Substitute Seduction
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“Really—” Her instincts screamed at her to retreat. Her susceptibility to this man could prove dangerous.
“You think I’m hitting on you because I want to sleep with every woman I meet.”
“I wouldn’t dream of thinking such a thing,” she murmured in her most guileless drawl as she glanced down at her legal pad and noticed she’d been drawing hearts. She quickly flipped to a clean page and set down her pen.
“Don’t go all Scarlett O’Hara on me,” Harrison replied. “I’m not going to lie and tell you I don’t see us ending up in bed, but I fully intend on making it about the journey and not the destination.”
Outrage poured through London, but there was a certain amount of amusement and curiosity mixed in, as well. Damn the man. His plain speaking was having the wrong sort of effect on her.
“You seem pretty sure of yourself,” she said. “What makes you think I’m interested in you that way?”
“The fact that you’re still here discussing it with me instead of kicking me to the curb.”
“Do you honestly think you’re the first client who has hit on me?”
“I’m sure I’m not.” He didn’t look at all concerned by her attitude. “But I’m guessing you’re going to give me a different answer than all the others.”
It pained her that he was right. Nor could she console herself with the falsehood that she would turn him down flat if it wasn’t for this pact she’d made with Zoe and Everly.
“I’ll have dinner with you tonight,” she said. “But I get to pick the place and I’ll meet you there.”
“And I promise to behave like a proper gentleman.”
She snorted. “There’s nothing proper or gentlemanly about you, I think.” A delicious shiver worked its way down her spine at the thought. “Do you agree to my conditions?”
“If they make you feel safe, then how can I not?”
His use of the word safe made her bristle. She hadn’t set conditions because of any nervousness she felt around him, but to make him understand that she wasn’t one of those women who flatter and swoon all in the hope of achieving that elusive five-carat sparkler for their left hand.
“How about we meet at The Front Porch at eight o’clock.”
“That’s perfect.”
She then steered the conversation back to the original reason for their meeting. “It would be a good idea if we could meet next week and check out a couple of the venues,” she told him, already having a pretty good idea of the sort of elegant evening she intended to organize.
“I’ll be back in town next Monday and Tuesday.”
She picked up her phone and pulled up her calendar. “I’m open Monday afternoon, say two o’clock? The faster we book a location, the sooner we can start working on the details. And I’ll pull some ideas together and send them along to you this week.”
“Sounds great.”
They’d arrived at an obvious end to their meeting and Harrison stood. As London escorted him to the front door, he asked, “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to come watch me race in Richmond?”
London’s eyes flicked to her receptionist. Missy was paying rapt attention to their exchange without actually staring at them. Heat bloomed beneath London’s skin as she realized that word would soon spread about Harrison’s invitation.
“I don’t know...”
“You could bring your friend. Maribelle, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” To her dismay, London’s mood had dipped at the thought of sharing his attention. “I mean, yes, my friend is Maribelle. She’s a huge fan. Both her and her fiancé, Beau.”
“Bring them both along. I’ll get you seats in our suite.”
London considered how enthusiastic her friend had been after meeting Harrison. It surprised her that someone who had been trained from birth to epitomize a gracious Southern lady had an interest in such a loud and tedious sport. All the drivers did was go around and around in circles at high speeds for three hours. How could that possibly keep anyone interested?
“I’ll see if she’s busy and let you know.” The words were out before London could second-guess herself.
She needed access to Tristan, and Harrison was the perfect way in. From the way her pulse triggered every time he smiled at her, acting interested wouldn’t be a problem. She just needed to be careful that she kept her body’s impulses in check and her mind focused on the revenge bargain.
Harrison looked a little surprised that she’d changed her mind, but then a grin slowly formed on his face. “Great.”
“Wonderful,” she murmured, reaching out to shake his hand.
She’d begun the gesture as a professional event planner, but as his long fingers enveloped hers, a jolt of electricity surged up her arm. The raw, compelling reaction left London wobbly. She couldn’t let herself be distracted right now. Not when she had a mission and Harrison played an integral part in accomplishing it.
