No Strings (3 page)

“Would you like a ride home?” he asked.

She gazed at him in his jeans and tank top, tattoos visible over his chest and flowing down his arms and she couldn’t help laughing. “I just got a mental picture of you dressed just as you are now climbing into that shiny, black limo.”

He shrugged. “Sure, why not? Would you like to ride in the limo?”

She had always wanted to. It seemed so glamorous and luxurious. It would be a taste of how the other half lived.

“Or, since it’s such a nice day, we could ride my motorcycle.”

She raised her eyebrow. “You have a motorcycle?”

“That’s right. It’s over there.” He nodded his head toward a big, gleaming, burgundy Harley parked on the street in front of the shop. “But I know some women are a little intimidated by them.”

Melanie laughed. “Not me. I’ve always wanted to ride one.” She walked to the big machine and ran her fingers over the soft, black, leather seat. “I would love to ride with you.”

His lips turned up in a devilish grin. “Really?”

She glanced at him and realized her statement might have sounded a little … sexual. Suddenly, an image washed through her of straddling Rafe, and slowly moving up and down on him, his big erection buried deep inside her. A wild surge of hormones vibrated through her.

As her cheeks blossomed with heat, she flicked her gaze to the seat again. “Um, yeah. It would be a real adventure. Then I can cross two items off my bucket list—getting a tattoo and riding a motorcycle.”

“I never knew you had such a wild side.”

Before she could respond, he opened the back compartment and handed her a helmet, then pulled one on himself.

She opened her bag and grabbed the light sweater she’d brought with her and started to pull it on. Ever the gentleman, Rafe grabbed it and held it up for her so she could easily push her arms into the sleeves. As she zipped it up, he pulled a black leather jacket from the storage bin and put it on.

Oh, man, he looked incredibly hot in denim and leather. He mounted the bike and she climbed on behind him.

Once she was settled, he glanced back at her. “You sure you want to go straight home?”

“No, take me for a ride.” She smiled.

The big machine roared to life.

“Hold on,” he said.

Melanie gazed at the broad shoulders in front of her and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her heart quivered at the feel of his big body so close, then when he took off into traffic, she hung on tight, her body pressed to his solid back.

He swerved around a car that suddenly pulled into traffic and she gasped, a surge of adrenaline shooting through her, but she knew she was safe with Rafe in control.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said loudly over the sound of the engine.

Okay?
She was in heaven.

Even if she died right now, she’d be a happy woman. For so long, she had dreamed of being close to Rafe, their bodies locked together. And now, riding on the back of his bike with nothing around them but rushing wind gave her the sensation that she was flying.

He turned right and she clung tighter, her cheek pressed against his back. She breathed in the subtle smell of his leather jacket, loving the soft yet masculine feel of it against her skin.

The vibration of the big machine beneath her, coupled with the feel of his big body so close had her whole body quivering with need. Fantasies of him pulling over and sweeping her into his arms, then kissing her silly vibrated through her brain. If he did that, she just knew she’d beg him to take her back to his place and have his way with her.

He slowed down and pulled into a parking space in front of a restaurant with a patio out front. Rectangular planters filled with petunias in vivid pinks, rich purples, and white were affixed to the wrought-iron railing defining the outdoor space. He stopped the engine and, reluctantly, she released his big body, wishing she could hold onto him forever.

He dismounted and pulled off his helmet.

“You like Italian? This place is great, and casual attire is okay.”

“It looks lovely, and I adore Italian food.”

She pulled off her helmet and he stowed it with his in the hard-shelled compartment on the back of the motorcycle.

As soon as they stepped inside, a man in a suit hurried to greet them.

“Mr. Ranier, my pleasure to see you this evening. Would you like a table on the patio? Or would you prefer to be inside?”

Rafe glanced at her.

“Do you mind if we stay inside?” she asked. “In case it gets cold.”

“No problem,” the host said. “I have a table right by the window. You’ll have a lovely view.”

“Thank you, Giorgio.” Rafe gestured for Melanie to follow Giorgio as he led them to their table.

