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“I must be out of my mind to do this,” Ryan moaned.
“Don’t you dare back out,” Helene ordered. “This is exactly what you need. We’ll have to set you up with a room. I’ll take care of it, and get the key delivered to your office. All you have to do is walk upstairs with him and into bliss.”
“I should have my head examined.”
“I don’t know about examining your head,” Helene said with a wicked lilt to her voice, “but we’ll find you a guy who’ll play doctor with you to your heart’s content.”
“GENTLEMEN, IT WAS A pleasure doing business with you.” It was like a tribal ritual, Cade Douglas thought as he and his partner went around the conference table shaking hands with the members of the venture capital group that had just funded their start-up to the tune of $7 million. Even back in his days of wheeling and dealing at Shearson Lehman, in the end the deal came down to handshakes.
$7 million. He felt a surge of triumph. They had backers now, a group convinced that eTrain.com was more than a pipe dream. Backers who believed that they’d be a success, who believed enough to sink a small fortune into their ability to turn online education into money.
There was a whoop of jubilation somewhere down deep in his throat, but he contented himself with a wide smile as he and his partner, Patrick Wallace, walked out into the hotel corridor.
$7 million.
“I still think we should have them to the office while they’re here,” Patrick muttered. “That dial-up connection was pathetic. They can’t have any idea of what we’re trying to do.”
“Patrick, VC guys don’t care about the technology,” Cade said patiently. “They’re in town for an Internet conference. They don’t want to spend an hour driving out to Peabody. They just want the business plan.”
“I still think…”
“Patrick. Did we or did we not get the money?”
“We got the money,” Patrick said, a smile spreading across his face until it looked like it was going to crack. “Jesus, we just walked into a room and convinced five guys to give us seven million dollars.” He whooped and punched his fist in the air. “Yes!”
Cade pushed the elevator call button, the heady glow of the deal rushing through his veins. Eventually, the weight of responsibility would descend, but right now, life was good. Reflexively, he pulled out his cell phone to check messages. An instant later, he gave a muffled curse.
Patrick shot a wary glance at him as the elevator doors opened. “No problems right now, buddy, I’m feeling too good.”
“Nothing that you need to worry about,” Cade said briefly, punching the button for the hotel lobby. “A message from the darling Alyssa. She apparently heard that we were pitching the VCs today and wanted to remind me that she still hasn’t gotten the certificates on the stock options.”
“Ah, Alyssa. Everybody’s favorite ex-wife.”
Cade snorted. “Yeah, right.” Then he did a double take and his eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to hear it, Patrick.”
Patrick shook his head. “I just thought you’d want to know.”
“Skip it, Patrick.”
“She’s getting married again,” Patrick blurted.
Cade rolled his eyes. “Good for her. I don’t care.”
“It just bugs me, that’s all. She guts you and comes out of it smelling like a rose.”
“She didn’t gut me. We both knew it wasn’t right, practically on the honeymoon. Me getting off the Shearson Lehman gravy train to help start a dot-com just gave her the excuse she needed to make the break.” He shrugged. “I’m not happy about the money part of it, but the rest doesn’t matter.”
“Is that why all you ever do is work?” Patrick’s voice turned serious. “Don’t get me wrong. As your partner, I’m not complaining, but as your friend I worry. Where’s the guy of a thousand dates that I used to know? Hell, Cade, you don’t even look at a woman anymore. Why don’t you give yourself a break and at least get some kind of life going?”
Cade bit back temper. “Patrick, there are times I get home and even the people on the TV seem like they want too much from me. I don’t have the time and energy for doing the dance, okay?” The elevator doors opened and they walked out into the brightly lit marble lobby. “Besides, chemistry doesn’t last, that much I learned from Alyssa. Just give me a break.”
“Cade, it’s been four years since you guys divorced. I mean, forget about obligations, I’m just talking about a one night stand.”
Cade snorted. “That sounds like the cry of a married man who wants to live vicariously.”
“You’re going to get hair on your palms and go blind if you keep this up too much longer, buddy. And that’s going to turn the VC guys right off.”
“Patrick.”
“What about her?” he cocked his head as a curvaceous blonde in white passed them, then grinned to see Cade’s eyes following her. “Well, I’m glad to see that your gonads aren’t completely dead.”
