She cringed. “I wouldn’t have thought there would be a lot of lonely ladies coming to New Orleans during the Christmas holidays.”
He reached out, taking a lock of her hair so that he could twirl it around his fingers. “You’d be surprised how many women are lonely in New Orleans. Take yourself, for instance.”
Becca pulled back, not liking the turn in conversation. “I’m not lonely,” she argued, but couldn’t look him in the eye as she said that.
She felt his thumb gently rub against the back of her hand, sending tingles of awareness throughout her whole body. “You’re very lonely.”
Becca was surprised by his astute perception, but laughed as if he was wrong and waved away his concerns. “Nope. I’m here with my friends, one of whom is getting married next weekend. She’s going to be the beautiful, blushing bride and live happily ever after.” And yet, the image of Lillian standing next to Phillip earlier tonight popped into her head. Would she? Be happy?
“So, why are you so lonely?” His fingers rubbed against her skin and she felt the heat all the way down to her toes. “Is it because you hate your life in New York?”
Whoa! That comment struck too close to home. How…why had he even thought that? Did it show on her face somehow? Had she said something to reveal her frustration with her life in New York? She pulled back, startled by his comment. “Who says I’m lonely? I’m not lonely. I have my good friends and we’re great. And I love my life in New York. It’s exciting and fun and there’s always something to do, no matter what time of the day or night.”
He watched her carefully and Becca felt as if he could see into her soul.
His smile was slightly sad, almost as if he pitied her. “And you hate every moment of it, don’t you?”
Becca didn’t answer. She shifted on the sofa and took a sip of her coffee. “I love it.”
“Why lie about it? You’ll never see me again after you leave here,” he coaxed. “Why not talk to me and admit why you hate it and why you are so painfully lonely? I’m a stranger that will never reveal your secrets to anyone.” He paused and Becca was sure he could see her hesitation. “Trust me, your secret is safe with me.”
She laughed self-consciously, wondering why she was even tempted to trust this man. “I barely know you.” Besides, he was too handsome, too amazingly virile to be trusted. He was a gigolo, she reminded herself.
Then again, he was a gigolo. She’d read somewhere that men for hire sometimes didn’t have sex with the women who paid for their time. These men were simply good listeners.
“And you’ll never see me after next weekend’s wedding, right? I’m the perfect confidant. And besides,” he touched her cheek again and she held her breath as desire hit her, “you’ve already admitted that you hate sex. What other horrible secrets could you have?”
She laughed again, shaking her head, as she looked down at her lap, unable to maintain eye contact with him after being reminded of that supremely embarrassing memory. “I never should have told you that.”
“Of course you should have. Now I’m intrigued and ready for the challenge.”
She pulled back slightly, looking warily into his hazel eyes. “What challenge?”
“The challenge of teaching you to love sex.” He paused, his gaze intense for a moment. “With me.”
She held her breath, wondering if he was teasing her again. Surely he was teasing and she couldn’t believe she was actually considering allowing him to show her. But in the end, her innate sense of caution kicked in and she lowered her lashes. “I’m sorry, I’m really not trying to throw out challenges to anyone.”
“I know. That’s what makes it all the more interesting.” He set his cup and saucer on the coffee table, and leaned back against the cushions, almost facing her. “So tell me, why is a beautiful woman like you lonely in fabulous New York City?”
She considered just changing the subject, but he was right. Why not just tell him everything? She’d never see him again and it wasn’t like he would tell her friends. Besides, they probably knew everything anyway, the four of them didn’t keep secrets.
Except, she’d never told anyone how much she hated New York. And Lillian hadn’t explained why she’s marrying a man she doesn’t love. After what she’d seen tonight, Becca suspected that Lillian might not even like her fiancé, even though they’d been friends before they’d become engaged.
So yes actually, there were secrets among the four of them.
“Okay. I’ll tell you.” She stood up and started pacing in front of the coffee table. “I’m twenty-six years old and I’m still living in a cramped apartment with two other women. All of us work at different companies, but it still feels as if we’re competing with each other. I leave for work at the crack of dawn every day of the week, work until the sun has set. It’s almost as if I’m living the life of a vampire, never seeing sunlight. And weekends? If I’m not working, I’m lugging my laundry down six flights of stairs, carrying it three blocks to the laundromat, stepping on some of the roaches along the way, and dancing away from the others.” Becca paused as an uncontrollable shiver of revulsion hit her. “And what do I get for all of this dedication and drudgery? Nothing!” she continued before he could answer, “I’m broke! Even sharing a stupid apartment and listening to my roommates have wild, crazy sex with strange men they just met at a bar on the way home from work…I still can’t afford to do anything other than work! Do you have any idea how much just riding on the subway costs in New York? It’s crazy!”
“Why don’t you move out of the city? Live on the other side of the river?”
She laughed derisively. “I have a friend who lives out in New Jersey. It costs her sixty dollars to ride the train and catch the subway into the city every day. So yeah, she has a slightly bigger place than I do. But she spends every spare moment commuting to work and back. She’s just as miserable as I am!”
“So why not find a job in another city?”
