn’t like the sickening fear she felt and tried not to show it. Modeling was all she knew. “It’s not so bad, and I haven’t designed anything in years.”
“Your food.”
Dianne was glad for the interruption until she looked down at her plate, then up at Alex. “What time are you picking me up for dinner tonight?”
Alex laughed and picked up his fork. “Maybe it tastes better than it looks.” He took a bite, grimaced, and pushed away his plate. “Eight-thirty. We’ll order appetizers the moment we’re seated.”
Dianne grinned back at him. “As I said, I like how think, counselor.”
“I’m counting on it.”
* * *
Alex was nervous and excited as their cab pulled up in front of Radcliffe’s. Those without reservations were already forming a line outside the restaurant in the hope someone canceled or missed their reservations. He’d owe Summer for this, but she’d probably bean him if he did any more than say thanks.
He paid the driver, then helped Dianne out of the cab. He’d chosen Radcliffe’s for a number of reasons, one being that he wanted their first official date to be a place they would look back on later with happiness. He also wanted Dianne to have a great time, feel as special as she was, meet his friends, and let them become hers. She needed friends. He planned to see that she had the opportunity.
“Come on.” With his arm around her waist, he ushered her under the red awning into the opulent restaurant. Dark paneled walls abounded. The original oil paintings and crystal sconces gave the room an old-world charm. A smiling hostess in a beautiful yellow silk dress greeted them.
“Good evening, Mr. Stewart. Miss. Your table is ready. Please follow me.” Plucking two menus, she threaded her way through the tables. She stopped near the back by a walled fish tank with blue and yellow tropical fish and coral. She reached for Dianne’s chair.
“Thanks. I’ll get it.” Alex pulled out Dianne’s red brocade-upholstered chair, then took his seat and accepted a menu.
“Do you require the sommelier or can I have the pleasure of putting in your drink order?” she asked.
Dianne smiled across the table at Alex. “White wine since I’ve been a good girl.”
Alex grinned back. “Make that two, and crab cakes. We’re sort of hungry.”
The woman smiled. “I’ll send your drinks right over and put in your order. Perry, your waiter, will be here shortly.” The young woman moved away.
Dianne looked at Alex, then around the room. “This place is fabulous. I can see why the long wait.”
“The food is just as good,” Alex said. “Summer’s parents were in the restaurant business, and she learned from them.”
“Your drinks.” The server placed the glasses on the table, then left.
“Are they retired?” Dianne asked, reaching for her glass.
Sadness touched Alex’s face. “They were both killed in an automobile accident when she was eighteen.”
“How tragic for her.” Dianne pulled her hand back and glanced around again. “From what I can see, her parents would be proud.”
“I think they would be as well,” said a sultry voice.
Alex came to his feet. Summer looked as exotically beautiful as usual with her caramel skin, doe-shaped ey
es, and curly black hair that reached to the middle of her slim back. “Dianne Harrington. Summer Radcliffe, owner of Radcliffe’s.”
Dianne warmly extended her hand. “Hi. I’ve heard nothing but praise about your restaurant. I can’t wait to taste the food. Alex says it’s great.”
“Thank you. We strive for nothing less than the best for our customers.” Summer smiled at Alex. “Waiting paid off for you.”
His grin widened. “Don’t I know it.”
“Enjoy Radcliffe’s. If there is anything I or my staff can do to make your dining experience more pleasurable, please let us know,” Summer said, then moved away.
“She’s very nice.” Dianne leaned over the table as Alex retook his seat. “I could kiss you for not going all gaga over her. She’s gorgeous.”
Alex frowned. “I’ve never thought of Summer romantically. She’s just C. J.’s cousin.”
Dianne eased out of her seat, kissed Alex on the cheek, then returned to the chair. “You’re something, counselor.”
“Good evening, I’m your waiter, Perry. Your crab cakes.” He placed the white platter on the table. “Are you ready to order?”
Smiling apologetically, Dianne opened her menu. “Not yet. Sorry.”
“Please give us a few minutes,” Alex said to the waiter.
“I can’t decide,” Dianne said, studying her menu.
“Order some of everything or we could share,” Alex suggested. “I’m thinking a Radcliffe’s Greek salad, the steak and lobster. What caught your eye?”
“Besides you?” She peeked over the menu and grinned at him.
He smiled back. “You already have me.” Her eyes softened. It was liberating not to have to watch what he said to her. “The menu,” he reminded her.
Dianne looked at the oversized, leather-bound menu. “Field green salad and the salmon.”
Alex stared at her. “Remember, no dieting.”
She laughed, a soft sound that made his heart sing. “I love salmon.”
“Salmon it is.” One day, if he were blessed and lucky, she’d say she loved him. He signaled the waiter and placed their order.
Dianne handed the waiter the menu and reached for her glass of wine. Her hand paused as she looked at the lush white roses mixed with gardenias in a square crystal vase. She glanced at the nearest table and the one next to it. Both had white lilies in a lotus blossom vase. Dianne’s gaze went to Alex, then the arrangement on the table.
“You—you remembered after all these years,” she whispered, touching a lush white gardenia petal.
“They used to be your favorite flowers,” he said. “You always said when you grew up you’d have them in your house every day.”
“I did for a while, but I was on the go so much I didn’t get to enjoy them.” She smiled tenderly at him. “Thank you for remembering.”
“I’ve forgotten few things about you.”
Dianne got the warm feeling again. She reached her hand out. He caught it.
“Your salads.”
Releasing her hand, he bowed his head and blessed their food, then asked, “Have you ever played pool?”
Her eyes lit up with interest. “No.”
“We have a monthly pool competition at Callahan’s, C. J.’s bar,” he explained. “It’s this Friday night. I’d like for us to go.”