Too reminiscent of Alyssa’s ice blond Beacon Hill debutante looks, Cade thought. The kind who would freeze you if you got too close. “Serve you right if I hauled you out on the town for a night of partying. See how much trouble I can get you in with Amy.” They stopped in front of the lobby bar, talking over the whisper of the fountain burbling in the center.
“I wish I could stop for a drink to celebrate, but I’ve got to get home. Amy’s got book club tonight. That shouldn’t stop you, though,” Patrick said, nodding toward a passing cocktail waitress carrying a tray laden with glasses.
Cade shook his head in mock remorse. “Tragic, what marriage does to a man.”
Patrick smiled and patted him on the back. “Just because I’m peeling out doesn’t mean you should. Hang around for a little while. Have a drink. Who knows, maybe in a couple minutes some gorgeous woman will show up out of the blue and come on to you.” He leaned in closer. “And if she does, do me a favor, buddy. Don’t question it, don’t ask why. Just go with it and let whatever happens, happen.”
Cade raised an eyebrow at him. “What the hell kind of advice is that?”
“Take it as a few words of wisdom from someone who knows a thing or two.” Patrick grinned. “I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Cade waved him off and looked at the passing waitress. Maybe he would have a drink. After all the work he’d put in, he deserved it.
RYAN WALKED INTO THE Copley Plaza Hotel, teetering a bit on her heels as she spotted the lobby bar, her heart trip-hammering. The silk of her dress slithered against her as she walked, making her conscious of every brush of her thighs. She’d wanted to look good for tonight, but maybe dropping $250 on the peacock-blue mid-thigh number was overdoing it, considering it would be off in less than half an hour. Oh my God. Butterflies surged in her stomach at the thought. What in the world was she doing? She had to be out of her mind. Only the panic of facing her empty computer screen kept her from wheeling around and going right back to her car.
She glanced across the semi-crowded room. On one of the groupings of deep, soft couches, a group of noisy businessmen laughed at each other’s jokes. From the looks of their rumpled suits and disheveled hair, she figured they’d been sucking down martinis for some time. On a nearby settee, an older woman with an air of faded elegance cast a disapproving glance at the group, leaning close to whisper to the young girl beside her. Up by the bar, a piano player was murdering an old Harry Nilsson tune. There ought to be a law, Ryan thought. And then she saw him, sitting on a couch, an empty glass at his elbow. He raised a beckoning hand.
Her knees turned to water.
Helene’s friend hadn’t exaggerated. Stunningly good-looking didn’t come close to describing him. Thick, dark hair stopped just at his collar, a sheaf falling down over his forehead. His face was strong-boned, the eyes too shadowed under the slashes of dark brows for her to see the color. But his mouth…a fantasy blazed through her mind, her naked, on her back, looking down to see his mouth on her. And it was going to happen, everything she wanted, everything she could think of. Oh my god. She took a quick breath to fill lungs that felt robbed of oxygen. Then she breathed in again.
Okay. The thing to do was to be casual, classy, self-possessed oh my god just walk up, introduce herself, and go upstairs oh my god, he’s going to—
Ryan reached the couch. Blue. His eyes were the deep blue of the Atlantic on a clear fall day. As he looked her up and down, she felt her cheeks heat. Casual, classy, self-possessed.
Oh my god.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Hello. I’m Ryan.” She put her hand out.
He hesitated just a beat, then caught it up and brought it to his lips. “You’re also lovely.”
She was, simply, stunned. His lips sent a frisson of heat and electricity through her hand, which seemed to have instantly grown a thousand new nerve endings. She sank down on the couch because her knees wouldn’t hold her.
Cade studied her in bemusement. Granted, he’d been out of the bar scene for a couple of years—okay, for six or seven if you wanted to get picky—but he was almost sure that gorgeous women didn’t just fall into a guy’s lap because he was sitting in a bar alone. At least not unless you were Russell Crowe, anyway. The waitress he’d waved at brought him another scotch. He passed her a bill and glanced at Ryan. “Would you like something?”
Nothing from the bar, thanks, a little voice in her mind answered back. I’ll just have you. Cade and the waitress looked at her, waiting for her response. Her cheeks heated. Classy. What was a classy, sophisticated drink? “A martini,” Ryan said quickly. “I’ll have a martini.”
