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She and her company Pot Luck couldn’t afford the disaster. With Kayla, her business partner and sister, pregnant and under doctor’s orders to stay in bed, Catherine was handling more than usual. Between doing the food prep work for today, substituting as bartender, overseeing along with her manager and planning upcoming bookings, Catherine was overworked and stressed. As soon as the temperature warmed, people clamored to organize outdoor events and Pot Luck was booked solid.
She couldn’t complain about being busy, but she did long for future days when all they would have to cater was full-scale parties like this one. But for now Pot Luck accommodated any request—from complete party packages, to hors d’oeuvres only, to simple decorations and party favors. Some day, once their reputation was more firmly established and the bank account posted a hefty surplus, they could be more discriminating—and Catherine could make more use of her culinary background as well. After this event, someday could arrive faster than she’d ever imagined.
The Montgomery party had been a coup and Catherine had no problem with rearranging her schedule to accommodate Emma Montgomery. Success here would mean referrals to the wealthiest people and most prestigious companies in Hampshire. She wouldn’t allow anything to ruin this chance, especially not a temperamental chef who was her oldest friend.
She entered the state-of-the-art kitchen where stainless steel and chrome gleamed from every corner of the room. “Nick, you’re a hit!” Catherine made her way around a long center island and placed a kiss on his clean-shaven cheek.
“The duck isn’t cold,” he denied, whacking at a large chunk of meat with a knife.
“I never said it was. The guests love the hors d’oeuvres. They’re going to spread your name from here to downtown Boston.”
Another loud whack sounded against the cutting board. “I’m already famous in Boston. I don’t need to take abuse because your help can’t get in here fast enough to serve hot food.” Beneath his anger and frustration, she recognized the concern and warning. Someone had been complaining about the temperature of the food. She cringed. She’d take care of her lazy help, but first she had to calm the chef.
Catherine glanced at his exaggerated pout. She’d grown up with Nick. She knew when to worry and when a word or two would smooth things over. She snuck a peek inside the large oven and inhaled an enticing aroma. “This smells heavenly. I don’t know another chef who can create the way you do.” She returned to his side. “The food is almost as good-looking as you are.”
The knife slammed into the wooden board again and he glanced up, dark eyes narrowed. “Don’t try to flatter me, Cat. It won’t work.” His gaze settled on her for the first time and he touched her cheek with one hand. “You’re red.”
“The day is so overcast I forgot the sun-screen.” Catherine shrugged. “Besides we can’t all bronze like you.”
“You’re fair. You ought to be more careful.”
She rolled her eyes. For as far back as she could remember, Nick had looked out for her. He had classic Mediterranean looks and most women would have snatched him up at the slightest chance. Not Catherine. Lovers came and went; best friends were for life. “If you’re so worried about me, stop yelling at the help.”
“They’re incompetent.”
“I’ll talk to them. I promise.”
“It’s a start. What’s going on out there? Is Mr. Right mingling among the guests?”
“Back off, Nick. Just because you’re engaged doesn’t mean everyone else wants the brass ring.” Catherine had no desire to have this conversation with Nick yet again. “Look, the bartender never showed. I’m already pulling double duty and I can’t afford to have the help leave in tears. Now will you lay off the girls?”
He raised an eyebrow. “If you promise to use this party as an opportunity. There are men out there, Cat. All types of men. Tall and thin, fat and balding, rich and richer. Take your pick.”
A sexy stranger with dark hair and compelling eyes filled her mind. She pushed the thought aside. Before she’d entered this immense house filled with elegant women, she’d believed herself over the painful memories associated with her lower-class upbringing. Just working this party, being surrounded by delicate perfection, brought the painful memories back full force.
Sexual attraction from across a crowded room meant nothing when she and the stranger were obviously worlds apart. “You know the guests here are way out of my league,” she told her friend.
“Only because you think so, not because it’s true. You spend too much time alone.”
Catherine shrugged. “At least the company’s good.”
Nick groaned.
“Is it my fault every guy I’ve dated isn’t the one?” Catherine had yet to meet a man worth risking her heart for. Despite what Nick thought, she certainly wouldn’t find him here.
