by Jo Leigh
Max went around the room, introducing him to everyone on the team. When Liam’s eyes lighted on Katie, a bone-clutching chill shot through her, immediately followed by a gush of thrilling heat.
Oh, this was bad.
“Katie,” he said, his voice oozing charm. “It’s nice to see you again.”
What did he mean by that remark?
He shook her hand and her gaze fixed on the now familiar barbed-wire tattoo encircling his wrist. A quick pulse of energy surged between them.
Lightning in a jar.
She jerked her hand back from the contact. His hazel eyes darkened and a slight but suggestive smile tipped his lips.
He knew!
“Hi,” she said because that was all she could manage to squeeze past her constricted throat.
Play it cool and act as if Friday night never happened. You’re going cold turkey.
“You two know each other?” Max arched an eyebrow.
“He’s dating my sister,” Katie explained.
“I’m not.” Liam’s eyes never left her face. “Brooke and I are just friends.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He smiled at her.
Relief washed over Katie, along with a surge of hope and a heightened sense of excitement. Settle down.
Liam turned to Max. “Actually, Katie’s the reason I’m here.”
“Really?” Max said archly.
“I’ve seen the graphic designs she did for the new campaign for Worthington’s Department Store. She’s a very talented artist. You scored big when you hired her.”
Liam’s compliment brought a flush of pride to Katie’s cheeks. Brooke worked for Worthington’s and she must have been the one to show Liam her design.
Max looked at Katie as if seeing her for the first time. “She’s not bad. A bit raw, but maybe she could become great with time and dedication.”
Coming from Max, that was a magnanimous admission.
Liam, broad shouldered and lean hipped, pulled out the chair beside Katie and sat down. Her heart thumped.
My legs have been wrapped around those hips, she thought.
The large conference room suddenly seemed claustrophobically small sitting this close to him, his crisp, masculine scent wafting over her. He smelled startlingly wonderful-like minty toothpaste mingled with rainy autumn days and…sweet, sweet sin.
Max took a seat, as well, steepled his fingertips and leaned forward. “So tell us about your new project, Mr. James.”
“Well,” Liam said, his gaze lingering on Katie so long she was certain he must have guessed her secret identity. She wanted to look away, but she simply could not. “It’s all about sex.”
“SEX?” Katie whispered.
Sex?
What in the devil had made him say that?
Katie Winfield, that’s who.
Liam hadn’t failed to notice the sweet curve of her ass as she’d gracefully eased it down into the plush leather chair. His palms itched to knead her sweet, firm flesh sheathed so provocatively by the silky material of her skirt. The strength of his need was shocking.
She was staring him straight in the eyes, not intimidated in the least by his frank appraisal.
Courageous. He liked that.
His gaze fell to her full, feminine mouth and hung there. God, she had gorgeous lips. It felt as if the conference room were empty and the world had narrowed to just the two of them. Staring into her eyes, Liam recognized the same out-of-control sensation that had gripped him at the masquerade party.
“Sex,” he repeated, as if that’s what he’d intended on saying all along. “I’m renovating downtown warehouses into condos and I want an ad campaign that appeals to hip, young, well-to-do urbanites.”
“And sex sells,” Katie said.
“Exactly.”
“We can do that,” Max Kruger interjected.
“But,” Liam spoke, never taking his gaze off Katie, “I want Katie in as the art director.”
“Katie?” Max sounded nonplussed.
“Me?” Katie squeaked.
“You.”
“Katie’s never served as art director on a campaign,” Max said.
“First time for everything,” Liam replied.
“Max is right,” Katie said. “I’d be out of my league.”
Liam shrugged and started to get up. “All right, if you don’t think you can handle success.”
“Excuse me.” Katie’s eyes sparked.
Had he made her mad?
“Could I speak to you out in the hallway for a moment?”
“Me?” He arched an eyebrow.
“You,” she said curtly.
“Why, sure.” Liam couldn’t stop the grin this time. “Max, do you mind?”
“It’s your dime.” Max waved a hand.
Katie marched out into the hallway. Liam followed leisurely, enjoying the view below her flouncing skirt hem. Damn, but the woman had a gorgeous pair of legs.
She pulled the door closed tight after him, sank her hands on her hips and spun to face him. “What in the hell are you trying to pull?”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t play innocent with me. I know what you’re up to.”
“You do?”
“Yes, and stop smiling at me.”
“You don’t like being smiled at?”
“Not by you.”
“What’s wrong with me?” He was enjoying teasing her.
“You…you dressed up like Captain Jack and took advantage of my case of mistaken identity.”
“Hey, now-” he raised a finger “-you were the one who pulled me into the closet.”
“So why did you come here today?” She folded her arms protectively over her chest.
“To get an ad campaign rolling for my new condos.”
“Liar.”
“Okay,” he admitted, “that wasn’t the only reason I chose Sharper Designs. I wanted to see you again, Katie, and apologize for what happened in the closet.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for. It happened. It’s over, and now that I know you’re not Brooke’s boyfriend, well, I don’t even have to feel guilty about it anymore, now do I?”
