Sophie's Playboy

by Natalie J. Damschroder

  "Keep the cost low, now," Stevie cautioned on their way to the restaurant. It was only a few blocks away, but Sophie was cursing her shoes before they'd gone halfway. She hadn't thought about walking there, but who drove in the city when they didn't have to?

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  "What, no hors d'oeurves?" she teased their frugal program manager.

  "It's pushing it for four of us to go on the station's dime,"

  Stevie protested. "We don't have to rack up a huge bill."

  Parker slung his arm over the shorter man's shoulders.

  "Relax, Stevie. We need to get the full experience if we're to provide a full commercial."

  "Why isn't it comp, Stevie? They should be giving this to us free if they expect a biased review." Sophie was joking, but Stevie threw a concerned look over his shoulder at her.

  "The sales person forgot to discuss that aspect of the arrangement. Don't say anything about it, Sophie. Just let me handle it."

  Sophie exchanged an amused glance with Parker. Both of them were adept at tactfully handling any business situation and, if Sophie hadn't been so focused on her romantic relationship with Parker, she would have viewed this date in exactly that light.

  She suddenly felt like she was on more stable ground.

  Except for the heels. She was very grateful when they got to Morgan's.

  Parker spoke to the maitre d', who seated them immediately, apologizing for having to seat four at a small square table.

  "We were only expecting Mademoiselle Macgregor and Monsieur Cornwall." He paused. "Pierre will be your garçon this evening. He will be with you en un moment." He gave a short bow and waddled back to his station in the lobby.

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  Sophie rolled her eyes at the man's fake French accent. "I thought this was a steak house."

  Parker nudged her with his elbow. "Lighten up. We need to rave, remember?"

  Sophie tried hard to lighten up, but for some reason grumpiness had taken hold of her. Maybe it was the shoes.

  Maybe it was having to do something that she didn't want to do. Maybe it was being squeezed between Stevie and Parker and bumping menus because no one had called ahead.

  Or maybe it was because Parker was more engrossed in his menu than her cleavage.

  She tried to ignore him back without feeling childish and couldn't quite manage it. Grow up, she told herself and focused on the entrées. It didn't take long for her to decide on the filet mignon and lobster tail. Something basic that she could easily judge. If Stevie had a problem with the price, she'd pay for it herself.

  While the others debated what to choose, she looked around to examine the ambiance. Low lighting was romantic but placed in such a way that her companions and her place setting were visible. Tables were far enough apart that conversations didn't intrude on each other and people could get by without a hundred " excusez-mois." Sophie also noticed that the far end of the restaurant held families, while the section they were in was mostly adults. Clever. Both segments of the market were accommodated. She made a note on her small notepad.

  "Is this restaurant non-smoking?" she murmured to Parker. He nodded. Another point in their favor.

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  The waiter arrived and—speaking unaccented English, Sophie was relieved to note—took their drink orders. Stevie glared at Parker when he ordered a bottle of expensive wine.

  "How about this," Parker offered. "If the advertiser doesn't cover it, I'll pay for the wine."

  Mollified, Stevie went back to his menu.

  "Are we ready to order?" The waiter stood next to the table, pen poised over pad.

  We. What, were they in a nursing home or something?

  Sophie smiled sweetly. "Are you joining us?"

  The waiter eyed her. "Can I?"

  Sophie laughed, her bad mood immediately gone. "Maybe next time. I'll have the surf and turf with rice pilaf and a tossed salad, vinaigrette dressing, please." The waiter winked at her when he finished writing down her order. So she wasn't a total loss.

  Parker ordered chicken cordon bleu, Melina a veggie wrap, and Stevie a hamburger.

  "We have to get the full range of menu items," he protested when Sophie and Parker teased him. Trying to change the subject, he asked Melina if she was a vegetarian.

  "No. Just trying to stay in my jeans."

  "Please!" Parker raised a hand. "No diet talk! I get enough of that from my sister and stepmother."

  Melina scanned the little group, then smiled uncomfortably. "Would it make you feel better if I told you I had a medical reason?"

  The chuckles ceased. Stevie cleared his throat. Melina looked like she was sorry she'd said anything.

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  "Are you pregnant?" Sophie blurted, hoping it was a

  "positive" medical condition.

  "I wish." Melina licked her lips, then drank some of her water. "I have PKD. Polycystic kidney disease. I'm on dialysis."

  "Wow." Stevie stared at her. "You'd never know it. You look so healthy."

  She shrugged. "Well, I am. Mostly."

  "How often do you go to dialysis?" Sophie asked. She'd known Melina had frequent appointments that kept her away from the station when they weren't doing the show, but she'd thought she had another job. The producer kept to herself, and it surprised Sophie that she'd told them this now.

  "Now it's three times a week. Next week I have to start doing four." She fiddled with her straw. "It may start to interfere with our off air work, so I thought you should know."

  Sophie didn't know much about kidney disease, but she knew once someone was on dialysis, they didn't get better.

  "Are you heading for a transplant?" she asked softly. There were tears in Melina's eyes when she nodded.

