“You don’t blow off multimillion-dollar deals over kisses.”
She pushed her wet hair back again, gazing up at him through the driving rain—sweet, sexy, vulnerable. Her voice was barely a whisper in the storm. “Of course you don’t.”
This wasn’t about the kisses. It couldn’t be about the kisses. He took a step forward, peering at her expression.
Time slowed down as they stared into each other’s eyes. He remembered every detail of every second he’d held her. He remembered her feel, her scent, her taste.
But they were both adults. It wasn’t anything to get upset about. “They were kisses, Candy.”
She clenched her jaw, glaring at him as though he had the intelligence of a mud fence. “It’s not what we did, Derek….”
Realization slammed through him.
He brought his palm up to cup her cheek. Her skin was wet and cold, and she shivered as he brushed the raindrops with his thumb.
Oh, yeah. He got it now.
It wasn’t what they’d done. His voice was barely a rasp. “It’s what we wanted to do.”
She gave him a shaky nod.
He admired her honesty. And he knew exactly what she meant. Even now, he could feel the heat building between them. Her skin was warming under his hand. A flush moved into her cheeks. Hot, sexual desire pumped through his system.
He swallowed. “We’ve still got trouble, haven’t we, Candy?”
“We’ve still got trouble.”
Derek clenched his fist. He wanted to kiss her, but he wouldn’t. He wasn’t touching her again without a specific invitation. Because if they got started, then she backed off, he might never recover.
“Question is,” he said, steeling all his strength, lobbing the ball into her court. “What do you want to do about it?”
She was silent for a long minute. “Go home.”
He stilled, hating himself for the weakness, but he had to know for sure. “Alone?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
Derek bit back a primal scream.
TWO WEEKS LATER, at the Lighthouse Restaurant’s opening gala, Candice was still telling herself she’d made the right decision. Derek might have looked like a Greek god come to life with his rain-wet shirt plastered against his chest, but no good could have come from inviting him back to her apartment, stripping off his clothes, making love with him until they couldn’t stand up….
She caught a glimpse of him on the dance floor and felt a flush cover her body. She had to force herself to look away. He was gorgeous in his retro Laduci suit, even if nothing could beat the visual memory of him soaking wet.
Jenna slid into the seat next to Candice as the band segued into a 1940s Duke Ellington song. The vintage ball gowns began to sway—chiffon, crepe, satin and velvet. Candice was willing to bet most of them were authentic. The Reeves-DuCarter name definitely brought out the who’s who of Seattle.
In the forties spirit in her burgundy satin gown, Jenna brandished an unlit cigarette in a six-inch holder and took a sip of her Manhattan.
“Hypothetically speaking,” she said to Candice. “Just for the sake of argument. What exactly would be the harm if the two of you were to sleep together?”
“Huh?” Candice pulled back in her chair before she remembered the boned bodice in her strapless gown. She winced from the pinch to her ribs.
“You and Derek,” said Jenna.
“What about me and Derek?”
“When he’s not looking, you stare at him. When you’re not looking, he stares at you. When you danced with the mayor, I thought he was going to crush his Scotch glass.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Jenna waved the ridiculous-looking cigarette holder. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you that weekend—”
“Nothing happened between us.”
“—but you sure didn’t satisfy that animal lust you’ve got going.”
“You’re nuts.”
Jenna crossed her arms over the table, leaning in conspiratorially. “He is sexy, isn’t he?”
Candice pushed her fingertips against her temples and shook her head.
Jenna gazed across the room to the dance floor. “Broad shoulders, square chin, great eyes, and that nice, tight little butt—”
“Stop it!”
“Am I turning you on?”
Actually, Candice had been turned on for weeks. “You’re a married woman.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t notice all the Reeves brothers are sexy. You caught a look at Erin’s smile lately?” Jenna waggled her eyebrows.
“Okay,” Candice conceded. “So he’s sexy.”
“Striker?”
“Derek.”
Jenna grinned, eyes sparkling in triumph. “Aha.”
“He’s also a shark,” Candice quickly pointed out. “I grew up around men like him. They collect money, toys and notches on their bedposts. I’ve known to stay away from them since I was seventeen years old.”
“You’re not seventeen.”
“They’re still dangerous.”
“So are you. You’re a grown woman. And you want him.”
Candice couldn’t deny it. She was exhausted from denying it to herself and everyone else. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything about it.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’ll chew me up and spit me out.”
“You’re tougher than you think,” said Jenna. “Go dance with him. Then decide.”
“Why are you so hot to throw us together?”
“Because you can practically bottle the chemistry between the two of you. Whatever it is you’ve almost got going, you owe it to yourself to experience it at least once.”
Candice let her gaze rest on Derek’s broad back, seriously in a mood to be convinced. “You think I should?”
“Maybe it’ll get him out of your system. You know, like when you’ve got an intense craving for chocolate? Ignoring it just makes it worse. Give in, tank up, you’re good to go for weeks.”
Candice hesitated. Like chocolate? Get her fill of Derek and then walk away?
