Becka lifted a slice of pizza to her mouth. “I don’t know, babycakes, it sounds to me like you’re passing on something good.” She took a bite of pizza and made a little purring noise of pleasure.
“Yeah, but then I think about how one minute he looks at me like he wants to have me on toast, the next he turns around and tells me he doesn’t believe that love can last.”
“Maybe he’s confusing love with lust.”
“Maybe I am.” Ryan bit into her pizza.
Becka looked at her sharply. “You’re not saying you’re falling for him, are you?”
“Not even,” Ryan said hastily. She wasn’t, was she? “I do think about him more than I should. But that’s probably natural, don’t you think? I mean, he’s the first guy I’ve had anything going with in years. Part of me—okay a lot of me—wants to sleep with him again,” she confessed, and grinned. “I’ve been having some really randy dreams.”
“You go, girl,” Becka said, clinking her beer bottle against Ryan’s.
“It’s just that, I don’t know…” she sighed. “Sleeping with someone for the sake of sex sounds all well and good, but at the end of the day I want more than that.”
“I told you the first time we talked about him, you’re a romantic. You’re always going to look for love, whether it’s this guy or someone else.”
“Believe me, it’s not this guy.” Of course it wasn’t. Chemistry, yes, and maybe a bit of liking, but not love. They turned on the movie and Ryan sighed and bit into her pizza. Life had been so much easier when her sex life consisted of feature films.
12
RYAN STOOD AT THE FRONT of the classroom at Beckman Markham, watching the video crew set up the microphones and minicam. She studied the black electrician’s tape that they’d put down on the carpet to indicate where she should stand, her stomach roiling with nerves. Just knowing that Cade was going to walk into the room at any moment had tension thrumming through her. The unblinking eye of the camera was nothing compared with the emotional chaos he made her feel.
“Just relax and pretend we’re not here,” said the cameraman, a youngish bearded guy named Pete, as he focused the lens. What would be better, she thought, would be to relax and pretend that she wasn’t there, to take herself far, far away. Willing the nerves to subside, she looked at the chairs in the first row and tried to organize her thoughts.“Take it easy,” Pete said. “Don’t worry if you mess up. We can always edit it or start again.” He checked the lens one last time. “You all set?” he asked. At her nod, he switched on the camera.
Ryan never used a script when she taught, only an outline of the major points. The rest, the important parts, she adlibbed as she went along. For her, teaching was about connecting with the people in her class, about communicating. Now, with the gleaming eye of the camera on her and no students in sight, she had no connection to play to. Words deserted her. She knew she was supposed to look into the lens, but the gleaming purplish black circle only made her freeze up. She groped for the easy tone of her usual introduction.
Then Cade walked into the room and every thought flew out of her head.
“Cut,” the cameraman called.
Cade flashed her a smile. As usual, he wore an exquisitely cut suit, this time camel-colored. An earth-toned tie in an architectural motif, the sleek gold sweep of a tie chain, the gold cufflinks winking at his wrists, all of it built up the picture of the perfect gentleman. Then his blue-black eyes met hers and she had a sudden, vivid memory of how he’d looked with his shirt unbuttoned and hanging off his shoulders as he stood in the darkened suite in Manhattan. Hastily, she glanced down at her note cards, hoping her face didn’t betray her thoughts.
“Sorry I’m late, my meeting ran over,” Cade said, unbuttoning his jacket. “What’s the status?”
“We’re just getting started,” answered Pete, helping his partner reposition the microphone.
“Just give me a minute,” Cade said over his shoulder, and walked up to Ryan, making her pulse accelerate with every step he took. “How are you doing?”
“Great. Fine. Couldn’t be better,” she said quickly, suppressing the urge to step back to where she could think for a minute. The slight whiff of his scent, something clean and spicy and male, sent the butterflies in her stomach fluttering. A sheaf of dark hair fell over his forehead. Her fingers itched to run through it and push it back into place. Instead, she willed herself to focus on the job at hand.
