by Sara Daniel
He offered her a hand up as he nodded. Although he’d blurted the request without thinking, a date with Gretchen would be the perfect start to his new nonmodel life as he figured out how to reinvent himself. Again.
She accepted his hand and stood, bringing her lush body within inches of his.
His hormones sprang to life with a lust stronger than he’d felt in years, long before he’d lost his physical perfection. “Not a business dinner, either.”
“Sounds lovely. Shall I pick you up at, say, seven?”
“I asked you out. On a date. Not a corporate meeting. I’ll pick you up.” He suppressed a smile, not wanting her to see how much he enjoyed the challenge she presented his rusty seduction skills.
“Excellent. I’ll see you on Saturday.” She took a business card from her purse and jotted her personal address on the back. Holding it out in her left hand, she offered a handshake with her right.
He wouldn’t treat this negotiation like a business deal, but he wouldn’t leave her disappointed either. He took the card and slid it in his pocket. Then he curved his hand around her fingertips and lifted them to his lips.
Caressing her with his mouth, he savored the awareness jolting every nerve ending. He would make her forget about this modeling nonsense. Saturday night he would end his self-imposed isolation and make up for the personal connections he’d been neglecting.
Chapter Two
Gretchen’s body shook uncontrollably by the time she slid behind the wheel of her car. She drove a block away. After rounding a curve, she pulled over to collect herself.
Oh. My. God.
She’d spent the better part of the hour alone with Kyle Ramsey, inside his house. And she’d only faltered and acted like an idiot once.
Not bad considering he took the prize for the most gorgeous man to walk the earth. Coming face-to-face with nearly every major male model in the world at some point in her life provided her with the criteria to make the judgment.
She’d anticipated multiple scenarios of how the visit would play out, but she hadn’t expected an invitation for a date or the kiss. She pressed her hand to her lips where his mouth had touched. He could have any woman he wanted, yet, he’d asked her.
Sure, she’d forced his attention by knocking on his door, and no one else had been around. But she hadn’t forced him to ask her out.
Going on a date with Kyle wouldn’t be any kind of hardship. Except on her nerves. Even if he was playing an elaborate joke, she couldn’t turn down the chance to convince him to return to modeling. Her mother’s agency depended on his cooperation, and Gretchen depended on the Zola Modeling Agency’s revival to get her mother settled in her own place so Gretchen could have her life back.
Acting on her attraction to Kyle did not factor into the plan.
***
Saturday evening, Gretchen paced her bedroom, trying to find an outfit that didn’t scream business but appeared professional enough she wouldn’t look like she was throwing herself at him. She had no intention of joining the never-ending stream of women hoping to be so blessed as to grace Kyle Ramsey’s bed. She would not contribute to his overinflated ego on a personal level, even if she was forced to use professional flattery by tossing around the big names who wanted to cash in on his perfect body.
Staring at the pile of clothing rejects amassed on her bed, she sighed. Her mother was right. Black slacks, a black top, and an artfully arranged multicolored scarf would draw attention to her face and keep everyone from wondering why Kyle Ramsey had to resort to dating someone who took up the space of three of his usual-size dates. Of course, no outfit would keep her from wondering.
The doorbell rang at five till seven before she’d considered whether to wear stilettos, pumps, or flats. He was early, and she wasn’t ready, in more ways than one.
She grabbed the pumps and called out, “The door’s for me, Mother. You don’t need to get up from the couch.”
Which hadn’t been an issue for eight months because Mother had practically grown roots there, but the one time Gretchen didn’t want her to move, she jumped into action. By the time Gretchen hopped down the hall, stepping into her shoes, Mother had already swung open the front door. Her shocked expression, identical to the one on Kyle’s face, might have been amusing, if Gretchen hadn’t been so nervous.
“Kyle!” Mother reached up to hug him.
“Zola, what a pleasant surprise.” He took control, planting a chaste kiss on each of her cheeks.