She scoffed, although several of her former co-workers and acquaintances had done just that. “Because working in New York City is the place to be.”
“Not if you’re miserable,” he argued.
She continued to impatiently pace back and forth, unaware of the man admiring her long legs and full hips in the black cocktail dress.
“The thing is, I can’t leave. If I do, I’d feel as if I’d lost.”
“Lost what?” he asked softly.
She impatiently pushed her hair out of her eyes and kept pacing. “Every day is a battle,” she told him. “Life a war and I’m determined to win.”
A dark eyebrow went up at her response. “At the price of your happiness? Isn’t there some other city you’ve always wanted to live in?”
She shook her head. “No. I’ve always wanted to live in New York. It’s been my dream to live there since I was a little girl.” Her lips twisted into a grimace. “You know that song? If you can make it in New York, you can make it anywhere? Well, I’ve taken that phrase to heart and I am determined to make it in that stupid city.”
He was quiet for a long moment. Finally, he smiled and she felt a huge sense of relief hit her. “Come here, Becca,” he ordered.
She thought about ignoring his command, but the look in his eyes told her that she’d be better off obeying. She wouldn’t do that all the time, she vowed. It simply wasn’t in her to be demure and submissive. But in this case, with the heated look in his eyes, she wanted to know what came next. “Only because I’m tired,” she said, and kicked off her shoes as she walked over to the sofa. He pulled her down next to him and the air came out of her lungs in a whoosh. “What are you doing?” she demanded when he moved behind her.
“You’re going to relax, Becca,” he pushed her hair over her shoulder so that it was draped across her breast.
“I’m relaxed,” she insisted even as her spine stiffened with his strong hands against her shoulders.
The deep, sexy chuckle was her only warning before those strong fingers pr
essed into the tight muscles along her shoulders. “Honey, I don’t think you know the meaning of the word.”
She couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her lips when his fingers dug into her muscles, releasing tension that she hadn’t even realized was there. “Oh, you’re good!” she sighed, closing her eyes as he continued to work his magic. Becca was unaware of her fingers clutching at the soft leather of the sofa cushions as he continued kneading.
He laughed softly, very close to her ear. “You have no idea.”
She smiled as well and tilted her head to the side to give him more room. “I’m starting to get an idea,” she teased right back.
“This is nothing. Try out my other skills and then you’ll start to understand just how good I am.”
Her eyes were closed, or he might have seen her eyeballs roll into the back of her head with those words. She was fairly sure he felt her shiver of awareness, but pretended that it hadn’t happened. Besides, if she said anything, he might stop doing that to her shoulders and that would be bad. Just painfully bad!
Alex watched as Becca slowly relaxed against him. Carefully, he eased the pressure from his fingers and pulled her back against his chest. Holding her like this certainly hadn’t been his plan when he’d brought her up to his apartment. Then again, he hadn’t really thought out what he was going to do with the tightly strung beauty. He just knew that he’d wanted to spend time with her. Of course, he hadn’t imagined her falling asleep on him.
Toeing off his shoes, he relaxed against the cushions. He thought about turning off the lights, but he didn’t want to disturb her. She was obviously exhausted after today’s events. The shooting this morning across the square had rattled her, which was why he’d ensured that they’d stayed in the bar instead of venturing out again. Alex had called his contacts in the police department to find out more information and had been shocked by what he heard about the morning.
Now, feeling the soft curves of Rebecca…no, her friends called her “Becca”…he was amazed that she’d lasted through the day. Yes, this woman was tough in ways he didn’t really understand and he realized that he wanted to, he wanted to understand all of her.
Chapter 3
“Relax.”
The deep voice came from right under her ear, but definitely wasn’t conducive to any kind of relaxation. Lifting her head, she slowly looked around, trying to figure out where she was. And why!
Becca acknowledged that she hadn’t slept that well in…well, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept that deeply. Normally, she woke up in the middle of the night, thinking about all of the details she needed to take care of as soon as she walked into her office. Well, her cubicle. She hadn’t made it high enough up on the corporate ladder to merit an actual office yet.
So what had caused her to sleep so well?
The room…it was familiar but it definitely wasn’t her apartment back in New York. It was bigger. Cleaner. Much more comfortable. In the summer, her apartment was too hot to stay inside, forcing her and her roommates to head out as fast as possible. In the winter, the temperature dropped to levels that didn’t allow for bare feet. Even in socks, the floor was so cold, it sent shards of icy pain to shoot up through her feet.
So no, this wasn’t her apartment. And it didn’t look like her hotel room either. The colors were different. Darker. More masculine.
As she lifted her head, her memory came back to her and she jerked out of his arms. “We didn’t…?”
The soft laughter hit her low in the belly, causing all of her feminine parts to react in embarrassing ways.
“You really don’t know how to relax, do you?” Alex teased as he sat up and stretched. “And no. We didn’t.”
She stood up, quickly stepping away from him as she pushed her hair out of her eyes. “What happened last night?”
“You don’t remember?” he asked as he stood up as well and moved closer to her. As soon as she stepped backwards, he grabbed her hand and pulled her right back against him. “If you don’t remember, then maybe I should just make something up and let you think that something deliciously salacious happened.”
