Sex, Lies and Designer Shoes

by Kimberly Van Meter

  That’s right, Rian Dalton...two can play games but only one is going to win.

  Me.

  7

  OH, HELL, SAVE ME.

  Rian loved women of all shapes and sizes but CoCo had a body that made him forget about all others. And she was using it against him. There was only one way to handle the situation and it was with swift action. He rose from the bed and scooped up the towel, going straight to her with purpose while she backed away, smiling in a way that made his groin tighten, but he wasn’t going to let his dick run the show. He tried to keep his gaze on her face but, damn, he was only human, and those breasts were something of a national treasure.

  “Like what you see?” she asked.

  “Seen ’em before,” he said evenly, impressed that he was able to keep his voice calm. “It’s not like you haven’t put them on display before.” Then he roughly wrapped the towel around her, relieved as hell when he could no longer see those luscious pink nipples pointing straight at him, begging him to suck and nip. God help him, he was only human. “That’s not going to work on me, CoCo,” he told her, and she just laughed because she didn’t believe him. Who could blame her? He was practically pinning her to the wall with his boner. “Now get dressed and don’t do that again.”

  “Well, I suppose we could stay in...” CoCo said suggestively and his jaw tightened. “What? Did you take a vow of celibacy like a Tibetan monk?”

  “No. I just don’t mess around with clients.”

  “Hmm, well, that sounds terribly boring. Fine, then, if we’re not going to mess around, as you put it, then I’m going back to my original plan. I’m going out.”

  “You’re staying put. You can watch some boob tube.” The moment the careless words fell from his mouth he cringed. He couldn’t have picked a sorrier choice of words given the fact that he’d just gotten an eyeful of the most amazing breasts he’d ever laid eyes on. Now she was going to think he was obsessed with her boobs. Even if he was, that was private information and not something he was likely to come out and admit. “You know what I mean,” he said, gesturing to the old television. He wasn’t even sure it worked. Please, God, let there be cable.

  “Sorry, not a big boob tube fan,” she said with a saucy grin. “I’m going out. You can either come or stay. Your choice but I am not staying in this hovel a minute longer than I have to.”

  He started to shoot her down but she dropped that damn towel again and he lost all the thoughts in his head. He glared as she scooped up her clothes and returned to the bathroom, knowing full well she was giving him a long, hard look at her ass, and then shut the door with barely contained laughter.

  That woman, he was fairly certain, was made by the devil to tempt him into throwing away his career.

  And right now, he was having a hard time remembering why he made it a rule to never sleep with clients.

  Because at the moment...staying in and getting to know each other a helluva lot better was beginning to have a ton of appeal.

  That was a problem.

  “Fine!” he bit out. “But only for a little while. We’re not staying out late, you hear me?”

  “We’ll stay out for as long as I want.”

  “You’re really pushing my buttons, princess,” he snarled and she laughed because she already knew there was nothing he could do about it. He had no doubt that if he refused her demand to go out, she’d make his life miserable by trying to seduce him, and in the current state he was in, she damn well might succeed, so he had no choice but to take her out.

  Well, this was a fine mess.

  How in the hell had CoCo gotten the upper hand in this? He shifted his hips to adjust the raging erection in his pants and he smothered a groan. He looked down at the bulge and muttered, “Yeah, it’s all your fault. Thanks a lot.”

  “Be ready in about ten minutes,” she called out in a singsong voice, and his gut clenched again. This was madness but it was either give in or put out.

  He wasn’t sure which would be worse for his state of mind at this point.

  * * *

  COCO FELT A RUSH of feminine power. Rian wasn’t so immune as he liked to put on. He wanted her. She’d been around enough men to know when they were into her. She’d been playing with men since she turned fifteen and had since honed her skills, cutting her teeth on European and American men alike. Rian Dalton was no match for her. Why hadn’t she gone this route in the first place?

  She carefully applied her makeup and dressed in a tiny black dress that hugged her curves and dipped low in the back and she grinned, knowing Rian would be staring at her ass all night. Good. Let him stare. Let him hunger. Maybe if he was lucky, she would let him cop a feel. She’d known that he wouldn’t compromise his integrity for a roll in the hay so she’d been pretty assured that he’d give in to her demand to go out, which he had. Men were so predictable.

  “Just what are you wearing, woman?” Rian demanded, staring hard at her dress. She couldn’t quite tell if he liked it or was appalled. “There’s hardly enough to cover half your body. You can’t go out like that.”

  She laughed. “You like it? It’s one of my favorites.”

  “No, I don’t like it,” he answered, but his gaze said otherwise. Her skin heated at the hunger she saw building behind his eyes. “Don’t you have a jacket or something you could put on over it? The last thing I need is to fend off a legion of horny guys once they catch a glimpse of you in that thing.”

  “Aw, how cute. Would you defend my honor?” she asked demurely and he snorted. She rolled her eyes and grabbed her purse. “And here I thought I was seeing the gentleman in you. Whatever happened to all that Southern charm I hear about? I guess that saying that Southern men know how to treat a lady is totally false.”