  "Eventually." Her voice was hoarse. "My—" She stopped and placed her hand against her throat. "My family is small, and mostly in Greece. I'll have to rely on an anonymous donor."

  Parker, who had been silently watching her until now, reached forward and put his hand on hers. "Whatever I can do to help, Melina, I'll do."

  She smiled wanly at him. "Got an extra kidney?"

  Parker didn't hesitate. "If that's what it takes, yes, I do."

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  In that instant, Sophie leapt over the wall she'd been climbing and fell irrevocably in love.

  * * * *

  Sophie couldn't wait for dinner to be over. The waiter had apparently been told who they were and instructed to give them the royal treatment. He brought appetizers and soups and salads for them to sample. He let them linger over the early courses and gave them extra-warm bread with garlic butter. Their entrées seemed to be cooked with the freshest foods they had on hand and prepared exactly to order.

  Still, Sophie had to concentrate on her meal so she'd have something intelligent to say when they did their commercial the next day.

  Parker loomed large to her left, smelling like Drakkar and himself, his cutting hand brushing Sophie every once in a while. Her whole body felt flushed, her heart had swollen to fill her chest, and she could barely swallow a bite.

  Parker didn't even seem to know she was there.

  She was desperate to get him home, in her bed, over her, under her, next to her. With her.

  It would be foolish, she knew, dimly hearing the chatter around her. She tuned in briefly. Station gossip. Her rushing thoughts blocked it out. Parker was not into commitment, and Sophie was. Parker would likely run screaming if she mentioned the "L" word.

  No, she amended, he wouldn't run screaming. He'd gently and subtly introduce her to another guy, then slowly fade out of her life.

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  They finally finished their desserts and called for the check. Their smiling waiter shook his head. "They won't let me." He shrugged and winked again at Sophie. She didn't respond, still deep in thought about Parker and her new feelings. He would fade from her life, she knew, but it would have a far bigger impact than ending his relationships usually did.

  "I'm gonna just walk home," Stevie told them, and motioned down the street. He looked relaxed in a way he never did, mellowed no doubt by the gratis meal. He wandered away, whistling, his hands in his pockets. Sophie followed Melina and Parker back toward the station.

  If she gave Parker any hint of what she wanted, what she felt, he'd be gone. And in leaving, he'd ruin her show and put her right back where she'd started. Restless, drifting, lonely.

  But this time, she'd also be brokenhearted. It might cost Melina her job also, and she no doubt needed it.

  Sophie put a hand on her queasy stomach. Parker and Melina were talking about medical stuff. Sophie joined them, needing to take her mind off herself. As long as they discussed kidneys and not hearts, she'd be fine.

  * * * *

  Parker wondered what Sophie's next move would be.

  When he'd arrived at the station and saw what she was wearing, he knew she had intentions. Moving forward, moving backward—interpreting his parting statement in the least innocuous way. For the first time in his life, he didn't know what to do.

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  When he'd heard Brianna's message the night before, he'd been furious. The thought that Sophie considered him a frivolous playboy—and therefore, her plaything—had turned his passion into towering rage. Then, when she'd said he had depth and intelligence, the anger had flared out and was replaced by something he couldn't define. Both reactions terrified him.

  Why did he care so much what Sophie thought of him?

  He'd worn his playboy image like a cloak for years, not caring what anyone thought of it. It had protected him and protected others from him. Now, suddenly, he detested that image even if Sophie apparently saw through it.

  He cared more what Sophie thought of him than he'd ever cared about anyone, ever.

  Maybe he cared more about Sophie than he'd ever cared about anyone, ever.

  So when they got back to the station, he didn't know what to do.

  "I'll see you tomorrow," Melina said, and started to walk to her car. She paused and smiled at them. "Don't look so sad.

  I'm not dying."

  Her joke fell flat, but she just shrugged and waved goodbye.

  "You'd really give her your kidney?"

  Parker looked down at Sophie, who was still watching Melina cross the parking lot.

  "Of course," he answered. "If it was a match."

  Now she looked up at him, and what he saw in her eyes both thrilled him and increased his terror a thousandfold.

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  "Sophie..."

  "Come home with me tonight, Parker." Her hand laced with his. "Just come home with me."

  He couldn't say no, and for the first time, he didn't feel doomed.

  * * * *

  He followed Sophie to her condo and in the front door. She didn't look over her shoulder as she strode down the hall, her hips swaying enticingly due to those ridiculous—but sexy—

  high heels. Parker felt a bit like one of the Pied Piper's kids, but he was helpless to do anything else.

  Sophie moved into the bedroom and toward the center of the room. Her back still to Parker, she unbuttoned her blouse and peeled it off her shoulders. He leaned against the doorjamb and folded his arms. She acted like she was alone.

  Her movements were natural, not deliberately seductive, but his mouth went dry anyway.

  She turned toward the closet, and he almost swallowed his tongue. Her breasts swelled over the top of her black bra. His vague arousal went into high gear.

  Still she ignored him.

