Her skin sizzled at the thought and she squirmed in her chair and told herself to behave.
But warnings didn’t help under the glow of fine wine and seductive company. She had grown too mellow for words. Too comfortable to be sharp-witted. Truth be told, she was enjoying herself more than she had in…well, maybe ever.
When Luke brought out a heavily laden tray from the kitchen, she practically salivated over the luscious-looking food. And over the luscious-looking man.
The overheads were dimmed, a single candle was lit and so was she as he set down the tray, placed a tiny baked brie surrounded by grapes between them and slid into the chair opposite her.
“So tell me about this rule of yours,” Luke said, refilling her wineglass.
“Three dates.”
“Three dates and then what?”
“And then nothing. I go on with my life.”
“On to the next man.”
“If one appeals to me, yes.” He appealed to her, but that didn’t mean she was going to do anything about it.
She only dated men she was drawn to physically. He thought the three-date rule meant three strikes and a guy was out, while in her mind it meant three steps to sexual satisfaction. Of course, if there was no sizzle in the first place, physical contact wasn’t an option at all…not that she always acted on the attraction anyway. If a guy looked like an Adonis but acted like a jerk, no amount of sizzle would move her.
But truth be told, she had needs and, unlike Annie, wasn’t willing to go without sex for years until Mr. Right came along…assuming that ever happened. She’d simply resolved to ensure the dating experience suited her needs.
“How curious,” Luke said. “I would love to hear the reasoning behind your dating rule.”
“I’ll bet you would.”
Ignoring the sizzle she felt now, Helen took a bite of the brie in flaky pastry and let the warmed cheese melt in her mouth so she wouldn’t say anything she would regret.
No way would she tell him about the series of college guys who’d wanted her for a trophy girlfriend. Who’d subsequently dumped her for some nice, safe girl that the guy could bring home to mom. She’d been too wild, too honest and open about her feelings, too willing to give a guy her all, especially her heart, only to have it all thrown back at her. Guys had never considered her serious girlfriend material simply because she was too good-looking.
She wouldn’t have believed it if one of her exes hadn’t put it on the line for her. He’d told her that he couldn’t handle that men would always buzz around her because of her looks and, with so much temptation, he simply couldn’t trust her not to stray.
After having her heart broken too many times, she’d decided that she needed to protect herself from further hurt.
She didn’t want to end up like her mother.
“So the question is…do you consider this a date?” Luke asked. “Or is it simply a fact-finding mission?”
“What?”
“Ah, such innocence.” He saluted her and took a bite of cheese, then washed it down with wine.
“I don’t know what this is,” she protested truthfully.
Though he’d guessed her original intention, she was admittedly intrigued by Luke DeVries. He stimulated her in every way possible…but no, she couldn’t let herself go wild with him. He was her nemesis. He was the shark who could put her out of business.
Might purposely drive her out of business.
And yet…
He didn’t seem like the type of man who had to play dirty to get what he wanted. His concept for a winning business was brilliant. Not only this Hot Zone, but the others that she’d read about and he’d mentioned, as well.
As impressed as she was by his unique coffeehouse concept, she was even more impressed by the man himself. She’d always been drawn to creative, talented people, Annie and Nick being prime examples. Luke was right up there, right at the top of the list.
“Since you’re so hung up on those rules of yours, I don’t think we should consider this a date,” he said.
“Really. And why is that?”
“Because then maybe you can relax.”
Helen laughed. “No problem. I couldn’t be more relaxed.”
Yeah, right, like that was really possible with him sitting there, looking good enough to eat. Trying to turn herself off, she pressed her thighs together.
Though she could see by his expression that he thought she was lying, he said, “Good. More wine?”
“I think this is where the serious food part comes in.”
Until now they’d merely nibbled on cheese and grapes. Helen’s mouth watered as Luke took the two plates of lobster salad from the tray and set them on the table, adding a basket of fresh croissants and butter between.
She dug in before asking, “So what did you do before serving up sex with coffee?”
Luke arched a brow at her phrasing. “I worked for Cooper Coffee Company. I was traveling to places like Mexico and Costa Rica and Guatemala to find new organic beans for the company,” he said, then turned the conversation back on her. “What made you decide to open your own business?”
“Burnout. Being a corporate Web mistress is a full-time job. And I really mean full-time. Sometimes eighty hours a week. I figured if I wasn’t going to have much of a personal life, I might as well be working for myself instead of someone else.”
“Corporate Web mistress? You were kind of young for that much responsibility, weren’t you?”
“An industry baby, yes, but computers always interested me, from the time I was a kid.”
“So what was the final straw that made you give up a regular paycheck?”
“More like a challenge by the name of Nick Novak. He was the guy shooting footage of the protest this morning.”
“Aha,” he said knowingly.
“No ‘aha’ about it. Nick and Annie and I have been best buddies since college. All three of us were working too hard and were disillusioned about ever having a real life again. No downtime and we weren’t even working for ourselves,” she said, remembering how unhappy she’d become at her job. “When Cornerstone Realty renovated the six-corners building, Nick jumped at the chance to rent space and start his own business. And he dared Annie and me to jump with him. And we did.” Realizing she was telling him more than she wanted to, Helen quickly shifted the topic to the cuisine. “This lobster is divine, by the way.”
