“You met him at the airport,” Brenda repeated dryly.
“We shared a cab.”
The look on her assistant’s face resembled a bull in an arena about to charge the matador. “And . . .?”
“That’s it.”
“Two dozen roses and you say that’s it?” Brenda tapped the empty vase against her palm. “Must have been some cab ride. You certainly made a lasting impression.”
Carrie’s mind returned to the charmer in the taxi. Dark curls with beads of rain glistening like diamonds. Bedroom eyes with a twinkle that hinted at laughter. A great mouth with sensuous lips that turned into a sinful smile. Dress shirt unbuttoned at his compelling throat, revealing the same shiny black curls matching the ones framing his face. Oh yeah. He too, had definitely made a lasting impression.
“Hey. A man doesn’t send two dozen roses to a woman he just happens to share a cab with.”
Carrie smiled. “This man does.”
Brenda crossed her arms and balanced her weight on one hip. Her posture let Carrie know she wouldn’t get off easy. “I think there’s more to this.”
Raising the card, Carrie tapped it against her chin as she continued to bask in the pleasure of the lovely flowers and his generosity. “Could this be his way of apologizing?”
“I knew it!” Brenda thumped the vase she’d been holding beside the one containing the beautiful roses. “Carrie. What are you talking about? Do tell. Don’t keep me waiting.”
Carrie enjoyed teasing her assistant. Drawing out the suspense, she studied the petals’ velvety softness, then motioned to the chair in front of her desk. “You know about the storm just before the plane landed. It was pouring down rain. I noticed the cab, but I didn’t see him. We ran for the cab at the same time. I reached for the handle, so did he. His hand covered mine. And . . .” She glanced to see her assistant sat on the edge of her seat. A chuckle threatened and Carrie swallowed to keep it in.
“And?”
“And he pushed me inside.”
Brenda sat frozen for several seconds. Then in a flat tone of voice, she said, “What?”
Drawing this out was pure torture for her assistant. Brenda was a hopeless romantic. Making her tone sharp, Carrie added, “He was insulting and rude.”
Crossing her arms, Brenda glanced at the flowers and back. “Right.”
“In fact, he did. He pushed me into the cab. As you know, I do not tolerate a man’s overbearing attitude. I was furious. So much so, I turned to him ready to let him have the blunt of my fury.”
“Uh oh. I’ve seen you in action. You can peel the skin off a man with words alone.” Brenda glanced at the roses again. “However, I get the distinct impression you did something else entirely.”
“Then . . .” Carrie purposely drew out the moment.
“Don’t stop now!”
“Then . . . I looked at him.” A flutter of warmth speared her center and flowed downward to spiral in her tummy. She pushed it aside. “I looked into the darkest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. The most gorgeous man I’ve ever chanced upon, hypnotized me.”
“Good Lord. I’ve never seen that sappy look on your face. Hypnotized?”
Carrie laughed. “Gotcha.”
If eyes could singe, she’d be on fire. The cross look on Brenda’s face showed she was more than annoyed. “You know, Carrie, one day a man will enter your life and really sweep you off your feet.”
“Not likely.” Carrie turned her back and shifted some papers on her desk. She had trouble ignoring the nagging thought that she had been a bit dazed, a bit lost in his eyes.
“You’re so romantic,” Brenda said sarcastically.
Carrie plucked one long stem—free of thorns—and held it to her nose. She took a deep breath and let it out with a heavy sigh. When she spoke, her voice came out raspy, breathless. “His voice had such a rich, deep tone . . . I can still feel the tingles that shivered down my spine.”
She hardened her eyes and stared at Brenda. “Is that what you expect me to say?”
Brenda smacked her knees with the palms of her hands. “You’re unfeeling.”
The flower’s smooth softness caressed her skin. Floral perfume penetrated her senses. Immediately, she thought of his scent, the distinct essence of the man who made a persistent impression on her conscious. She wasn’t unfeeling. What about the sudden hitch in her breathing when Matthew dabbed at the raindrops on her nose. The struggle to keep her eyes open, for if she closed them she’d be lost in a realm of her own making.
Brenda stood and started to pace. After three steps, she stopped. “Wait a minute. You met him at the airport?”
“Yes.”
She pointed a finger. “You shared a cab.”
“From the airport.”
Brenda held her gaze as she asked her next question. “Then you met him after your cruise? On the way back? Not on the ship?”
“Yes, Sherlock.”
Brenda curved a finger under her chin and continued pacing. “Let me get this straight. You took a cruise on a party boat full of men. And meet a man after you return?” She spun around, holding up her hands. “Where was this guy when you were on the ship?”
Carrie had to laugh. Even though Brenda worked for her, they were close enough she allowed her cheeky assistant these liberties into her personal life. “Only you would think of such a question.”
“You can tell me about your cruise later. Right now I’d like to hear about Mr. Gorgeous.”
The idea that she’d been awed was bad enough, but had she given herself away? Had she somehow exposed the exhilaration running through her body? “How do you know he’s gorgeous?”
“Are you kidding? It’s you. You’re gorgeous. Only a man of utmost confidence would have the courage to approach one of equal beauty.”