“You walk away before any guy can prove himself. Take me, for instance.”
She rolled her eyes. “I turned you down when we were sixteen and you survived.” She glanced at her watch. “I promise nothing else will leave this kitchen cold. Back off the help?”
“Consider opening your eyes to the men out there,” he countered.
“I’ll consider it,” she lied. “You’re a prince,” she called over her shoulder, adjusting her bow tie as she ran out of the kitchen.
She darted back outside, dismayed to find the clouds darker and heavier than five minutes before. The storm was rolling in faster than predicted. Winded from her sprint out of the kitchen, she rested her hands on the bar and closed her eyes. She inhaled deep, then exhaled, searching for calm. Too much hinged on getting through the rest of the afternoon without mishap.
A deep masculine drawl captured her attention. “So tell me what put the frown on that beautiful face.” She’d never heard that voice before but her body reacted instantly. She knew who it belonged to. She just didn’t know how in the world to handle him.
CHAPTER TWO
CATHERINE OPENED HER EYES and found herself staring into brown eyes the color of her morning coffee, after she’d added the cream. She forced a confident smile. “What can I get for you?” she asked.
“The specialty of the house. What’s yours?” A sexy near-perfect grin blindsided her and her breath caught in a hitch.
Heavy awareness pulsed through her veins, a delicious accompaniment to the steady beat of the music in the background. Catherine wondered just how many women this man charmed with his good looks alone. Enough to make him dangerous, she thought.
He wore an Italian-cut suit as if he were to the manor born, and when those eyes captured hers, they didn’t let go. Not even loud laughter from across the expanse of the outdoors caused his gaze to slide from hers.
She narrowed her eyes to gauge his preference but she wasn’t a bartender by trade. She was merely substituting for her absent employee. Glancing at this man, she couldn’t begin to guess his drink of choice. And though she could offer an interesting mix of cocktails, the general requests here had been for champagne or Mimosas and, somehow, she couldn’t see him as a delicate-drink kind of guy. “Why don’t you tell me what you had in mind?”
He leaned closer, elbows propped on the edge of the bar. His cologne smelled masculine and expensive, a sensual combination that reminded her of spice, temptation and trouble. “Something to cool me down and take the edge off the heat,” he said.
The clouds had darkened to a stormy gray and a heavy breeze had already begun blowing off the nearby ocean, cutting back on the mugginess and heat. Catherine recognized his words for the come-on they were. Though she wanted to be flattered, she couldn’t help but be disappointed as well.
“A splash of cold water would work just fine,” she muttered. His eyes darkened subtly and she was appalled to realize she’d spoken the words out loud.
He grinned. “I could think of plenty of things that would work better.”
He was too confident…too sexy. For all her bravado, Catherine wasn’t as secure in herself as she liked the world to believe. Life’s harsh realities had taught her not to trust in much—especially a tempting man who had charm and knew how to use it.
She glanced at him warily, deciding not to play. “Then how about a cold beer instead?”
His smile widened. “Now you’re talking.” He walked around the corner of the bar, seating himself on a stool—too close to Catherine’s small work space. The width of a bar top separated them, but it wasn’t much and certainly not enough. And with waitresses walking around passing out champagne off serving trays, the line for drinks had dwindled. She hadn’t had a stray passerby in at least half an hour. They were alone.
She reached for one of the eclectic brews handpicked by Judge Montgomery for the occasion and poured the man his drink. Placing the glass on a cocktail napkin, she slid the beer toward him.
“Join me?”
“I’m working,” she said, as she wiped down the already shiny Lucite bar with a damp rag.
“I’ll clear it with the management.”
“I’m the management and I don’t mix business and pleasure.” Especially not when the risk would be greater than the pleasure…and if her tingling nerves and rising anticipation were any indication, she could just imagine how great the pleasure would be.
“Miss…Scotch and soda, if I may interrupt.” The voice came from the opposite end of the bar.
Catherine grabbed on to the excuse and headed for the waiting guest. While she worked, she felt his heavy gaze burn right through her. Then, noticing a problem across the lawn, Catherine ran to avert disaster between her waitress and an intoxicated guest. She was used to the role of overseer and referee. But between the impending rain and the need for things to go well, this party had her completely stressed out.
