Authors: Nikki Duncan
“But you can answer them,” Taylor countered.
“So, what are you going to do about it?”
Taylor bit down on her bottom lip, chewing it as if it afforded her the luxury of time. “I don’t want a relationship.”
“Who said anything about a relationship? This is a fling. A one-nighter. Get you past first base, so to speak.”
First base! Taylor swallowed the lump that choked off her breathing. The icy chill that slid along her bones had absolutely nothing to do with Auckland’s balmy May evening breeze.
Her fingers grazed the side of her handbag and snapped back as if scalded when she remembered exactly what her bag contained.
Condoms!
An appropriate reminder: preparation and safety first.
She could do this. She could. She grabbed Nita’s arm. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Nita stalled mid-step. “What? You expect me to come too?”
“I need you. I can’t do this on my own. I need…”
“Cade Harper is who you need, Taylor. You said so yourself. Cade’s a love ’em and leave ’em sort of guy. Now go.” Nita gave her a push toward the entrance and waved goodbye.
Love and leave. Definitely perfect credentials. Cade didn’t know it yet, but he was the answer to Taylor’s prayers.
Battling the raw panic lodged in her gut as every second edged her toward turning and running, Taylor surveyed the patrons. Her hands shook. She wanted to forget the idea. Forget sex. Forget Cade Harper. If she could.
Instead she focused on the entrance, and her pulse quickened.
The best man. How appropriate.
Cade hadn’t been at the wedding rehearsal; otherwise she would have noticed him. But at the wedding, dressed in a black tuxedo that molded his broad shoulders and a crisp white dress shirt with diamond stud buttons, he absolutely stood out and, within seconds, she’d made her decision. He was perfect for the job.
Squaring her shoulders, Taylor shoved the bar door open. For a moment, she stood motionless, eyes adjusting to the dim lighting, the noise and heat hitting her in an undulating wave.
This was it.
Taking a deep breath, she clutched her bag and ventured in.
A single length of hand-chiseled wood operated as a bar and spanned one end of the room. Behind it were a medley of liquors and an ornate mirror etched with the slogan of a famous beer. Tables and chairs dotted around the room were mostly already taken. In one corner, a jukebox emitted ear-piercing rock music. In another corner, an eager group of players surrounded a pool table.
All of this was of little consequence to Taylor, because all she could focus on was her quarry—Cade Harper.
He stood behind the bar, a cocktail shaker in one hand and a salt-crusted margarita glass in the other.
Tawny, sun-bronzed hair tapered over his collar, and an unruly tendril dipped across his forehead, seemingly refusing to be controlled. He looked good. Very sexy.
No tuxedo tonight, but a black T-shirt with the sleeves rolled back, stretched taut over biceps that flexed and…
Oh, God.
Definitely a bad boy.
Taylor wiped a hand across her brow and her tongue over suddenly parched lips. The temperature had escalated several degrees in one blazing second.
Partially hidden by a potted ficus, heart dancing an erratic beat, she watched Cade.
“Can I help you?”
Taylor spun around. “I…”
The voice belonged to a female version of Cade. She had the same coloring and the same dark eyes. Taylor glanced toward Cade over the woman’s head. “I’m here to see Mr. Harper,” she mumbled.
Mister! Good grief!
She wanted to have sex with this man, and she called him mister!
“Cade?” his replica responded, eyebrows quirking upward.
Taylor nodded, relieved the woman didn’t ask any questions, and wondered at the same time what her reaction would have been if she’d said, “It’s about sex.”
“Follow me.” The young woman crooked her finger toward Taylor, turned and wove her way between tables. With trepidation and anticipation colliding inside her stomach, Taylor hurried after the woman.
“Cade.”
“Yeah.” He handed the margarita to a customer, and Taylor’s gaze followed the salt-rimmed glass. It shimmered under the overhead lighting, and she found herself licking her lips, almost tasting the delicious salt.
“Lady to see you.”
The moment Cade turned,
everything
changed.
Cade Harper. Bad boy. One sexy guy.
Taylor’s voice stalled in her throat, and she knew, when his smiling eyes captured hers, she was in way over her head.
Cade wiped his hands on a cloth and again Taylor’s gaze followed. Long, lean fingers. Fingers that would touch…
Oh, boy!
He smiled. “You wanted to see me?”
She nodded and felt herself drowning in that smile. His dark eyes twinkled, a swirl of gold and chocolate brown. Just like Hershey Kisses
.
Kisses!
Yep. She was definitely going under.
“Lady, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve got a bar to run,” he said, grabbing a knife and cutting a lemon into wafer-thin slices.
Taylor shook herself.
Okay. Come on. Just say it.
“I’ve got a favor to ask.”
“Ask away then,” he said, not looking up.
Taylor burned and eyed the milling crowd. “Actually, it’s a proposition.”
He definitely looked then, and his gaze focused on her. He placed the razor-sharp knife on the cutting board. His mouth quirked at one corner, smiling, gaze assessing. “Sounds intriguing.”
Desire is a double-edged dance.
Lexie
© 2012 Kimberly Dean
Triple X, Book 1
Lexie Underhill works her tail off in hopes of winning her adoptive father’s approval. It’s never enough. The stinging proof? He’s brought in a reorganization expert. As if the prospect of losing her job in the family business isn’t enough, Cameron Rowe’s sexy, intimidating presence makes her palms sweat.
When Lexie’s face appears on a scandalous freeway billboard, her protestations of innocence go unheard. With orders to save the family name—or else—she marches into the bar the billboard was advertising and comes face-to-face with an identical twin sister. Roxie is wild and free, everything Lexie isn’t. Before the night is out, she welcomes the chance to explore her own sensuality.