Her nose itched and she rubbed it. “You make me sound shallow.”
“Carrie. You don’t have a vain bone in your body. You’re like an ostrich, with your head so involved in business you rarely come up for air.”
“I have eyes. I appreciate a handsome man.”
“Hmm. Eye candy doesn’t impress you. But I’ll wager, something about this one got your notice.”
Yes. It did.
She read the card again.
Will you allow me to be the gentleman?
Have dinner with me.
M
Carrie closed her eyes and imagined Matthew’s voice speaking the words written as she read the card again. Recalling his sensuous tone reawakened nerves sending razor-sharp signals of awareness crawling down her spine.
Matthew had everything that went into a total package. A woman not only had to look twice, her eyes lingered, devoured. She’d been unable to pull away from the magnetism that held her captive in that cab. And that was not like her. His dark looks and sapphire eyes gave him a mysterious aura with commanding strength, which caught her attention. A man cozy in his own skin. The fact he oozed sex appeal without even trying was just an added trait.
Oh yes. She’d noticed. Carrie had taken in every inch of his alluring frame, from his daring black locks down to his designer shoes.
Artlessly mouth-watering.
She swallowed.
“This isn’t like you.”
Brenda’s voice drew her attention. “What?”
“This guy must be something else,” Brenda said.
His image flashed in her mind. A flash of white teeth in a tanned face with sparkling blue eyes.
Focus.
This puzzling reaction simply would not do.
“Why do you say that?”
“He has to be extraordinary if he impressed you.”
“Impressed?”
“You’re glowing.”
Carrie straightened and gritted her teeth. “Don’t be ridiculous. I simply appreciate a good-looking man.”
With a skeptical frown, Brenda studied her. “He’s got to be more than easy on the eyes. You treat most men with indifference.”
“M
y dealings with men are conducted by means of professional decorum.” She never let personal feelings get in the way of her occupation. Yet, she couldn’t help but remember how her brain fogged over while his eyes devoured her.
Brenda took a step closer and spoke as though she were talking to a temperamental child. “You’re a woman, Carrie. You’re allowed to act like one.”
“Like an ignorant, helpless female dependent on a man? Naïve and unsuspecting of their character? Unaware of how devious they can be?”
“You’re not your sister. And you’re not the uncaring, cold person you present to others. Not all men are the enemy. This man could prove to be the exception. Carrie, you’re a good person. You deserve someone wonderful.”
“Coming from one whose checks I sign.” Carrie sighed.
“That’s right. I know which side of the bread has butter.”
Carrie glared at her assistant. “And it doesn’t melt in your mouth?”
With one hand braced on each hip, Brenda uttered, “Go ahead, make fun when I’m trying to give you a compliment.”
Most compliments had motives. Hard work had gotten her this corner office on the executive floor. Dedication had gotten her a partnership in one of the highest rated companies. “Don’t suck up to me. It doesn’t work.”
“Don’t I know it? I see the shredded egos walking out of your office. Speaking of which,” Brenda glanced at the clock on the wall, “your next appointment is in fifteen minutes. Enjoy your roses.”
She only half heard her assistant’s parting words as Brenda slipped out and closed the door. Carrie walked around the corner of her desk with every intention of getting some work done. The bright yellow miasma at the corner of her vision, beckoned her to look . . . and look again. She got very little accomplished, for she spent more time concentrating on the sender of those flowers than the documents needing attention. Her eyes kept straying to the card and the words written there—she supposed—by his own hand.
A man who took the time to pen a thoughtful note. Propped against the paperweight on her desk, the small card stood out like a bright light in a dark room. She’d placed it smack in front of her, as if she needed its reassurance—fearful it would disappear—for then it wouldn’t be real.
The phone buzzed just as Carrie pushed out of the chair and took two steps. “Mr. Matthew Corridon on line three.”
Her heart took a nosedive. Her pulse leaped and her breath caught. What was wrong with her?
“Carrie?”
“Put him through.” She smoothed her hands down the sides of her chic skirt and settled in her leather chair. After taking a calming breath to slow her racing pulse, she settled into business mode and used her best professional voice.
“Carrie Stratton speaking.”
“Hello,” his deep voice returned.
Warmth spread throughout her body. She was in real trouble. One word . . . he’d only spoken one word and her bones had liquidized. “Hello, Matthew.”
“Have you taken the time to look out of your window this morning?”
She frowned. “No. Why?”
“The sun is shining.”
She could hear the smile in his evocative voice.
“Maybe if the odds are in our favor, the weather will hold through this evening.”
Immediately the image of a soaked shirt materialized, saturated through to the skin, unable to hide an eye-opening muscled chest. A compelling scent floated to her senses causing her gaze to focus on the fragrant blooms positioned on the corner of her desk.
She swallowed. “The roses are beautiful.”
“Ahhh. What else is a gentleman to do but send flowers to a beautiful lady with apologies for his rash behavior?”
Rash?
“Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome. I hope you enjoy them.” He hesitated. “May I have the pleasure of your company?”
Carrie traced over the writing on the card with one finger. “I’d love to have dinner with you. But . . .”
