Close Encounters of the Sexy Kind: In the Stars Romance

by Abbie Zanders

  “He’s not a dud!” Ryan said, feeling the need to defend him. “He’s extremely good-looking, intelligent, and well-mannered. In fact, he sent a lovely rose to the precinct today.”

  “The old-fashioned type, huh? Well, I guess that’s something. So, what do you want from me? Oral tips? Sexual aids?”

  “Gah, no. Just ... We’re going out to dinner, and he didn’t say where exactly, just that I should wear something casual and comfortable. What does that mean?”

  Betty’s hmmm resonated through the car’s speakers. “If this guy’s the gentlemanly, romantic type, I’d go with a simple sundress. Classically feminine without being overdone. Wear the turquoise one we bought at the outlet last year—it shows off your eyes. Oh, and a light sweater. Go light on the makeup and keep your hair down. Guys love that shit.”

  “Thanks, Betty.” Ryan laughed. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Me neither. As payment, you can buy me lunch tomorrow and tell me all the sordid details.”

  “You’re on.”

  Ryan followed Betty’s advice. She took a quick shower, spritzed her hair with a light conditioning mist to keep the frizz factor manageable, and then applied only a bit of mascara and lip gloss. Betty was right about the sundress, too. It really did show off her eyes.

  She selected a pair of comfortable, low-heeled sandals, switched to her smaller purse, and made the short walk to the bookstore, drawing some appreciative glances along the way.

  She had to admit, she did feel pretty. Hopefully, Tiberius wouldn’t be disappointed, since it was nothing like the sexy siren get-up she had worn the other night.

  The black Town car was already there when she walked up. The driver greeted her with a pleasant smile, and then surprised her by handing her a piece of paper.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “A copy of my driver’s license, as well as the license plate number of the vehicle. Feel free to take a picture of both and send them to your friend. Tiberius thought it might serve to put you at ease.”

  “Thank you.” Tiberius’s thoughtfulness impressed Ryan.

  She took a picture and sent it to Betty before climbing in when the driver opened the rear door for her. The interior was classy and comfortable, and soft classical music played through the speakers.

  Anticipation bubbled in her veins as the sedan made a smooth cruise through town. Not knowing exactly what Tiberius had planned for the evening was exciting, and so far, it was starting out nicely. However, her excitement waned somewhat when they stopped at one of the more exclusive marinas where Tiberius was waiting.

  He looked stunningly handsome in a pair of light slacks and an expensive-looking white polo that showcased his tawny skin.

  When Tiberius opened the door, Ryan took a deep breath and put her hand in his. Immediately, some of her anxiety began to ebb, though her heart continued to pound.

  As if he sensed her distress, he looked at her with concern. “Ryan, are you all right?”

  You can do this, Winslet, she mentally coached herself, looking toward the open-air restaurant on the southern tip of the marina. It’s just dinner.

  “Yes, of course,” she said, forcing a smile. “Just a bit nervous, that’s all. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date.”

  She closed her eyes in mortification. What had compelled her to blurt out the truth like that?

  “Ryan, look at me.”

  Tiberius’s voice was low and soothing, and she found herself looking into his deep, dark blue eyes. He lifted her hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles, just as he had that first night. And once again, she felt the kiss in more places than just the back of her hand.

  “I am honored to be among the few to be granted this gift. You look absolutely beautiful, Ryan. I am a fortunate man, indeed.”

  She sighed, actually sighed. Instead of thinking of her as an un-dateable loser, he assumed she was just selective. That earned him some definite bonus points and made her even more determined to see things through. She could do this. She would do this.

  “Thank you.”

  Tiberius placed his hand on her lower back. It felt so good that it took her a moment to realize he was leading them not toward the restaurant, but away from it. Right to the line of bobbing yachts.

