A devious glint darkened Nita's green eyes, and she gave Taylor a know-it-all sort of smile. “Wait and see, Taylor. Like Cinderella, you'll get your man."
"But Cinders wanted the whole kit and caboodle, Nita Brown. She wanted marriage to Prince Charming and the whole two point four kids. I don't want commitment, remember? I just want to get on with my life, get this whole thing over with."
"You need a plan. You phoned Cade yet?"
"No. Of course not."
"What ya mean ‘no'? How you going to get that boy between the sheets unless you're in his face, Taylor Sullivan? Women are allowed to phone the male species, you know."
Desperation warred in Taylor's belly. “What do I say? ‘So, Cade, when do we get between the sheets?’”
"Sounds proactive."
"Humbug,” Taylor wailed. “What on earth am I doing?"
"Oh, Taylor, Taylor. Boy, do you need me."
"Like a hole in the head.” Taylor hugged her diary to her chest as a protective shield.
Nita chuckled, and Taylor realized, then and there, she had no way out. Nita was like the proverbial dog with a bone, and she wasn't about to let go. “Come on; I'll get the coffee, then we can get down and strategize."
"You make it sound like an armored attack."
"Could be,” she chuckled, tapping the side of her nose as if she had some huge secret she was about to divulge. “A lady needs her armor."
"In that case, you had better make my coffee strong and black."
"An espresso coming right up. And while I'm doing that, take a look at some reading material.” Nita dug into the leather satchel she used as bag and passed Taylor a pile of books.
Taylor's cheeks burned as her eyes glazed over the titles. “Read...” Oh, Lordy.
Sex and the Single Man.
Want It Hot?
"You better make that a double shot coffee."
Chapter Five
"Man, are you grumpy.” Zane Harper straddled the rickety wooden chair in front of Cade's desk.
Cade hissed out a resigned sigh. It didn't look as if his younger brother would move any time soon.
"Back off, Zane.” Issued as it was through gritted teeth, Zane should have realized he was on dangerous ground. He didn't.
"Yep, definitely cantankerous. Katie said you weren't your usual chirpy self this morning."
Cade picked at a stray thread on his jeans. It started to unravel. Typical! “Get lost, Zane."
"Late night, was it?” Zane folded his arms across the back of the chair. Nope, he definitely wasn't about to move.
His brother was driving him nuts. Cade grunted. “None of your damn business."
Zane grinned. “Now that's where you're wrong. Trust me. You know I look up to you; you're my elder brother, after all."
"Try looking for the exit instead."
"Why would I do that, when I can see you need to talk? Anything you want to tell me?"
"To you? You are joking. You'd spread gossip around the bar in ten seconds flat."
"There's gossip?"
Cade's mouth turned down, hands fisting at his sides. He wanted to punch his brother's lights out. Frustration gnawed in his gut, hell, his groin, too, if he was truthful. He'd had a hard on since ... well, since Taylor Sullivan waltzed into his bar with a proposal that was as outlandish as it was exciting, which jerk that he was, he'd agreed to.
Trouble was, belatedly, he'd come up with some fool idea of gentlemanly behavior.
Dumb move. All the cold showers in Antarctica wouldn't ease the ache he felt right now.
He looked up at his brother. “What are you looking so pleased about?"
"Just figured it out. You said you didn't have a late night."
Cade felt the pulse in his jaw flicker and gritted his teeth.
"So, it must be a lady. You didn't get laid last night, is that it?"
"Don't be so crude, Zane."
"We're family. I'm looking out for you. Katie said some classy chick came in here the other night."
"I don't need looking after, Zane. I've looked after myself since I was ten years old, remember?"
"Yeah, and you haven't forgotten it. When are you going to let it go, Cade?"
"What is it with you and Katie? Both of you trying to psychoanalyze me, or something?"
Zane simply smiled, which didn't help Cade's mood one iota.
"At the sound of repeating myself, mate, get lost."
Zane held up both hands in surrender. “Okay. I get the picture. You don't want to talk about her."