To make matters worse, Judge Montgomery waylaid her on her way back to the bar. Though Emma led Catherine to believe she was in charge, her son left no doubt he was paying the bills. And he insisted that the waitresses needed to circulate more and that she shouldn’t be fraternizing with the guests. Catherine had to swallow her pride as well as her comeback.
She saw no point in informing the man who would pay for this event that his guest had come on to her. He wouldn’t believe her if she had. Instead she bowed, escaped and got hold of her assistant to warn her to have a quick talk with all the help. Then she ran toward the bar. One thing she knew, she’d be happy when this day was over.
When she returned, her visitor sat in his same spot, arms folded across his broad chest. “You need a break,” he informed her, a scowl on his face. Unfortunately it didn’t do a thing to detract from his good looks.
“A break doesn’t fit into my schedule.”
“You’ve had an overwhelming day.” He darted a glance to where she’d had her discussion with the host of the party. Emma might have employed her services, but Catherine had little doubt it was Judge Montgomery who held court over the world around him.
Her companion then patted a bar stool beside him. “Take a seat and pour your heart out,” he said. “I’m a good listener.” What looked like genuine concern etched his handsome features.
If she let him, he could seduce her with that concern. No doubt that was his goal, yet her body temperature inched higher despite his calculated manners. Or was it his warmth and seductive voice that heated her inside and out? “I think you have our roles reversed. I’m the bartender who’s supposed to have the friendly ear.”
He reached out, touching the silver earrings dangling from her ear. “But I’m not the one in need of a shoulder.”
It was eerie how well he read her, Catherine thought. His strong hand heated her skin. She was in danger of sensual overload. Catherine shut her eyes against the tremor of awareness shooting through her veins. He affected her on more than the physical plane and that made the dynamics between them even more explosive.
She paused a beat. “I appreciate the thought but I shouldn’t fraternize with the guests.”
“You’re doing a great job here. I wouldn’t let anything—or anyone—get to you,” he murmured.
Obviously he understood little about pleasing an employer and paying the bills.
“You’re too old not to realize we all answer to a higher authority,” she said wryly.
“But only when the authority is full of truth and honesty, not hot air,” he said and grinned.
Catherine laughed despite herself. Judge Montgomery had made his displeasure clear. Catherine not only wanted success today, but she also wanted referrals galore. That wouldn’t be happening if she spent the afternoon being verbally seduced by a sexy man way out of her league.
“I’m here to work,” she reminded him.
“You know this party’s a success. Ignore the man,” he suggested. “Why let him tell you what to do?”
“Because he signs my paycheck. Besides,” Catherine said, arching her eyebrow, “he told me to stay away from you. That’s got to be good advice.”
He shook his head. “Cynical is sad.”
He spoke as if he’d read behind the words to her philosophy on life, love and dating in the new millennium. “It’s honest. The only way I know how to be.”
Dark eyes met hers. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he murmured.
He spoke sexy words laced with innuendo, Catherine reminded herself. Nothing more. She tipped her head back to meet his gaze. His nearly black hair had been slicked off his forehead in the latest style. Money and class. He possessed them both.
Behind him milled beautifully dressed women, women immaculately and properly groomed for the world he inhabited. She wondered why this man had chosen to hang out at the bar with the help. He wouldn’t be interested in a woman way out of his social class with a shady family history.
She didn’t know what he wanted, but she suspected he found her an interesting diversion. The thought tapped into her deepest fear—that not only was she like her mother, but she’d end up like her as well. Her mother had overdressed, overdone and had always fallen short. Always just been a woman with two daughters and too many responsibilities. A woman alone.
Feeling out of place here didn’t help her frame of mind, merely heightened a fear Catherine normally suppressed. Unlike the wealthy Montgomerys, the Luck family had barely made ends meet, had lived on shop specials. And that was when things were good.
Although she lived a world apart from her roots, Catherine wasn’t foolish enough to think a woman who once wore hand-me-downs and lived in the poorer sections of Boston had anything in common with this elegant and sexy man.
