The Seduction Game (3 page)

“Here.” He offered her a few bills. “Take this. It will pay for the cleaner.”

She eyed the money with distaste. “And how will that solve my problem?” she asked with disdain. “Do you know of any cleaner in the vicinity who can have my dress cleaned and pressed in two minutes? Not to mention have a robe handy since I’ll have nothing else to wear in the process?” She drew in a steady breath. “I don’t need anything from you,” she said, more calmly. “You’ve done quite enough.” And with that, she skirted around him and made her way across the street to Ricardo’s.

Flustered, she stepped beneath the restaurant’s red and gold awning, her dress heavy and damp around her legs. She reached for the brass handle of the door, but a large hand beat her to it and a deep voice offered a curt, “Allow me” above her head. Kate stiffened.

It was him.

He stood behind her, slightly brushing her back as he went for the door. She felt a heat of awareness and stiffened.

“Thank you,” she said stiffly and slipped into the restaurant.

She headed for the ladies room, but a tingling in her back made her stop and turn around. The handsome stranger stood at the entrance, his flint-like gaze regarding her with an intensity that brought an involuntary flush to her cheeks. She promptly turned away.

In the bathroom, she snatched a huge wad of paper towels and, as best as she could, dried the hem of her dress. Nervous about her impending date with Adam Tyler, and flustered from her encounter with the handsome stranger, she inhaled shakily and inspected her face in the mirror. She looked flushed and bright-eyed.

She left the bathroom in a hurry.

The maitre d’ informed her that her table wasn’t ready and she bit back her disappointment.

“It will be at least a fifteen minute wait, Ma’am. You may wait in this line or you may take advantage of the cocktail lounge through those doors.”

She offered him a polite smile and opted for the cocktail lounge. At least she would be able to calm her fluttering nerves with a Cosmopolitan before she met Adam. Kate checked her watch. It was five to seven.

She sat at a vacant booth and surveyed the room.

Dana hadn’t given Kate a description of her brother, but if sibling similarities had any part in it, Kate figured Adam had Dana’s striking red hair.

Three men in the lounge had red hair, but the first one was with a woman, the second one was the bartender, and the third one, she noted wryly, was holding another man’s hand.

She tensed her mouth as she took her journal from her purse and wrote:
Male specimen late for date with nice girl persona.
She underlined the words “nice girl” twice.

She looked at the entrance and her breath caught as she saw the handsome stranger stride to the bar. He moved with grace and ease, his confidence unmistakable. She couldn’t help but feel curious about him. Whom was he dining with? In her mind’s eye, she conjured up a picture of a voluptuous blonde with pouty lips and sky blue eyes.

This man radiated a male energy that filled the room and tainted her cheeks pink. And judging from the other women’s reactions, she wasn’t the only one who felt it.

He swung around with a drink in his hand, slowly raising it to his lips, when his dark gaze collided with hers and his hand stilled in midair.

Their gazes locked.

She drew back sharply and jostled her Cosmopolitan, spilling some of it over the polished surface of the table. Her face burned. She snapped open her purse and grabbed a couple of tissues. The last thing she needed was him to think she was interested in him. He had enough attention from the other women in the room without her having to add to it.

Kate mopped up the spill, stealing another glance at him. His gaze was fastened on her and his expression was clearly amused. Kate bristled.

“Saw you staring at me, little lady. I figured you liked what you saw.”

She stiffened, and turned towards the sound of the slurred voice. A man who had clearly had too much to drink stared offensively at her breasts.

“Bradshaw. Jason Bradshaw’s the name. And you’re?”

“Not interested,” she replied coolly.

“All I want is a little company. Was I wrong? Too good for me?”

Kate’s gaze flew to the entrance. Thankfully no one had arrived bearing Dana’s striking blue eyes and red hair, and she hoped no one would until she fended off this man. The last thing she wanted was a scene as Adam Tyler strolled in.

“I’m sorry, but I’m waiting for someone. Excuse me.” She grabbed her purse and slid across her booth to stand.

He planted his body in front of her, blocking her exit. “What’s the hurry, doll?”