It could work. Maybe she’d be able to sleep again. And if she was really lucky, he’d be a lousy lover and she’d be over him for good.
She’d heard that self-centered men made terrible lovers. Maybe Jenna was onto something here.
“You mean, just wander over there and proposition him?” Candice asked slowly.
Jenna grinned. “Yeah.”
“Like, hey, Derek. Wanna get lucky?” Candice teased.
Jenna reached forward and brushed a wisp of hair from Candice’s forehead, her gaze sweeping over the black tulle-and-sequin dress Candice was wearing. “You are drop-dead gorgeous in that outfit. And if the heat in his eyes is anything to go by, ‘hello’ ought to work just fine.”
Candice adjusted the strapless dress, resting her hand on her bare chest and taking a bracing breath. “Got a mint?”
Jenna opened the clasp on her purse. “Better than that, I’ve got a room.” She pulled out a key.
“I’m not taking your room. Besides, I can’t leave the party early,” said Candice. “I’ve got a million things to do.”
“What? You’re going to proposition him and make him wait?”
She bit her lower lip. “I guess.”
Jenna started to laugh. “Tyler will worship the ground you walk on.”
“Don’t you dare tell Tyler.”
Jenna handed her a breath mint. “You’re no fun at all.”
Candice gave her a secretive smile as she stood up. “Want to bet?”
“Go get ’im tiger.”
Candice’s confidence carried her almost halfway to the dance floor. Then Duke Ellington turned into Glenn Miller, and Derek escorted his partner off the floor.
Suddenly, he was alone and available.
Her confidence flagged. Her stomach clenched and her knees wobbled for a second. Hoo, boy.
The rati
onal side of her brain clicked in.
This is insane. He was tough, self-assured and powerful. Where she had butterflies in her butterflies.
Maybe she should just turn around—walk, no, run back to her table. She came to a stop and started to turn.
“Candice?” It was Derek’s voice. A bass so deep it rumbled over her nerve endings.
She pasted on a smile as she turned back to face him. “Hello, Derek.”
The orchestra music swelled.
“Dance?” he asked, holding out an arm.
No! “Of course.”
He took her hand and led her onto the dance floor, turning her in his arms and stepping into the strains of the waltz.
The back of her dress was laced in a low V all the way to her waist. His index finger brushed the bare skin between the ties. She could feel her pulse respond to his touch. She inhaled and remembered his scent—part musk, part spice.
She felt her bones begin to soften.
He gathered her closer.
“Congratulations,” he whispered in her ear.
“On what?”
“I’ve heard nothing but compliments on the decor all night long.”
She smiled in deep satisfaction. “That’s good to hear.”
“The historical society is beside themselves. Seems hand-knotted Safavid’s are true to the period.”
“I know.”
“They’re taking photos of the chandelier.”
Candice’s smile grew wider. “Hard to believe you ever doubted me.”
He chuckled. “Hard to believe.”
He pressed his warm palm against her spine, swirling her in wider circles around the dance floor. His steps were practiced and sure, and she had no trouble following his lead.
She suddenly imagined him naked. His strong arms holding her against his broad chest. The vision was enticing, compelling, like rich chocolate.
Should she ask him?
Could she ask him?
“So, what’s next?” he asked.
She tipped her head to look up at him. “Next?”
He nodded.
“You mean after the dance?”
He smiled. “Oh, Candy.” Then he touched his forehead to hers. “I meant after the renovation. What’s your next contract?”
“Oh.”
“But let’s get back to after the dance.”
“I can’t leave the party early.”
Derek hesitated, eyes dark and unfathomable. Then he spoke slowly. “Okay.”
They danced in silence to the end of the song.
As the strains drifted away, Derek pulled her close. “I’m dying here, babe. You can’t leave me hanging like that.”
She closed her eyes, leaning her cheek against his chest. “Later?” She let the tone elaborate on the word.
She felt his chest expand with a rush of air. “Whatever it is you’re asking, I’m positive my answer is yes. But, Candy…”
Candice tipped her chin to look up at him again, steeling her courage. The renovation was over. She could avoid him after tonight if she put her mind to it.
Like chocolate. She’d have her fill and move on. “You and me. One time. Just to get it out of our systems.”
“One time?”
She couldn’t help a small grin. “One night.”
He squinted. “We make love?”
“Right.”
“Yes,” he rasped. “Absolutely, yes.”
7
AS CANDICE STEPPED BACK from Derek on the dance floor, the hum in her body notched up a hundredfold. She couldn’t believe she had done it—or rather was going to do it.
A foot apart, their gazes held, breathing in sync.
Candice pointed to the room in general. “I have to…”
Derek nodded. “I know.”
She took another step back. “There are people I need to…”
“Go.”
“Okay,” she said nodding.
“Later.”
“Right.”
She made her way back to the table in a daze.
“Well?” asked Jenna as Candice sat down.
“I did it.”
Jenna let out a little shriek. “You propositioned him?”
Candice nodded. “We’re meeting later.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
“You didn’t think I’d do it?”
“No…Yes…” Jenna grinned. “I’m so proud of you.”
“This is a one-shot deal. You’d better keep him away from me after this.”