“Only the best for a beauti—woman like you,” he finished. “But why a coffeehouse?”
Helen realized Luke had stopped himself from calling her beautiful. Inwardly she was pleased both that he thought she was and that he was sensitive enough to pick up on her earlier reaction. She also realized he was focused when he wanted information, undoubtedly a prime reason for his success.
“The Internet aspect appealed to me,” she told him. “And it gave me the chance to take on some freelance Web clients. I build Web sites at one of the café computers when traffic is slow.”
“So you’re running two businesses?”
“No, just keeping my hand in. I never know when I might have to find a real job again.” She looked at him pointedly.
Luke raised his hands in surrender. “Tell me what I can do to assure you that I have no intentions of driving you out of business.”
“I’m not sure you can.”
“So you don’t trust me.”
“Should I?”
“Yes.”
“Would you trust me if our roles were reversed?” Helen asked. “Be honest now.”
“I would give you the benefit of the doubt, draw my own conclusions about you rather than accepting what other people say.”
“Other people? What about the media?”
He gave her a look. “Right, newspeople are always reliable. They can sell papers and TV ads with boring facts. Have you ever noticed how many stories contain the word ‘alleged’ as if that morally protects them when they go after a story and make it try to sound hot? And then if t
hey find out things weren’t quite what they seemed…well, oops. But their asses are covered.”
Helen couldn’t help gaping at him. Indignation looked good on him. Great, as a matter of fact. And very, very sexy. His hair practically bristled and his features suddenly appeared more rough-cut and his voice took on a tone that sliced through to her very core.
This Luke really turned her on, Helen realized, squirming in her chair.
The charmer was lovely but aroused her suspicions. A cover, she thought. An act. A way to get people to trust him. Most people. Not her, though. She might be physically attracted to the polished Luke DeVries, but—a straight shooter herself—she thought she liked the rough-hewn man a whole lot better.
“Enough pontificating,” he muttered, digging into his food and hiding his real self once more.
Helen figured there was a story behind his public persona. She only wished she was privy to it. But what did it matter, really? They weren’t on a date. They were both on fact-finding missions.
Proven by Luke himself when he asked, “I’m curious as to why you waited so long to stage the protest against Hot Zone in this location. Why not when you first heard about it, rather than right before the opening?”
“I wasn’t paying attention,” she admitted. “I was preoccupied with a new business, and then my friends had personal problems.” Dangerous problems, but thankfully they’d come out unscathed. “By the time I found out that Hot Zone was opening…” she shrugged, “it was a done deal.”
“Then why bother?”
“Hope.”
Hope that, no matter what, her business would survive. The picketing had really come too late, but she hadn’t known how else to attack. To protect her interests. Thankfully, Luke didn’t press her but let the subject drop.
Dessert was simple—chocolate flan. One taste and Helen was in heaven. But the real treat was the special coffee topped with a dollop of whipped cream that Luke made for them. She took a sniff.
“Chocolate…almond…and…?”
“Coconut. We call it Hot Bliss in the stores, but personally I think of it as an Orgasm.”
Taking a sip, she nearly choked. “Orgasm?”
“Don’t you feel it?” he asked, his expression suspiciously innocent.
Which had her scoping out Luke even more intently. He seemed attracted to her, so would he make a move? He’d said not to count this as a date, so maybe not. She couldn’t help but think about it as she carefully licked her spoon clean and wondered what it would be like to lick him instead.
The thought built an uncomfortable tension as she continued to wonder how this evening would end.
While Luke cleared the table—he refused to let her help him—Helen walked around the spa area, noting the You Must Wear A Swimsuit At All Times warning posted near the hot tub and sauna areas. She raised her eyebrows and wondered how many people would be tempted to ignore the sign.
Two back-massage chairs were set out, ready for clients. She’d had full body massages many times, but never one of these.
Thinking that if her old corporation had provided tension releasers for its employees, she might never have quit, Helen slipped into the seat and leaned forward, her knees, chest and elbows resting on upholstered pads, and imagined having someone work out her physical tension after a long, tiring day.
She closed her eyes a minute and imagined fingers smoothing the back of her neck.
And then they were…
“Uh, Luke?”
“Hmm?”
“What are you doing?”
“Helping you relax.”
So was that a line or had he recognized her growing discomfort at dinner?
“Are you licensed?” she asked.
“More like experienced. You have a knot right here.”
“Uhhhh.” She moaned as he kneaded the area and a mixture of pleasure and pain filled her. “Something to be said for experience.”
He worked his way higher, up her neck and into her hairline, then down along her spine. She felt her body puddle under his practiced hands.
And then she felt him move behind her and somehow balance himself on the back of the seat. His hands worked their way from her shoulders down to her elbows. His arms had her surrounded, she thought hazily. And slowly she became aware of the erection pressing into her tush.