“I believe the lady said she was waiting for someone,” a deep, familiar voice said.

Kate stiffened as she looked over the drunk’s shoulder. She stared up into the grim face of the dark-eyed stranger.

The inebriated man took a step forward. “And I believe you’re butting in, Mister.”

“If it’s trouble you’re looking for, perhaps you should look elsewhere instead of bothering a helpless woman.”

Helpless? Kate felt a spark of indignation and narrowed her gaze to the stranger’s face. “Who are you call—”

“Her, helpless? Naw,” the drunk cut in. “I think she’s a tigress in disguise.”

She was about to speak, but the stranger intervened, his tone laced with menace. “You can make this easy for yourself or hard. It’s your call, Mister.”

Kate glanced from one man to the other, watching them silently sizing each other up. She would have had a far better chance warding off the drunk using her logic and common sense rather than antagonizing him with the thinly veiled threats coming from the stranger. Not to mention the scene she would have avoided, but the stranger had deftly taken care of that, too. She only had to glance around the room and notice most eyes were on them.

“You want a piece of the action, eh? Funny, she doesn’t look like the regular girls,” the drunk said. “I didn’t know she was a hook—”

“I think you need some air.” The stranger grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to the doors.

Kate groaned under her breath. This wasn’t good. It wouldn’t do for Adam Tyler to stroll in at this moment when everyone was directing their attention to her. Her dismay turned to ire.

But her anger wasn’t directed at the drunken man. Her anger was directed at the stranger who not only had an ego the size of Manhattan, but a
me
Tarzan, you Jane
complex as well.

“Are you all right?” the stranger asked once he returned.

“I appreciate what you tried to do, but it wasn’t necessary. That man posed nothing more dangerous than acute rudeness.”

His concern was replaced with a dark frown. What had he expected? That she’d fall into his arms in a heap of tears, sobbing her gratitude? And why was he just standing there, staring at her as though she had magically sprouted another head?

“From my vantage point, you looked like you needed some assistance, Miss.”

“I was hardly in any danger. Besides, he wasn’t going to do anything in a room full of people.”

Those people were now going about their business as though nothing had happened. At least she wasn’t the center of attention anymore.

“Regardless, you can’t be too careful, Miss. A woman drinking alone in a bar may draw some unwanted attention.”

“I’m not drinking alone, as you put it. I happen to be waiting for someone, but even if I wasn’t, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself without having to manhandle a handicapped man. He was so drunk he couldn’t even stand straight.”

“That
handicapped
man was well over six feet and outweighed me by thirty pounds.” He ran a hand through his raven hair. “Look, I was only trying to help you. It is customary to say thank you in these circumstances.”

She had the grace to feel ashamed. “Thank you.”

With as much calm as she could muster, she left him.

It was almost ten past seven and Adam Tyler would be making his exalted entrance soon. She fumed with indignation. He didn’t possess any manners at all! It was rude and inconsiderate of him to keep a lady waiting. At that moment, she didn’t know who irritated her more, the stranger or the insensitive Adam Tyler.

* * * *

Adam strode to the bar and downed his scotch. What the hell was the matter with him? He’d gone out with many women. Gorgeous women. Women most men fantasized about. So why was he mulling over that little spitfire?

He felt his gut knot as he recalled the gold firelight dancing behind her eyes and how he had resisted the urge to…
to what
? He couldn’t decide if he wanted to shake her or kiss her. No other woman had ever gotten under his skin, especially after only one minute of meeting her, and he felt more than a little disturbed by it.

He noticed a woman wearing a tight black mini skirt staring at him from her bar stool a few feet away. He let his gaze glide over her long, smooth legs, her pert breasts straining against her thin white cotton blouse, up to her face. She wore a provocative expression. He knew instantly where she wanted to end up at the end of the night: in his bed. His lips curled sardonically.

Any other time in his life he would have smiled at her, talked to her, hell, maybe even taken her back to his penthouse and made love to her all night, but all he could see in front of him was a rather ordinary-looking woman with glasses, whose thorny disposition told him she had more brewing under her than met the eye.

He flicked a sharp glance at his watch. Kate Moore had better be here, he thought irritably as he strode from the bar.

