“I suppose all work and no play makes life dull. Do you like your work?”
He paused to consider before answering. “Yeah, I do. It has its challenges, but boy, when it goes well I just feel like if I can do that, I can do anything.”
Her pulse speeded up at the thought of just exactly what he might do to her. The waitress returned and Ryan reached out for her drink. This would be interesting, she thought, given that she’d never had a martini in her life. They always looked sophisticated, though, with that deep green olive glowing in the icy clear liquid. How bad could it be? “Here’s to weeknights,” she said, and clinked her glass against his. She took a sip and the cold, clean taste of the liquor flowed over her tongue. Then the heat slammed into her and she coughed fire.
“You okay?”
Eyes watering, Ryan nodded, giving up the pretense of sophistication. “My first martini.” She coughed again. “I always thought they looked great but never had the nerve to try one before.”
“And what’s the verdict?”
She gave a rueful smile. “It’s an eye-opener.”
Cade ran his thumb lightly across her cheek. “So are you.”
A shiver ran up her spine at his touch. Then the first flush of the liquor hit her. She couldn’t tell whether the warmth she felt was from the drink or from the heat in his eyes. Her pulse jumped and she groped to organize her scattered thoughts. Say something witty, Ryan. “Do they give you guys a script or something?”
Cade blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“You say such pretty things it’s like something out of a movie.” She took another cautious sip of her drink and was pleased to find that it flowed down easily this time.
“Is that a polite way of saying ‘stop feeding me lines’?”
She smiled. “No, it’s nice. I like it. Guys just don’t usually say things like that to me.” And though she tried to tell herself it was part of his professional persona, she was charmed.
“You’re obviously hanging around with the wrong guys. I guarantee any man in this room would be thrilled if you walked up and started talking with him.” His eyes glimmered. “Unless his wife were sitting next to him, of course.”
“Oh please.”
“You don’t believe me?” He surveyed the room. “There are about fifteen or twenty men sitting in this bar. We can take a poll.” There was a burst of raucous laughter from the conventioneers. “Actually, I don’t need to take a poll. Those guys over there? The only time they’ve been quiet the entire night was when you walked through the door. Aunt Cordelia and her charge at the next couch over were very grateful.”
Ryan caught the glare the older woman gave the group. “I noticed when I walked in that she wasn’t very happy. Why do you suppose she stays there instead of moving?”
Cade shrugged. “Boston Brahmin—she was there first, why should she move for a bunch of savages?”
Ryan’s smile flashed again. “You seem to know the type well.”
“I was married to a baby Brahmin for a couple of years. I learned to recognize entitlement from fifty paces.”
“Where’s the baby Brahmin now?”
Cade took another sip of his drink. “Getting remarried, last time I heard. Hopefully it’ll stick for her this time.”
It was Ryan’s turn to raise her eyebrows. “You don’t seem very bitter. Most people tend to be hostile after divorces.”
He shrugged, his eyes dropping to where the blue silk dipped low over her breasts, then rising back up to meet her eyes. “No reason I should be. We just made a bad pair. It was best for both of us that we ended it.”
“Was that how she felt about it?”
“More or less. I think her family was relieved. They lived off a one-hundred-and-fifty-year-old shipping fortune. Someone who worked like I did was an embarrassment to them.”
She looked into his laughing eyes and found herself smiling at the thought of an unrepentant gigolo infiltrating an old-money Boston family. They must have been scandalized. “I take it you didn’t agree?”
He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Not really. I dealt with people who had a certain set of needs and I came in and made sure they got satisfied. That seemed pretty worthwhile to me.”
“So you leave satisfied customers behind you?” She took another sip of her martini and her eyes darkened as she licked a drop of vodka from her lip.
Cade lost a beat watching her. “I do my best. I think satisfaction is a pretty worthy goal.” He hooked a finger in his tie to loosen it, then unbuttoned his collar.