She picked up her fork. “Will you teach me?”
He leaned over and grinned. “It will be my pleasure.”
She could already tell it would be her pleasure as well. She took a bite of crab cake, chewed, and swallowed. “This is good. You know, I’m made some bad decisions in my life. Looks like I hit one out of the park this time.”
Chapter 6
Dianne’s heart was beating a mile a minute as she stopped at her front door. Alex said they’d take it slow, but maybe he’d changed his mind. They’d had a great time at Radcliffe’s. She pulled her key from her purse.
“Let me get that.”
“Thank you.” Dianne’s voice sounded shaky, a bit breathless.
After opening the door, Alex handed her the key. She realized he wasn’t going to rush her or assume. A bit of her anxiety eased. “Please come in.”
He smiled and stepped past her. Closing the door, she continued to the great room, tossing her clutch on the sofa. “What’s so funny?” she asked, turning to him.
His hands settled on her waist, and he pulled her closer. Her heart went crazy. Her hands automatically settled on his chest. “You’re such a delight.”
She blinked. Of all the things she expected him to say, that had never occurred to her. “I am?”
“You are.” He brushed his lips tenderly across hers as if he couldn’t wait any longer. “I have something to confess.”
Since he was looking at her as if he never wanted to let her go, she didn’t think she should be worried. “Yes?”
“I’ve wanted you for a long time.”
Surprise widened her eyes and made her knees shake. “You—you have?”
“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think I stood a chance, and I didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship,” he told her.
His thoughts had been so much like hers.
“I just thought you should know up front that, if I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t be here.” He pulled her closer still, his arms locked around her. “I’ve dreamed of you in my bed, your hair on my pillow.”
Air became harder to draw in. Heat zipped though her veins.
“I want you in all the ways a man can want a woman and then some.” His mouth took her, branding her as his. The heat, the pleasure enveloped her. Her hands clutched his shirt and just held on as his mouth and hands ravaged her.
His hands cupped her hips, bringing her more fully against the rigid hardness of his desire. She moaned and pressed closer. Her body felt on fire. She wanted to touch his bare skin, wanted him to touch hers. She pulled up his shirt, ran her hands over the corded muscles of his stomach, his chest, and felt him flinch.
Immediately she jerked her hands and body away. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?”
His eyes blazed. “Only when you’re not in my arms.”
She took one step back to him, he took the other. This time she didn’t hesitate to touch, to taste, and neither did he.
She was burning in his arms. He couldn’t get enough of her. She was so warm, so responsive. He wanted more. Picking her up, he placed her on the sofa, following her down. His body pressed against hers was heaven on earth.
More than his next breath he wanted to slide the side zipper on her little black dress down, pull the dress over her head, and feast on her. If he did, he wouldn’t stop. Closing his eyes, he sat up with her in his lap, her head tucked beneath his chin, their breathing off kilter.
“You are a treasure I never allowed myself to believe I’d have,” he murmured.
“Alex.”
She said his name with such need and reverence, he almost pulled her back down on the sofa. “Taking this slow might be a bit harder than I’d imagined.”
“Don’t stop on my account,” she said.
Hearing the teasing in her voice, he laughed, hugging her to him. “You’re something.”
Sitting up, she smiled at him. Her finger brushed across his lower lip. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
He nipped her finger, kissed her on the lips. “I have a conference call in the morning at eight and court at ten or I’d take you to breakfast and lunch where we’d eat real food. What are you doing tomorrow?”
She made a face. “Going to the spa for a body wrap.”
“I could do that for you.”
She burst out laughing, then leaned against him. “You can’t imagine how wonderful it is not to have to watch what I say to you. You don’t mind that I have to lose a few pounds.”
“You’re perfect.”
If only. “Just hearing you say that helps.”
The frown on his face didn’t clear. “Who are you going to believ
e? Some jerk or me?”
Because she realized he’d never understand, because he was angry on her behalf, she palmed his face. “You. Always.”
He kissed her long and hot and slow. She forgot about her weight and just enjoyed.
* * *
The next morning, humming softly to herself, Dianne checked her makeup in the bathroom mirror, then went to her bedroom for her handbag. She was halfway out of the door when she remembered to check the money in her wallet. She’d learned through the years to always keep extra cash in her billfold. That hadn’t been possible lately.
Her lips pressed together in annoyance. Ninety-three dollars. Last month’s paycheck had been a week late getting to her bank. This time it was ten days and counting. She’d checked her bank account online and it had less than two hundred dollars.
She bit her lower lip. Her clothes might be free, but she had to purchase the undergarments, the designer handbags, shoes, and accessories that went with them. She frowned at the wallet in her hand. She’d had it for two years but it cost almost a thousand dollars, the matching handbag four times that amount. The leopard-print slides on her feet were on sale at five hundred dollars. The eighteen-karat earrings and gold chain around her neck another three thousand.
She picked up the phone on the bed chest and dialed Harrington’s New York headquarters. The phone was answered on the second ring.
“House of Harrington.”
“Dianne Harrington. Please connect me with Mr. Boswell.”
“Yes, Ms. Harrington.”
Dianne tossed her wallet toward her handbag. She needed her money. The new CEO was behind this. She just knew it.
There’d been no problems with her paycheck until his appointment. When she’d asked the head of payroll, she’d been directed to his office. His secretary had said it was a payroll error. Not likely since it had never happened before. Her check was in her bank in less than twenty-four hours after the phone call. He clearly wanted her to know he was in charge.
“Ms. Harrington, this is Mr. Boswell’s secretary, Ms. Hill. He’s in a meeting. How can I help you?”