She looked jittery, he thought. It wouldn’t do to think of all the ways he’d like to relax her, touching her until she was hot and damp and mindless.
“You’re going to do great,” he said reassuringly. “Don’t think about the camera. Just pretend you’re talking to a room full of students.” Pretend you don’t want that lush, clever mouth under yours, he thought to himself. Pretend you’re not imagining the feel of her breasts in your hands. “It’ll be a piece of cake, you’ll see.”
“Easy for you to say. There’s no one here for me to talk to.”
“There’s me.” His eyes darkened. “Just think of me as your student. I’m sure there’s a thing or two you could teach me.” He stared at her just a beat too long then walked back toward the rows of desks, pulling his coat off and tossing it over a chair. Ryan caught the flash of silk suspenders, the kind that hooked to his trousers with leather loops. The kind she’d always thought were unbearably sexy. Underneath, his body was lean and powerful.
Cade hooked a finger in his tie to loosen it. “I always thought if I ran the company I’d wear suits less, not more,” he muttered ruefully, dropping into a chair in the front row of tables and rolling up his sleeves. “Okay, chief, let ’er rip.”
Ryan stared at him sitting there, one arm hooked over the chair back, looking like an advertisement for GQ, and felt like laughing at the sheer impossibility of running through a class when she had a distraction like him in the room. It was nerves, she told herself with a flare of impatience. Nerves had her off balance, thinking of Cade when she should be focused on work. Clearing her throat and trying to ignore the steadily tightening thread of desire that ran through her, Ryan began.
He gave her what would have been an encouraging smile if it hadn’t been as wolfishly sexy as a come-on. All her words dried up in a heartbeat, leaving her stuttering and mentally cursing herself. “Look at the camera,” Pete had said, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off Cade.
Finally she stopped. “I’m sorry, can we start over, please?”
“Okay, once more from the top,” called Pete. He rewound the tape and she began again. Then her eyes met Cade’s, just for an instant, and everything else receded. She felt his gaze like a physical touch. For just a moment, it felt like they were the only ones in the room. Everything else became completely irrelevant.
“Cut,” Pete said again and sighed. “Look, why don’t we take five, let you get your thoughts together, then come back to it?”
Ryan stood absolutely still at the front of the classroom. She’d never been so embarrassed in her entire career. She was blowing it, big time. She, who prided herself on her competency, her ability, her professionalism. It was part of who she was. Or had been, before she met Cade.
He was watching her with those blue-black eyes, reminding her of all the things she didn’t want to feel, just when she could least afford to feel them. Before he could rise, Ryan made a beeline for the sanctuary of her office, breathing a sigh of relief as she dropped into her chair. Nervous tension had her rising to stalk to the windows, staring out at the street below, fighting to get past the frustration that had enveloped her. Up to now, she’d never run across something that she couldn’t do. Up until now. Calm, she thought. She had to calm down or she’d never be able to think.
“What’s the big rush?” Cade stood in the doorway. He stepped into her office, swinging the door shut behind him.
She didn’t jerk in surprise at his voice. She’d known he would follow her. Turning to look at him, she found it impossible not to th
ink of the last time she’d been this close to him. What they’d done. What she wanted to do again.
He crossed the room to her with easy assurance.
Ryan reached out to touch the window frame for support, feeling the cool of the metal against her palm. “This isn’t working. I can’t do it.” It took work to keep the unsteadiness out of her voice.
“Sure you can.”
His voice was low and smooth. She remembered the way his throat had vibrated under her mouth when she was kissing him and he groaned. Unconsciously, she ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. “I just can’t get into the flow. I don’t know what’s wrong.” It was a lie, she thought. She knew exactly what was wrong. It was her own mind betraying her. He’d wound into her thoughts, laid claim to her body. At a time when she should have been concentrating on work, she was helpless to stop thinking about him.
“You just aren’t used to the cameras. You’ll do better after the break.”
