Don’t Call Me Sweetheart (4 page)

BOOK: Don’t Call Me Sweetheart
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Whitney gasped, unable to believe that even Tess would be so
bold but Christian seemed highly amused.

“Think you’re up for it, big fella?”

“Depends. Does she cater to these preferences often?”
Christian asked, his full lips stretched into a lecherous grin.

“Constantly, all in the name of research of course.”

Whitney, clearly beside herself with shock, was ready to
throttle Tess. If she didn’t know better she could have sworn her friend was
possessed.

Her outraged expression must have registered with both Tess
and Christian at the same time. They broke into simultaneous laughter, leaving
Whitney to wonder what was so amusing.

“You’ll have to forgive us, Whitney.” Tess was laughing so
hard she had difficulty speaking clearly. “We’d go on like this for hours back
in college. I guess we didn’t stop to think how it might have sounded to you,
love.”

Whitney eyed her skeptically, drumming her fingers in
agitation on the table. “Don’t you dare let him believe those awful things
about Lane, Tess,” she protested vehemently. “You know she’s not at all like
that.”

“You’re right, of course,” Tess said in a conciliatory tone
of voice, tricking Whitney into relaxing much too soon. “She would never accept
anyone’s word for your experience,” she continued, grinning from ear to ear at
Christian. “She’ll definitely demand that audition. Best eat hearty, man.”

The wolfish smile on Christian’s face did nothing to pacify
Whitney’s outrage. It was clear that neither of them was going to take the
reputation of her alter ego seriously. Tess seemed satisfied to let the man
think the worst about her…er Lane McLaughlin. Whoever!

One look at Whitney’s furious expression prompted Tess to
apologize a second time. In a fashion.

“Oh, Okay. Listen Christian,” she began, having trouble
controlling the mischievous smile pulling on the corners of her mouth, “Lane
McLaughlin is actually the kindest, gentlest soul you could ever hope to meet. She
teaches Sunday school every week, feeds the homeless and rocks sick babies at
the hospital in her spare time.”

There was no hope for Tess, Whitney sighed. She was, quite
simply, doomed to burn in hell.

“I find I’m more inclined to believe Tess’ first description
of your boss, Whitney. You have to admit that if she can write the way she does
about some of life’s more pleasurable pursuits a person might assume she’s had
more than her fair share of practice.”

Well. Don’t you know every woman has an imagination, you
pompous jackass,
Whitney thought bristling, ready to defend her pen name’s
personality but the waiter chose that particular moment to return and take
their orders. While Tess and Christian were occupied she clutched her crystal
goblet and took a large gulp of water, trying to calm her jumbled nerves.

She had to admit that Christian was certainly everything
Tess had implied when they had talked that morning. Whitney realized she hadn’t
been warned about their charming companion on purpose and now, the conniving
cupid who had masterminded this fiasco was positively reveling in the trouble
she was causing.

She was a dead woman.

Whitney felt Christian’s eyes swing back to once again study
her as the waiter departed and she squirmed uncomfortably. This friend of Tess’
wasn’t like any of the other men who managed to catch her eye. And that, she
was quick to point out to no one in particular, was precisely the problem. Christian
just wasn’t like other men. At all.

That might explain why she was experiencing such wildly
uncharacteristic thoughts. This entire scenario was probably just a wicked
little dream conjured up by her lonely, long suppressed libido.

Maybe it all boiled down to her imagination deciding some of
her other, lesser used, parts would enjoy the attention of the consummate male centerfold
and so it had conjured him up for her viewing pleasure. She would wake up soon
enough and everything would be back to normal.

Whitney met Christian’s steady gaze across the table and
trembled. Centerfolds were something you looked at but they didn’t stare back
with such compelling magnetism. Her breath quickened and once again she felt
the color rising in her cheeks. If Christian was a dream and she was completely
honest with herself, she didn’t really want to wake up.

It took a moment to realize that Tess was tapping the back
of her hand with the tines of her fork.

“Helloooo! If you’re not too preoccupied in there I’d like
to take a look at the manuscript that’s going to make us all sinfully rich.”

