The Right Man

by Mankin, Michelle

  “Hope the belt didn’t give you whiplash,” he said.

  “I’m fine. Would’ve been worse if you hit him. Good thing you have quick reflexes.”

  “I do. Plus, I’m not one to miss an opportunity when it’s presented to me.” His eyes twinkled like the sun breaking through the clouds as he gave me the side-eye.

  “So, not accidental contact, huh?” I raised a brow in his direction.

  “Hell no.” He grinned, completely unapologetic.

  My breath caught. Being on the receiving end of his teasing made me feel warm and tingly. “So, that’s how it’s gonna be with you?”

  “Me taking advantage every chance I get?” His grin widened. “That would be a hell fucking yes.”

  So he was one of those, a handsome troublemaker with a sense of humor. I liked guys like that. After following one to LA and learning well the hard lesson Landon had taught me, I was Teflon-coated now.

  But deep down, I wasn’t so sure my resistance could withstand this particular one.

  Chapter 7

  * * *

  Rush

  She was prettier up close. A lot of eye makeup, sure. But I wore some myself onstage.

  I knew what it was. Part of her act, like the clothes and the platinum pigtails. The icy blond didn’t match the fire of her personality or her russet brows. The hair might be a dye job, or it might be a wig.

  A lot of mystery surrounded Harley Quinn. But I liked mysteries. Kept a guy guessing.

  “So, do you usually rap on the window of any random car that pulls up?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I could be a cop. Or a psycho.” My lips flattened. “Don’t you have any criteria to rule those type of guys out?”

  “You asking for trade secrets?”

  “Just wondering.”

  How many times it had been a cop, and she had spent the night in jail? How often had she ended up with a psycho? Was one of those the reason why the hotel setup scared her?

  “Wondering why I picked you?” she asked.

  “Sure.” I’d take that. Seemed the other line of questioning wouldn’t be allowed.

  “The car.” She made a face, and I laughed.

  “Figured. Chicks say it’s never the car, but it always is.”

  “Is that why you bought the Porsche? It is your car, right?”

  “It’s mine.”

  The Porsche was a reward to myself after years of barely breaking even until the multiplatinum album, which was a huge accomplishment professionally. But beyond my bandmates and occasionally my manager, there had been no occasion for anyone else to ride in my reward with me.

  “You like it?”

  “It’s nice and shiny.”

  “That doesn’t sound very enthusiastic.”

  “I tried to get my friend to go for you. She’s into cars. She knew the make, model, the retail price tag, and the acceleration stats. She was very impressed.”

  Curious, I glanced her way again. “So, why’d you come over and not her?”

  “She said I looked hotter than her tonight.” She nibbled on her plump bottom lip. “But I think it’s really that she feels . . .”

  When she hesitated, I lifted my chin, wanting her to go on. “What?”

  I was intrigued. Not only did I want to undress her, I also wanted to know what was in her head. Not a usual thing for me. But then, nothing about this night seemed usual.

  Least of all her.

  Chapter 8

  * * *

  Jewel

  “The brakes are super sensitive,” Rush said to the hotel valet while I stood beside his shiny car and waited. “Be sure to park it so the doors don’t get dented.”

  “I’ll park it in VIP and put traffic cones around it. Same as always, Mr. McMahon.”

  “See that you do.” Rush gave him a somber nod.

  His wide shoulders back, his spine straight, he carried himself confidently, as if accustomed to having his orders obeyed. Even the breeze seemed to hesitate to lift more than a few strands of hair from his stern brow without permission.

  Was his confidence an inherent personality trait, or was it a learned behavior due to his celebrity status?

  Whichever it was, I counted myself fortunate that I’d been able to put him off when he pressed me earlier. There was no way I wanted to let him into my private thoughts and admit that I knew the real reason Cam had passed over a guy with a Porsche was because she felt sorry for me.

  Studying Rush with narrowed eyes again, I racked my brain, trying to figure out if I’d seen him somewhere before. The area in front of the hotel was well lit, and my view of him was clear. He was handsome, for sure, but he didn’t seem familiar to me.