She stared up into his dark eyes, her whole body trembling with fear and reaction. Okay, and awareness. Yeah, she was completely, painfully aware of him as a man this morning. Not that she’d ignored that pertinent fact last night, but this morning he looked amazing! The five o’clock shadow made him appear almost sinister and the sleepy look in those bedroom eyes gave her ideas that were better left in the pages of a romance novel. Because in real life, things like what he was promising with his eyes just didn’t happen. She knew that for a fact, gigolo or not.
“I have to go,” she whispered, but he didn’t release her. They stood there, silently staring at one another and Becca wasn’t inclined to move. He felt…incredibly good!
Something suddenly occurred to her. “Wait, do I owe you for last night?” she gasped, realizing that she’d monopolized his time for hours. She began calculating the night hours times the rate he’d quoted her last night and cringed inwardly.
He laughed and pulled her even closer. “No. You don’t owe me anything for last night.”
“But…”
“Becca,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
“What?” she asked, trying to figure out how to handle a man as sensual and seductive as Alex. This was crazy! What was she doing? What was he doing?
“Shut up,” he ordered mere moments before his warm lips touched hers.
Oh, he was good! Really good! Becca practically melted into the expensive carpet as his lips caressed hers. Over and over again, he teased, nipped, and tasted, sliding over her mouth, teasing her tongue until she was fully participating in the kiss. And then she was lost. His fingers slid up her back, one hand diving into her hair so he could tilt her head slightly, deepening the kiss. She loved it, trembled in his arms and pressed her body against his length, amazed at the strength, shocked by how desperately she wanted him to do much more than a kiss.
When he finally lifted his head, she was quivering with amazement and shock. “Wow,” she whispered.
“I agree,” and he stepped back but held her hands in his, dropping them lower. “I believe you have a breakfast with the bride in,” he looked at his watch, “forty-five minutes. Any chance you might have time for dinner with me later tonight?”
Becca wasn’t even sure what day it was, much less what Lillian had scheduled for the day. “Um…”
“Give me your cell phone,” he told her and stepped back.
Becca looked around and, thankfully, found her evening bag on the coffee table where she’d dropped it late last night when they’d arrived. Searching through it, she pulled out her cell phone, not sure what he was going to do with it.
He pressed several buttons and returned it to her. “Now you have my number. If you have time, text me and let me know. I’d love to hear how your day went today,” he smiled as he bent his head lower before saying, “And help you relax again tonight.”
She clenched the phone in her hands and stared up at him for a long moment, not sure how to respond. Becca knew she should tell him that sex between the two of them simply would never happen, but the words didn’t form in her mind. Her lips were still tingling from that kiss and it took all of her energy to stop herself from asking him for more right now. But he was right. Lillian had things scheduled for today, she needed to hurry.
Finally tearing her gaze away, she fumbled for her shoes, feeling silly for wearing a cocktail dress with the bright light of the morning shining through the windows. She was going to have to do the walk of shame, even though she hadn’t had the night of pleasure.
She looked around, the awkwardness intensifying as she stood there clutching her shoes and cell phone, but she still felt weird.
Looking at him, she noticed that he’d been watching her the whole time, his hands in the pockets of his still immaculate slacks. But there was an obvious bulge there. A fascinat
ing bulge. A bulge that she shouldn’t be looking at, she told herself.
Pulling her eyes away, she took a deep breath. “I’m going to go now,” she announced and turned around. As fast as she could, she hurried to the door. But before she left, she glanced back at him one more time. When she looked, he was looking down. “Were you just looking at my butt?” she asked, both complimented and horrified.
His grin was unrepentant. “I was. And I like what I saw.”
She blushed, stared for a long moment trying to determine if he was just being nice and charming, or if he was sincere. Her butt was definitely not a part of her figure that she’d ever thought of as good. In fact, it was just sort of…there, following her around wherever she went.
Her fingers fumbled with the doorknob and she almost dropped her purse. Thankfully, she was able to pull herself together and didn’t make too big of a fool of herself. “Um…yes. Right. Goodbye,” she finally said and slipped out the door.
When the elevator arrived, she jumped inside and pressed the button for her floor, crossing her fingers that she didn’t run into anyone she knew this morning. It was bad enough that she was in a cocktail dress, but it was worse that she didn’t even have anything to brag about! If a woman comes home in the morning in a cocktail dress, she damned well should have a good story to tell! Unfortunately, a shoulder massage and one kiss…one fantastic, amazing, mind-blowing kiss…well, that didn’t really pass the “good story” test.
Thankfully, she didn’t run into anyone in the hallway and was able to slip into her room undetected.
She showered and changed into leggings, a tank top, and a billowing sweater, then pulled a pair of black, low-heeled boots that came up to just over her knees. She loved these boots, wore them every chance she could and had splurged on them when she’d seen them on sale at the shoe store two spring seasons ago. So yeah, they were designer boots. And she didn’t care that they were two seasons old. They still looked good and she felt sassy walking around in them.
Passionate Mystery Page 3
