Hardball
Page 13
Holly rushed to pick up the ringing phone, even though she was in the middle of trying to snap her stockings into her garter belt.
“Hey, Holly, it’s Nate. How are you?”
She thought she detected a bit of brusqueness in his voice. “Great,” she lied. “How was the golf?”
“I stunk, but it was a good group. We had fun.”
“Are you already on your way? I can be ready in twenty minutes, maybe less.” She glanced down at the dress spread out across her bed.
“Don’t rush. I’m just leaving the course now. I figure I should be at your house in about forty minutes if the traffic’s not too bad.”
She had to push back a little disappointment that he’d be so late. After all, she’d raced to pull herself together in anticipation of his call. It had been a hell of a rough day at work, starting with that soul-searing meeting with Lance Arnold. Later in the afternoon, she’d discussed what to do about the situation with Dr. Rosen. The chief had been supportive, but finally recommended that she continue to cut the guy some slack, given the circumstances. She’d reluctantly agreed. Hopefully Arnold would come around once he cooled off, but the negative effects of the day still lingered.
On top of that, the prospect of meeting Nate’s friends in such a public setting made her anxious. She never liked feeling on display, and being with a celebrity would pretty much guarantee that she would be. But Nate seemed like the kind of man who would make sure she had a good time, and Holly thought she needed that desperately. Stressing about his late arrival would surely defeat the purpose of the whole evening.
“That’s perfect. See you soon.” She hung up, finished with her stockings, and slid the sleeveless, terracotta-colored silk dress over her head. She took care not to disturb the shiny mass of hair that she had swept back from her face and styled to fall in soft waves around her shoulders. Stepping into a pair of black stiletto heels, she reached behind her back to pull up the zipper of the dress. Normally, she couldn’t wear heels that high, but Nate was so tall that for once she didn’t have to worry about towering over her date.
If it was a date.
Finally ready, she gave her dress one last inspection in the bedroom’s full-length mirror. Its fitted bodice shaped her chest, and the full skirt flared out from her waist in a swirl of glimmering silk. In this outfit, she felt confident enough to face anyone, even the famous Nate Carter and his friends.
When the doorbell finally rang, Holly stuck her eye against the spyhole just to make sure it was him. Nate stood on her front porch, hands in his pockets, looking like he’d walked off the cover of some men’s fashion magazine. She leaned her forehead against the door for just a second. She actually felt a little light-headed.
Shaking away the crazy sensation, she opened the door.
For a moment, Nate didn’t say a word. He stood there and did a slow appraisal, a leisurely up-and-down movement of his eyes as he took her in from head to toe.
“Well?” she ventured, feeling intensely shy.
He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips for a lingering kiss. “You look as beautiful as a summer sunrise, Holly. The way your hair tumbles down onto your shoulders makes that amazing dress even more perfect on you.”
She blinked at the unexpected flowery compliment, wondering how many other women he’d practiced on before he’d perfected a fluid line like that.
Stop it, Holly. Take the compliment!
“That’s a beautiful thing to say, Nate. And you look fantastic yourself.”
She was no expert on men’s clothes, but a true expert had tailored Nate’s lightweight gray suit. It draped his long, lean body perfectly. A black shirt, open at the neck, and black Italian-looking loafers complemented the suit. The outfit accentuated his rugged, tanned features, and Holly had no doubt most women at the banquet tonight would lock onto him like heat-seeking missiles.
Nate gave her a little bow. “Would you care to take my arm, Doctor?
“Why, thank you.” She slid her hand over his bicep, delighting in the feel of the rock-hard muscle under the silky material of his expensive suit. “Lead me to your conveyance, sir.” She smiled when she saw the sleek machine parked by the curb. “I have to say I’m pumped to finally get a ride in an Aston Martin,” she confessed, abandoning her attempt at sophisticated banter.
The prospect of a drive up the freeway in the DB9 sent a flutter of excitement along her nerves. Maybe if she and Nate hit it off tonight, she’d muster up the courage to ask if she could drive his wildly expensive baby home. Not that she would likely have any success. Men were often nuttily protective about their cars. Her dad had been like that, and Nate was probably the same.
He popped open the passenger door and turned to help her into the seat, but Holly slipped past him and walked to the front of the car.
“Wow.” She gave a low whistle as she stroked her hand across the sleek nose of the famous British sports car. “What a beauty.”
Nate stared at her, not at the car. “You can say that again.” His voice was low and slightly rough, and that was even more thrilling than his sweet ride.
Feeling a bit reckless, she began to circle the car, trailing her fingertips across the smooth metal side strakes. “The lines are so smooth, so sexy,” she purred. At least she tried to make it sound like a purr, even though part of her wanted to burst into giggles. Holly Bell, flirting with a guy like Nate Carter?