Her pulse shot up like a rocket and her eyes were wide open as he murmured, “Any other tense places you want me to work out?”
A minute ago she’d been relaxed all over. Now her whole body was tight.
“I think you’ve done enough,” she gasped.
“Have I?” His breath laved the shell of her ear and his warmth pressed into her back. “I’ll stop if you want, just say the word.”
He was working on her hands now, thumbs pressing into her palms and, one by one, muscles everywhere let go. Feeling his arms flex against hers, Helen opened her mouth to tell him that he could stop now, but nothing came out.
Date or not, they’d skipped the first stage and proceeded directly to the second.
Luke slid his hands up to her elbows then moved to her bared waist. The crop top gave him free access to her abs, and he worked on them, slowing his upward progress just beneath her breasts.
“Shall I stop now?” Luke murmured.
Helen moaned and leaned back against him and away from the chest pad. “No.”
And when he moved higher, she arched so that her breasts filled his hands. His thumbs caressed her already distended nipples through the thin silk covering them. Heaven help her, she was so turned on she’d lost all her good sense.
Helen moaned and her lashes fluttered closed and she imagined Luke touching her everywhere with the same intimacy. She imagined her body vibrating like a fine instrument being tuned.
As if Luke could read her mind, he slid one of his hands slowly downward. “Tell me when to stop.”
In response she pressed her tush slightly against his erection. His turn to moan. He pressed back and when she gasped “More!” he plunged the wandering hand into her slacks and found her sweet spot through the already wet silk covering her.
Helen gasped with pleasure, and the next moment he shifted behind her so that he could hook a hand behind her neck and turn her slightly and take her mouth. Mindlessly, she kissed him and drew his tongue deeper as he continued to stroke her below. His finger parted her folds through the material and found her center.
Helen thought it the most erotic sensation she’d ever experienced. Moving against his hard-on, she longed to touch him, as well, but since they were precariously balanced on the equipment, undue movement might prove disastrous. But Luke wasn’t complaining. He was pressing into her and she could hear his breathing deepen. Then she felt him harden and lengthen even further through their clothing.
Wanting nothing more than to turn and take his erection into her mouth, she couldn’t act on the desire, could only imagine the taste and texture of him. But the fantasy of it and the repeated pressure of his finger sliding against her clit was enough to make the trembling start deep inside.
“If you don’t stop that, I’m going to come,” she gasped.
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
He nipped at the flesh between shoulder and neck and increased the pressure below. Helen was helpless to fight going over the edge. He kissed her again and she came in long waves of pleasure.
When the shuddering stopped, Luke wrapped his arms around her middle, nuzzled the side of her neck and supported her boneless body, murmuring, “Now you’re relaxed.”
THROUGH NARROWED EYES, she watched them exit Hot Zone. Too absorbed in one another, their bodies practically vibrating with some intensity, they didn’t see her standing in the shadows on the other side of the street.
She tried to read their body language, tried to get a hold on what was going on between them. Anger? No, not anger exactly. Attraction? Some combination of both?
For a moment, fury seared her.
After all
she’d done for him…how dare he!
No, no, be reasonable, a little voice said. This is nothing. Meaningless. Doesn’t matter in the big scheme of things.
She took a shaky breath and faced facts. Luke was all man, after all, and until she was in his personal life for good, she would have to expect some slips. That’s all this was, she assured herself, following their progress down the street.
She didn’t have to worry about Helen Rhodes. His women never lasted in his life, not like she did. She’d been there for him since he’d started Hot Zone.
Before.
He owed everything to her.
All the success. The money. The media.
Everything.
Once he understood that, all would fall into place and her life would be perfect.
3
“I WOULD SAY this counted as a date,” Helen stated as they headed away from Hot Zone the way they arrived—on foot.
“How do you get that?” Luke asked, waiting for his hard-on to roll over and play dead. How the hell was that supposed to happen when the cause was bumped up against his side, ripe and apparently ready for anything? “I thought we agreed this was no more than a fact-finding mission.”
Why the semantics worried him, he had no clue. Maybe he simply liked arguing with her, which certainly was a perverted kind of turn-on.
“This way,” she said, turning up the block when they got to the next corner. “What started as fact-finding ended as sex.”
“We didn’t have sex,” he stated.
“Excuse me?”
“Foreplay doesn’t count.”
“Orgasms do.”
“Unless you count the beverage kind, I didn’t have one,” he reminded her.
“And that’s my fault?”
“No, darlin’, I take full credit for that omission.”
“So why didn’t you…”
“Have my way with you? Because it wasn’t a date. I was simply trying to get you to loosen up and things got a tad out of hand. Or in hand as the case may be,” he said with a chuckle. “That was simply spontaneous combustion…mostly on your part.”
Though he felt ready to explode. The idea of being inside her was heating his blood, and he figured it was doing the same to Helen. Not that she was being open or obvious about what he was sure she wanted as much as he did. And he planned to give her what she wanted before this night was through. He would have given it to her already—several times if he could credit his imagination—but something had kept him from pushing too far, too fast.
Hot Zone Page 3
