by Jo Leigh
“Too predictable?”
“By far. Convincing her you’re good for anything more than a hot time between the sheets is going to take some thought and effort on your part.”
Liam blew out his breath. “You make it sound like I don’t stand a chance.”
“She’s going to be a challenge for you, but come on. When have you ever shied away from a challenge? Just put the same effort into pursuing Katie that you’ve always put into buying and selling property then you’ll be A-OK. Throw the woman a curve ball or two.”
Easy enough for him to say, Tony knew how to chill out and have a good time. Liam was fighting against thirty-one years of hard work and determination to get ahead at all costs.
Think, think. What can you do to delight Katie? What will keep her guessing?
Just as they finished the last leg of their run, inspiration hit. Liam knew exactly what he was going to send that would both intrigue and surprise her.
M AKE LOVE in a forbidden place.
Katie read the Martini dare she’d tucked into the corner of her dresser mirror as she sat at her vanity wrapping her hair around a curling iron.
She’d been anxious all afternoon getting ready for this business dinner with Liam. She’d gone to the mall, bought a new dress and new pair of shoes. She’d had a manicure and a facial. She skipped both breakfast and lunch because she was too nervous to eat. She was acting as if it were a date.
It is a date.
No, it was a business meeting.
So then how come no one else on the creative team was invited?
Yeah, why was that?
He wants you, you want him, go for it.
“But I’m turning over a new leaf. Giving up casual sex, going cold turkey,” Katie said aloud to her reflection.
And then her gaze strayed to the parchment again. Make love in a forbidden place.
Why did it have to be cold turkey? Why couldn’t she sort of taper off? Plenty of people used the patch to wean themselves off smoking. Couldn’t the three Martini dares serve as Katie’s swan song for casual sex?
Liam was the perfect person to perform her dares with, she convinced herself. They were attracted to each other. He was temporary, only in her life for as long as it took to oversee the graphic designs for his campaign. Plus, they’d already made love, so by continuing their affair she was actually taking it out of the realm of one-night stands.
She loosened her grip on the curling iron and the warm curl escaped to fall gently across her cheek. She picked up a second strand of hair and twisted it around the heated rod.
The memory of what had happened in his apartment the afternoon before popped into her head. She remembered the feel of his lips, the pleasure of his tongue.
And then she thought of the way he’d looked at her. No, not at her…into her, as if he could see straight to her soul. Past the wild-child image she projected. Past the carefree persona she’d perfected. Past the clothes and the parties and jokes to the wounded woman who’d lost both her parents before she was twenty-five. To the girl who’d always felt as if she had to show others a good time in order to be loved and appreciated.
Katie shivered and pushed that disturbing thought away. She didn’t want to examine it too closely. She had other things on her mind.
Make love in a forbidden place.
“I’ll do it,” she whispered to her reflection in the mirror. “I’m going to use Liam to complete my Martini dares.”
Just saying the words made her feel empowered. Yes. This was good. This was exactly what she was looking for.
But is it fair to use Liam for your own personal empowerment?
The doorbell rang, interrupting her internal seesaw. She turned off the curling iron, got up and padded to the door. She peered through the peephole and spied a bike messenger standing on her front step. She put the chain on and opened the door a crack.
“Special delivery,” he called. “You gotta sign for it.”
What was this? Katie was a city girl who knew how to take care of herself. “Who’s it from?”
“Mr. Liam James.”
Magic words.
Katie signed for the package, then almost ripped it out of the delivery guy’s hands. Her curiosity was piqued. What had Liam sent her?
She tore off the brown paper to reveal a rectangular white box with the name of a famous jewelry store embossed in red letters on the lid. Her heart thumped.
Jewelry? The gift was presumptuous. Jewelry implied strings were attached to their relationship and she certainly wasn’t interested in getting tied to anything. She suddenly felt claustrophobic, as if the walls of her condo were closing in.
Maybe she should reconsider her decision to use Liam as the means to complete her Martini dares.
Tentatively, she slid the lid off the box and peered inside to find…
A dog collar?
The dude had sent her a dog collar.
Albeit a very handsome dog collar. Made of black leather and studded with blue onyx and faux diamond rhinestones. When she lifted it out of the box, the stones glistened in the light.
At the bottom of the box lay a small card. She plucked it out and read the message that had been printed in strong, masculine block script.
Dear Katie,
For when you’re ready to claim Duke as your own. Looking forward to seeing you tonight.
Liam
P.S. You’d make a terrific dog owner.
A dog collar for a puppy she didn’t even own? It was a strange gift, but she found the gesture incredibly touching because Liam had paid attention. And he’d understood both her desire to own a dog and her anxiety over such a commitment.
A wistful feeling swept over her-part longing, and part…hope.
The fact that Liam had gone to all the trouble to pick out this dog collar and have it couriered over stirred something deep. He could have sent generic flowers or candy or nothing at all. But instead, he’d sent the one thing that said I believe in you.
She was moved.