Liam angled his head and studied her face for a long moment. In spite of her words, she was still feeling guilty. “You made quite an impression on me.”
“Let’s get something straight,” she said. “You’re hiring my talents as a graphic designer, nothing more. As far as I’m concerned, Friday never happened. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’re still doing it,” she said.
“Doing what?”
“Smiling at me. Stop smiling at me.”
“What’s wrong with smiling?”
“Because you look adorable when you smile.”
“I know,” he said, his grin widening. “I’m trying to be irresistible.”
“It’s not working,” she muttered. “You’re resistible.”
“You are such a bad liar.”
Her earlobes turned pink. She ducked her head, but then peeked up at him from underneath those long eyelashes. His heart slammed when he spied the hint of vulnerability in those blue depths. Her eyes narrowed the world to only him.
Liam felt special.
In a nervous gesture, she slipped her fingers through her hair, and tucked a sleek blond strand behind one perfectly shaped ear. Her breasts rose and fell beneath the V-neck of her crisp white blouse, and he spied the sexy blush of a pink bra underneath the white top.
Oh, yeah, she knew how to get to a man.
She spun another strand of golden hair around an index finger in a graceful motion. Her fingernails, he noted, were painted a soft high-society color of pale rose. She wore a single gold chain around her neck and her earrings were plain gold studs. But everything she had on was of the highest quality. I
t was the understated attire of a true blue blood.
She was contradictory. There were her classically tailored work clothes, and then there was the French-maid persona she let loose in closets. He liked the paradox.
His gaze hung on her lips. Rich, ripe, painted the color of summer strawberries. He caught his breath and waited.
For what, he didn’t know.
Katie flicked out her tongue and touched the tip of it to the glistening gloss of her upper lip. Slowly, she traced around the moist pink edges of her mouth with the cool certainty of a woman who knew exactly the effect she had on a man.
The overhead florescent hallway lighting slanted a shaft of illumination across her face. He looked down at her and was surprised to see a glimpse of sadness in her eyes. Tender feelings rose up in him. Feelings he’d never felt before and didn’t understand.
As they stared into each other’s eyes, the air leaked from their lungs in a simultaneous exhale.
Liam knew he was a goner. His gaze beaded on her lips. Lips he yearned to kiss again. He leaned forward, resting his arm on the wall above her head. Not thinking, just wanting.
Katie didn’t pull away. She was so near he could feel the heat of her skin. If they weren’t standing in the corridor of Sharper Designs, he would have kissed her.
They stared at one another with an astonishing mix of surprise, delight and stark sexual heat. He had to have her. Tony was right. The only way he was ever going to get Katie out of his system was to embrace his desires and find a way to charm this bedazzling woman into his bed.
“I’m coming back on Friday. Around one o’clock,” he said. “That gives you three days to come up with an art design for my condos. Do you think you can handle it?”
She lifted her chin. “I can handle it.”
“Oh, and there’s one other thing.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“I’m expecting to have my socks blown off.”
5
“ARE YOU SURE it has to be cold turkey?” Katie asked Tanisha after Liam had left Sharper Designs and they were in their office again. “Can’t I sort of taper off impulsive sex?”
“Absolutely not. It’s like when you’ve convinced yourself you’re only going to have one Oreo cookie and you end up scarfing down the whole box.”
“You are a tough taskmaster,” Katie grumbled.
“It’s for your own good,” Tanisha said sagely. “Builds character.”
“Sure, I’d like to see how good you’d be at giving up sex.”
“I’m not the one who was caught doing the deed with the wrong man at a masquerade party.”
“Touché.” Yes, while initially Liam might have been the wrong man, Katie found herself wondering if fate, in its roundabout way, might have actually dealt her the right man.
She thought of how he’d stared at her when she’d called him out into the hallway for their private chat. How very close his lips had been to hers. She felt hot and bothered all over. But before she had time to fully ride that train of thought Max marched into the office.
“Winfield,” he barked.
“Yes, sir?”
“I don’t have to tell you what landing the James account means to this firm.”
“No, sir.”
“And if making you art director is what it takes to seal the deal, then of course, I’m agreeing to it.”
“Uh-huh.”
“But I’m not happy about this development. I don’t know what you’ve got going on with Liam-”
“Sir, let me assure you, there’s nothing going on,” Katie said.
Max snorted. “Please, I saw the way the man was staring at you. If nothing is going on yet, then he’s looking to start something up.”
Katie’s face heated. Was their attraction that obvious? “Nothing’s going on,” she reiterated. Hadn’t she just turned over a new leaf?
Max impatiently waved away her denial. “Here it is. I don’t know what’s happening with you two and I really don’t care. All I care is that you pull off this campaign to his satisfaction. Personally, I don’t think you’re ready for the art-director position. You’re too young, too unmotivated.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but Max cut her off. “I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt. Do well with this project and the promotion will be permanent. But if you screw this up, you’re out on your can. Got it?”