“How do you want that?”
Great. How would a martini drinker answer? “Um, dry, please.” Ryan breathed a sigh of relief as the waitress nodded and walked off. Then she pushed back her hair and turned to the man beside her.
She truly was something to look at, Cade thought, watching the blush slowly fade from her high cheekbones. Long and lovely in a narrow, electric blue dress that slipped up to show legs longer than any woman had a right to have. Glossy dark hair tumbled down her back. Her mouth was a deep, ripe red that sent his brain running down carnal pathways. He took a sip of his scotch. “So how are you this fine Wednesday evening?”
Nervous. Giddy. In heat. “Fine. How about you?”
“I’m good.”
“So I hear.” Ryan’s eyes widened and she put a hand to her mouth. She’d said it out loud. It must have been that voice, vibrating her nerve cells and setting loose butterflies inside her. She forced a laugh that sounded fake and tinny even to her own ears. “Just, uh, joking. So, are you having a nice evening?” she asked brightly. Jeez, Ryan, can you get any more pedestrian? On the other hand, she thought, it didn’t really matter if she was a fount of witty banter or not.
He was a sure thing.
She laughed again, this time for real.
Cade raised an eyebrow. “What’s the joke?”
Ryan gave a small cough. “Sorry, I’m just in a good mood tonight. I don’t usually go out on weeknights, so this is like a holiday for me.”
“What’s the occasion?”
Her mouth curved. “Oh, I think a chance to meet someone like you is occasion enough.”
He glanced at her legs appreciatively. “I’d say the pleasure’s all mine.” He’d forgotten what it was like to sit in a bar and flirt with a sexy woman. Patrick was right, he did need to start getting out more.
“And do weeknights usually find you out and about?”
Cade shrugged and rested an elbow on the back of the couch. “Sometimes a special job makes it worthwhile. It was definitely worth it tonight, especially since now I’m sitting here in the company of a gorgeous woman.” He eyed her over the rim of his glass. “You are gorgeous, you know.”
He enjoyed watching her blush. She was luscious—dark, vivid, unconsciously lovely with none of the hard-edged gloss and sophistication that seemed to run through so many of the women he met. There was something addictive about the quick flash of her smile, something that compelled him to keep the conversation rolling. “Anyway, a buddy of mine was just lecturing me that I need to get out more.”
“I suppose all work and no play makes life dull. Do you like your work?”
He paused to consider before answering. “Yeah, I do. It has its challenges, but boy, when it goes well I just feel like if I can do that, I can do anything.”
Her pulse speeded up at the thought of just exactly what he might do to her. The waitress returned and Ryan reached out for her drink. This would be interesting, she thought, given that she’d never had a martini in her life. They always looked sophisticated, though, with that deep green olive glowing in the icy clear liquid. How bad could it be? “Here’s to weeknights,” she said, and clinked her glass against his. She took a sip and the cold, clean taste of the liquor flowed over her tongue. Then the heat slammed into her and she coughed fire.
“You okay?”
Eyes watering, Ryan nodded, giving up the pretense of sophistication. “My first martini.” She coughed again. “I always thought they looked great but never had the nerve to try one before.”
“And what’s the verdict?”
She gave a rueful smile. “It’s an eye-opener.”
Cade ran his thumb lightly across her cheek. “So are you.”
A shiver ran up her spine at his touch. Then the first flush of the liquor hit her. She couldn’t tell whether the warmth she felt was from the drink or from the heat in his eyes. Her pulse jumped and she groped to organize her scattered thoughts. Say something witty, Ryan. “Do they give you guys a script or something?”
Cade blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“You say such pretty things it’s like something out of a movie.” She took another cautious sip of her drink and was pleased to find that it flowed down easily this time.
“Is that a polite way of saying ‘stop feeding me lines’?”
She smiled. “No, it’s nice. I like it. Guys just don’t usually say things like that to me.” And though she tried to tell herself it was part of his professional persona, she was charmed.
“You’re obviously hanging around with the wrong guys. I guarantee any man in this room would be thrilled if you walked up and started talking with him.” His eyes glimmered. “Unless his wife were sitting next to him, of course.”
“Oh please.”