* * * *

Kate marched up to the maitre d’ and asked him how much longer she would have to wait. He smiled and said her table was ready. Kate’s spirits lifted.

She was about to follow him into the dining room when a small tap on her shoulder stopped her.

“Excuse me. Doctor Moore?”

Kate’s stomach dropped to the floor. This was all she needed to end a perfectly lovely evening. She turned around and faced a woman in her fifties who smiled profusely. Beside her stood a short, weary-looking man with a camera slung around his neck. A fan, Kate thought with resignation.

“It is you! I can’t tell you enough how much I loved your last book,” the woman gushed, grabbing the short man by the arm. “Harry, look. It’s a celebrity.”

Kate smiled politely. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She hastened toward the maitre d’ who was standing patiently to the side, holding two menus.

“May I have your autograph, Dr. Moore?”

“Of course.” She panicked as she hurried to open her purse. What explanation could she give Adam Tyler if he arrived at that moment and saw her handing out autographs?

“My sewing circle back home isn’t going to believe this,” the woman said loudly as Kate ripped a page from her daily journal and scribbled a warm wishes note. “Why, you practically saved Kitty’s marriage back home. And Sue Ellen’s not the same since she gave herself that makeover. She’s going to need an extra line on her telephone just to keep up with all the men calling her and all.”

“I’m glad I could help.” Kate scribbled quickly. “What’s your name?”

“Martha. Martha Jenkins. Imagine,” the woman said, louder still, “I’ll be eating in the same restaurant as you.”

Kate’s hand stilled. What would stop another enthusiastic fan coming to her table while she dined with Adam? Quickly, she handed the woman her note and scribbled another one for Adam.

I’m sorry. An emergency’s come up. Give my best to your sister. Kate Moore.

She gave the note to the maitre d’. “Would you please give this to my dinner date when he arrives? His name is Adam Tyler.”

“Perhaps you would like to give it to Mr. Tyler yourself, Miss Moore?” The maitre d’ cast a look over her shoulder. “Ah, there he is right now.”

“No,” Kate replied abruptly.

The maitre d’ gave her a knowing look. “A blind date?”

“Something like that.” She turned to leave before he could ask anymore questions.

Now what was she going to do, she thought as she left the restaurant? She doubted Adam Tyler would attempt another rendezvous with her after being jilted at the restaurant.

It was the stranger’s fault. Ever since she had laid eyes on him her evening had taken a turn for the worst. Kate stepped up to the curb and noted wryly the only thing going right tonight was that it had stopped raining.

“When my sister said I would have an interesting evening, somehow I don’t think this is what she had in mind.”

Kate spun around and found herself staring up at the stranger. His mouth was tense.

“Excuse me?” she croaked.

He handed her a white piece of lined paper. Her stomach jolted as she recognized it, the note she had given the maitre d’.

“Care to explain this?”

“You’re...you’re...”

“Adam Tyler. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“But your hair isn’t red,” she blurted.

“Evidently,” he countered smoothly, but the muscle working along his jaw told her he was quite angry. “And you’re not a schoolteacher.”

“I…I’m not?” Kate responded weakly.

“No. I’m beginning to think you’re some kind of witch who is hell bent on driving me mad. Would you mind explaining to me why you ran off like that?”

He didn’t know. Thank God. “Mr. Tyler—”

“Adam. Surely we can dispense with the formalities seeing there’s nothing formal about our relationship.”

Kate stiffened. “We don’t have a relationship.”

“Somehow I get the feeling having a relationship with you would be a full-time job.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” she asked, raising a delicately winged brow.

“Well, let’s see. For starters you nearly got yourself killed, you defended a scoundrel who practically accosted you, and you skipped out on our date like you were being followed by the mob. Which brings me to this. Why did you run off like that?”

“Nerves.”

“I don’t buy it. You’re too impertinent to be nervous.”

The insult didn’t sting half as much as her reaction to him. Her stomach was in knots and she prayed he couldn’t see the nervous twitch at the corner of her mouth. He was compellingly handsome, but it was his aura, his male energy that made her nervous.