“Got it.” She resisted the urge to salute.
“As long as we’re clear on this. Now, get to work.” Max turned and stalked out of the office.
Katie slumped down in her chair. Talk about pressure.
She only had three measly days to come up with a design plan that would blow Liam’s socks off. If she wanted to keep her job, she had to make sure their attraction stayed firmly under control.
How to accomplish both goals?
She spent the remainder of the workday pondering the question. On the way to her car that evening, she passed by the pet shop and noticed that the cocker spaniel was still in the window. The minute the pup spied her, he went up on his hind legs, pushing his front paws up against the glass, tail wagging madly.
“Hey, boy.” She greeted him.
The pup barked.
Katie started to back up.
He barked louder.
Katie’s heart melted. She cupped her hands around her eyes, pressed her face to the glass. The lights were on inside and she saw customers moving around. The store was still open.
The quaint silver bell over the door tinkled welcomingly as Katie stepped inside. The woman behind the counter greeted her with a New Englander’s slow, syllabled “Hey-ya.”
“Hello.” Katie smiled at the woman, but her eyes were on the puppy. She leaned over the barrier keeping the cocker penned in the window and tickled her fingers over his soft fur. The puppy licked Katie’s hand with his warm, wet tongue.
Katie giggled.
It would be so easy to fall in love with him.
Like there’s any room in your life for a pet. You, who’ve killed every houseplant you’ve ever owned.
Yes, but she was doing things differently now. No more late-night partying. No more random hookups. No more impromptu weekend trips out of town. There would be room in her new lifestyle for a puppy.
It was a nice thought.
Better make sure the changes stick before you rush headlong into buying a dog.
Yes, just because she was giving up men didn’t mean she could use a puppy as a substitute. Sighing wistfully, she left the pet shop.
Twenty minutes later, she walked through the door of her condo, the daily mail tucked under her arm. She kicked off her stilettos in the foyer, tossed her sweater over the back of a kitchen chair, then made a beeline for the refrigerator and the leftover dim sum takeout Tanisha had brought over the night before.
She heated the food in the microwave and ate standing over the sink as she leafed through the stack of mail. Catalog, catalog, bill, circular. She tossed those aside, but stopped when she came to a jazzy pink envelope with her name embossed with gold foil calligraphy.
Hmm, what was this?
It looked interesting. She glanced at the return address, saw it was from a nightclub called Chassys. Frowning, Katie tore into the envelope, trying to remember if she’d ever been to this bar.
Dear Ms. Winfield,
You are invited to join Martinis and Bikinis. We are a social club offering group encouragement and support for women seeking personal growth and empowerment through pushing themselves outside their comfort zone.
You are exactly the kind of member we’re looking for.
Smart, educated, influential. If you’re interested in joining our group, we meet the first Thursday of every month at Chassys nightclub. Please find driving directions enclosed. We’re looking forward to meeting you.
Sincerely,
Lindsay Beckha
m
President, Martinis and Bikinis
How timely. It was as if this Lindsay Beckham person had read her mind. Empowerment and personal growth. That was exactly what she needed right now.
And the Martinis and Bikinis’ next meeting was this Thursday.
What did she have to lose? She might as well go. Who knew? This group might be the thing she needed to stick with her new plan to tread the straight and narrow.
WHEN THURSDAY evening rolled around, Katie dressed in black slacks, a blue-and-white angora sweater, black boots and modest gold jewelry. Following the driving directions that accompanied the invitation, she ended up in an older neighborhood of South Boston, currently undergoing an economic resurgence.
Chassys was located at 431 Beaumont Street in an older brick building next door to the Yarn Barn. Just a few buildings down from a brand-new Starbucks. Here, apartments were located over most of the shops, restaurants and nightclubs. After circling the crowded block a couple of times, she found a parking spot on a side street and walked back to the bar. Her boots clacked with a clear, determined sound against the uneven sidewalk.
This is it. The fresh start to my new life. Viva female empowerment.
It was a high-traffic area. This time of the evening, there were lots of couples and groups of young singles milling about. The area was a far cry from the upscale establishments she normally frequented.
But when she pushed through the mahogany-paneled door, Katie stepped into a dazzling oasis. Chassys was unexpectedly classy. The furnishings were sleek, new and thoroughly modern.
The floor was constructed of a cherry hardwood, the bar and tabletops dark granite. The barstools were black leather with chrome trim. White Japanese lanterns hung from the ceiling, offering lots of subtle lighting. Chic, atmospheric music filtered in through a state-of-the art sound system, setting the mood with a rhythmic beat.
The bar was packed with a hip, lively crowd and Katie, who was usually right at home in nightclub hot spots, suddenly felt intimidated. Clutching the invitation in her hand, she inched her way through the crowd and headed for the bar.
“What can I get you?” asked the hunky, dark-haired bartender in black denim and a black T-shirt, who had to shout to be heard over the humming throng. Any other time, Katie might have been inclined to tease him. But she’d put aside her flirtatious ways.