Capitalizing on his interest in her was one thing. Reciprocating the attraction would only lead to trouble.
“See you at eight.”
Aware that they were still holding hands, London pulled her fingers free. “Eight,” she echoed, glad Harrison had the sense not to gloat as she opened the front door and gestured him onto the sidewalk. “In the meantime, I’ll keep you informed as we confirm availability on the potential venues.”
After they said goodbye, she wasted no time watching him walk away, but immediately turned to her receptionist. Seeing that Missy was making a poor effort at busywork, London gathered herself to scold her and then realized if she’d been worried about the scene playing out in front of an audience, she should’ve taken him outside.
“Let me know what you hear from the venues,” she said, heading for her office.
With a whoosh of breath, she plunked down on her office chair and ignored the slight shake in her hands as she jiggled the mouse to deactivate her screensaver. However, as she struggled to refocus on what she’d been working on before Harrison had shown up, peeling her thoughts away from the handsome race-car driver proved challenging.
Unsure what to make of his confessed interest in her and invitation to dinner tonight, she contemplated her legal pad and the mixture of notes and doodles. No fewer than ten hearts lined the margins and swooped across the page. What had she been thinking?
London opened a file on her computer for the event and typed in her notes before tearing the page into tiny pieces.
Going forward she needed to take a firmer grip on her subconscious or heaven only knew what might happen.
Once her initial work on the fortieth birthday party was done, London dialed Maribelle to give her a heads-up about all that had transpired and to extend Harrison’s invitation to watch him race on Sunday.
“Beau will be thrilled,” Maribelle said. “Do you think Harrison can get us into the pit on race day?”
“Maybe. I can find out what that entails.” She traced her fingertips over the twenty-five she’d once again doodled on her legal pad. At least there were no hearts this time. “We’re having dinner tonight.”
Maribelle’s squeal forced London to pull the phone away from her ear. “See, I knew he was interested in you. Where are you going? Is he taking you somewhere romantic? Are you going to sleep with him? I would. I bet he’s great in bed. He’s so sexy with that dark hair and those blue-green eyes. And that body. I read that he’s in crazy great shape. What I wouldn’t give to get my hands on him.”
Maribelle’s rapid-fire remarks left no room for London to speak. She really shouldn’t sleep with Harrison Crosby, but any argument about what a bad idea it was would fall on deaf ears.
“Need I remind you that you’re engaged? You better tone down your fan-girling,” London warned. “Beau might not appreciate you heaping praise on another man.”
“Don’t you worry. My Beau knows while my eyes might wander my heart never will.”
It was such a sweet and solemn declaration that London felt a flare of envy. Had she ever embraced that level of dedication to Linc? Not that she’d needed to. Once she’d settled on him as her future mate, she’d never looked at anyone else. And until the very end, she’d thought Linc felt the same. Her trust in him had never wavered despite all the women she knew must be throwing themselves at him while he was out of town during baseball season. She’d never imagined her competition would be someone so unassuming and close to home.
“You’re lucky to have each other,” London said and meant it.
“You’ll find someone,” Maribelle returned, her tone low and fierce. “And he will love you and make you feel safe.”
Again that word safe. And again, London flinched. She was a strong, capable woman who didn’t need a man to make her feel safe. Yet even as her thoughts trailed over this mantra, a tiny part of her clenched in hungry longing. What would it be like to be taken care of? Not physically or financially, but emotionally supported. To be part of a devoted team like Maribelle and Beau.
It was something she hadn’t known growing up. Her parents had burdened her with huge—if differing—expectations. Her father was an autocratic businessman who’d impressed upon her that absolute success was the only option. London had spent her childhood living in terror that she would be criticized for not achieving high enough marks. She’d undertaken a rigorous class schedule, participated in student government, women’s soccer and debate club, and couldn’t remember a time during her high school and college years when she wasn’t worn out or anxiety ridden.