“But?”
“But . . . I guess I’ll have to take my chances on your part as a gentleman.”
“I shall conduct myself exactly as the lady wishes.” He paused. “And . . . if a drop or two of rain is called for, that can be arranged as well.”
Carrie laughed. The man was charm personified. For a moment or two she’d willingly succumbed to his allure.
“You have a captivating laugh.”
Warmth spread through her center. She heard the deepening tone of his voice and wondered how it could get any deeper. In her position, she faced financial sharks on a daily basis and without a care. Challenging powerful adversaries had become as natural as breathing. Yet Matthew made her uncertain. He had her second-guessing her every word.
“I shall make it my personal responsibility to hear it more often,” he said.
What? Oh yes, her laugh.
“Shall I pick you up? I promise to have something a little more upscale than a taxi.”
If he turned out to be another self-centered male with a counterfeit personality . . .
Before she finished the thought, she somehow knew it wasn’t true. Matthew exuded an indescribable confidence. He was his own man. Curiosity made her want to know more about him. She checked her appointment calendar. “Matthew, do you mind if we meet somewhere. Maybe in your hotel lobby? We can leave from there.”
“I don’t mind at all.”
She grabbed a pen and marked her calendar. “What time?”
“I’m currently in a meeting . . .”
Her hand stilled. “Now?” Had he disrupted a meeting to call her? Were they waiting for him at this moment?
“Yes.” He chuckled. “I didn’t want to wait any longer for your answer.”
A little thrill of pleasure warmed her insides. She shook it off.
This is ridiculous.
“If the conference goes beyond six-thirty this evening, I’ll simply call a halt. Is seven-thirty too late?”
“I know how meetings go, so I’ll understand if you get tied up.”
“I won’t. I’ll call a close and the group can resume tomorrow if need be. No one will question my motives.”
They may have only shared the cab a short time, but she recognized in Matthew a man charged with power. Yet she suspected he commanded with expertise and understanding. She sensed a generous warmth in him that would be hidden from view as he enforced his rules and discipline. Whether conference, merger, or meeting with partners, he was definitely the one in control.
“I have a corporate suite in the Manchester Building,” he added.
“The Manchester Building?” Impressive. The Manchester Building exhibited expensive decor with an elite staff that catered to each individual as if he were the most important person in the world. Only the crème de la crème entered that building. “If you can be free, I’ll be there at seven-thirty.”
“I’ll be free.” His voice lowered, knocking the air out of her lungs. “I’ll be waiting.”
Silence.
The phone dangled in her hand for several seconds before Carrie placed it on the cradle. That man had the sexiest voice she’d ever heard. She blew out a breath. Would he really end an important meeting to be with her? She wondered what his business involved. It had to be significant from what little information she’d obtained on their ride from the airport.
In her profession, Carrie dealt with prominent men who expected dominance, whether they had a million-dollar, or a hundred-million-dollar, bankroll. The more money they possessed, the more arrogant they behaved. She knew Matthew had money. His clothes and his speech attested to his resources. So why had he been in a cab and seated coach on a plane? He possessed an air of authority. A man who projected that amount of self-assurance delivered orders and entrusted them to be obeyed.
The phone buzzed again. “Edward the Turd, line two.”
Just what she needed. How did he know she was here? “Tell him I’m out of the country.”
“He knows you’re back,” Brenda said.
“How does he know that?”
“I told him.”
“Shit,” Carrie cursed under her breath. She’d have to talk to him. “Thanks a lot, Bren.”
“I also told him his two dozen roses arrived.”
Carrie scrunched her brow. What in the world . . . no matter. She would not allow her ex to intrude on one moment of her enjoyment of the bright bouquet. “You know they’re not from him.”
“Yeah,” Brenda chuckled. “He knows it too, now.”
Carrie laughed. “Brenda. You’re priceless.”
“Give me a raise. Better go tell line two that you’re too busy smelling your roses to take any calls.” With that, her assistant buzzed off.
Maybe she should give Brenda a raise. She’d earn it if she could get rid of the Turd.
Chapter 5
Matthew ran a hand through his hair as he gazed out the window of the eighteenth floor conference room, the offices his company leased for the merger meetings. He called a halt to negotiations promptly at six. Thanks to a night of frustration, he’d been damn near insufferable. Subjecting his counterparts to his mood had intimidated them enough to get the results he wanted quicker than expected. Some of the members had started to protest, but a glare from him silenced them quick enough. They could just as well conclude any unfinished business in the morning. His thoughts had been on Carrie most of the afternoon anyway.
Carrie. She captivated him the moment her head lifted, giving him the full view of her arresting face with fire shooting from enchanting blue eyes. Water dripping from her long curling eyelashes had sent rivulets of desire racing to his gut.
He smiled as he remembered the moment her body language alerted him of her temper. Indignation stiffened her shoulders and her palms fisted before she even set sights on him. Funny how it all evaporated like hot air being released from a helium balloon the moment her eyes locked with his. An extensive thrill coursed through him as he’d watched her expression change. Unguarded interest, exposed wonder. It grabbed him in a place that hadn’t been touched before.
Something More Page 3