  Well, hell.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Something had gone terribly wrong. He had planned the sunset dinner cruise down to the minutest detail. The two of them alone at sea, drinking fine wine and partaking of a lovely meal while watching a spectacular sunset reflected on the waves. It was supposed to be romantic and endearing.

  However, Ryan had grown increasingly pale from the moment he had maneuvered the small but luxurious craft into open waters. Her smiles had been forced and her body language exceptionally tense. She hadn’t even tasted the succulent lobster bites before running headlong toward the facilities, where she had remained ever since.

  “Ryan, please open the door. We have arrived back at the marina.”

  The door was opened, but she refused to look at him. Her skin was alarmingly pale, and she had tied her long, lustrous hair into a messy knot at the base of her skull.

  “I am so sorry.” She whispered the words, punctuating them with a sniffle. “I thought I could do it.”

  “Thought you could do what?”

  “This. The boat. The seafood. But I can’t. I just can’t. Not even for you. I’m sorry.”

  She did look at him then, and her inner torment cut through him like a knife. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

  “Why did you not tell me?”

  “You went to all this trouble and expense. I can’t even imagine how much this cost.”

  “Money is unimportant,” he consoled. “Your comfort and happiness are far more valuable to me.”

  She sighed and softened against him. “That’s a nice thing to say.”

  “I speak only the truth. Now come. We shall relocate to somewhere you will feel more at ease.”

  Without waiting for a response, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her off the boat, where Antonio was waiting for them with the car. Though he was loath to release her, he gently placed her in the back seat then joined her.

  “Where to, sweet Ryan?”

  She looked at him with big, round eyes. He was pleased to see that some of the color had returned to her face. “Don’t you just want to cut your losses and take me home?”

  “Absolutely not. Unless, of course, that is what you wish.”

  She looked down at her hands, now folded in her lap, and said quietly, “I would like to go home, please.”

  Tiberius’s heart fell. In his desire to impress his mate, he had made a mess of things. Clearly, he had to try much harder.

  Ryan gave Antonio her address.

  For the duration of the ride, Tiberius tried to think of something, anything to extend their time together, but he was at a loss. He hadn’t considered his plan would fail, let alone so spectacularly, and had neglected to formulate an alternative.

  When they arrived at her apartment building, Antonio got out to open her door. Tiberius got out, too, but hung back at the car, disgusted with himself. How was he going to fix—

  “Aren’t you coming?”

  He lifted his gaze, certain that he had heard incorrectly. Ryan was poised at the entrance, looking back at him. “Coming?”

  “Yes, well, since I ruined your incredibly thoughtful plans for the evening, the least I can do is feed you. It won’t be anything as impressive as what you had, I’m afraid, but I can grill a mean burger. That is, if you don’t mind.”

  Mind? His heart leapt. “I would be most honored.”

  Her smile widened, and he felt the power of it course through his veins.

  Unprompted, she took his hand in hers and led him inside. “The elevator’s busted, but I’m just on the third floor, so it’s not too bad of a climb.”

  Tiberius realized w
hat a big step this was for his mate. First, she had voluntarily divulged her address, and now she was inviting him into her personal abode.

  He paused at the base of the stairs. “Are you sure you are comfortable with this, Ryan?”

  She grinned shyly, unknowingly testing the fit of his trousers. “Yes. I figure, any guy who can listen to me retch for thirty minutes and not leave skid marks the moment we hit the dock has earned a bit of trust on my part.” Her eyes turned mischievous. “Besides, I am a cop. If you try any funny business, I’ve got seven years of Krav Maga under my belt, an unregistered thirty-eight on my person, and I know exactly how to dispose of a body so it will never be found.”

  He laughed, delighted. “Then I shall endeavor to be on my best behavior.”

  His mate’s dwelling was small and cozy, completely at odds with the opulence and grandeur of Bait. A few inexpensive but pleasing images adorned the walls; the furnishings designed for function and comfort. The place reflected the woman herself—modest and comprised of substance and character instead of shallow ostentatiousness. Not to say that she wasn’t attractive. In fact, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

  She had a natural radiance about her that he preferred, now clearly visible that it wasn’t hidden beneath the mask of cosmetics she had worn the night they had met.