Frustration flooded through her. “No, I won’t,” she said positively. “The setup’s all wrong.” Unable to stay still, she paced restlessly across the office.
“What do you mean?” He turned to watch her walk.
Ryan spun to face him. “I can’t teach in a vacuum.” She spread her hands out. “I need students, I need to be interacting with people.”
His eyes glinted devilishly. “You can interact with me.”
Images of being naked and wrapped around him billowed up in her mind. Color stained her cheeks. “That’s hardly what I’m talking about, and the last thing I need is more distractions, thank you very much.”
“What’s distracting you? There’s hardly anyone in the room. Just Pete, the sound guy, and me. Are they bugging you?” he asked softly, and stepped closer to her. “Or is it me?” Hunger for her twisted in his gut. He could feel her skin against his palms, the memory was so clear.
Ryan edged backward until she felt the bookshelves at her back. Her heart pounded, in alarm or excitement, she couldn’t tell. “We’re in my office, Cade. This kind of thing is hardly appropriate.”
“I’m just asking a simple question.”
It wasn’t fleeing, just a strategic retreat, she told herself as she slid past him to go to her desk. Her hand brushed his in passing, and she caught her breath and flinched as she felt the sizzle. She dropped into her chair and shook her head. “This isn’t going to work. If you want to tape me, come to one of my classes and set up in the back of the room. I’m teaching next week out in Worcester. We can do it then.”
Cade pondered the notion for a moment. He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully and walked over to her desk. “Okay, assuming Pete and his buddy are available.”
“Okay. But you tell them to just turn on the cameras and let it roll,” she warned. “No interrupting or calling ‘cut.’ Your cameraman will just be a fly on the wall.”
“We’ll be so discreet you won’t even notice us.”
The day she didn’t notice him would be the day she was stone cold in her grave, Ryan thought. Looking at his mouth made her think of the Copley Hotel. Looking at his hands made her think of the balcony in Manhattan. All at a time when she should have been getting her act together so she could perform the way she was paid to do.
A sudden fury swept over her. She’d tried to set down rules at the beginning and he’d just laughed at her. Now she, who’d always prided herself on doing her job well, was suddenly screwing it up big time. Ryan set her jaw. He was not going to wreak havoc with her life and her career. She was going to ignore him and get her act in gear, that was all there was to it.
“What have you got here?” he was looking at the notes on her desk, outlines for a new course she was preparing.
“None of your business,” she said sharply, flipping the folder closed.
He dropped into the chair across from her desk and studied her. “You mind telling me what’s wrong?”
“What’s always wrong?” she snapped.
“Ah.” He eyed her steadily. “We’re playing by your rules. What’s the problem?”
It was too late for the rules to help, she thought. That was the problem. It had been hard enough when she was merely attracted to him. After the drive to Manhattan and the time they’d spent there, she was in way deeper than she could handle. Distance was what she needed, but it was the last thing she could get.
And if she was honest with herself, she knew even distance wouldn’t help.
“Talk to me,” Cade said quietly.
Ryan blew out a breath. “I’m sorry, I’m just frustrated with myself.” She made a sudden, vain wish that he didn’t look so good and stood up. “Come on, let’s go back and try one more time.”
THE SOUND OF VACUUM cleaners from the custodial staff echoed through the empty halls of Beckman Markham. Ryan looked up from her computer and rubbed her eyes. She’d stayed at her desk well after the rest of her colleagues left for the day, trying to make up for the time she’d lost. The aborted taping had consumed the better part of the afternoon, but she doubted that much of it would be usable. No matter how she’d tried to focus, she’d only wound up getting distracted by his face, his hands, by wondering what he was thinking about.
By wanting him.Her frustration level rose with every mistake. Every time Pete called “cut” her patience grew thinner. They finally gave up, making plans to meet in Worcester the following week. When she got back to her desk, her nerves were completely ragged. Trying to concentrate on the course was a labor and her progress was almost nonexistent.
It was beginning to be impossible to work.