  “When I see a lady I’ll let you know,” he retorted and she glared. He gestured to her dress. “Just sayin’.”

  “It’s couture,” she told him with a sniff. The man wouldn’t know high fashion if it bit him in that cute butt.

  “It’s the size of a postage stamp.”

  “Not the point. Humor me...what do you really think?”

  He hesitated and for a second she thought he might fall back on a smart-ass quip but instead he shocked her with an honest answer. “You look damn fine and you know it.” It looked as if his answer had cost him by the way his mouth tightened and his gaze darted, but she warmed at the admission just the same. “Can we go now? Let’s just get this over with,” he growled and she had to suppress a shiver at the way his voice danced on her vertebrae.

  Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to toy with him like this. It seemed she wasn’t entirely immune to him, either.

  It was still a little early to hit the clubs so she suggested cocktails first. “I know a cute little place on West Fifth Street, not too big, where we can get a drink and appetizers before we hit the clubs. I’ll even do you a solid and buy the first round.”

  “I’m not drinking and you shouldn’t, either,” he said, raining on her parade. “This ain’t a vacation.”

  “C’mon, stop being such a stick-in-the-mud. One drink isn’t going to hurt anyone. Besides, you look like you could use a beer or something.”

  He didn’t disagree, which was a point in her favor. “One drink and that’s it,” he finally relented and she silently crowed with victory.

  “Sure. One drink,” she agreed, though she had no plans to stick to that promise. “I think you’ll like this place. It has a real laid-back atmosphere but it’s still classy.”

  “Fine.” He exhaled as if he were being dragged to hell and back for the sake of the job and she decided that they were going to have a good time, whether he liked it or not.

  She snuck a sidelong glance at him and couldn’t stop the smile even as that tiny tingle in the pit of her stomach also rang with a warning. Rian wasn’t
like the guys she was used to hanging around. He didn’t play games, he was a straight shooter and he didn’t hold back when he believed something was wrong.

  But there was something else that she sensed about him—and it was that little bell ringing in her head that she knew she ought to heed.

  Rian had that certain something about him that said when he took a woman to his bed, she didn’t leave until he was thoroughly finished with her.

  She sucked in a sharp breath as her heart skipped a beat. Rian was probably a stallion in the bedroom. She pictured all that hard muscle wrapped around his lean frame and arousal warmed her belly.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, shooting her a concerned look. “You got all flushed.”

  “I’m fine,” she assured him quickly with a believable lie. “Just happy to be getting away from this hotel.”

  Suddenly, she wished Rian would’ve called her bluff. Maybe staying in wouldn’t have been so bad after all...

  8

  ENZO RUBBED AT his chest, trying to ease the ache that seemed to get more intense each time he thought of the situation facing his family. He had no idea who was threatening his family and his business but the fact that the threats had become more violent frightened him more than he wanted to admit.

  “Here are your designs for the upcoming Lusso line,” said Georgina, his personal secretary, as she entered his office. Young and pretty, Georgina was also sharp as a tack and kept his business running smoothly. She was also his lover. She frowned as she noted his distress. “What’s wrong?”

  He sighed and pushed away the paperwork that he’d been staring at but hadn’t actually read a word of. “Nothing, nothing. Yes, let me see the mock-ups,” he said, trying to focus. The Lusso line was his signature design, something that he was proud of, perhaps the pinnacle of his established career, but even the joy of seeing his new shoe line come to fruition wasn’t enough to overshadow the worry in his heart. His thoughts strayed and he exhaled a short breath as he confessed, “My mind is unruly today. Forgive me, my love. Perhaps I can look at these later.”

  “Of course, Enzo,” she said, smiling. He leaned back in his chair and invited her to join him. She promptly settled on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Something is bothering you. Are you worried about the new line? If so, don’t be. It’s your most innovative design yet. People will be clamoring to own an Abelli Lusso.”

  He smiled briefly. If only that were his sole concern. At one time, his business had consumed his life—something he regretted now as it seemed he’d missed out on a lot with CoCo—but today, he was more concerned that the threats were getting more vicious and the most precious thing in his life wasn’t shoes as it turned out. “These threats...they get more cruel, more taunting. What am I supposed to do?”

  “You are doing everything in your power,” Georgina said, not the least bit concerned. “This will blow over and then there will be nothing but people singing your praises for this new line.”

  Ordinarily, he enjoyed Georgina’s flattery, but today it only served to irritate him. “Woman, this is serious. There is more at stake than just the latest shoe design to hit a bloated market,” he said, encouraging her to leave his lap. She slid off with an uncertain expression and he softened. It wasn’t Georgina he was upset with. “My apologies. I am in a terrible mood today. I am, perhaps, feeling my age.” Georgina nodded but she still seemed wounded by his curt words. “Let me make it up to you... Perhaps something to brighten that beautiful neck?”

  “You are too good to me,” Georgina said, casting her gaze demurely before scooping up the plans and hugging them to her bountiful chest. “Please stop worrying. Everything will work out. You will see.”