  “Would you like to get the grill started while I pull some patties out of the freezer?” she asked, pointing toward an appliance on her miniscule balcony.

  He had never seen anything like it. Mostly rectangular in shape, it had a domed lid and an assortment of knobs. However, he was unwilling to admit his ignorance, particularly when he was being granted a second chance to prove himself worthy. As a member of an advanced civilization, he was certain he could figure it out.

  A few minutes later, he discovered how wrong he had been.

  “You’ve never worked a grill before, have you?” Ryan asked as she dabbed at his singed forehead with a cool, damp cloth.

  “No.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “For the same reason you did not inform me of your aquaphobia, I imagine.”

  “I don’t have aquaphobia,” she countered. “I just tend to get seasick and have a thing about the ocean.”

  “A thing?”

  “Yeah. When I was a kid, someone stuck a live crab in my lunchbox. I thought it was a gag and played along, right up until the thing reached out and bit—pinched—me on the lip. I’ve hated anything that swims or crawls around the shore ever since.”

  He winced inwardly in response, acutely aware of his aquatic nature. “A pity,” he said carefully. “There is much beauty to be found in the sea.”

  She applied some ointment to his skin, her touch gentle and soothing. “I suppose. I mean, I’ve seen pictures of some tropical islands that look amazing.”

  Tiberius made a mental note to purchase a tropical island for his mate as soon as possible. “Then perhaps we can work on this aversion of yours, and when you have overcome it, an island getaway can be your reward.”

  She laughed. “On a cop’s salary? I don’t think so. But it is a nice thought.”

  He opened his mouth, prepared to tell her that, as his mate, she would want for nothing, but then he thought better of it. They would work up to that. Spice had suggested, and he agreed, that revealing too much too soon could be overwhelming.

  Ryan showed him how to properly operate the incendiary device, and he got the hang of it quickly. He had to admit, there was a certain primitive satisfaction in commanding the flames.

  They ate a delicious meal of seasoned beef patties and cylindrical crispy bits she referred to as “tater tots,” dragged through a viscous, tangy red sauce. It was being in the company of his mate, however, that he enjoyed most of all.

  As the evening went on, she grew increasingly comfortable in his presence. He plied her with more questions about her family, her schooling, and her career, voracious to know everything about her.

  “What about you?” she asked, sitting back and propping her cute little feet upon the wrought-iron balcony railing. “Once again, you’ve managed to get me talking about myself all night.”

  “I find you quite fascinating.”

  “Right,” she said on a laugh, as if she didn’t believe him.

  “You are to me.” Another thing they would be working on—her skepticism, particularly where he was concerned. She would know that she was the center of his universe, and he would remind her of such every day.

  A lovely shade of rose colored her cheeks. “Your turn. Tell me something about you.”

  “What do you wish to know?”

  “I don’t know. Anything. Everything.”

  “I am not sure you are ready for that,” he answered honestly.

  “Mmm, a man of mystery, huh? Let’s start with something easy. Where are you from?”

  He laughed softly. “That question is not as easily answered as you might think.”

  She grinned, tucking her legs beneath her. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you? Hm. Okay. I took a course in profiling, so how about I try to guess things about you and you tell me if I’m warm?”

  He tilted his head, puzzled by her statement. “Of course you are warm. Your normal body temperature is ninety-eight point six degrees Fahrenheit, thirty-seven degrees Celsius.”

  She laughed. “Accurate, but not what I meant. I’ll formulate guesses based on the little bit I do know about you, and you tell me how close I am to the truth.”

  The idea held merit. There was still a risk involved, but not one as great as blurting out the truth all at once. Perhaps if his clever mate could assemble some of the pieces herself, her acceptance would come easier.