“No problem.”
“I’m serious.”
“You are a wild woman.”
A silly giggle escaped from Candice, and she slapped her hand over her mouth. “I can’t believe I did it.”
Jenna giggled in return.
“Candice Hammond?”
They both looked up, instantly sobering when they saw it was Myrna West.
“Uh, yes,” said Candice, coming to her feet.
The woman held out her hand. “Myrna West from the Seattle Historical Society.”
“Of course,” said Candice, shaking Myrna’s hand. “I heard you speak last month at the chamber of commerce. This is my partner, Jenna Reeves.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Jenna.”
“Would you like to sit down,” Candice offered, quickly moving water glasses out of the way and pulling out one of the leather-upholstered chairs.
“Why, thank you,” said Myrna, accepting the seat.
Candice sat down next to her, smoothing her sequined dress in her lap.
“I have to tell you, the board is very impressed with the results you’ve achieved,” said Myrna. “I’ve been authorized to open discussions on having the Lighthouse designated as a heritage site.”
Candice felt her eyes go wide, and a tingle worked its way up her legs. She was momentarily robbed of the power of speech.
Jenna squeezed her hand under the tablecloth.
“We’re honored,” said Jenna.
Myrna sat back and smiled. “Now normally, we’d approach Derek Reeves, as representative of the owners group. But…Well…As I’m sure you understand, his objectives have not always been in sync with the objectives of the Society.”
Candice nodded. That was a polite way of putting it. Altruism wasn’t exactly Derek’s middle name.
“We’re hoping,” Myrna continued, “that Canna Interiors might smooth the way for the Society. If you can get Derek to agree to make some changes to the restaurant and formally apply for heritage status, I’ll do my best to make sure the board gives the application a favorable hearing.”
Candice didn’t know what to say. A heritage designation? On their first major contract? It would boost their reputation and open serious doors in the heritage-renovation community. It was a dream come true.
“We’ll do our very best,” she assured Myrna. “And thank you so much.”
Myrna smiled and glanced around the room. “It’s lovely. Just lovely.”
She stood, and Candice and Jenna stood with her.
“Pinch me,” Jenna whispered in Candice’s ear as Myrna walked away.
“You pinch me,” said Candice, sinking back down into her chair. “But how in the heck are we going to convince Derek?”
Jenna dropped back down in her own seat. “Well, you will be sleeping with him later tonight….”
Candice froze. Her stomach turned into a block of concrete.
“If you pick the right moment…” Jenna continued.
Panic took over Candice’s brain, and her glance flew to where Derek stood talking to his brothers next to the dance floor. “Oh, my, God.”
“How can he possibly say no?” asked Jenna.
Candice whimpered, her fists tightening in her lap. “I thought I wasn’t going to see him after tonight. Never mind need a favor. Never mind need his cooperation.”
Jenna’s eyes narrowed. “Hmm.”
“What am I going to do?” Candice whispered. “I can’t ask him before, or
he’ll think it’s a bribe.”
“True,” said Jenna.
“I can’t ask him after, or he’ll think it was—well—a bribe.”
“Also true.”
“And I can’t back out and expect him to ever speak to me again.”
“Hmm,” said Jenna.
“You’re not helping.”
“It’s a problem all right.”
“It’s a catastrophe.”
Jenna gave a decisive nod. “You have to ask him before.”
“No way.”
“Okay, after.”
“Not a chance.”
“Then back out.”
Candice groaned. She couldn’t even imagine Derek’s reaction if she backed out. And she didn’t want to back out. Her taste buds were all set for chocolate.
“Here he comes,” said Jenna.
Candice’s heart rate kicked up. “It’s too early.”
A strong, warm hand closed over her bare shoulder.
“The Roosevelt suite,” he whispered in her ear, pressing a key into her hand.
Before she could react, he was gone.
“What’d he say?” asked Jenna.
Candice opened her palm. “The Roosevelt suite.”
“It’s the best,” said Jenna, delight shining in her eyes.
“Who cares?”
“You have to tell him before,” said Jenna. “Just make it clear that the two issues are unrelated.”
“Oh, sure. ‘Hold that thought, Derek. Before we get naked, there’s a little something we need to discuss.’”
Jenna sputtered out a laugh. “Got a better idea?”
Short of divine intervention? Candice had nothing. “The only thing worse than telling him up front would be telling him afterward.”
“Or not telling him at all,” Jenna pointed out.
“What do you mean, not telling him at all?” Like that was a realistic option.
“I mean, he’s leaving.”
“Leaving?” Candice twisted around. Sure enough, that was Derek’s back heading out the main door.
“Maybe he’s going to put the champagne on ice,” Jenna suggested.
“The party’s not over till midnight.”
Jenna straightened and waved. “Tyler?”
“Don’t you dare tell him a thing,” Candice hissed.
“I can be trusted.”
Tyler approached the table. “Hey, babe.”
“Where did Derek go?”
Tyler snagged Jenna’s hand. “I’m ready to dance, and you’re asking about my brother? What kind of a wife are you?”
High Stakes Page 8