  I took another glance around as he continued to interact with the kid in the festive Santa hat.

  Lush foliage surrounded the boutique hotel. A black-and-white striped awning at the center covered the entrance. Prickly shrubs framed the ground-level patios. Noting the sharp leaves, I gnawed my bottom lip. Those would hurt if I had to quickly shimmy through them.

  Stop it, Jewel. If you need to get away, a couple of surface-level scratches will be the least of your worries.

  I shifted my attention back to Rush and caught the valet’s bright-eyed gaze skimming over me. His lips parted as his perusal lingered in the usual places. In my work gear, I was accustomed to male interest like his. On the street we’d left behind, guys barely old enough to drive slowed their vehicles to gawk at girls dressed like me.

  “Eyes on me, Doyle,” Rush said with a growl. “Focus on the task I’ve given you, not her.”

  Huh. I might be accustomed to the gawking, but my client wasn’t. The valet’s interest obviously irritated him.

  “But isn’t she cold?” Doyle’s eyes widened. “She looks really naked . . . I mean, cold.”

  “Cold isn’t a word I’d employ to describe her. But it’s my job, not yours, to ensure that’s she’s plenty warm.” Rush’s sexy lips curved, a sardonic complement to the proprietary glint in his eyes.

  I got the not-so-subtle hint. I was his. Bought and paid for during the hour he had me tonight. Not sure the kid got it, though. He continued to stare until Rush gestured at him impatiently.

  “The car, Doyle,” my scowling client reminded him. “Park it. Now.”

  “Oh yes. Right. Sorry.” The valet’s face turned tomato red. Dipping his head, he took the keys from Rush’s outstretched palm and scurried to the driver’s side of the Porsche.

  “You ready?” Rush asked when he reached me.

  “Sure.” I pretended I hadn’t noticed how fine he looked in his jeans. The faded denim clung to him in all the right places.

  “Good. I’m certainly ready.” He wrapped his hand around my upper arm.

  His grip was as proprietary as his gaze, making my skin tingle. Not because his fingers were overly tight, but because of the jolt of adrenaline that zinged through me the instant his flesh connected with mine.

  He felt it too. I knew he did. It was the reason we were here together, after all. Nothing personal, which would be wise for me to remember. Just hormones and chemistry at an agreed-upon price.

  “You sure you’re all right, Harley?” One brow rose as he watched me gulp in oxygen to fuel my escalating heart rate. “You sound out of breath.”

  “I’m fine,” I mumbled, willing my pulse to slow.

  “If you say so.”

  As he steered me up the walk, I hoped he attributed my breathlessness to my trepidation about the hotel. Entering the Chamberlain dressed the way I was would be embarrassing, not to mention humiliating if they kicked me out.

  Was he interested enough to take me somewhere else? Or would he abandon me? If the latter occurred, which was more likely, I’d figure out a way back to the other side of town on my own. I was tough and resourceful. But I would lose the money I needed to make rent.

  Distracted, I murmured a thank-you as he stepped aside and held open one of the etched glass doors for me. He was
surprisingly solicitous, surprising in a number of ways, not the least of which was my response to him. So we had some chemistry. I just needed to remember that in addition to the things I found attractive, he was also arrogant and rude.

  Inside the lobby, I paused and my mouth gaped open like the valet’s. With its crystal chandeliers, and seating groups in velvet with polished chrome knickknacks, the hotel was more elegantly appointed than I’d expected.

  “Let’s check in.” Watching me closely, Rush grasped my upper arm again and resumed dragging me along. The ring of my stilettos and the determined thud of my escort’s boots on the marble refocused me, reminding me where I was, who I was with, and that this was only business between us.

  “All right.” I pulled in a deep breath to clear my head, but it only fogged it up again on Rush’s woodsy cologne. Seductive and disorienting, like a naked plunge into an icy mountain stream, it had scrambled my equilibrium in his car too. Only—joy of joys—it was worse now with his touch amplifying the effect.