"Her?"
"The lady you've got the hots for."
"What makes you say that?"
A belly rumble rolled from Zane's chest. “Brother, I can read you like a book."
Just then, the phone rang, and Cade sent a prayer up for its inventor. He picked up the hand-held and eyed the display panel, then his brother and scowled.
"Okay, I'm going.” Zane gave Cade a mischievous wink, turned and exited, closing the door behind him. “It's her,” Cade heard Zane call to the bar patrons.
Cade groaned aloud. He'd kill his brother with his bare hands.
He flicked the phone on, aware of the upped tempo of his heartbeat and the sudden sheen of perspiration on his brow. But that was nothing compared to the burning need in his pants.
"Hello, Taylor."
There was no sound at first, except a soft feathering of her breath down the phone line.
"Taylor?"
"I ... yes, it's me. I ... um ... want to thank you for dinner last night. It was very ... enjoyable."
"Even though you didn't get what you wanted?” Not right away, he added silently
"I thought I should see your new premises, get an idea of what you want."
You, sweetheart, Cade said to himself, smiling at Taylor's obvious sidestepping of his blatant question. His brain warned him repeatedly to slow down and take it easy, not to scare her off, but so far he hadn't listened.
From his office, Cade could hear the cacophony of music combined with laughter from customers on the other side of the door. It was late in the day, and already the bar hummed. It would be a good night for business, but definitely not a good night to bring Taylor here. He'd never hear the end of it.
His decision was decisive. “I'll be there in five."
"Now?"
Wired, Cade strode to the door, still holding the phone. “Sure. Isn't that what you want?"
"Yes.” Taylor's reply was soft, and he barely heard it. But the fact that she hadn't hesitated brought a quick smile to his face.
"Are you still at work?"
"Yes, I've got two weddings this weekend."
"More fools biting the dust,” Cade muttered beneath his breath as he hung up.
* * * *
The five minutes it took to drive to Taylor's seemed to take way too long. He came to a halt outside her tiny office located in the heart of Devonport's village atmosphere and scooted up the path.
She opened the door wide and smiled, but he didn't move.
"Hello."
For some reason, Cade wanted to wait right there and remember the moment, taking it all in. Dressed in a matching camel colored dress and jacket, she bespoke elegance. She was all woman; soft curves and gentle and Cade wondered for the umpteenth time what she'd be like lying beneath him. Oh, boy, he had it bad. Cade expelled a long hiss.
"So this is where all the action takes place?” he said as he moved about her show room and office. Swathes of bridal silks and satins hung from one wall, photos of her clients decorated another, while shoes, headpieces and veils were artfully displayed inside two ornate white cabinets.
"We try and cater for all types of occasions and give brides an idea of what's available. It helps them choose."
"What about the grooms? Don't they get a look in?"
"Of course. It's their day, too. But usually what we find is the bride, and often her family, get things underway."
"And the groom comes screaming up the r
ear?” Cade said unable to help himself. “Sorry,” he shrugged sheepishly. “Marriage isn't in my line of thinking. I've seen how it works."
"Yet you attended your friend's wedding—even as best man,” she countered, buttoning up her jacket, a reaction that screamed keep away.
"I don't criticize others for wanting to give it a go. What do they say? Love is blind?” But as far as he was concerned, love was too risky. “Why bother with all this stuff?” he said pointing to the bridal accoutrements about the room. “The divorce rate is here to stay. Of the twenty thousand odd marriages in 2004, virtually half that number ended up divorce."
Taylor's mouth pursed. “My, you're a fist full of facts and figures, aren't you? Got any more you can spout off?"
"Nope, just those,” he said, giving her his best disarming smile.
It worked, and she took a step back. “I see."
He watched the flicker of emotions skitter across her eyes. They'd darkened to a deep ocean blue. “And what's precisely is it you see, Ms. Sullivan? You going to get all uppity on me?"
"No.” But she didn't quite look him in the eye. “Your attitude, and the fact you can reel off facts and figures, makes sense, though."