The gift spoke volumes. Clearly, tonight was not just a business meeting.
Katie had a date with Boston’s most eligible bachelor.
7
“THANK YOU for the dog collar,” Katie told Liam when he came to pick her up. “It was very thoughtful.”
“I wanted to encourage you to get that puppy, if that’s what you really want.”
“I don’t know that I want a dog that badly, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Don’t want it? Or too afraid to want it?” Liam challenged.
Damn, being with this guy wasn’t easy. He didn’t let her slide on anything. She darted a quick glance at him. He was standing in her foyer, gorgeous as all get-out.
He wore a black pullover V-necked sweater and a pair of formfitting black trousers. The wind had sexily tousled his well-groomed hair, giving him a relaxed look she found appealing.
Her gaze tracked over his face, soaking up his chiseled cheekbones and strong chin. She noticed that the bridge of his nose was crooked, bent slightly to the right as if once it had been broken.
Liam looked so different from the pampered playboys she normally dated. His life experience was evident not only in the sharp focus of his intelligent hazel eyes and the out-of-character tattoo at his left wrist, but also in the powerful way he carried himself, in the commanding way he spoke.
This was a man of substance.
She was surprised to find the observation made her edgy. Very edgy. Suddenly, all her self-confidence evaporated. What did she know about pleasing a high-powered businessman who’d bootstrapped his way to the top of his profession by age thirty? And she was a woman who’d been born with a blue-blooded spoon in her mouth.
His standards were high. He was a self-made millionaire, well on his way to becoming a billionaire. He was everything she was not. Logical, responsible, dedi
cated, driven.
Was that why he fascinated her so? Because she could never hope to understand what made him tick?
A smile tipped his lips and as his eyes met hers, his face lit up. He looked as if the Dow Jones had jumped twenty points.
Katie’s heart fluttered. He had the power to make her feel special. It was disconcerting, to say the least.
“Wow, you look amazing.” The appreciative expression in his eyes went a long way in reviving her poise and earning him bonus points for noticing the special care that she’d taken with her appearance.
Approvingly, his gaze traveled from her fresh new hairstyle, across the swell of the tight bodice of her aqua dress to the hemline that hit her midthigh to the three-inch stilettos that enhanced the shapely curve of her lean legs.
Noticing everything. Missing nothing. Making her feel very desirable.
“Thank you,” she said, and tried not to blush at his frank assessment.
“Are you ready to get down to business?” His hazel eyes smoldered with a mesmerizing sexuality that pushed all the air from her lungs.
“Business?”
“You do have your designs with you.”
“Yes, yes,” she said breathlessly. Oh, she’d almost forgotten about the designs.
“Good,” he said. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve come up with.”
“I hope you like them.”
“I have confidence in you.” He winked.
He took her to Carmine’s Ristorante, a quaint family-owned Italian restaurant off the beaten path, but not far from Boston’s north end. It wasn’t the sort of place she expected a real-estate mogul to frequent. That alone impressed her.
He’d opened the door for her, lightly placing his hand at the small of her back to guide her over the threshold.
The pressure of his hand had her sucking in her breath. She didn’t know what to make of his proprietary touch or the way her skin tingled.
Her pulse leaped and instantly a dozen erotic images from the night of the Ladies League ball popped into her head. She heard the clatter of coat hangers, the sounds of their delighted groans. She smelled the scent of their merged bodies, musky and rich. She tasted the sweet flavor of sin on her tongue.
“Hello, Mr. James,” greeted the attractive, overeager young hostess. “We’ve got your usual table waiting.”
The hostess led them through the brightly lit dining room to a table in the corner. Katie wondered if he often brought dates here. It didn’t seem like a regular date place. No singing waiters. No candles in Chianti bottles. No private booths to hide away from the crowd. Most of the tables seated six or more and they all seemed to be filled with families or groups of coworkers or friends on an outing.
Maybe this really was a business meeting.
The man was sending mixed messages and she wasn’t sure how to read him. Her interest notched higher. Who was Liam James behind his reputation and his stunning success? What had made him the man he was today?
“I hope this place is okay,” he said anxiously. “It’s not trendy, but the owner and his family are friendly and the food is great.”
He was trying so hard in that moment, as if her approval meant a lot. He’s as nervous as I am, she realized with a start. She was touched that he cared enough to be nervous.
“Did the Young Bostonian article drive you underground?” she said. “Or do you always prefer to frequent out-of-the-way places?”
“You saw that article,” he said, pulling her chair out for her.
She sat down and slid her briefcase under the table. “Oh, indeed. Who could miss it? Impressive piece about Boston’s premiere hotshot multimillionaire. You’ve got the buzz, babe.”
He sat down across from her. A look of embarrassment crossed his face. “It’s a lot of hype.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
The waiter came over. Liam ordered a bottle of modestly priced white wine and antipasto as an appetizer. He wasn’t trying to impress her. Why not?
Katie was confused. She knew he was attracted to her, but he wasn’t pulling out all the stops. What was the deal?