As she dances wantonly on the bar, suddenly Cam is there, kissing her as if he has the right. The sizzle between them breaks out in four-alarm desire, but Lexie has recalibrated her life plan. And the equation doesn’t factor in Cam—until she’s sure where his loyalties lie. With her…or her father’s company.
Warning: Not all business relationships are formal and stodgy. Suits and ties (actually, all clothing) are optional.
Enjoy the following excerpt for
Lexie:
Uncertainty made her face fall, and she glanced back to the bar. “You said our eyes were different.” The uncertainty turned into a frown. “Is she prettier than me? Was that it?”
“No, that wasn’t it.” He cupped her chin and brought her attention back to him.
He sighed when he saw the glaze in her eyes. She wasn’t a sloppy drunk. She didn’t slur her words, and she didn’t get belligerent. Well, not that belligerent. Alcohol just seemed to break down the walls she constantly kept erected around herself. Let loose, her emotions were fighting over which could show itself first. Hurt, joy and confusion were all there for the world to see.
With her, alcohol brought out honesty.
Cam took a deep breath. He had to get her out of here. Sober her up and help her get things straight in her head. The misunderstanding with the Underhills needed to be cleared up as soon as possible—for her sake as well as the company’s. They’d hurt her this morning and without cause. She deserved an apology, and he was going to make sure she got one.
This newfound sister, though. He glanced over his shoulder to the bar. She was a different issue entirely.
He watched as Roxie flirted with a particularly ugly biker, checking out the tattoo on his shoulder. He didn’t like coincidences, and he didn’t like surprises. This woman was both, and he didn’t want Lexie around her until he had the opportunity to check her out.
And he had the resources to do a really close check.
He brushed his thumb against Lexie’s waist and pulled back. “Let’s go straighten things out with Julian.”
Her breath caught audibly. Face paling, her gaze flew to the door. “Is he here?”
Cam sighed. Damn that man. “No. We’ll go find him after you’ve had some coffee.”
“Is anybody else coming?” She rubbed her bare arms. Without her jacket, she seemed vulnerable. Ten minutes earlier, she’d been dancing around and having fun. At the mention of her family, though, she needed her armor.
He stroked her waist, trying to get her to relax. “You got me. Just me.”
“Oh.”
The emotions in her eyes tumbled again, and confusion won the battle this time. She glanced around the bar almost forlornly. Cameron braced his hand against the jukebox, wanting to punch it. She was so easy to read this way, but it was a painful read.
“Do you really dislike me that much, Lexie?”
“I don’t dislike you.”
Could have fooled him. “Then what is it? You’ve been avoiding me ever since I first started working at Underhill. Are you afraid of me?”
She shifted uneasily. She’d ventured into a biker bar and had made it her own, yet looking him in the eye seemed to be too much for her. “Kind of.”
Cam nearly winced. That honesty was a double-edged sword. “Why?”
“Why? You want to gut my family’s company.” Her brow furrowed. “I mean, Underhill Associates.” She shook her head, the confusion too much. “I have good workers. Smart people. They should know their jobs are secure.
My
job should be secure.”
“I’m not talking about work here,” he said bluntly. “And I think you know that.”
Her lips parted. “But work is all we…” Frustration colored her cheeks. She lifted her hands and pressed her fingers against her temples. “Argg. You’re doing it again, confusing me and twisting everything up. I couldn’t sleep last night after you did what you…and firing me…and, and cleavage…”
He could look at her cleavage all he wanted right now, but things were suddenly getting interesting. “You couldn’t sleep because you were thinking about me?”
She rocked her foot back onto its heel, and he instinctively positioned himself closer so she couldn’t kick him. The move put his body a hairsbreadth away from hers. She was warm from all that dancing. Her skin glistened with perspiration, leaving it damp and kissable. Lickable.
She flattened her hands against his chest again, but this time he didn’t budge. It flustered her. She shifted against the jukebox, but he wasn’t letting her get away now—not when he finally had her talking to him.
Her lips pressed into a straight line. “I wasn’t thinking about you, I was thinking about my proposition…purpose…my
proposal
.”
Interesting choice of words.
But the alcohol she’d consumed had her on a roll. “You made me late today. I kept wondering what you were going to do. What were you going to think? How were you going to smell?”
“I smell?”
“Not you. It’s just…” Her cheeks went red. “Your aftershave smells nice.”
Her words died away, but all thoughts of taking her home to Daddy left Cam. Taking her home, though, wasn’t such a bad idea. His body felt hard and hot. He’d been stressed all day, but the tension gripping him now was another sort entirely. “What do you think of me, Lexie? Really?”
Her gaze locked with his, and he saw something new in the dark depths. Something that made his heart rate slow down, and the thick pumps sound loudly in his ears.
“You make me uncomfortable,” she said, her voice low.
“Uncomfortable, how?”
She bit into her bottom lip, and her gaze skittered away. “Just…uncomfortable.”
The awareness he’d felt on the elevator came back, heavy and deep. It was the first indication he’d had that she saw him not as a threat, but as a man.
He wanted another.
But he didn’t know when he’d ever get it.
She was skittish around him. Guarded. The closest he could get to her was in meetings. Stuffy, mind-numbing meetings. Right now, her defenses were down. He couldn’t. He
shouldn’t
, but he wanted to know…
He reached for her.
Ever so gently, he ran his fingertips down her bare arm, all the way from shoulder to elbow. As he watched, goose bumps popped up on the warm flesh. She shivered and her breath caught. When she looked at him, her gaze was a little wild.
“You make me uncomfortable too,” he said gruffly.
They stared at each other, the music throbbing and the air hazy around them.
“Really uncomfortable,” he muttered.