“Oh-oh, of course,” Whitney stammered as she fumbled for the
forgotten briefcase that had slipped unnoticed to the floor.

“What’s the title of this little bombshell I’ve been hired
to represent?” Christian asked as he reached to intercept the manuscript as it
passed midway between Whitney and Tess.

Whitney felt a burst of awareness race unchecked like an
out-of-control prairie fire to every nerve in her body when his fingers glanced
of hers. “
The Banker’s Kiss,”
she replied weakly.

“How perfect,” Tess purred with a sideways glance at
Christian, moving to allow the waiter room to set her salad on the table before
her. “Whitney, did you know that Christian is really a very successful banker?”

No, I guess you left out that little tidbit along with
the news that our lunch guest would be someone I wouldn’t be able to tear my
eyes from.

“If he’s a banker, excuse me, a successful banker, why is he
bothering to pose for the cover of a book?”

Whitney almost addressed the question directly to Christian
but at the last moment lost her nerve. It was unsettling to discover just how
quickly this man’s presence could turn her usually dauntless demeanor into a disheveled
mess of mixed-up emotions.

“I suppose you could say his assets were inadequate for an
unexpected need,” Tess laughed, answering for her newly hired cover model. Whitney
seriously doubted that Christian Dade had ever found his assets inadequate for
anything. “Actually,” Tess continued, “I’ve been trying for years to convince
Christian that he could have a spectacular career modeling, so when he called
last week to see if I was still of the same opinion there was only one answer I
could give.”

“Does that mean that you’re moonlighting, or have you given
up your banking career?” Whitney finally ventured, determined to participate in
the conversation like an adult, rather than a tongue-tied schoolgirl.

“This is temporary, more like a stop along the way to some
plans I’ve had for some time,” Christian replied, his words clipped and
suddenly much more formal. A distant look clouded his dark eyes for a moment
and Whitney was surprised to catch a glimpse of raw pain lurking in their
depths before he could mask it. “To answer your question though, no, I don’t
plan to ever return to my former profession.”

“That means he’s completely at our disposal for a while,”
Tess interjected, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at Whitney. The look was
returned with an open glare.

“I’ve got connections and will try to line up more covers
for you, Christian, to go along with some other projects I’ve got in mind,” the
perky publicist went on, absently pushing a piece of lettuce around on her
plate. “But between jobs you might like to take in a bit of the city.”

The sly look Whitney intercepted from Tess set off warning
bells. “Now that the new manuscript has been delivered, I’m sure Whitney will
have lots of spare time on her hands. Come to think of it, Lane owes me a favor
so I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if we borrowed Whitney and asked her to show you
a good time for the next few days.”

Whitney was horrified when Christian turned to her
expectantly. No! She couldn’t!

“I wouldn’t want to be an imposition,” Christian commented
in that deep, husky voice that made her insides melt like ice cream on the
Fourth of July. He gave her what she was sure must be one of his most charming
smiles for added incentive. The kind of smile that usually made it easy for her
to leave a man licking his wounds, sorry he had ever suggested she spend time
alone with him. Where was the Whitney she counted on to make mincemeat out of
overconfident Romeos like Christian Dade when she needed her?

Whitney felt trapped. Her nerves were screaming for her to
agree to anything this man suggested. Show him the city, show him a good time…show
him the naughty tingling flesh encased beneath the scalloped edges of her lacy
bra that was yearning for his touch. But even after a year her heart was still
raw and bleeding from another’s man’s promises of good times. And the lies that
had fallen so sweetly from his lips as he whispered to her of his love. She
hadn’t been able to trust Jon then and she wouldn’t make the mistake of
trusting this man now.

She still carried the emotional scars accumulated learning
that, for her, it was best to keep her emotions under lock and key. She wasn’t
willing to open another Pandora’s Box for just another handsome face. Even if
the owner was capable of making her heart thunder against the walls of her
chest with the barest of glances.

At the moment though, what else could she say other than to
politely offer to accompany Christian. A tight smile graced her full lips and
she really did try her best to sound sincere. “I’d be delighted to show you
around, Mr. Dade. What would like to see first?”