“White pants after Labor Day on any other man would be a complete disaster, but you, sweetheart, can carry off anything. Oh, Kyle, I’m so glad you’re back. You were always my best boy. The cutest one, too.”
She placed her index finger on his chin and slid it down his neck. Kyle intercepted her hand and redirected it to her side.
Good grief. Her mother hadn’t learned a thing from the sex scandal. She was attempting to seduce her last remaining client. Gretchen nudged between them and took him by the elbow. “Kyle and I are leaving. Lock the door when you go to bed, Mother. I have my key.”
“You two are going out?” She appeared confused. Then her face cleared. “Oh, of course. You have agency business to discuss. Gretchen, you should have said something sooner. I would have made myself presentable to join you.”
“Gretchen has agreed to be my date tonight. I look forward to chatting with you another time,” Kyle said. He gave her mother’s hand a final squeeze then turned away.
“At least you wore a flattering outfit for once. Order a salad with dressing on the side and don’t eat more than three bites,” Mother stage-whispered.
“Thanks for the advice.” Cheeks burning with humiliation, Gretchen snapped the door closed.
“So your mom is visiting?” Kyle asked, his fingertips gliding over her elbow.
“Uh, yeah.” In retrospect, she should have warned him before he came over, but she’d thought she could sneak out the door without the two of them crossing paths.
“How long is she staying?”
“Eight months and counting.”
“I’m sorry.” His tone was heartfelt enough to convince her he remembered how difficult Mother could be without the cover of flirting and flattery.
“So am I.” Gretchen laughed. “Anyway, if you’d prefer to skip the restaurant and talk about your modeling options in private, we can head to my office.”
“This is a date, and I’m hoping you’ll become so enamored with me over dinner you’ll let me convince you to come back to my place where we can have a private meeting that has nothing to do with modeling or anything else remotely business related.” He winked.
She caught her breath. He was a master at the art of flirting, and he meant nothing by it, except to prove he wouldn’t make this critical business deal easy for anyone. Still, she’d never found herself in the crosshairs of his extensive charm and sex appeal before, and she couldn’t pretend not to be thrilled and flattered by the attention. “Well, I’m glad to see we’re both honest about our agendas for the evening.”
“This may surprise you,” Kyle said as they approached his car. “But I haven’t been on a date in a while.”
“So you decided to practice on me?” That was a little too much honesty about his agenda for her to handle, but it explained why he’d chosen her.
“No, I’m trying to tell you I’m a different person than I was a year ago. My life has changed. Women don’t throw themselves at me like they used to.”
“If they don’t, it’s because you’re holed up in your house where they can’t find you.”
He dipped his handsome head, his golden-brown hair catching the last rays of evening sun. “Regardless, I like to think I’ve become a bit more discerning.”
Did you hear, Mother? Of course, she hadn’t, and they weren’t really on a date. Gretchen had agreed to this evening to convince him to model again precisely so she wouldn’t have to deal with her mother’s assessment of her many faults on a daily basis. “I appreciate yo
ur flattery, although I assure you it’s not necessary.”
He opened the door to his car. Then he turned and glided his hand over her cheek. “It is necessary when I speak the truth.”
She melted at his touch and sank into the passenger seat, no longer caring whether he spoke the truth or was pouring on the charm. If he took her straight to his house, she’d saunter in and strip her clothes off without a second thought. His touch was a drug, and already she had a serious addiction problem.
He drove to an elegant, trendy restaurant instead. She recognized the popular venue of the modeling community despite having never eaten there herself. He might have told her he didn’t want to be part of the industry, but his actions spoke differently. This was his life. She had a mission to convince him he needed the Zola Agency at his side when he reentered it. She couldn’t let him sit on the sidelines for thirty days until his contract expired and her mother had no claim on him and lost the chance to revive her career.
After Kyle handed his keys to the valet, the maître d’ led them to a prime table in view of the other patrons. As much as she didn’t want people wondering what he was doing with her, Gretchen wished she’d worn brighter colors, so she’d draw more attention to the man at her side.