Ryan suddenly had an image of pulling the tie off, unfastening the buttons one by one as he lay back on a bed. She shifted on the couch and her thighs brushed together, a tendril of heat starting to grow between them.
The bar had been gradually filling up with more patrons. Noticing the mood, the piano player switched from bad Harry Nilsson to bad Billy Joel. Ryan winced at the opening strains of “It’s Still Rock and Roll to Me.” “That’s painful. I didn’t think it could get any worse than the last tune.”
“I think the quality of the material is irrelevant. He was murdering ‘Love is the Drug’ before you got here.”
“I’m sorry I missed it,” she said insincerely.
Cade grinned. “So let’s see. You don’t want the smooth talk, am I right?”
“Oh, I like it when you talk pretty. Just skip the stuff that sounds like a line. You’ve already got me.” She took another sip of her drink and felt the warmth run through her.
“Let’s see. Well, I could tell you that I’ve been sitting here thinking that your eyes are a very elusive color of green and I just realized that they match the olive in your drink. Now that’s straight from the brain, no lines in sight.”
Ryan winced. “I think I liked it better the other way.”
She laughed and something flipped in his gut. Well that was new, he thought. Beyond her, he saw the blonde he’d noticed earlier. Against the swirl of vivid color that was Ryan, she only looked more icy pale than before.
Cade took another swallow of scotch, wanting to hear that soft, throaty laugh again. “So what do you do when you’re not hanging around hotel lobbies with strange men?”
“Oh, I spin yarns,” she said airily.
“Oh yeah? Tell me a good story.”
When she’d been a child, her family would go to a lake in Maine in the summers. In early June, the water was still icy cold. There were two ways to approach it. You could start at the shore, stepping in an inch at a time, waiting for your body to acclimate until you got so chilled the water didn’t feel cold anymore. Or you could run off the end of the dock and jump in, take the shock all at once. In for a penny, in for a pound.
Ryan had always jumped.
She took a deep breath and looked in his eyes. “Let’s go upstairs and I will.”
Cade blinked, and Patrick’s words came back to him. Maybe in a couple of minutes a gorgeous woman will show up out of the blue and come on to you. And if she does, do me a favor, buddy. Don’t question it, don’t ask why. Just go with it and let whatever happens, happen.
Maybe Patrick was right.
“Whatever you say, darlin’.” He rose and pulled her to her feet. “I’m all yours.”
2
JUST WHAT HAD HE GOTTEN himself into, Cade wondered bemusedly as he listened to Ryan’s heels click on the marble lobby tiles. He was pretty sure this was not the way pickups went in this day and age. But the scotch was singing in his blood, the flush of triumph was still flowing through him, and he couldn’t stop wondering what it would feel like to touch her skin.
Ryan ran a hand through her hair, shaking it back. She’d thought she’d be more nervous, but somehow she was more at ease than she’d ever been with a man. Always before she’d wondered and analyzed, trying to figure out what he was thinking, how he felt.Whether he wanted her.
This time, she didn’t have to wonder. Everybody knew what was going to happen up front. The situation should have m
ade her feel awkward, but it was strangely liberating. The deal was done, she could just ride with it.
And yet, somehow it didn’t feel like a deal. She could swear she’d seen heat in his eyes when she’d approached him. Maybe he was just very good at his job, but it seemed too genuine to be an act. Helene’s friend was right, it felt like a date. A perfect date who was going to put out. She laughed to herself.
“What’s the joke?” Cade asked, those extraordinary eyes on her.
Ryan smiled. “This. I thought it would feel so strange, but it doesn’t.”
“Why should it?”
She shrugged. “I’m sure you hear this all the time, but I’ve never done this before. You know where it goes from here. It’s all new to me.”
“I have no idea where it goes from here,” Cade spoke with perfect truth. “I thought we’d work it out as we go along.”