True to his word, Giorgio sat them at a table with a view of the street out front and the lovely flowers.

“The chicken marsala is one of our specials tonight. I know how much you enjoy that.” Giorgio opened a menu and set it down in front of her, then did the same for Rafe. “Also, Antonio made a special lobster-stuffed ravioli with a rosé sauce.”

A waiter placed ice water in front of them, each glass with a twist of lemon, then continued on his way.

“Lobster ravioli?” Melanie smiled. “That sounds delicious.”

“Two raviolis it is, and a carafe of the house wine.” Rafe closed his menu and handed it to Giorgio.

“Excellent.” Giorgio scooped up her menu and hurried away.

Melanie picked up the cloth napkin and laid it on her lap. When she glanced up again, Rafe’s sky blue gaze was upon her. She sipped her water, not quite sure what to do with herself.

“This is kind of strange,” she said finally.

His eyebrows hiked up. “What is?”

“Sitting here with you. In a restaurant.”

“We’ve been out for meals together before.”

“Yeah, sure. At Christmas. Usually with a couple of the other staff.”

“And on your birthday.”

It was true. He’d always been very considerate that way.

“But you were my boss. This is different.”

He smiled. “That’s right. Now it’s as friends.”

She had to stop her smile from fading. Friends. Great. He’d gone from being her boss to being her friend. Not really what she’d been hoping for.

“We can be friends, can’t we?” he asked.

“Of course. I’d like that.”

“Good.”

The waiter brought the carafe of wine and filled their glasses.

“So are you enjoying being back?” she asked.

After Rafe’s father had died, Rafe had left Philadelphia and disappeared for almost a year. Their overbearing father had pushed Rafe to follow in his footsteps, heedless of what Rafe wanted, and once the man was gone, Rafe had needed to get away and discover who he really was. So he’d left Ranier Industries and pursued his dream of being a guitarist in a rock band, and right now, with his faded jeans and tattoos, he looked every bit the part.

Melanie could just picture crowds of women swooning when he came on stage.

“Do you miss it?” Melanie asked. “The rock star lifestyle, I mean.”

“I enjoyed being on the road, but it made me realize that despite my difficulties with my father, I really do care about the company. It’s the Ranier legacy, and it employs a lot of great people. Since I’ve been back, I’ve been doing more to develop green technologies, which has always been a passion of mine. And I’m pleased with all the positive changes Dane has made. The only thing that’s hard to get used to is the rigid schedule.”

“Well, you’re the boss. You can keep your own hours.”

“To an extent. But on the whole, business still needs to be done during business hours.”

She understood what he meant. He could come in late if he wanted, and leave early, but a lot of what he did involved meeting with other people, and that mostly had to be done during the regular business day.

“Remember, during the past year, I’ve been playing with a band, and the hours are quite different.”

“Well, you could always set a schedule where you only spend a few days in the office and take all your appointments on those days only. Then the other days are your own. Maybe you could play guitar somewhere local. Even a club out of town, if you want to reduce the chance of Ranier employees running into you as Storm.”

He smiled. “You know me so well. I’ve already started looking into pulling together a band and playing at some clubs, but I hadn’t thought of concentrating my office hours into a few days.”

She smiled. “That’s why you love me.” As soon as she’d said the words, her gaze darted to his face.

He chuckled. “Yes, I do.”

It was something he used to say when he would praise her after she offered a creative solution to a problem he’d been struggling with. It had actually started with him telling her he loved having her as his secretary, then eventually he’d shortened it to
that’s why I love you
.

She knew he hadn’t really meant it, of course, other than in an affectionate way, but it had still thrilled her every time he’d said it.

God, she was pathetic.

Their dinner arrived, and she picked up her fork and took a bite. The lobster-filled pasta and smooth, creamy sauce melted in her mouth.

“You know, that’s why I really wish you’d come back. I really miss working with you.”

She compressed her lips. “Rafe, I already told you—”

He raised his hands. “I know. I’m sorry. You already know the offer’s out there if you want to come back.”