“You don’t believe me?” He surveyed the room. “There are about fifteen or twenty men sitting in this bar. We can take a poll.” There was a burst of raucous laughter from the conventioneers. “Actually, I don’t need to take a poll. Those guys over there? The only time they’ve been quiet the entire night was when you walked through the door. Aunt Cordelia and her charge at the next couch over were very grateful.”
Ryan caught the glare the older woman gave the group. “I noticed when I walked in that she wasn’t very happy. Why do you suppose she stays there instead of moving?”
Cade shrugged. “Boston Brahmin—she was there first, why should she move for a bunch of savages?”
Ryan’s smile flashed again. “You seem to know the type well.”
“I was married to a baby Brahmin for a couple of years. I learned to recognize entitlement from fifty paces.”
“Where’s the baby Brahmin now?”
Cade took another sip of his drink. “Getting remarried, last time I heard. Hopefully it’ll stick for her this time.”
It was Ryan’s turn to raise her eyebrows. “You don’t seem very bitter. Most people tend to be hostile after divorces.”
He shrugged, his eyes dropping to where the blue silk dipped low over her breasts, then rising back up to meet her eyes. “No reason I should be. We just made a bad pair. It was best for both of us that we ended it.”
“Was that how she felt about it?”
“More or less. I think her family was relieved. They lived off a one-hundred-and-fifty-year-old shipping fortune. Someone who worked like I did was an embarrassment to them.”
She looked into his laughing eyes and found herself smiling at the thought of an unrepentant gigolo infiltrating an old-money Boston family. They must have been scandalized. “I take it you didn’t agree?”
He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Not really. I dealt with people who had a certain set of needs and I came in and made sure they got satisfied. That seemed pretty worthwhile to me.”
“So you leave satisfied customers behind you?” She took another sip of her martini and her eyes darkened as she licked a drop of vodka from her lip.
Cade lost a beat watching her. “I do my best. I think satisfaction is a pretty worthy goal.” He hooked a finger in his tie to loosen it, then unbuttoned his collar.
Ryan suddenly had an image of pulling the tie off, unfastening the buttons one by one as he lay back on a bed. She shifted on the couch and her thighs brushed together, a tendril of heat starting to grow between them.
The bar had been gradually filling up with more patrons. Noticing the mood, the piano player switched from bad Harry Nilsson to bad Billy Joel. Ryan winced at the opening strains of “It’s Still Rock and Roll to Me.” “That’s painful. I didn’t think it could get any worse than the last tune.”
“I think the quality of the material is irrelevant. He was murdering ‘Love is the Drug’ before you got here.”
“I’m sorry I missed it,” she said insincerely.
Cade grinned. “So let’s see. You don’t want the smooth talk, am I right?”
“Oh, I like it when you talk pretty. Just skip the stuff that sounds like a line. You’ve already got me.” She took another sip of her drink and felt the warmth run through her.
“Let’s see. Well, I could tell you that I’ve been sitting here thinking that your eyes are a very elusive color of green and I just realized that they match the olive in your drink. Now that’s straight from the brain, no lines in sight.”
Ryan winced. “I think I liked it better the other way.”
She laughed and something flipped in his gut. Well that was new, he thought. Beyond her, he saw the blonde he’d noticed earlier. Against the swirl of vivid color that was Ryan, she only looked more icy pale than before.
Cade took another swallow of scotch, wanting to hear that soft, throaty laugh again. “So what do you do when you’re not hanging around hotel lobbies with strange men?”
“Oh, I spin yarns,” she said airily.
“Oh yeah? Tell me a good story.”
When she’d been a child, her family would go to a lake in Maine in the summers. In early June, the water was still icy cold. There were two ways to approach it. You could start at the shore, stepping in an inch at a time, waiting for your body to acclimate until you got so chilled the water didn’t feel cold anymore. Or you could run off the end of the dock and jump in, take the shock all at once. In for a penny, in for a pound.
Ryan had always jumped.
She took a deep breath and looked in his eyes. “Let’s go upstairs and I will.”
Cade blinked, and Patrick’s words came back to him. Maybe in a couple of minutes a gorgeous woman will show up out of the blue and come on to you. And if she does, do me a favor, buddy. Don’t question it, don’t ask why. Just go with it and let whatever happens, happen.
Maybe Patrick was right.