Since she couldn’t change her clothing, she focused on other tools to remind him he still owned this turf. She returned her menu to the waiter without glancing it. “Mr. Ramsey will order for me. He’s familiar with what’s good here, and I trust his judgment.”
“Just because I know what other people think is good doesn’t mean it will be good for you,” Kyle said. “I want you to tell me what you like, Gretchen.”
She squeezed her thighs together. Whether he intended the double entendre or not, her lusty mind started cataloging all the things she’d like him to do to her. “Why don’t you order what you think I’ll like, and if you’re wrong, we’ll do it all over again until we get it right?”
“If you keep making those kinds of promises, we’ll never make it through dinner.” After a meaningful pause, he shifted his gaze to the waiter. “A bottle of your best chardonnay. Stuffed mushrooms for the appetizer. Parmesan crusted tilapia. And key lime pie with a shot of Bailey’s for dessert.”
“Excellent choices. I will be back immediately with the wine.” True to his word, the waiter reappeared so quickly Gretchen didn’t have a chance to collect her thoughts.
She looked around the dining area as she sipped. Several people at a far table appeared vaguely familiar. Maybe Kyle would recognize them if she mentioned it. She was here to convince him to model as her mother’s client, and she needed to stay on track, not fantasize about the pleasures she’d find in his bed.
“I’ve never heard the story of how you got into modeling, other than being ridiculously handsome, of course,” she said, refocusing her attention. Her mother had signed him on within weeks of his high school graduation, but she didn’t know anything about his life before then. “As a kid, did you go through magazines and imagine yourself as one of the guys posing?”
“No. I was too busy playing GI Joe with my best friend. We planned to go into the military together.”
“What happened?”
“He did. I didn’t.” Kyle picked up his wineglass and downed the contents.
Okay. Perhaps the friends had fought and gone their separate ways. She treaded carefully, so she wouldn’t upset him and end the conversation. “Is he still in the military?”
“Yeah, in Afghanistan. He was in Iraq, then stationed stateside for a bit, and now on a second tour in Afghanistan. He has a wife and two little babies still on the base.”
Not a falling out if he kept up on the other man’s family status. Despite having a life of fame and luxury, Kyle sounded envious of his friend’s service and sacrifice. “Why didn’t you enlist, too?”
He shrugged but didn’t meet her gaze as he refilled both their glasses. “Modeling came calling and offered me a heck of a lot higher salary than the Army.”
“So, why are you turning down the money now? Did you finally decide to join the Army?”
“I’m too old. I don’t have anything to offer.”
“The Army or modeling?”
“Both,” he said with finality.
He’d used the age excuse last time, and she’d assured him it wasn’t an issue. She couldn’t force him to provide a legitimate reason for his decision, but she wouldn’t let him hide behind this one either.
“I can’t speak for the Army, but I can speak for the modeling community. You have plenty to offer, and companies are interested. In September, designers are booking for next year’s spring fashion shows and doing photo shoots for their spring and summer catalogs. You can show off your biceps in a tight T-shirt then throw the shirt over your shoulder and showcase your perfect abs.”
“What makes you think they’re perfect?”
He’d always been the ultimate in dreamy perfection. From what she’d seen so far, not a single thing had changed in the past year, but she’d been around models enough to know the merest hint of a blemish on their perfect bodies was the equivalent of a national disaster. “If for some bizarre reason they aren’t, they will be with the right lighting, a little airbrush, and the proverbial ‘sucking it in.’”
“Then I’ll wait until I’m ninety-five, my teeth are missing, my abs are below the waistband of my pants, and my savings is depleted before I jump back in the game and let all your fancy technology make me look twenty-one again.”