She nodded and took another bite. Then she gazed at him again. “But I won’t, you know.” She put down her fork. “And it’s because of you.”

His gaze shot to hers and he titled his head in question.

“I just really admire what you did. You took a risk and walked away. You were living a life someone else had set out for you and instead of just accepting it, you decided to pursue your dream. And to figure out who you really are.”

“I’m not sure I’ve really succeeded.”

“Yes, you have. Or at least, you’re on the right path.” She sipped her wine. “And that inspired me to do the same. I’m not like you. I don’t know what I have a passion for—yet—but I do know that I want to be free of rules, and as you said, the nine-to-five existence.”

“Did I have too many rules?” he asked.

“No, they were mine. I always behaved the way I was expected to behave. I conformed to what my family wanted, and what society expected. I never really took the time to decide what
I
wanted. So now, with the generous severance Mr. Ranier gave me, I have the opportunity to figure it out.”

“So you’re working at a coffee shop.”

“I don’t intend to be defined by my job. That’s just what I do to make money. But working there means I have variable hours and some mornings free, and it’s the perfect time to paint and sketch—something I never had time for in the corporate world. I want to shake up my life, try new things, and question everything. Seeing what you did inspired me.”

He smiled. “I’m glad. So what else do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. Maybe meet a handsome guy and do something really wild and crazy.”

His lips turned up in a grin. “You mean in the bedroom?”

“Oh, uh …” Ever since Jessica had told her a little about how exciting she found it to be dominated in the bedroom, Melanie had dreamed of trying that herself, but she hadn’t meant to let that slip.

She glanced at him and his eyes twinkled with mischief. Her cheeks flushed hotly.

“I just meant we wouldn’t do the same old boring things.” This was not making it better. “You know, like dates where we go to the movies or whatever.”

As he gazed at her speculatively, she stared at her wineglass, wrapping her fingers around the stem.

“I don’t intend to fall into old patterns,” she continued. “I want to push the limits on everything I do. At least, for a while.”

She took the conversation back to her art, and before long, the waiter took away their empty plates, offered dessert, which they declined, and the bill arrived. They stepped out into the warm evening air and walked toward his big motorcycle.

“May I give you a ride home?”

“Thank you. I’d like that.”

She climbed onto the big machine behind him and they sped across the city to her apartment building. Too soon he pulled up in front of the entrance and got off the bike, then retrieved her bag from the storage container and walked her to the glass door.

“Thanks again for dinner. And the ride home.” She opened her purse and pulled out her key. She gazed up at him. “And I really appreciate you staying with me while I got the tattoo.”

“It was my pleasure. You know, today I saw a whole new side of you, and I found it very intriguing.” He smiled warmly. “I’d really like the opportunity to get to know you better.”

She gazed at his handsome face, mesmerized by his twinkling, sky blue eyes, and returned his smile. “I’d like that.”

She longed to reach up and stroke his spiky, dark hair. They stood in silence for a few seconds and she realized he was waiting for her to open her door.

It had been a wonderful evening and she didn’t want it to end, but she was sure as soon as she opened her door, he would say good night and be gone.

“I … uh … do you think it was a good choice? The tattoo I mean?”

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours is gorgeous,” she said. “Do you think mine looks as nice?”

“Yours is lovely. I can’t believe I didn’t know you had such artistic ability. And you said it represents freedom. Because you’re spreading your wings?”

She nodded. “Freedom and happiness. The bluebird of happiness taking flight.”

He smiled. “I like that. And I like that I got to see the tattoo that only a few special men will ever see.”

The warmth in his eyes sent a quiver through her. It had been embarrassing pulling down her top to reveal her breast with Rafe there. And exciting at the same time.

“Along with the stranger who put it there,” she said.

Oh, man, why had she ruined the mood by saying that?

He laughed. “I guess that’s true.”

“Um …” She gazed up at him. “Do you want to come up and see it again?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she thought she’d die. How could she say that?