by Sarah Morgan
“Shut up.” Eva bent down, her face scarlet as she tried to undo the destruction she’d wrought on her desk. “What is he doing here?”
“I don’t know, but I think we’re about to find out because they directed him this way.” Paige disposed of the napkins.
Frankie, who was never flustered, looked flustered. “I’m going to fangirl all over him.”
“You? You are Miss Cool. And I’ve got a massive damp patch on my skirt. I look as if I wet myself.” Eva dabbed ineffectually at the fabric and made it worse. “I could hide under the table and you could say I wasn’t here.”
“Stay seated,” Frankie advised. “I’m not usually starstruck, but would it be horribly crass of me to ask if I can take a selfie with him? Seriously, I can’t believe I’m meeting the mind behind the books I love.”
“His mind is a weird thing,” Eva muttered. “What’s he doing here anyway?” Her heart was racing. Her hands shook a little. “Does he look angry? Is this about the ball at the Plaza? Maybe he tried to cancel and they’re going to bill him anyway. I’m glad he finally left his apartment, but part of me wishes I wasn’t the reason.”
“Who says you were the reason? There could be a million reasons why he’s out and about in Manhattan. Calm down.” Paige rose to her feet, her smile warm and professional. “Mr. Blade. I didn’t realize you had an appointment.”
“I love your books!” Frankie stumbled over the words and Lucas flashed her a smile.
“That’s good to know.”
Frankie dug her hand into her bag and pulled out one of his books. “I don’t suppose you’d—”
“You carry that around with you?” Paige gaped at her. “Don’t you get a backache?”
“I couldn’t put it down. I’ve been reading it under my desk when you weren’t looking.”
“Seriously?” Paige rolled her eyes. “Take a reading day or something, and then come back and concentrate.”
“You want me to sign it?” Lucas held out his hand for the book and Frankie handed it over like a person in a dream. “To Frankie, yes?”
“Yes. Anything is f-fine.”
Eva and Paige exchanged glances.
Frankie was stammering?
Lucas signed with a flourish and handed it back. “My price is five minutes alone with Eva.”
Eva felt her insides turn to the same consistency as melted snow, but then she remembered the way they’d parted.
“If this is about The Snowflake Ball at the Plaza—”
“It isn’t. I’m going to call them and explain that it was a mistake.” He breathed deeply. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
She felt a flash of disappointment. She’d hoped that he would find it easier to turn up at the ball than cancel.
“Whatever you need to say, you can say it here.” Paige’s tone was pleasant but firm. “Don’t mind us.”
He held Paige’s gaze for a moment and then turned back to Eva. “I need you to come back.”
“Excuse me?”
“I need you to come back to my apartment.”
“Why? Has the Christmas tree dropped its needles?” Eva dug her nails into her palms. “Is there some problem with the food I prepared?”
“The food is delicious and the tree was intact last time I looked. It’s a great tree. If you like trees.”
“Which you don’t.”
A ghost of a smile flickered at the corner of his mouth. “I’m growing accustomed to it.”
“So if it’s not the tree and it’s not the food, then what do you need?”
“I need you.” His voice was soft. “I need you to come back.”
Confusion rushed through her. “In what capacity?”
There was a taut silence. A muscle flickered in his lean cheek. “Inspiration.”
“Excuse me?”
He drew in a deep breath. “As you know, I was having some issues writing—”
“I thought you’d fixed that.”
“I thought so, too, but it turned out that the moment you left, I could no longer write.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t understand either.” There was a gleam of frustration in his eyes. “Something about having you there, our conversations, triggered ideas. This time of year is tough for me, and you were a distraction.”
“You’re asking me to come back and distract you? I don’t know anything about writing or the writing process,” she said. “I don’t really see how I could help. Shouldn’t you be talking to your editor? Or your agent? Or if you need another writer, then my friend Matilda is more likely to empathize and understand what you’re going through.”
“Forget it.” Frankie waved a hand. “She and Chase are in the Caribbean making babies.”
Lucas shook his head. “I don’t need empathy, I need creative inspiration. You gave me ideas for a certain character in my book. While you were there, I can clearly see her, imagine her, see her actions. When you left, she disappeared for me.”
“I’m a character in your book?” Warmth spread through her. She couldn’t breathe. “You’ve put me in your book?”
“Not you, specifically, but certain aspects of a character are inspired by you. I thought I had enough to write to the end of the book, but it turned out that wasn’t true. The moment you left, I found the writing hard.”
Her heart was pounding. He’d thought about her. He’d put her in his book. She wasn’t going to read anything into that. No. She definitely wasn’t. “So I’m the inspiration for one of your characters.”
He hesitated. “In a manner of speaking. Loosely.”
“I’ve never been in a book before, loose or otherwise.” She was immensely flattered. She told herself it was that and nothing else that was making her heart sing. “I’m honored, but I can’t come back. I have to work. I’m the creative side of this company and we’re horribly busy.”
“I’ll pay you.” He named a figure that made Frankie choke on her drink.