Nor was her mother any less demanding. If her father expected her to succeed professionally, her mother had her sights set on London’s social achievements. To that end, there had been hours of volunteer work and social events her mother dragged her to. Becoming engaged to Linc had been a triumph. But even then it grew obvious that no matter how much London did, it was never enough.
“I just texted Beau,” Maribelle said. “He suggests we fly up on Saturday and back on Sunday. So we can see the practice rounds. Will that work for you? Usually you have parties on Saturday night, don’t you?”
As easy as it would be to use work as an excuse, she heard the excitement in her friend’s voice and sighed in surrender. “All we have is a small anniversary party and Annette is handling that.” To London’s surprise, she realized she was looking forward to getting out of town. She’d been working like a madwoman since Linc had ended their engagement. Keeping busy was the best way to avoid dwelling on her failed relationship. “And since Beau is flying us up, I’ll take care of the hotel rooms.”
“We should go shopping for something to wear. In fact, we should go shopping right now.”
London imagined her friend grabbing her purse and heading for her car. “What’s the hurry?”
“I need to make sure you wear something on your date tonight that doesn’t scream I’m not interested in getting laid.”
“I’m not,” London protested.
“Have you been with anyone since Linc?”
London winced. “You know I haven’t.”
“You need a rebound relationship. I think Harrison Crosby would be perfect.”
That Maribelle had echoed what London herself had been thinking less than an hour earlier didn’t surprise her. The two women had been friends so long they sometimes finished each other’s sentences.
“Why do you say that?” London asked.
“Because he’s the furthest thing from someone you’d ever settle down with, so that makes him a good bet for a casual fling.”
London was warming to the idea of a quick, steamy interlude with the sexy race-car driver. Still, she’d never slept with anyone she didn’t have feelings for. Yet with what she, Everly and Zoe were up to, maybe the fact that London wasn’t going to fall for the guy was a plus.
“You might be right.”
Maybe it would be okay to give sexual chemistry and a casual relationship a quick spin. They were both adults. What harm could it do?
Three
Harrison arrived at The Front Porch ten minutes early and parked himself at the bar in easy range of the entrance to wait for London’s arrival. Since leaving her office that morning, he’d been half expecting she’d call to cancel. With each hour that passed, he’d grown increasingly confident that she wasn’t going to fight their mutual attraction. Yet now, as he counted down the minutes until she walked in, he found his stomach tying itself into anxious knots.
Her effect on him should’ve sent him running in the opposite direction. Already he suspected that they were at odds on several fundamental issues. For one thing, she wasn’t his type and it was pretty clear he wasn’t hers. She was elegant and aloof. Completely the opposite of the fun-loving ladies who hung out at the track, enjoyed drinking beer and weren’t afraid to get a little dirty.
He imagined she’d be bossy as hell in a relationship. Tonight was a good example. She’d chosen the time and place, taking control, making it clear if he wanted to play, it would be by her rules. Harrison smirked. She could make all the rules she wanted. He’d bend every one.
The restaurant’s front door opened, and before Harrison had fully focused on the woman on the threshold, his heart gave a hard jerk. For someone accustomed to facing near collisions at ridiculous speeds and regularly operating at high levels of stress for long periods of time without faltering, Harrison wasn’t sure what to make of the jolt London’s arrival had given him.
For the space of several irregular breaths as her gaze swept the restaurant in search of him, Harrison had the opportunity to take her in. She’d changed her clothes since their earlier meeting and looked stunning in a navy dress with a broad neckline that bared her delicate shoulders and the hollows above her collarbones. The material hugged her upper body, highlighting the curves of her breasts, before flaring into a full skirt that stopped at her knees. The dark color contrasted with the creamy tones of her pale skin and highlighted her blue eyes. She’d pulled her hair back into a loose knot at the base of her neck and left long strands of gold waves to frame her face. Her only jewelry was a pair of simple pearl earrings.
When she spotted him, her uncertain smile hit Harrison like lightning. His nerves buzzed in the aftermath as he made his way through the crowded bar toward her.
“You look gorgeous,” he murmured, cupping his fingers around her bare arm and leaning down to graze a kiss across her cheek.