“Sexy, yeah,” he purred back, his gaze still glued to her body. Then, raising his eyes to meet hers, he went on, “I remember that Aston Martin describes the bodywork as gently curved like an athlete with great muscle tone. It stuck in my mind. I guess because I thought it was a pretty cool way to describe a big chunk of metal.”
But Holly had the feeling he wasn’t really describing the car.
She tilted her head and pretended to study him. “I couldn’t compare them. I haven’t had my hands on an athlete with great muscle tone. One of the drawbacks of pediatrics, I suppose.”
Nate chuckled, but her remark had obviously stoked what was already burning inside him. He began to stalk her, his hot gaze locked on her body as she moved around the car. The hunger in his eyes set off a little jolt of sensation low in her belly.
“Aston Martin custom designed the interior leather tones, and the wood is handcrafted,” he continued, his voice so gravelly it was almost a rumble.
She smiled as she bent to look through the driver side window. “Really? Well, that leather is the deepest and richest-looking I’ve ever seen. Absolutely decadent.” She deliberately emphasized her southern drawl, and his dark eyes flashed with laugher and sensual heat.
But as she gazed through the window, Holly experienced an unexpected stab of irritation as she imagined all the other women who had probably ridden in Nate’s sex-on-a-stick car. She cut a cautious glance his way and realized that he’d silently prowled up right behind her, just like a dangerous beast of prey.
A very big, handsome, and sexy beast of prey.
Heart thumping in her chest, she dodged by him and completed her circle of the car to the passenger door. Nate followed right behind, throwing off enough masculine heat and energy to power up a small city.
Too much, too soon. Slow down, girl.
Holly opened her mouth to make some casual remark, intending to ease the sexual tension spiking between them, but every thought flew out of her head under his scorching gaze. He leaned over her and, for a heart-stopping moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he lightly grasped her arm and gently urged her down into the seat. She drew in a shaky breath as she slid onto the butter-soft leather, admonishing herself to get a grip. It was just a date, after all. Not life-saving surgery.
Nestling into the supple cushion, she wrestled her focus onto the car instead of its very distracting driver. It felt like she’d been enveloped in a luxuriously debauched cocoon. The seat had been shaped perfectly to fit the human body. In fact, it seemed as if it had been specifically designed for her body.
r /> Nate slid into the driver’s seat, one big hand taking the wheel and the other resting lightly on the stick shift. He turned his head and gave her another one of those smoldering looks before starting the car.
Mercy!
Holly resisted the temptation to fan herself. Sitting in this car with Nate Carter was the closest thing to foreplay you could do in public without getting arrested. She’d only been with him for ten minutes, and she felt ready to fling all her native caution to the winds. Clearly, her emotional body armor had already disintegrated under the strain of Nate’s masculine assault.
Yanking her gaze away from him, she ran her hand along the deep-grained walnut trim of the center console. In the middle was the fanciest flip-up GPS navigation system she had ever seen.
Time to stop acting like a gawking idiot and make some conversation.
She cleared her throat. “You know, I’m not that big into material things, but I think I’d sell my dear brother into slavery for one of these.”
“You might have to sell your entire extended family.” Nate grinned as he eased the car away from the curb and gunned it down the street. “It’s kind of ridiculous to spend so much money on a car, but at least I didn’t blow it gambling or on some other stupid thing. It’s kind of an investment, I figure. It’ll have great resale value.”
Holly laughed. “Right. I’m sure resale value was uppermost in your mind when you bought this sex machine. But I don’t think you should ever sell it. This is a car a person should drive for twenty years or more, and then preserve it and leave it to his children.”
He slanted her a startled look. “Well, I’ll have to give that some thought.”
Once they’d crossed the Ben Franklin Bridge onto I-76, the dense traffic slowed them to little more than a leisurely bicycle pace, with more stop than go.
“This traffic is a pain in the ass,” Nate grumbled. “We’re going to miss the whole cocktail hour at this rate.” He swung the wheel hard to the left, yanking the car out of the clogged right lane. But the other lane was only marginally better. “If we could just get clear for a while, I’d show you how this baby can move.”
“I’m told it generally opens up a bit after City Line,” she said. “You know what, though?”
“What?”
“It’s all right with me if we’re held up a while longer,” she murmured, relaxing even further into the leather and stretching out her long legs. “I’d be happy to stay in these seats for hours. It’s like sitting on a velvet cloud.”
“If you like it so much, we could make a left at the Turnpike and head straight for California.” He seemed to be studying her legs more than keeping his eyes on the road. Good thing they were still just crawling along.
“Don’t tempt me,” she sighed. “I had a rough day.” In fact, the prospect of taking off with Nate on a wild adventure held an insanely attractive appeal, more the fool her. Time to get her thoughts moving in a different direction.
“You get a third lane up ahead, and I see some daylight,” she said. “Let’s see what she can do.”
Nate flashed a boyish grin. “Hold on.”