Cade frowned. What did she know about him? “About me, I presume you mean."
Taylor shrugged. “Sure,” she said, but kept that gaze directed elsewhere.
Cade bristled. He didn't like the way this was heading, and certainly did not want some uptight woman trying to get the better of him. “Taylor Sullivan,” he said, planting his feet firm, towering over her. “Let's get this straight. Don't you try and analyze me."
"As if I would.” And she looked at him from beneath those long dark lashes of hers.
Blast it. It sent his pulses skyrocketing and his thoughts scattering. Hell, one look like that and she could analyze all she wanted. “You might do it all the time for your clients, Taylor, but I'm not a client."
"For your new bar concept, you are."
"Yes, but not a marriage client. So enough of the psycho-babble. My psyche isn't up for discussion."
"Suit yourself."
"You bet I will. Come on, let's go.” Cade turned to walk away.
"To your new premises?"
"Yep, unless you want to try and analyze why I've started that venture, too. If so, then, let me tell you, this little deal of yours is O.F.F. Got it."
Taylor saluted and grinned at him. “Yes sir.” And she gathered a folder and builder's tape.
Round one to ... him?
No way. Cade might have managed to forestall Taylor Sullivan's analytical bent, but it wasn't over. Not by a long shot. And that, he realized with a gnaw in the pit of his belly, was decidedly disconcerting.
He watched her move around the office. So sure of herself, like a gazelle, all long limbs and fluid motion. With her hair swept up in a French roll exposing her slender neck, he had the urge to kiss it and let his tongue slide along across her exquisite skin.
Earlobes were an aphrodisiac, an erogenous zone, so they said. He'd like to find out how Taylor would react.
He'd been so sure it would be different away from the bar, without the ribald input from his customers and snoopy Miss Sister. But nothing had changed. The moment he walked into Taylor's office, he could smell her perfume, sweet and enticing, it washed gently against his skin.
Gentle, my foot. It hit him like a thunderbolt, suffused his skin at breakneck speed and tested his reserve.
Finally, he could escape outside, but with Taylor beside him, escape really was futile.
He'd brought the pickup this time. The pearlescent blue paintwork sparkled in the autumn sunlight. She walked round to the passenger side, laughing as Cade held the door open for her.
"Showing off, Cade?"
"Now why would you say that?"
"Different car every day. Makes a man look successful."
"You called it showing off."
"So I did,” she said smiling up at him.
Witch. She was a teasing witch. But, somehow, she didn't even know it. Biting back the urge to taste her smiling lips, his fingers gripped the door handle with knuckle-white intensity. Anything to stop his brain thinking those thoughts ... thoughts of what he'd like to do with Taylor Sullivan
Cade gritted his teeth. “I simply thought since you like classic cars, you'd like this one.” This really wasn't going to be easy.
Seated beside Taylor, he fired the ignition and eased into the traffic.
"You promised to take me up and see your ... etchings."
Yes! “So I did. Plenty of time.” Now why the heck did he go and say that?
"Really?"
"Yeah, like I said, take it slow and easy."
Mate, you've lost it. What's happened to the wham, bam, thank you ma'am guy?
"Think of today as verbal foreplay,” he said, and saw Taylor's wide-eyed shock. Cade chuckled to himself. He was sure he'd heard her gulp, too.
That's better. He felt in control now.
* * * *
Slow and easy.
Just the sound of Cade's voice, languid and heavy, sent Taylor's hormones into an uproar.
Grateful that Cade switched the radio onto a rock station and she didn't have to find her voice, she watched his fingers tapping against the steering wheel. She was hypnotized, unable to submerge the thrill of wondering what his fingers would feel like against her skin.
Like sin.
Oh, dear heaven! A soporific sigh slid from her lips.
"You say something?” He gave her a curious glance and she colored.
"No. Just a bit tired, I guess."
"Another sleepless night?"
She twisted round sharply, only to catch Cade's knowing grin. “Me, too."