“Well, if you won’t unburden yourself, we can go back to you doing your job. Another drink?” he asked. “Mine’s gone flat.” His deep voice vibrated too close to her ear. An unexpected tremor of excitement shimmied throughout her body.
“So has your routine,” she said and grinned.
“Listen to the woman, sonny boy,” Emma Montgomery said in her cultured voice.
“Go away. You’re ruining my attempt at convincing the lady to give me a chance.”
“Sounded to me like you were failing miserably.”
Catherine laughed aloud.
“Eavesdroppers don’t get the whole story. She was on the verge of agreeing to go for a drink when the party ended.”
“I was?”
He stretched his arm over the back of the chair.
“You were.” His fingertips brushed her shoulder and she trembled. One drink. She met his heavy gaze and wondered, why not?
“I always knew my grandson had good taste.”
The older woman’s words provided the answer.
It was one thing to have a drink with a good-looking guy, another to form illusions about a man who belonged to a family as wealthy as the Montgomerys. They would never accept her. Not on a bet. Not even if Emma Montgomery demanded it…and Catherine couldn’t help doubting whether Emma would be as gracious toward Catherine regarding her grandson as she had been regarding business. She now under stood Judge Montgomery’s stern warning and obvious disdain. He didn’t want her anywhere near his son.
Emma patted her hand. “Lovely party, Catherine. You exceeded my expectations.”
A little while ago, Catherine would have agreed. After the last ten minutes, she had to wonder. And if there was anything Catherine hated, it was self-doubt and self-pity. She had to get away from these people before she lost the one thing she treasured: her faith in herself. Hardwon faith.
She swallowed over the lump in her throat and glanced at her watch. Almost over. “I have to get back to work.”
“You mean you don’t want my company after all?” His eyes clouded. A wounded little boy look graced his chiseled features. If she wasn’t careful, she’d believe she’d hurt his feelings. But the most she’d possibly offended was his pride. Protecting her heart was worth the sacrifice.
She watched Emma Montgomery’s retreating, regal form. His grandmother. Catherine shook her head, disappointed. She turned back to the privileged son. “I’m not sure what you’re after, but I can’t provide it.”
“Cut me some slack. Company’s all I’m looking for. Your company.”
She narrowed her eyes and she tried to gauge his sincerity. His gaze, once steady on her face, had slipped to her thigh. She glanced down. The hem of her miniskirt had bent up, exposing an expanse of skin hidden beneath the sheer black stockings. It wasn’t much, but she’d revealed more than she’d wanted Prince Charming to see.
Company, her Aunt Fanny. She looked like an easy mark. Regret surged through her—it wasn’t strong enough to douse the flame of desire he’d ignited, but she wasn’t about to get burned. Or let him see he’d flustered her.
She left the skirt hem alone. “Sorry, I have other plans.”
He shrugged and raised his hands in a gesture of defeat. “Okay. But you can’t deny me another drink.”
Because she was being paid to do the honors. She didn’t appreciate the reminder. She shrugged. “I can’t discriminate. It’s my job.”
“You wound me.”
“You’ll live.” She sounded too breathless for her own liking. Yet he was right. She couldn’t turn him away. Worse, she didn’t want to.
But the sooner she gave him his drink, the sooner he’d be on his way. He wouldn’t hang around her the rest of the afternoon being shot down. No matter how much she wished otherwise. “Okay, hotshot, tell me what I can get you.”
LOGAN DOUBTED SHE WANTED to hear his real desire. Especially since it involved them both in a horizontal position with their naked bodies crushed together in a sweaty tangle beneath the sheets. Or in the pool cabana behind the bar.
“Hurry up. I need to refill the serving trays with champagne,” she whispered.
Her warm breath tickled his ear. Her scent, an intoxicating oriental blend of spices, heated the rest of his senses. The mix of perfumes emanating from the guests had grown heavy hours ago, hanging on the damp humid air. But Catherine’s stood out, sexy and unique, like the lady herself.
His gaze dropped to her thigh. When she’d bristled the first time, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t look again. But the hint of skin and the promise of what lay beneath was too much for a man to take.