“It isn’t just the money.” Paige was calm. “Eva is right. She plays a key role in Urban Genie. She’s the creative brain and clients adore her. They always ask for her personally. Even if we could reassign some of her face-to-face meetings, we’d still need her to be available for phone consultations. Would you be happy for her to do that from your apartment?”
“The third bedroom can be easily converted to an office. She can work there.”
“In that case I’ll give you a rate.” Paige tapped on the keyboard. “You want her until Christmas? That’s three weeks, not just days but nights, too—”
“Hey, this isn’t Pretty Woman,” Eva protested but Paige ignored her and named a figure that made Eva’s jaw drop.
“Done.” Lucas didn’t hesitate. “You drive a hard bargain. I can see why your business is thriving.”
Paige gave him a cool smile. “We charge a fair rate for our excellent service and our business is thriving because we’re the best at what we do. You want Eva full-time, in person, and she isn’t cheap.”
Eva blinked. “I—”
“You have yourself a deal.” Lucas stood legs spread, arms folded across his chest, a study in male magnetism and arrogant assurance.
“Wait a minute.” Eva stood up, her legs shaking. Saying yes would mean it had all happened on Lucas’s terms. He was a man who was used to getting his own way, but she needed to see him flex a little. On principle. “If I’m doing this for you, then I want you to do something for me.”
One dark eyebrow lifted. “The amount I’m paying could buy you a small Italian sports car.”
“I don’t want a sports car.”
His gaze locked on hers and tension shimmered between them. “Then what,” he asked softly, “do you want me to do for you?” There was an intimacy in that gaze that made her heart kick hard against her ribs.
“I want you to go to the Snowflake Ball.”
There was a long, loaded silence.
His expression was unreadable. “Why does it matter
to you if I go to the damn ball?”
“Because I want to go, and I’m not walking in there on my own. You’re going to take me.”
At least then she’d be one step closer to achieving her goal of getting out of the apartment.
“And if I say no?”
“Then I won’t come and work for you.”
His eyes narrowed. “I hardly think your partners would allow you to turn down a piece of business that significant.”
“I’m an equal partner. It’s my decision,” Eva said quietly. “So what’s it to be?”
“You’re serious?”
“If I’m stuck indoors in your apartment for the next three weeks, at least I’ll have this one opportunity to get out and meet people.”
“So you don’t plan on being my date. Your plan is to use me shamelessly to gain entry into the ball and then abandon me?”
“Yes. And that shouldn’t bother you because I’m sure you’ll be mobbed by gorgeous women the moment you set your foot inside the place. With luck, you’ll meet someone, too.”
“Too?”
“Yes. I’m going to get lucky. I feel it.” What she really wanted, of course, was to get lucky with him, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t ready for a relationship, and she wasn’t prepared to get involved with someone who wasn’t ready. She needed a straightforward relationship that made her happy. She didn’t have the emotional resilience to cope with more trauma, no matter how scorching the chemistry.
“Have you been talking with my grandmother?”
“No. I planned to stop by to see her tomorrow on my way home. So what’s your answer, Mr. Blade? Will you take me to the Snowflake Ball?”
“If that’s your price, then yes.” A sardonic smile touched his mouth. “You were the one who got me into it. Seems only fair that you have to endure the evening with me.”
“Endure?”
“Oh, yeah, the Snowflake Ball at the Plaza will be a real hardship for her,” Frankie muttered. “Torture in a tux.”
Eva shot her friend a quick glare before turning back to Lucas. “We have a deal?”
“We do. But what happens when this ball doesn’t live up to your expectations? I know that top of your Christmas list is meeting someone, but your list of requirements was pretty specific.”
Paige frowned. “You know about her list?”
“I do. What were your criteria again?” He ticked them off on his fingers. “Broad shoulders, abs, sense of humor— ability to tolerate your ancient teddy bear and enough stamina to give your condom a decent workout before it expires like the last one you carried in your purse.”
Paige glanced at Eva in disbelief. “Ev—?”
Eva felt her face burn. Why did she have such a big mouth? “I don’t see anything wrong in being honest, although I admit I didn’t mean to tell him all that. It sort of slipped out. And it isn’t a teddy bear, it’s a kangaroo.”
Frankie dropped her head onto her desk. “You’re not safe to be let out. If you go to that ball, what’s to stop you going home with some sleaze?”
“I am a very good judge of human nature.”
Frankie lifted her head and gave Lucas a long, hard look and he gave an almost imperceptible nod, as if they were in perfect agreement on something.
“She’ll be safe with me. I promise not to let her go off with anyone unsavory.”
“You think you can tell what someone is like by just looking?”
“No.” His response was immediate. “That’s why you should know she’ll be safe with me. I have no illusions about human nature.”
“He doesn’t.” Eva confirmed it. “It’s very disturbing. And I wish you’d all stop talking about me as if I’m some abandoned puppy that needs a home. I can bite when I need to, thank you.”
He turned back to her. “So now I’ve agreed to this, you’ll come back and work for me?”
“Yes. I need to pack a few things, though. I’ll come over tomorrow.”