  “Ah, I see. A game.”

  “Exactly.”

  “All right. You may proceed.”

  “Okay. First off, I’m going to guess you’re not from anywhere around here.”

  He nodded, amused. She had no idea.

  “Based on your speech patterns and the way you carry yourself, you are highly educated and had a strict upbringing. Probably rather sheltered, too.”

  He nodded again, fascinated by her thought process and attention to detail.

  “What I can’t seem to figure out,” she said, leaning forward, “is what you were doing at Bait the other night. You don’t seem the type.”

  “Neither do you,” he pointed out.

  “No,” she agreed, “but as I already explained, I was there for my friend Betty. What’s your excuse?”

  Tiberius took a deep breath. “I own it.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ryan blinked, her smile fading somewhat. “You own it?”

  “Yes, with my brother, Quintus.”

  She waited for the punchline, a playful smirk, or any other sign that he was teasing her, but none came. Instead, his brow furrowed.

  “This displeases you?”

  Displease didn’t adequately describe the level of WTF she felt at learning that the guy she’d thought was such a gentleman owned a place where such hedonism thrived.

  Disappointment did, though. She should have known he was too good to be true. Her old-fashioned, well-educated, mannerly date was actually Golden Beach’s own version of Bob Guccione.

  Following that thought was a bizarre image of Tiberius lounging naked on a pile of fur rugs, surrounded by scantily clad, gorgeous women with hundred-dollar bills floating in the air like confetti.

  Her stomach churned uncomfortably.

  Instead of responding directly to his statement, she said, “Let me ask you something. That yacht we were on tonight; did you charter it, or do you own it?”

  “Ryan ...”

  “Answer the question, please.”

  He exhaled. “It is mine, though I fail to see how that is relevant.”

  No wonder he hadn’t balked at the cost of a few lost lobster bites or wasted rental fees. He was probably loaded. She wondered what else she had been wrong
about, then realized she probably didn’t want to know.

  “Oh, it’s relevant,” she murmured. “I was way, way off base. Here I thought you were someone I could ... Well, it’s not important.” She summoned a weak smile. “I guess I don’t really have a career in profiling, huh?”

  Her little joke fell flat as she got up.

  Tiberius stood, too, and blocked her path toward the kitchen. “Finish that statement, please. Someone with whom you could what, Ryan?”

  He was so close. He smelled so good. Unfortunately, the “cons” column of her perfect guy checklist had filled up pretty quickly. Not that being super rich was a bad thing, but being the owner of a nightclub known for illicit activities? That was about as far from the slightly awkward, potential kindred soul she had thought she had found. How could she possibly be so wrong about someone?

  “It’s getting late, Tiberius. Perhaps we should ...”

  “Oh, we definitely should.” He gently cupped her jaw with his large hands then slowly lowered his head toward hers.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, the vague notion that she should protest floated around, but it got lost in a jumble of hormone-hijacking pheromones or something.

  He took his time, giving her plenty of opportunity to say or do something to stop him, but she didn’t. Instead, inexplicably, she allowed him to brush his lips across hers once, then twice. And when he tilted her head slightly to get a better angle, she reached up and gripped his biceps, not to push him away, but to pull him closer.

  New visions danced in her head. Those of the two of them naked and doing wicked, wicked things. As if he could read her mind, he groaned and deepened the kiss.

  By the time he pulled away, Ryan felt lightheaded, overheated, and aroused.

  He stared deeply into her eyes for several long moments, then pressed his lips to her forehead and stepped back. Her body leaned forward without conscious thought, wanting more of that contact.

  “If I stay even a moment longer, I will make every one of those visions a reality,” he said, his voice a low growl that sent bolts of want right between her legs. “You have many questions, and I will answer all of them, but not tonight. Until then, I ask only that you let go of your preconceived notions, Ryan Winslet, and see me with your own eyes. See me”—he took her hand in his and pressed it over her heart—“with this.”