So why don't you do something about it, she moaned silently. Put me out of my agony.
Chapter Six
Cade's new premises were situated in the central business district, a part of the city that had seen a resurrection over the last few years. The gas works were gone, and the docks had morphed into a myriad of apartments and upscale shops and businesses.
They were parked outside an old brick building with boarded windows and peeling paintwork.
Taylor's mind whirred with ideas. Old and the new, side by side. History and modern day.
Already out of the truck, Cade opened her door.
A perfect gentleman.
Captured by her surroundings, Taylor absently took Cade's hand as he helped her from the pickup. She didn't think—until that same tingling shot from her fingers up her arm. Her gaze snapped down to her hand, still in his, and she swallowed hard and shook her head.
Stumbling away, she pulled her hand from his.
Concentrate, Sullivan. Refusing to look at Cade, she walked up to the building and cast her creative eye over the scuffed brickwork, the wrought iron handrails either side of the well-worn stairs. Inside, a knowing excitement bubbled up.
"I'm not sure I like the look on your face, Taylor Sullivan. Give it to me. You think the place is a dump and won't work."
Taylor turned to Cade and smiled. “This is wonderful. It's so evocative of Auckland's history."
"A pile of dilapidated bricks, you mean."
"Of course not. It's..."
"A dump,” Cade pre-empted.
"Definitely not."
A wary uncertainty crossed Cade's eyes. His countenance spoke silent volumes. This business venue meant more than dollars to him.
Pride?
She wouldn't damage that. Cade was going to give her something very important. She owed him her best efforts.
"Okay.” She shrugged not put off by Cade's pessimism. “So there's quite a bit of work."
"Tell me about it. The builders are all ready to start."
"So I see.” Scaffolding framed the façade, and workmen had already begun scraping back years of grime and neglect from the brickwork. Raising her hand to the wall, Taylor trailed her fingers over the hand-hewn bricks, feeling their texture.
"You touch them as if they speaks to you.” Cade sounded worried.
"They do in some ways,” she confirmed. “It's sort of an intuition thing. They tell me what they want. A bit like a character in a book."
"Characters don't speak."
"They do to the writer, or at least that's what I've heard."
Obviously impatient, Cade jangled a clutch of keys from one hand. “Sounds nutty."
"Sounds exciting,” she corrected.
"So, you approve of my purchase?"
Taylor grabbed his forearm and spun him round to face the front of the building. “Feel this, the age of it,” she instructed. And she lifted his hand, holding it in hers and ran his fingers along the mottled bricks. “This building has seen so much, so many pass it. It has a sense of history, of pride of place in this city of ours. See the door. Okay, so graffiti has marred its elegance, but a bit of cleaning and it will be back to its stately proportions,” Taylor reviewed.
"You feel all this from touch?"
Taylor's head tilted to one side, and she looked at him, searching his face. “Don't you?"
"Uh ... I suppose."
"It's not simply touch, Cade, but all the senses. Sight, sound, smell, touch, and yes, probably even taste. We're close to where the fishing boats used to moor and deposit their catch, so the smell of salt and fish is integral to the building and its history. It's all there; we just have to pull it from the building's past."
Seeing Cade's eyes flicker as if he thought her nuts, Taylor suddenly realized she was prattling and slammed her lips firmly closed. She shrugged, giving him an impish sort of grin.
"You trying to get me in touch with my softer side, Taylor? It's bricks and mortar. Dollars and cents. Nothing else. At least, so my bank manager keeps reminding me."
Taylor wagged her finger at him. “Cade Harper, where's your romance?"
"Don't have any. Told you that."
"Yes, you do."
The air between them hung heavy with innuendo. Cade tightened his grip on her fingers imperceptibly and a liquid heat slid through her veins. Her breathing stopped .
Hot became scorching as he brought her fingertips to his parted lips, just touching. The warm wash of his breath fluttered against their tips, and her expectation rampaged.
Then, he kissed them.
He's the One Page 6