“Whatever you say, darlin’.” He rose and pulled her to her feet. “I’m all yours.”
2
JUST WHAT HAD HE GOTTEN himself into, Cade wondered bemusedly as he listened to Ryan’s heels click on the marble lobby tiles. He was pretty sure this was not the way pickups went in this day and age. But the scotch was singing in his blood, the flush of triumph was still flowing through him, and he couldn’t stop wondering what it would feel like to touch her skin.
Ryan ran a hand through her hair, shaking it back. She’d thought she’d be more nervous, but somehow she was more at ease than she’d ever been with a man. Always before she’d wondered and analyzed, trying to figure out what he was thinking, how he felt.
Whether he wanted her.
This time, she didn’t have to wonder. Everybody knew what was going to happen up front. The situation should have made her feel awkward, but it was strangely liberating. The deal was done, she could just ride with it.
And yet, somehow it didn’t feel like a deal. She could swear she’d seen heat in his eyes when she’d approached him. Maybe he was just very good at his job, but it seemed too genuine to be an act. Helene’s friend was right, it felt like a date. A perfect date who was going to put out. She laughed to herself.
“What’s the joke?” Cade asked, those extraordinary eyes on her.
Ryan smiled. “This. I thought it would feel so strange, but it doesn’t.”
“Why should it?”
She shrugged. “I’m sure you hear this all the time, but I’ve never done this before. You know where it goes from here. It’s all new to me.”
“I have no idea where it goes from here,” Cade spoke with perfect truth. “I thought we’d work it out as we go along.”
A chime rang as the elevator doors opened and they stepped into the car. “Fourteenth floor,” she said when he looked at her inquiringly. He punched a button and the car surged upward. Her stomach fluttered in a way that had nothing to do with the movement. Somehow their fingers were still entangled as though they’d fused together. The heat licked up her arm and a surge of pleasure washed over her. It felt so good to touch someone. Just to touch someone. Then his fingertips began tracing patterns over her palm, and she caught her breath.
The chime rang again, and the elevator doors opened on a plushly carpeted hall.
And the nerves hit. Ryan’s hand shook as she dug in her purse for the room folio. “Fourteen twenty-seven. I think we’re down here.” One of her heels caught in the thick carpet and she wobbled before Cade caught her arm.
“Steady.”
Steady? She’d never been less steady in her life. “No more martinis for me.”
“They do pack a punch.”
“So do you.”
“Now who’s talking like the movies?”
She laughed. “I’m the client. I’m allowed to do what I want.”
“What?” Cade came to a stop, fortunately in front of the right door. What the hell was going on? The client? If she was the client, then who did she think he was? What was this all about? To buy himself time to think, he took the card from her hand and unlocked the door.
Ryan took a deep breath and stepped inside. Across the room, floor to ceiling windows looked out on the Boston skyline and a cool April night. Inside, warm light from a silk-shaded table lamp suffused the room. Ornate gold throw pillows accented a couch covered in soft, muted blues and an armchair pulled up nearby. She tried to ignore the acre of bed beyond.
On the low oak coffee table, a plate of cheese and grapes sat next to a bottle of cabernet and a pair of cut-glass goblets. “That Helene,” Ryan said dryly, “she doesn’t miss a trick.”
Cade stepped up behind her to slide her wrap off, staring at her pale shoulders gleaming in the soft light. He wanted to curl his fingers around them and feel her skin against his palms, see if it was as silky soft as it looked. Fill his hands with the hair that flowed down her back, press it to his lips. Feel her move against him. God, it had been so long…
“Who’s Helene?” he asked.
Ryan could feel the heat from his body as he stood behind her. Desire pulled at her and she swayed. Touch me touch me touch me drummed through her mind. Strive for sophisticated, she thought. “Helene’s my agent. You have her to thank for the business, you know.” Because her nerves were strained to the breaking point, she moved away and sank down on the soft blue cushions of the couch.
Business? Agents? Just who was she, Cade wondered, watching her reach toward the tray. She had the lush mouth of an actress, and a body dressed to drive a man wild. She’d talked about it being her first time, but then she’d mentioned spinning tales. Just relax, he thought to himself, ride along with it. “So you said you spin tales. Do you act?” He took the wine bottle and corkscrew that she handed to him.