  He watched as she tucked the blouse into a laundry bag, then unbuttoned her skirt and stepped out of it.

  And stood in front of him in a black push-up bra, a garter belt with sheer black stockings, and super-high heels. His fantasy come to life.

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  sexiest thing he'd ever seen, and he didn't want to disrupt it for anything. He couldn't wait until she removed the bra. He could imagine her breasts spilling free, swaying, the nipples hard. He held his breath in anticipation.

  But she didn't take off the bra. She sat at an old-fashioned vanity and started to unpin her hair. Once it had fallen to her shoulders, she brushed it slowly until it gleamed. She didn't look at Parker in the mirror. Or at least, he didn't think she did. He couldn't tear his eyes from the swaying of her breasts. God, he wanted to touch.

  But she was teasing him, and he was loving it. Loving her for giving him this gift. Prolonging the anticipation until it damn near killed him.

  She swiveled to one side and bent to slip off her shoes.

  Parker nearly snorted and pawed the ground at the sight.

  When she straightened, she turned back to the mirror, then reached behind her and undid the clasp on her bra. Her breasts popped free, just as he'd imagined. She sighed in obvious relief, dropped the scrap of satin, and massaged the faint red lines left by the edges of the bra. Her eyes closed in pleasure.

  "Jesus Christ, Sophie," burst from him. His hands dropped to his sides and he took a few steps toward her.

  She smiled at him in the mirror. That confident smile of a woman in complete control of her man.

  Sophie stood and turned to face him. "Hello, Parker." She reached for the garter and Parker stopped her.

  "Leave them on." He smoothed her hair where it lay above her breasts. "God, you are so sexy."

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  "Thank you."

  "You have no idea what you've done to me tonight."

  "I have some idea." Her hand pressed against his hardness and he drew in a quick breath.

  "You are a witch," he said through grinding teeth.

  "Yep." She tilted her head. "Does that mean you don't want me?"

  "Yeah, right, I don't want you. Like a starving man doesn't want a crust of bread." He walked her backward to the bed and watched her bounce as she fell back onto it. His pants became even tighter. He winced as he undid his belt and opened the zipper, then sighed his own relief.

  "Come here." Sophie beckoned and he went, supporting himself on one knee and bracing his arms next to her shoulders. She reached up and unbuttoned his shirt.

  "Mmmmm." She licked her lips. "Now, that's sexy." Her hands stroked over his chest, plucking at the little bit of hair he had.

  Her lips twitched and he wondered what was funny. Then he didn't care because she was fingering his nipples. His eyes drifted closed, his mind focused on the path of her hands.

  Down his sides, over his back, around his waist to his belly. A near tickle, her touch increased his arousal until he wasn't sure he wouldn't just explode right here, right now.

  "You haven't kissed me yet," she murmured, her hands moving to his shoulders to slide his shirt off.

  "Didn't I? I don't remember." Exerting incredible control, he slowly bent his elbows and brushed his lips over Sophie's.

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  push them down. "I want to devour you," he murmured against her mouth.

  "Do it." At that moment, her hands found him. He crushed his mouth to hers and lunged, almost driving himself deep, as deep into her as he could go. But he stopped himself. He knew she wouldn't be ready.
Men could come just watching a woman, but women needed more. Women needed touch.

  So he touched her. He pulled back and fell to his side, propped on one elbow. He smoothed the other hand down her neck to her collarbone.

  "Parker, I don't want slow and gentle. I want you to devour me." She tried to reach for him.

  "Shh." He pushed her hand back to the bed. "Don't worry.

  I'll devour you." Increasing his pressure, he slid his hand down her chest and covered her breast. She arched. He pinched her nipple and her mouth opened in a gasp. "Harder,"

  she urged, so he squeezed harder, and she moaned. He did it to the other breast and she writhed on the bed.

  God, she was hot.

  He lowered his mouth to her breast and sucked, simultaneously pinching the other breast. She screamed almost silently. He moved his hand lower. When he checked her dampness, his finger slid inside almost of its own accord.

  He bit down lightly, and felt her squeeze his finger as she came.

  Quickly he moved over her and positioned himself. She parted her legs and grabbed his hips to pull him into her.

  "Parker, God, it's not over!" She arched against him, trying to move his hips. He drove into her, amazed at how 189

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  completely wet she was, overcome by her slick heat and the look of desperate ecstasy on her face. Even moving, he could feel her squeezing him rhythmically. Her orgasm never seemed to end, drawing his with it, higher, higher, incredibly higher, to a peak he'd never experienced before.

  Just before he exploded, Sophie's eyes met his. Her lips didn't move, but he heard it just the same. The fear in his heart had no chance against the other emotions that flooded him. Me, too, he thought, then burst into flames.

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  CHAPTER 12

  Sophie went to work the next day feeling like she'd gotten ten hours of sleep instead of, oh, about two. She'd spent the drive home after dinner planning how to keep emotion out of their lovemaking. How to avoid talking about it and scaring Parker off. She'd decided simple seduction would do the trick, and it had.