A chime rang as the elevator doors opened and they stepped into the car. “Fourteenth floor,” she said when he looked at her inquiringly. He punched a button and the car surged upward. Her stomach fluttered in a way that had nothing to do with the movement. Somehow their fingers were still entangled as though they’d fused together. The heat licked up her arm and a surge of pleasure washed over her. It felt so good to touch someone. Just to touch someone. Then his fingertips began tracing patterns over her palm, and she caught her breath.
The chime rang again, and the elevator doors opened on a plushly carpeted hall.
And the nerves hit. Ryan’s hand shook as she dug in her purse for the room folio. “Fourteen twenty-seven. I think we’re down here.” One of her heels caught in the thick carpet and she wobbled before Cade caught her arm.
“Steady.”
Steady? She’d never been less steady in her life. “No more martinis for me.”
“They do pack a punch.”
“So do you.”
“Now who’s talking like the movies?”
She laughed. “I’m the client. I’m allowed to do what I want.”
“What?” Cade came to a stop, fortunately in front of the right door. What the hell was going on? The client? If she was the client, then who did she think he was? What was this all about? To buy himself time to think, he took the card from her hand and unlocked the door.
Ryan took a deep breath and stepped inside. Across the room, floor to ceiling windows looked out on the Boston skyline and a cool April night. Inside, warm light from a silk-shaded table lamp suffused the room. Ornate gold throw pillows accented a couch covered in soft, muted blues and an armchair pulled up nearby. She tried to ignore the acre of bed beyond.
On the low oak coffee table, a plate of cheese and grapes sat next to a bottle of cabernet and a pair of cut-glass goblets. “That Helene,” Ryan said dryly, “she doesn’t miss a trick.”
Cade stepped up behind her to slide her wrap off, staring at her pale shoulders gleaming in the soft light. He wanted to curl his fingers around them and feel her skin against his palms, see if it was as silky soft as it looked. Fill his hands with the hair that flowed down her back, press it to his lips. Feel her move against him. God, it had been so long…
“Who’s Helene?” he asked.
Ryan could feel the heat from his body as he stood behind her. Desire pulled at her and she swayed. Touch me touch me touch me drummed through her mind. Strive for sophisticated, she thought. “Helene’s my agent. You have her to thank for the business, you know.” Because her nerves were strained to the breaking point, she moved away and sank down on the soft blue cushions of the couch.
Business? Agents? Just who was she, Cade wondered, watching her reach toward the tray. She had the lush mouth of an actress, and a body dressed to drive a man wild. She’d talked about it being her first time, but then she’d mentioned spinning tales. Just relax, he thought to himself, ride along with it. “So you said you spin tales. Do you act?” He took the wine bottle and corkscrew that she handed to him.
Ryan gave a short laugh. “Hardly. I’m a writer. Part of the time, anyway.”
“What do you write?”
His hands were long-fingered, capable, and she stared in fascination. “Oh, women’s fiction,” she answered vaguely, watching him twist the cork off of the corkscrew, then handing him a glass. “I’ve got a nasty case of writer’s block and a deadline. My agent thought this would give me inspiration.”
“Inspiration for what?” Cade asked, his brow creasing in puzzlement as he poured the wine into the cut crystal and handed her a glass. Pouring a glass for himself, he sat on the couch.
Ryan looked at him impishly. “To the power of inspiration.” She clinked her glass against his.
“You still have to tell me what for,” he reminded her, then drank, letting the dark flavor of the wine roll over his tongue.
“For my sex scenes, of course,” she said.
Cade choked.
Ryan watched him cough, amused. “What, you don’t think of yourself as an artistic muse?” she asked, watching as he walked over to the windows and back, catching his breath.
“If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about then no, I don’t,” he said as he came back to the couch. He picked up the glass that he’d set on the table while he was busy coughing up a lung and took a long drink.
“Well I hope you live up to your billing. This has to be a very hot scene. Helene’s friend said you had the hands and mouth of a god,” Ryan said, and watched him choke again. “You came highly recommended,” she said, then pounded him helpfully on the back. “Should I get you some water?”