“Tonight. Time is tight.” He checked his watch. “Give me your home address and I’ll send a car for you. I don’t want you traveling on the subway.”
“We’ll email the contract over to you right away.” Paige was brisk and businesslike and Lucas gave a brief nod and left the room.
Eva stared at her friends. “You just sold me. To the highest bidder.”
“He was the only bidder,” Frankie said cheerfully and Paige grinned as she opened up their standard contract on her computer.
“I didn’t ‘sell’ you. I cut a very good deal for Urban Genie.”
“You sold me for the same price as that small Caribbean island Matilda and Chase are currently staying on.”
“And you still get to work while you’re there. This is the deal of the century. I love my job. And you, Miss Jordan, are very good at yours. I’ve pulled up your schedule. We’ll reassign your external commitments and the rest you can do from Lucas’s apartment. Just check in here with us from time to time.”
“I’ve never been a character in a book before,” Eva said with a hint of trepidation in her voice.
“It’s exciting!” Frankie dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “I want that book! He’s the only author that makes me prioritize reading over sleep. You’re his inspiration. His muse. Whatever. He’s obviously made you his sweet, vulnerable victim. It’s cute. I can’t wait to read how he plans to murder you.”
“Victim?” The thought made her uncomfortable. “I was hoping to be the smart, sassy FBI agent or something. If I’m the victim I’m definitely going to fight back. I’d use that deadly move you taught me.”
Frankie sat back in her chair. “I only taught you one? A couple more might be useful.”
Eva had a vision of Lucas, his body hard on hers as he pressed her into the floor.
“You think he is going to have me murdered?”
“In his story, Eva. This is fiction. I don’t know anything about how a writer’s mind works, I just read the stuff. And whatever it takes, right? If he needs you as his muse, then go.”
“I don’t want to die horribly. Maybe this is a mistake.”
“It isn’t a mistake. Apart from the fact he’s paying you enough money to ensure that none of us has to work for the first six months of next year unless we want to, he’s taking you to the ball, Ev. You’re going to love that. Think of all the Prince Charmings you could meet.”
Nine
On the road trip of life, be the driver, not the passenger.
—Frankie
He’d been well and truly manipulated. He didn’t know whether to punch something, laugh or admire her.
She was so much tougher than she looked.
And now he was going to the ball, which was the last thing he wanted to do with his time. He’d been desperate enough to agree to anything.
His writing, which had flowed smoothly while Eva had been staying in his apartment, had stopped the moment she’d left. It was like slamming the brakes on a car.
As someone who had never required anything other than a pen and a blank sheet of paper in order to write, it exasperated him, but after struggling and wasting an entire day that he could ill afford to waste, he’d bowed to necessity.
He paced the length of his apartment, keeping his eyes averted from the snowy expanse of Central Park.
They’d agreed that he would take her to the ball, but hadn’t agreed how long he had to stay. He’d stay ten minutes and leave. And he’d send a car to bring her home when she was done.
Having found a satisfactory solution, he returned to his work.
It was hours later when he heard the tentative knock on the door.
“Lucas?” Her voice came from outside the door and he stood up suddenly, guilty that he hadn’t at least been there to welcome her when she arrived.
He opened the door to his study, his mind still in the fictional world he’d created.
She was standing there smiling at him, holding a tray.
He looked at the sweet c
urve of her mouth.
He was sorely tempted to haul her inside and do what he’d wanted to do that night she’d shown up wearing the peach silk pajamas, but that would lead to more complications than he was ready to handle. He knew enough about her to know they didn’t occupy the same fairy-tale land.
“Please tell me that isn’t herbal tea.”
“You said that my presence inspired your writing, and since we don’t know exactly which part of what I did cured your writer’s block, I thought we’d better keep doing the same thing. Last time you drank my herbal tea.”
“Last time I tipped your herbal tea down the toilet.”
“Oh.” There was the faintest hint of reproach in her voice. “You’re not that careful with people’s feelings, are you?”
“You didn’t know I tipped it down the toilet.”
“Until now.”
He gave a half smile. “Honesty seemed the only way to break the flow of herbal tea that’s likely to come in my direction otherwise.”
“Another way would be to drink it.”
He leaned against the door. “So is this how it’s going to be? If you’re staying here you’re going to make my life hell?”
“Not hell—healthy. The word you’re looking for is healthy.” She pushed the tray into his hands. “You drink too much caffeine and alcohol.”
“Do I have any other sins you plan to reform while you’re here? What about my work ethic?”
“There’s nothing wrong with hard work. I admire your dedication.”
Her answer surprised him. He was used to being lectured on working too hard. “How about meat? Aren’t you going to lecture me on my red meat intake?”
“I’m not feeding you red meat. Dinner tonight is my special vegetarian risotto.”
“I’m starting to regret the impulse that drove me to invite you here.”
“You’re going to love it. And you didn’t invite, you demanded. And you already paid up front so you can’t back out now.”
“You’re telling me I’ve lost all leverage.”
“That’s right. I’m in charge.” She smiled. “Enjoy your herbal tea.”