As much as she appreciated the reminder a perfect body didn’t equal a perfect personality, she wouldn’t let him stall her mission. She dug out what she hoped was a flirtatious smile. “I guess you’ll have to invite me to your place tonight, so I can check the positioning of your abs and see what else you might have tucked inside those sexy white pants.”
Instead of winking and repeating his open invitation to his house, his expression darkened and then shut down. “No.”
***
Kyle had lost his touch, or maybe he’d never had a “touch” because he’d never needed one. He’d looked forward to this date with Gretchen all week. The way her cheeks flushed pink with each compliment then turned bright red when he put his hands on her, tempted him to no end. Yet despite his decree of no business, she’d steered the conversation to the off-limits topic, and he hadn’t done a thing to stop her.
“No?” Gretchen repeated, all color gone from her cheeks. “Of course not. I apologize for throwing myself at you.” She lifted her wineglass and gulped half the golden liquid.
Wait. What? He replayed the words in his mind. He was so focused on keeping his secret under wraps he missed the first real play she’d made for his affections. And, judging from her intense mortification, the only one she’d ever make. He reached across the table, covering her hand with his own. “I didn’t reject you personally. I was putting an end to the business discussion.”
She looked as though she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t argue. Nor did she move her hand from beneath his. “Perhaps we could switch to a less volatile topic. Politics? Religion?”
Kyle laughed. Damn, he liked her. If she wasn’t trying to convince him to return to modeling, he’d enjoy a spirited political or religious debate with her. He might be even take the opposite side of an issue just to fire her up. “How about favorite color? Mine’s emerald, the exact shade of your eyes.”
“My one acceptable feature, inherited from my mother. She’ll be pleased you approve.”
“What do you mean? Your ‘one acceptable feature’? You’re beautiful, Gretchen. Granted, it’s hard to tell what your body looks like under so much black; I assume you’re attending a funeral as soon as this date is over. But damn, you have the sexiest breasts and hips. I want nothing more than to put my hands on you—”
“Kyle Ramsey, is that really you?” A shrill female voice cut across the restaurant, as patrons whipped around and gawked at the voluptuous blonde working her way through the room like she ow
ned a Paris runway. She pressed her hands on the table, leaning toward him and creating a gaping view of her enhanced cleavage. “I haven’t seen you in forever. You should have called the minute you got back into town.”
She looked familiar, but both under the studio lights and in his bed, long-legged blondes had been interchangeable. He glanced at Gretchen to see if she recognized her, too.
“Kyle’s been in town, Jamie,” Gretchen told the other woman. “He just prefers to ignore us.”
Jamie Feldman, of course. He’d shot a swimsuit campaign with her and some others a couple years ago. She had an amazing bikini body and a sweet-as-honey personality around the male models. He’d also watched her transform into a ruthless bitch with the females and members of the production crew.
“You, maybe.” Jamie dismissed Gretchen and trained her wolfish smile on Kyle. “Do you still have my number? I’m staying at the Ritz tonight and I’m feeling very lonely.” Her lip jutted out in a practiced pout, she reached a bloodred manicured nail toward his chest.
Kyle grasped her fingers before she made contact. First Zola, now Jamie. What was it with everyone wanting to touch his chest tonight? “I’m busy, and you’re interrupting.”
Of all the rotten timing. He’d never get Gretchen to trust his compliments with Jamie coming on to him. He should have taken her straight to his house and sidestepped all the potential interruptions.
Gretchen shifted her wineglass, her gaze avoiding him, but her hand shook as she helped the waiter make room for the appetizer platter.
Jamie glanced from the mushroom plate to Gretchen. “Do you have any idea how many calories, not to mention fat, are in those things? How fortunate for you not to care about your weight.”
He opened his mouth to mention he’d ordered everything, but Gretchen pushed out her chair and stood. For a moment he thought she would chuck the mushrooms at Jamie’s face. Instead, she pressed a wad of bills into their waiter’s hands. “Since you obviously can spare a few more calories than I can, help yourself, Jamie. Have a lovely evening, you two. Good night.”