“No, thank you.” Cade cleared his throat and grabbed his glass again. Christ, he definitely needed a drink while he worked out what to do here. All his instincts were telling him to go, not to get involved, but her scent wound around his brain. He started to drink, then lowered the glass. “Do me a favor. Don’t say anything else dangerous while I drink this, okay?” He eyed her warily over the rim as he sipped, then he put it down.
Ryan popped a grape into her mouth, enjoying herself hugely. She felt desirable, gorgeous…sexy. Power surged through her. She crossed her legs slowly and leaned toward him, resting her arm on the back of the couch. “So what happens now?” Her pulse skittered over the deep, slow burn of arousal. She wanted to feel his hands on her, now. “Isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to start feeding me grapes and having your way with me?”
Her husky voice and the slow smile that went with the words hit him like a sucker punch. Didn’t this one just beat all, he thought. He wanted her so badly he could feel it pulsing through him, but going along with this charade had the makings of a disaster. He owed it to her to tell her what was going on.
Yeah, but what did it matter really, asked a soft, persuasive voice in his head. That was the little head thinking for the big head, Cade thought grimly, but he stared at the shadows in the hollow of her neck and listened anyway. She thought she was sleeping with a gigolo. Really, she’d be better off sleeping with him. At least he’d be doing it because he wanted her, not because he wanted money. As far as complications went, well, it wasn’t as though she could be expecting to have a relationship with a gigolo, so it could all begin and end here. He couldn’t lead her on because the very nature of the situation meant that she wouldn’t be expecting anything besides a one-time roll in the hay.
Besides, if he told her the truth now she’d strangle him.
Okay, here was the deal, he thought, shutting down the voice. He’d go to the bathroom and figure out some kind of fake excuse, and then he’d go. He’d do the right thing and get up and go. Right then.
Except that just then he had a hard-on that would hammer nails.
Ryan was watching him closely. “What’s wrong? You’ve got a really funny look on your face.”
“I uh…I just remembered that I forgot to bring along any condoms,” he said, and gave himself points. In today’s world it was a pretty valid excuse.
“Oh.” She fought down a quick surge of disappointmen
t, then paused as she considered some of the alternatives. “And here I thought you were a professional,” she said mockingly. “I guess you’ll just have to think of something special to keep my mind off the fact that I’m not getting the full package, so to speak.”
He should have known there’d be no easy outs here, Cade thought. He must be out of his mind trying to escape it. Any other single guy would be all over this one in a heartbeat. Any other guy would be all over her in a heartbeat. “Well, it’s actually got me thinking. Based on what you said before, I just…I think you’re doing this for the wrong reasons.”
“The wrong reasons?” Ryan echoed in bewilderment, her euphoria dying away. “Because I’m paying you for sex for business reasons rather than for personal companionship? You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I just don’t want this to turn out to be a bad thing for you. We’re having a good time. Why don’t we just leave it at this?”
Suddenly it felt like every horrid date she’d ever had. Like the worst times with Ross, thinking he wanted her, finding out it was all entirely different than she’d imagined. “I thought we were supposed to have sex,” she snapped. “I didn’t realize that this was a pass/fail interview.” She jumped up and stalked to the wall of windows, leaning against the handrail that ran across it and staring out into the night. “This is unbelievable. I must be the only person I know who can’t make it with a guy even when I’m paying him.”
“This has nothing to do with me not wanting you,” Cade said sharply, rising to follow her. “But if we do this I think you’re going to be sorry, and I don’t want that. I like you. And I don’t think you’re thinking this through.”
“You don’t think I’m thinking this through?” Ryan spun to face him, sputtering in outrage. “What business is it of yours? Who set you up to decide what’s best for me?” Two spots of color stained her cheeks. “Whatever happened to all your talk about satisfying needs? This is supposed to be about money, honey.” The words dripped with sarcasm.
My Sexiest Mistake Page 3