Whitney had no way of knowing Christian was busy envisioning
a number of things he would like to see, both with her and on her and none of
them involved tourist attractions. His reply was full of the type of undertones
she had heard so many times before but had always been able to toss back with
ease. “I’ve seen quite a bit that interests me already but I’m sure you have a
much better idea of what a novice to New York would enjoy. Anything you suggest
will be fine.” On impulse he added, “I had planned to take a carriage ride
through Central Park with a beautiful woman one evening though. I wouldn’t feel
like I’d been to New York unless I make time for that. What would you think of
dinner and a ride tonight?”

Central Park in the moonlight. With him? Her turbo-charged
instincts were going wild trying to steer her away from one very tempting, very
virile Christian Dade.

She started to protest, “I don’t think—”

Tess cut in and finished the sentence for her, “Tonight
would work. Of course, Whitney, you’re right. You mentioned earlier that you
already had plans but if I remember correctly you said tomorrow night would be
just another boring evening spent watching TV with that cat of yours.”

Whitney shot Tess a look that could kill before turning a
saccharine smile Christian’s direction. “Tess is right. Tomorrow evening would
work much better for me. Would that be all right?”

“I can hardly wait,” Christian replied quietly and the glint
of interest in his ebony perusal ensured Whitney that she would have a hard
time waiting as well.

“I’ll make it easy for both of you,” Tess said. Whitney
braced herself since every time Tess had opened her mouth during the last hour
had resulted in more embarrassment for her. “Since I need to meet Christian at
the photo studio right after lunch I’ll swing by and bring Whitney into the
city with me. That way you’ll both be together and ready for an evening of
whatever.”

Laying a slim hand across Christian’s tanned forearm Tess
told him in a conspiratorial tone, “Whitney lives on Lane’s estate waaayout
in the sticks. It would cost you a fortune in cab fare just to find the place
so, you see, I’m really doing you a huge favor.”

Whitney stared at Tess in disbelief. For whatever
unfathomable, unforgivable reason, Tess had just served her to Christian like
she was one of the tantalizing treats from the dessert cart passing by. She had
been manipulated from the moment she picked up the phone that morning but for
the life of her she couldn’t figure out why. Luckily she didn’t need to. Tess
would tell her. Gladly. And she’d do it right now.

Whitney turned to her long-time friend and prepared to do
battle.

“Tess, I’m going to the ladies’ room. Why don’t you join me?”
The question didn’t sound remotely like an invitation to any one of the three.

“Oh, no thanks,” Tess tried to decline but found her arm
gripped in a very unladylike manner as Whitney passed behind her chair.

“Oh,” Whitney said in her best imitation of Tess’ flip
comment, “I’m afraid I’m just going to have to insist this time.”

Christian watched the two of them disappear around a corner,
a wide smile splitting his face for the first time in weeks. What he wouldn’t
give to hear that conversation.

Whitney waited until the door clicked shut before she let go
of the tightly held constraint she had been maintaining on her temper.

“Okay, you have exactly thirty seconds to tell me something
that I might,just might, believe that will explain why I feel like I
was the main course out there!” She made no attempt to disguise her annoyance
as she stood tapping her foot to the beat of a furious staccato.

“I haven’t the slightest notion what you’re talking about,
Whitney,” Tess replied in a deliberately vague voice. She was the picture of
wide-eyed innocence as she leaned toward the mirror and applied fresh lipstick.

“Oh yes you do. You practically threw me to that wolf out
there knowing full well how I feel about situations like this. I thought you
were my friend.”

“Christian’s such a beauuutiful beast though,” she
countered, her eyes assuming a sultry, bedroom slant. “There aren’t many women
who would mind being tossed in his direction.”

“I’m one of the ones who would.” Whitney growled as she
stepped closer and pinned Tess’ eyes with her own in the mirror’s reflection.

“I just thought you might enjoy a little fun and excitement
in your otherwise quiet little life.”

BOOK: Don’t Call Me Sweetheart
2.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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