She headed behind the bar, to obvious safety. Tapping her fingers impatiently against the top, she said, “I’m waiting.”
“Patience,” he murmured. “I want to make sure I get what I want.” He had one shot at capturing her interest, at making her want to get to know him as badly as he wanted to know her.
“More likely you want an excuse to linger. What I don’t know is why.” Her green eyes shimmered with curiosity.
Which, Logan decided, was better than disgust or disinterest. He wanted to linger, all right. To sit here and drink in her blond beauty and sassy mouth. Logan eyed her warily, then reminded himself she may be female, but she wasn’t a mind reader.
She might sense that he wanted more than her company—and she was right. But as much as he desired her, it was too soon for that to be an issue.
He’d have to take it slow. “What I want is something special,” he said thinking aloud. “More than a plain old beer.” He glanced down at her hands, noticing the blunt nails and clear polish for the first time. No fancy frills, colors or artifice to this woman, he thought and was more than pleased. He leaned over the edge of the bar. “I want you to create magic,” he said in a deep voice he barely recognized.
“You’re too old to believe in magic, buster.”
If the magic had left her life, he wanted to be the one to restore her faith. Bizarre how quickly she’d gotten to him, but after years of bland women and uninteresting relationships, Logan recognized a gem when he saw one.
“I’m old enough to know what I want, but not too old for you.”
“Want to bet?”
“I’m a gambling man.” He reached out and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. The tiny silver pendants hanging from her earlobe were intriguing. A delicate contrast to her sharp tongue and prickly exterior. He lowered his hand, letting his fingers trail down her soft cheek.
She sucked in a startled breath, then coughed into her hand. “Don’t read too much into that. I swallowed wrong.”
He laughed. “You’re hell on a man’s ego.” Not that he believed her professed disinterest. The rapid flutter of a pulse beating in her neck and the flush of pink that stained her neck and cheeks betrayed her.
“All in a day’s work.” She smiled.
The flash of white teeth revealed two dimples on either side of her luscious lips. He vowed to taste that smile before the night was out.
“Speak or scram,” Catherine said. “What do you want, Mr. Montgomery?”
Time was running out. He glanced into her eyes before leaning close and whispering in her ear.
TO MAKE YOUR DREAMS come true. A thrill spun its way through her veins. At least fifty guests and party favors later, and she still couldn’t suppress the tremor of excitement Logan’s words brought. Thanks to his husky tone, she knew what he desired, but the sincerity in his eyes made her want to believe he meant more than a cheap fling. Yet after those heart-stealing words, he’d stood, reminded her she had other guests waiting and left, walking through the double doors and into the Montgomery mansion. He’d never looked back.
Her instincts had been right. He’d seen her as an interesting diversion. When she hadn’t proved easy, he couldn’t be bothered with the chase. She shrugged. No big deal. Hadn’t she already backed off herself?
So why was the disappointment so lingering?
She had no doubt Logan Montgomery was a man capable of fulfilling every fantasy she’d imagined and some she probably hadn’t. Just the thought of him made her body hum with a sexual awareness she couldn’t mistake. Oh, he’d be good and she’d enjoy herself, but this was a man capable of getting inside her soul.
They weren’t meant to happen. Not without someone getting hurt. She being the someone who came to mind. One reckless night wasn’t worth a sacrifice in self-worth.
And he obviously wasn’t interested in pursuing more.
Over the next hour, the clouds darkened and the guests began a slow trickling out of the estate. The budget on this party had enabled her to splurge on everything, including cleanup, and the crew was waiting to take over. The woman they’d hired as manager would supervise the next shift. By this evening, no remnants of the party would remain. Catherine had no reason to stay.
She edged past the few remaining guests and slipped into the wide entryway that led to the coatroom in the foyer. Yellow and white satin wrapped around the circular staircase in the corner and draped like border paper high on the walls. More than once, she cringed as her sneakered feet squeaked against the freshly waxed marble floor. She entered the closet that was larger than the room she’d shared with her sister growing up and hit the light switch on the wall.
Despite the ominous clouds, the day had started off with potential and the closet was empty of jackets and coats. Catherine’s rain slicker, brought more out of foresight than need, stood out in the empty room.