Her body tensed at his familiarity, but her smile remained in place as he stepped back and looked down at her.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice neither breathless nor coy. She took in his jeans, light blue shirt and oatmeal-colored blazer. “You look quite dapper,” she said, reaching out to tug at the navy pocket square in his breast pocket.
“I’m glad you approve,” he said and meant it. “And I’m glad you were able to join me for dinner tonight.”
“You were kind to invite me.”
Niceties concluded, Harrison set his hand on her back and guided her toward the hostess. They were led to a table by the front windows overlooking King Street.
“Do you come here a lot?” Harrison asked after they were seated. He scanned the menu, which specialized in farm-to-table fare, and settled on the scallops with smoked yogurt, beets and pistachio.
“Actually, I’ve never been, but it’s one of Maribelle and Beau’s favorite places. They had their first date here and...it’s where he proposed.” Her eyes widened as if she realized what she’d implied. “They’re always going on and on about how good the food is. That’s why I picked it.”
“Can’t wait to see if they’re right.”
“So, you’ve never been here before?”
Harrison shook his head. “I don’t get out much.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true. I’m on the road so much of the year that when I do get home, I like to hole up and recharge.”
“You do?”
“Most of my time and attention is focused on cars and racing. Analyzing my competition, studying the track, figuring out how I can improve.”
“I did a little research on you and learned you’re a big deal in racing.” Bright spots of color appeared in her cheeks as he raised his eyebrows at her confession. “Lots of appearances and events.”
“All to promote Crosby Motorsports. I’m actually an introvert.” He could tell she wasn’t buying it.
“You can’t possibly be. You’re a fan favorite with a huge following.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I do my share of press events and meeting fans, but it isn’t what I enjoy. I’d much rather be tinkering with a car or hanging out with a few of my friends.”
She made a face. “I figured you would be out in the public, soaking up the accolades, enjoying your stardom.”
Her thorny tone made him frown. “You seem to have a very jaded view of me. Why is that?”
“It’s not you.” She moved her wineglass around in circles on the white tablecloth and seemed engrossed in the light refracted by the liquid. “I guess it’s what you do. I’ve spent a lot of time around sports stars and most of them love being celebrities. The adoring fans. The special attention they get wherever they go. It makes them act...entitled.”
Obviously her attitude had been formed during her relationship with Lincoln Thurston. As a professional baseball player, no doubt Thurston had enjoyed his share of the limelight. Harrison needed to convince her he and her ex-fiancé weren’t cut from the same cloth.
“Not all of them,” Harrison insisted.
“Most of them.”
“Was Linc that way?” He’d asked, even knowing that it was risky to probe for details about what might be painful for her.
“I don’t want to talk about him.” London’s brittle tone was a warning to Harrison that he should tread carefully.
Still, he needed to know where her head was at. “Because you’re still not over the breakup?”
How could she be? He’d done his own bit of research on her and discovered only a few months had passed since their two-year engagement ended.
“I am over it.” The bits of gold floating in London’s blue eyes flashed.
“Are you over him?”
She exhaled in exasperation. “We were together for three years.”
“So that’s a no?”
London’s expression hardened into a look that Harrison interpreted as back off. That wasn’t going to stop him. This woman was worth fighting for.
“I can’t imagine what having him break your engagement must have been like for you, but I am happy to listen if you want to dump on the guy.” He paused and then grinned. “Or the male gender as a whole.”
From her frown, he could see his offer had confused her.
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Because I think too many men suck in the way they treat women.”
“And you don’t?” Her earlier tension faded into skepticism.
“I’m sure you can find plenty of women who would complain about me.”
One corner of her lips twitched. “So what, then, makes you so different from all the other men out there?”
“Maybe nothing. Or maybe it’s the case that I don’t take advantage of people because I can. I’m not an entitled jerk like my brother can be all too often.” Harrison brought up Tristan to see how London reacted. She’d shown far too much interest in him at the party and Harrison wanted to understand why. “Tristan treats women like they’re his personal playground.”