  “Mr. McMahon.” The front desk clerk greeted him warmly, but only gave me a cool, disapproving side glance. “We have everything ready as requested.”

  “Good. The location of the room is important to my companion.”

  Don’t read anything into him following through. He wants what he wants from you. You gave him your parameters. It’s not consideration or kindness on his part.

  Not really.

  But it certainly seemed like it was.

  “Yes. And there’s this.” Reaching behind the counter, the clerk placed a thick envelope in front of Rush. “Now, for your suite. Will it be just the two keys? And the one night?”

  After running two keycards through the programming device, she slipped them into a small cardboard folder before placing it in front of him. Apparently, his response to her questions was familiar enough to be a foregone conclusion.

  Like me.

  “Thank you, Mindy.” He folded and tucked the envelope I suspected contained my cash into a pocket inside his leather jacket.

  “The Wi-Fi password is the usual. But I wrote it inside the jacket sleeve, just in case, along with your room number,” Mindy said. “Your suite is just on the other side of the lobby.”

  I shifted my weight from one spiked heel to the other. My feet hurt. I was cold. And I stuck out like a West Hollywood drag queen would at a Sunday church service back home. There was absolutely no chance I blended in with the understated finery around me.

  “Down the hall.” Mindy pointed. “The second door on your left.”

  “Perfect.” Rush took the small keycard envelope and turned to me. “Why are you standing so far away from me?” His brows drawing together, he quickly closed the distance between us.

  “I don’t . . . feel comfortable here,” I said, tugging ineffectually on the revealing hem of my skirt.

  His gaze dipped, and when it rose again, his eyes were dark in a lustful haze.

  “Can we . . . um . . .” I paused to lick my dry lips. Being on the receiving end of his interest, I discovered that I was a little hazy myself. Sliding the strap of my bag higher up my shoulder, I began again. “Can we go to your room?”

  “Anxious to get started, huh?”

  I was anxious for something, all right, but before I could come up with a response, a well-dressed couple stepped up behind us.

  “Oh my.” The woman gasped, stopping abruptly when she saw me. She clutched her brown-and-gold handbag to her chest as if she feared I would snatch it from her.

  The man predictably leered.

  “What are you looking at?” My spine snapped straight. I went from embarrassed to defensive the instant she wrinkled her stuck-up nose at me. As if I would steal. As if I would want a purse with her initials stamped all over it. And I did not smell bad. I’d showered before going out tonight.

  “Arthur . . .” The woman sniffed, seeming affronted that I’d addressed her. “You didn’t mention there was a costume party at the hotel. Unusual at this time of year.” She made the word unusual sound as if it meant trashy.

  “I’m a Christmas elf,” I said, making up the lie on the spot. As I linked my arm with Rush’s, I couldn’t help but notice how incredibly hard his bicep was beneath my fingers. “My man likes seasonal-themed sexual play, which usually means spankings for me. I’ve been very naughty. But if I take my punishment like a good little girl, he might move me to the nice list.”

  I glanced at the woman’s companion through my lashes, and he smiled at me. She noticed and stiffened, frowning at him.

  “The nice list comes with his cock and cookies. I—”

  “Harley.” Rush interrupted me, letting out a strangled sound as if he were choking. “Come along, naughty girl. That’s enough. Excuse us,” he said to the couple, and tugged on my arm.

  “What?” I tottered on my heels as he pulled me away. “She was rude. I wasn’t finished.”

  “You’re finished.” Rush chuckled as we entered the hall.

  My brows rose. Had that choking been him holding back laughter? Surprised, I stared at him. His silver eyes sparkled brighter than the polished chrome in the lobby as he grinned at me, making my stomach flutter.

  “You have some attitude, Harley Quinn.”

  “I don’t like people judging me.” I pouted for a second before another thought occurred to me. “You’re not mad at me?”

  “Why would I be mad?” He gave me a puzzled look.

  My gran would have been. I had a reputation in her small town for popping off.