In a moment, the predicted opening materialized. He punched the accelerator pedal down hard. The big V-12 roared to life, like a racing thoroughbred bursting out of the starting gate. As Holly sat up straight and grabbed a handhold, the DB9 rocketed up to nearly seventy miles per hour.
It lasted mere seconds though, as Nate was forced to throttle back almost immediately to keep a safe distance from the car ahead. Still, the roar from the engine and the jet-like acceleration flooded her body with adrenaline. She’d always loved fast, powerful cars, and this one was the best she’d ever ridden in.
“God, that little taste just makes me want more,” she breathed. “What a beast. A beautiful beast, for sure, but still a beast.” Like Nate actually, which was part of the thrill. Holly looked over at him with a playful smile. “I realize this is more than a bit forward, but do you think you could take me on a real test drive sometime?”
A sly grin teased the corners of his mouth. “I know the owner of a small racing oval south of the city. The guy let me use it once before to test out cars, and I’m sure he’d let me in there again. Especially if he got a few free Patriots tickets,” he finished sardonically.
“That would be incredible.” Holly knew she was gushing, but couldn’t help it.
He snapped his fingers. “Then your wish is my command, Dr. Bell.”
She thought there would be no end of excitement around a man like Nate Carter. No wonder women made fools of themselves trying to latch onto him.
She frowned. Is that what she was doing? Making a fool of herself? The thought made her inwardly cringe.
“Have you always loved cars?” she asked, trying for a more conversational tone. “You obviously know how to drive a fast car.”
He nodded. “I’ve always loved all kinds of machines. My dad is a nut for every kind of engine. Doesn’t matter whether it’s a jet ski or a sump pump, Dad loves ‘em all. I absorbed it through him.”
“I can relate,” she said with a smile. “Your dad’s a bit like mine was, though mine wouldn’t have dirtied his hands on anything as mundane as a sump pump. Can I ask what your father does for a living?”
Nate hesitated, giving her a glance she couldn’t decipher. “He runs a water treatment plant in Brooklyn.”
Holly twisted in her seat to watch his face as he talked. “Cool. Tell me about him.”
His eyebrows lifted, as if something had surprised him, but he answered easily enough. “Well, he actually started out as a minor league ballplayer. The Dodgers signed him out of high school. But he’d barely started his rookie league season when he got drafted. He wound up doing two six-month tours in Vietnam.”
That gave her a jolt. “Thank God he survived that carnage,” she said.
“No kidding. He wouldn’t talk much about his service, but I know his infantry company saw a hell of a lot of combat. Anyway, as soon as he got out of the army, he went back to playing ball. But he gave it up at the Double-A level after four seasons. He was good, but he knew he’d never make it to the bigs. That’s when he enrolled in community college. He got an engineering technology diploma there and, even better, met my mother.”
He glanced down at her lap. Holly followed his gaze, and noticed that the hem of her dress had ridden up around her thighs. She quickly smoothed it back down.
“Did your mom work outside the home?” she asked.
Nate gave her a mocking look but, thankfully, didn’t tease her. “Mom isn’t exactly the stay-at-home variety. After college, she worked as an organizer with the New York Health Care Workers’ Union, and now she’s the national director of organizing for a smaller union in the food service industry. She’s always worked her butt off. All kinds of hours, weekends and holidays too.”
Holly grimaced, thinking of her own mother and the long hours she had put into her career as a psychologist. She and Sacha had too often felt neglected by both their parents. “That makes it hard on the family, doesn’t it?”
“Sure. But she and Dad still managed to raise us, even though they both were always working like maniacs. They were always great parents. They made sure my sister and I got to all our ball games and music lessons—whatever we were into at the time. We never felt like they weren’t there for us.”
“It sounds like you had a happy family growing up,” Holly said softly.
Another veiled look from Nate, but he nodded. “We’re really close. My mother is a total ball-buster, but you’d never know it if you saw her with the family. She’s always been a pushover for us. It was Dad who laid down the law.”
“What about your sister?”
Nate chuckled again. “She got Mom’s brains. Went to law school and now she’s on the fast track to partnership in a big New York firm.”
“Is she married?”
“No,” he said, his mouth turning down. “Multiple divorces, though.”
&nbs
p; Oops. Obviously time for Holly to drop the interrogation, and Nate didn’t volunteer any more information. He slowed the car through the EZ Pass lane at the toll plaza before merging onto the turnpike westbound.
But their exchange about families had given her much to think about. For a guy with a reputation as a hard-living rake, he certainly talked lovingly about family life. She wondered what his mom and dad thought of all the hype about his supposed playboy lifestyle. Maybe they knew something no one else did—that a lot of it was just media hype.
At least she hoped so. In fact, Holly hoped rather desperately that there was much more to Nate Carter than the trashy headlines and celebrity rags led people to believe.
Chapter Ten