“But until recently he’s been married. Are you insinuating he wasn’t faithful?” London’s interest intensified when Harrison shook his head. “I’ve never understood why men bother being in a relationship if they intend to cheat.”
Harrison recalled what his uncle Bennett had told him about Linc Thurston’s infidelity. London had every right to be skittish when it came to trusting any guy she perceived as having the same sort of fame and fortune as her ex-fiancé.
“It’s a social norm.”
London looked positively dumbstruck. “Is that what you think?”
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Harrison countered.
“What about love?”
“Not everyone believes in love. I don’t think my brother does. Tristan chose to marry a very beautiful, very young, woman who was passive and pliable. For eight years she satisfied his need for a decorative and docile companion.” Harrison recalled how Zoe’s spirit dimmed with each wedding anniversary. “Her only failure was in her inability to make my brother happy.”
“Why was that her responsibility?” London asked in surprise. “Isn’t marriage a partnership where you support each other?”
“Mine will be.” Harrison waited a beat to see how she absorbed that before continuing, “I think Zoe’s dissatisfaction with her role grew too strong to be contained. One thing about Tristan—he likes having his way and becomes a bear if events run counter to his preferences. I imagine him perceiving Zoe’s discontent as nothing he’d done wrong, but a failing on her part.”
London absorbed his assessment for several seconds before asking, “How close are you with his ex-wife?”
“I like Zoe. She’s quiet and subdued, but once you get to know her you see that she has a warm heart and a wry sense of humor.” He could go on extolling her virtues but decided to keep to his original purpose, which was to make sure London understood that Tristan wasn’t a good guy. “She deserved better than my brother.”
“I hope she appreciated having you as her champion.”
“I don’t know about that. If I’d been a better friend, I would’ve steered her away from marrying Tristan.”
“You might not have been able to do that. Sometimes we have to make our own mistakes. It’s the only way we learn.”
“Maybe, but some mistakes carry harsher consequences than others.”
London sat back and let her hands slide into her lap. She regarded him steadily with her keen blue eyes. “You aren’t what I expected.”
“I hope that’s a good thing.”
“The jury is still out,” she said, an enigmatic smile kicking up the corners of her lips. “So, Mr. Introvert, what is it you enjoy besides cars and racing?”
“The usual guy stuff. Outdoor sports. Spending time with my friends. How about you? What do you do when you’re not working?”
She laughed. “Sleep and eat. Sometimes I get a massage or facial. I have a hard time unwinding.”
“Sounds like we’re both on the go a lot.”
“Like a shark. Swim or die.”
The phone in her purse chimed. She’d set the clutch on the table beside her plate and now made a face at it. “Sorry.” The tone repeated.
“Do you need to get that?”
“No.” She heaved a sigh. “I already know what it’s about.”
“That’s impressive,” he teased and was rewarded with a grimace.
“About this weekend...”
Something in her tone made him grin. “You’ve decided to accept my invitation to watch me race in Richmond.”
“I spoke with Maribelle,” she replied. “Both she and her fiancé are excited about your offer.”
Her carefully worded statement left room for interpretation. “What about you?”
“I’m not sure what I’m getting into, so I’m reserving judgment.”
“I guess that’s something,” he murmured, convinced he would win her over.
“We’re flying up Saturday morning,” she continued, ignoring his dry remark. “And Beau was wondering if you’d be able to get us into the pit. At least I think that’s what he wanted to know.”
“Absolutely.”
She’d been seated facing the restaurant’s entrance and suddenly her eyes went wide in surprise. Harrison drew a breath to ask what was wrong when she shifted her attention back to him and smiled brightly.
“You know...” she began, picking up her purse. “Maybe I should double-check the text to make sure nothing is amiss.” She gave a nervous half laugh. “The pitfall of being the boss is that I’m always on call. Excuse me, won’t you?”
And before Harrison could say anything, she’d fled the table, leaving him staring over his shoulder after her.
* * *
Everly Briggs strode along King Street, paying little attention to the restaurants, stores and bars clustered along the popular thoroughfare. Her entire focus was on the tall man she was following.