She focused again on the computer screen where she was putting together a list of bullet points for the new class. “Managing a project from start to finish,” she muttered to herself. Rule number one, don’t sleep with your team members before the project starts. Rule number two, communicate with your team members as little as possible when they only make you think of climbing all over them. Rule number three, don’t think about how it felt when you were both naked and he was sliding your legs apart, putting his mouth against you, sliding the tip of his tongue against your…
Ryan slapped her hands on her desk top in frustration. It had to stop, that was all there was to it. The question was how? The rules didn’t help at all. Trying not to think about making love with Cade worked about as well as the childhood game of not thinking of elephants. She’d tried to keep him at a distance, but he wouldn’t listen. Now because of him, her work was suffering. Her sanity was suffering.
What she was doing didn’t seem to be working.
Maybe it was time to go bag herself an elephant.
RYAN JERKED HER CAR TO A stop in front of condos that sat on the Cambridge side of the Charles River, like a jumble of glass and stone building blocks tossed down by a child. The sun was a fading glow on the western horizon, the air still unseasonably warm. Apple trees nodded with blossoms but she had no time to admire them. She stomped into the lobby and checked for Cade’s name. His condo was on the top floor. Naturally.
She’d see him and they’d hash this out, she thought, riding up in the elevator. And if that meant sex, so be it. She strode out onto his floor, stopping when she found his door. She rang the buzzer and waited, then, impatient, rang it again. Finally, she heard the sound of feet approaching.The door swung open to reveal Cade. He wore an old cotton shirt that might once have been navy, hanging down over faded jeans. Behind him, slow blues played. Pale gold wine filled the glass in his hand. His feet were bare.
“Ryan.” For a moment he stood and simply looked. She wore the skirt from the ripe red suit she’d had on earlier that day, but somewhere along the line she’d stripped off the jacket. Her silk blouse looked soft and smooth as cream, almost as smooth as the skin he knew lay beneath it. His eye followed the long line of her throat down into the now-unbuttoned neckline to where the soft swell of her breasts started. Her hair, once pinned up neatly, tumbled loose and wild over her shoulders as though she’d raked her hands through it. Her eye
s blazed with a wildness all their own.
Desire flooded over him.
“Can I come in?” she asked, her heart thudding in her chest.
“Sure.” He moved back and pulled the door open for her. “Something wrong?”
She stepped in the hall. “We need to talk.”
Tension vibrated through her, humming in her voice and putting him on alert. He took his time shutting the door and throwing the deadbolt, then turned to her. “First things first, you look like you could use a drink.”
She followed him down the hall. A flight of stairs rose to her right, a golden oak baluster gleaming faintly. The stairs that led to his bedroom, she thought with a little thrill of heat. A deep blue hall runner muffled the click of her heels. To her left, an arch led to a spacious, airy living room that looked out on the river. A glass sculpture, a flowing ribbon of translucent scarlet, sat on a pedestal near the window, the last beams of sunlight turning it to flame.
Cade turned into a cleanly efficient kitchen in tones of pale gray and burgundy, setting his glass down on the counter. He took a moment to put the wariness aside and enjoy the look of her in his house. “I’ve got a pinot grigio cold, or I can open a red.”
“No, white is fine.” A glass of cold, clear wine to cool her mind and let her think. Except that she didn’t want to be cooled down. She wanted to be hot. She wanted Cade.
He set a tall, slender wineglass on the granite counter, filling the glass with pale gold liquid and handing it to her. Picking up his own wine, he leaned against the counter. “To clean living,” he said, and clinked his glass against hers, the crystal ringing.
Ryan took a reckless gulp, then looked at him. “I think we should sleep together.”
He didn’t react for a moment, and she rushed on. “Look, we’ve spent days dancing around it and it’s making me crazy. I couldn’t get anything done today and neither could you.” She knew she was talking too fast but the words wouldn’t stop spilling out. “I thought it over and you were right in Manhattan. We should just do it and get it out of our systems.”
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