  Ah, the blind confidence of youth. He wished he was comforted by her assurances. Unlike Georgina, who had nothing to lose, he had everything to lose. He kept their relationship private so it wasn’t public knowledge that they were intimate. Not even CoCo knew of his intimacies with his assistant and he wished to keep it that way. Somehow, he knew his opinionated daughter would have something to say about that and he didn’t wish to hear it. Georgina kept him young, which at his age, he valued more than he should.

  He thought of CoCo’s mother, Azalea, and for a moment lost himself to nostalgia. Perhaps one of his biggest regrets was letting her go. He’d been a brash, hotheaded idiot back then but by the time he’d figured out that he’d screwed up, Azalea had moved on. Burying himself in work had been his salvation. He should’ve worked harder to save his marriage. He should’ve been a more attentive father.

  A single tear snaked down his cheek and he wiped it away in surprise. He wasn’t prone to tears. It was the situation, pressing down on him. He couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

  Hopefully, the FBI found this crazy person before his bad feeling turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy.

  * * *

  ONE DRINK SHOULDN’T be too bad, Rian told himself even though his nerves were drawn taut. That dress was doing terrible things to his resolve and he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes where they belonged. Sweat popped along his brow and he wiped it away before the she-devil bewitching him saw it. That’s all he needed, her knowing that she was doing a number on him. He’d never live it down. He wouldn’t put it past her to prance around naked just to get his goat.

  She sidled up to the bar and he followed after a quick look around the place to get situated. He always made sure he knew where all the exits were in case things went sour. True to her word, the place was small enough, not too crowded and didn’t make him want to leave the second he stepped over the threshold.

  “See? It’s nice, isn’t it?” she prompted him for his opinion and he grunted an answer. “I’ll take that as a yes, though I’m not exactly fluent in caveman.”

  “Yes, it’s fine,” he said, looking to the bartender. “A beer, whatever’s on tap.”

  “Beer? That’s some sophisticated palate you have,” she teased, then said, “How about this...I’ll order for us both.”

  “I like beer,” he said, not trusting her choices. “I don’t like sweet, froufrou drinks.”

  “And you make the assumption that I do? Actually, I’m a whiskey girl. Jameson, actually.” At his open look of surprise she smiled and said, “I got a taste for it when I was traveling abroad in Ireland. Don’t tell my father, though. He’d fall over in a faint. He’s a wine snob.”

  “I don’t mind a shot of Jameson,” he said, gesturing for her to go ahead. “But the deal was one drink.”

  “Well, that was the initial offer. How about a counteroffer?”

  “Such as?” Why was he encouraging her? One drink was all that was sensible. Anything after that was dangerous. But he liked the way her eyes sparkled with mischief and, again, that dress was messing with his head so he humored her. “What’s on the table? It’d better be good.”

  “How about this...we will play a game. We’ll play I’ve Never. If you lose two out of three I’ve Nevers, you have to drink, but if you win, I drink.”

  “That’s not a fair game. I know quite a bit about you, thanks to the tabloids. Plus, how are we supposed to know if either of us is lying?”

  “I’ll be completely honest.” Her devilish smile was damn adorable. “Are you in?”

  Well, hell, this was a bad idea, but he was intrigued. “One round,” he said.

  “Winner chooses if we play again.”

  He laughed. “Okay, prepare to lose, sweetheart.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Ladies first.”

  She wiggled on her bar stool, a happy smile curving her generous lips. “I’ve never...been in a threesome.”

  Her opener was a doozy and it packed a punch. Going straight to questions sexual in nature was like throwing gunpowder on a fire. He licked his lips and chuck
led, the sound a little strained. “You sure you want to go there first?”

  “Is it true or false?” she said and he stifled a groan. How’d that girl manage to make innocent look sexy as hell? “Clock is ticking.”

  “No one said anything about there being a time limit.”

  “Ten seconds.”

  She was a wild thing. At least, according to the tabloids. He took a chance. “False.”

  CoCo laughed and shook her head. “Sorry, haven’t done that. What do you take me for?”

  He laughed, not willing to touch that one with a ten-foot pole. “All right, you got me on that one. Next.”

  “I’ve never...shot a gun.”

  He didn’t hesitate on this one. “True.”

  “Very good. I hate guns.” Her expression turned playfully serious. “Okay, here it goes...answer this one right and I drink...answer wrong and it’s down the hatch the whiskey goes for you.”

  “Hit me. I’m just getting warmed up now.”

  “So confident. Okay, I’ve never...been in love.”

  Oh, that was easy. He couldn’t imagine anyone capturing this girl’s heart. “True,” he answered without a doubt but she shocked him when she shook her head.

  “Sorry...false. I have been in love. Drink up, buddy.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  She met his gaze. “And why not?”

  “Because you don’t seem the type to fall for anyone. You’re like one of those wild birds that would go stir-crazy in a cage.”

  She laughed but there was a slightly sad note to the sound as she said, “Well, you’re wrong. I did fall in love a long time ago. Now drink up.”