The waiter returned with their wine and the antipasto plate heaped with buffalo mozzarella, salami, black olives, sun-dried tomato relish and thin slices of toasted garlic-bread rounds.
“Are you ready to order your main course?” the waiter asked.
“Oops,” Katie said. “I haven’t even looked at the menu.” Because she’d been too busy looking at Liam.
“They have excellent veal marsala,” he suggested.
“Veal marsala it is,” she said, and passed her menu to the waiter and thanked him.
Once the waiter had gone, she leaned in closer. The scent of Liam’s cologne mingled with the delicious smell of the antipasto. It was a bracing fragrance, hearty and substantial. “Thank you for bringing me here. I adore Italian food. It’s my favorite.”
“Mine, too.”
Strange. She’d pegged him as a sushi lover or maybe upscale French cuisine. Mr. Young Bostonian, and all that.
“Why don’t we take a look at the mock-ups while we eat?” she said. “Kill two birds with one stone.”
“Actually,” he said, reaching across the table to rest his hand on hers to stop her from reaching for her briefcase, “I have a confession to make.”
“A confession?” She studied him, still thrown by the mixed messages he was sending. It wasn’t often that any male knocked her off-kilter.
Using the food as an excuse, she slipped her hand out from under his and reached for a toast round, scooping a spoonful of the sun-dried tomato relish onto the garlic bread.
“This dinner isn’t strictly business.”
“No?” She chased the antipasto with a measured swallow of wine but never took her gaze from his face.
“Surely you knew it was pretext.” His smile was positively wicked and spiked up the heat already invading Katie’s body. “We could have had the business meeting at Sharper Designs on Monday.”
They stared at each other across the table.
“Listen,” they said in unison, then both broke off, chuckling.
“Why don’t you go ahead and show me the designs you’ve come up with?” Liam said. “Let’s get the business portion of this meeting over with so we can-”
“Get down to the pleasure?” Katie impishly finished for him.
“That wasn’t what I was going to say.”
“No,” she countered, “I’m certain you’d planned on being much more diplomatic.”
“You think I’m a stuffed shirt?”
“I think that’s the image you portray, but I know better. I’ve seen the real you in action.”
His face flushed. “You’re referring to the Ladies League ball.”
“I am.” She lowered her eyelashes.
“That’s not the real me. You just caught me on a bad night.”
“Not from my point of view.” She winked. “I thought you were very, very good that night.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I took advantage of you.”
“That’s not the way I recall it. In my memory, I clearly took advantage of you.”
“Either way, it was a life-altering experience for me.”
“How’s that?”
“Ever since that night I’ve been unable to think about anything but you.”
“Really?” she said.
“Believe me, that’s not normal.”
“Way to flatter a girl,” she teased, “telling her it’s not normal to be wanted.”
“That’s not what I mean…” He pressed a palm to the back of his neck, chuffed out a breath. “I’m handling this badly.”
She studied his face, clean-shaven, honest, aboveboard. If this had been the Middle Ages, he most certainly would have been a dutiful knight, stalwart and well-intentioned.
Somethi
ng scary shifted inside her. Maybe she shouldn’t try her Martini dare on him. He was too nice of a guy and she didn’t want to hurt him. “Liam, I…”
“Yes?”
The way he was looking at her caused her feminine sex to clench with a swift squeeze of ravenous need. A deep-seated tightening of desire. She had to have him, never mind the costs.
Befuddled by lust, she dropped her gaze, fumbled blindly for her briefcase, heard her heart pounding blood rapidly through her ears. “I…I’ve got your proposal right here. I’ve gotta warn you, the designs are a bit racy, but you did say you wanted sex.”
The word sex hung in the air, as provocative as heavy breathing.
Unnerved, Katie pushed aside the appetizer plate, scooted her chair closer so they could both see it and placed the file folder on the table between them. “Obviously we’re appealing to young, urban professionals with a high income.”
“Obviously,” he agreed, and leaned over her shoulder. The warmth of his breath fanned the hairs along the nape of her neck.
She flipped open the file, then looked at him to gauge his initial reaction to the graphics of her mock-up.
Suddenly, she understood exactly how much she wanted his approval.
Liam tilted his head to study the photograph with interest, but his face remained unreadable. Damn him and his perfect self-control.
In the ad, a lithe young woman was stepping naked from a patio hot tub underneath a starlit sky. She was holding a white terry cloth towel in her hand that barely covered her explicit parts.
Seated on a lawn chair, in the dark, at the far end of the patio was a man equally as naked, his explicit bits hidden in the shadow cast by a glistening chrome barbecue grill. The man’s eyes were hooked on the woman, the unmistakable signs of feral lust on his face.
The woman was as blond as Katie, the man as dark-haired as Liam. The setting was totally intimate. The choice of models and setting had not been accidental. She’d worked very hard to create an erotic, atmospheric draft that was still subtle enough for mainstream media. It had been a tricky balance, getting the right play of light, capturing the seductive interplay without going over the top.