  “Don’t react, precious Jewel,” she’d say. “Starve those who insult you.” In other words, take the high road and ignore them.

  “I thought you’d be angry because of the way I acted just now,” I said, getting straight to the point. “And doesn’t the way I look embarrass you?”

  “You have better manners than that stuck-up bitch back there.” He ran an approving gaze over me and stepped closer. “And you look great. Your outfit suits you.”

  Befuddled, I sucked in another dizzying lungful of his cologne.

  His eyes actively searching mine, he reached up slowly, as if afraid I would bolt, and carefully ran the back of his fingers down my cheek. “You’re badass and pretty.”

  “I . . . thank you.” I swayed on the unfamiliar ground beneath my feet. Clients, even the few regulars I had, never treated me like this. His approving words flooded my parched psyche.

  “Not done yet.”

  “No?” I couldn’t fathom it or him. Quickly, too quickly, the water of the unknown rose over my head like a river cresting its banks.

  “Huh-uh.” He touched my nose. “You’re cute. Beguiling. And let’s not forget, totally fuckable.”

  He was teasing me. Again.

  And I liked it. A lot.

  Stunned, I watched him insert his keycard in the door before I managed to blink away my confusion.

  “You first.” Holding open the door, he gestured to the interior.

  “Okay. Yes. Sure.”

  I got my feet moving and stumbled inside. Behind me, he fumbled for the light switch on the wall while I cautiously stepped farther into the darkened suite.

  “There we go,” he said as the room suddenly filled with light.

  The welcome glow of lamps chased away the shadows, illuminating a large bed on a riser on the right, a hallway on the left that I assumed led to a bathroom, and a sunken sitting area directly ahead with a couple of carpeted steps leading down to it.

  “Nice enough?” he asked.

  “Yeah, sure. A/C works great.” I rubbed the sudden chill bumps from my arms. “Everything looks brand new.” The bed linens were ice blue, the couch and easy chairs a deep sapphire, and the decorative accents mostly reflective chrome, like the lobby. “It’s a palace compared to my place.”

  He had to know this was way better than anywhere I had ever been. So why even ask?

  “Cold?” Placing his hands on my upper arms, he turned me to face him.

  �
�A little.” Meaning I was burning hot where his skin touched mine, and cold everywhere else. And nervous, so nervous, as he stared at me with his mesmerizing silver eyes. I’d been with countless men. But none had ever confused me the way this one did.

  “I thought so.”

  His brow furrowed, he removed his jacket and carefully arranged it around my shoulders. The soft lining retained his heat and his seductive scent. Watching me with a tender expression on his handsome face, he untucked my pigtails and arranged them outside the collar.

  Longing stirred within me, an emotion that had no place in a hookup for cash.

  “Um, thank you.” I gave him a furtive look.

  Did he know how off-kilter he made me with his flattering comments and consideration? Staring at him didn’t provide an answer to my question, only supplied me with more temptation. My legs wobbled as I took in his torso, left bare now that he’d removed his jacket.

  Focus, Jewel. Focus. Not on his chiseled physique, but on doing what you need to do to it.

  I gulped and gestured around us at the suite. “Isn’t the point of all of this to be with me somewhere private? Not so you can give me your clothes, but so I can take off mine.”

  I reached for his jacket, planning to remove it from my shoulders. I needed to get things back on familiar ground, but he stopped me.

  “Keep it.” He placed his much larger hands over mine. My black sparkly polish contrasted with his bare, blunt-tipped nails. He had long, slender, artistic-looking fingers, and wore a silver gothic cross on his middle finger.

  “I insist.” He squeezed my hands.

  I lifted my gaze and met his molten eyes. Transfixed, I stared. Warmth flowed through him to me. I was suddenly afraid . . . not of him, not really, but for myself and the knowledge that I liked his care and concern and the way he looked at me.

  Far too much.

  Childish dreams and wishes. The hope that being myself could make a difference to the right man. I had set those unrealistic expectations aside after returning from my grandmother’s funeral to find Landon in our bed with another woman.