Tall, Dark & Reckless

by Heather MacAllister

  A few minutes ago, Mark had stood in the diner’s doorway and recognized Piper immediately, even with the wig and the unflattering clothes. That had made him smile, a genuine, pure, from-the-gut smile, just like that day when he’d looked up and discovered her standing in his office doorway.

  She got to him and he had no clue why. As he’d walked the length of the diner toward her, he recalled details from their first meeting. His leg had bothered him so much he was surprised that any details had made an impression at all, but it was hard to forget those moments when they’d connected.

  Piper Scott wasn’t distracted by the Mark Banning fantasy. And in dealing with her, he’d discovered that the Mark Banning personality had no effect on her, either. Unfortunately Mark didn’t exactly know how to approach her without one of them.

  Be yourself. Oh, sure. Even during those long months with the drug bandits he’d been unable to drop the facade. People liked Mark Banning. They responded to Mark Banning. Regular old Mark was forgettable.

  He needed a different approach. Right now, Piper was more interested in people-watching in the bar’s mirrored backsplash than she was him.

  She pushed her hair out of the way and sipped her water. It was interesting how the dark wig made her skin look whiter. It was probably white all over.

  And just like that, an image of Piper naked popped into his mind. He had an instant, visceral zero-to-sixty reaction before banishing the imaginary Piper so fast, he didn’t know if she’d been wearing the wig in his fantasy or not.

  The aftereffects lingered. And lingered. Mark concentrated on her profile and told himself he would have reacted to the image of any naked female, because his body was healing. Had healed. In fact it was in prime condition.

  He should check his any-naked-female theory soon. Correction: any-naked-female-but-Piper theory. Getting naked with Piper would be bad. Great. Wrong. Oh, so very right. He had to convince her to work with him. What better way than—

  “You’re staring at me,” she said.

  He was doing way more than that. “You have a pretty nose.” And that was pure Mark speaking. Pure Mark had no experience with women, obviously.

  She gave him a sideways glance. “I have a pretty nose?”

  “Yes. It’s…strong.” Pure Mark should shut up.

  “Have you ever considered that your lines are so bad, women do what you want so you’ll stop saying them?” she asked.

  “Whatever works.”

  “An apology would work.”

  Mark thought about it. “Too soon. I haven’t been proven wrong, yet. But I’m willing to give you a shot at it.”

  She smothered a laugh. “Is that supposed to motivate me?”

  “Actually, yes.”

  Not only didn’t she react, she wasn’t even looking at him.

  “Think how you’ll feel when I have to admit that I was wrong to ignore your advice,” he said.

  “You were wrong.” She opened a small writing pad and clicked her pen. “It doesn’t matter to me if you admit it or not.”

  Wow. Looks like he should have gone for the apology. Too late. If he did so now, she wouldn’t believe him.

  He saw her write hand-cheek, slouch and he found himself automatically straightening. His leg was beginning to twinge, anyway. “BT called your work fluff. Now I know you want to prove him wrong. Here’s your chance.”

  He heard her take a slow breath and knew he had her. “So? Are you motivated?”

  Staring straight ahead, Piper sighed. “I can’t believe Dancie told you where I was.”

  “She didn’t. Travis recognized the background noise.” He looked around. “I’ve heard about this place but I never managed to eat here.”

  “Did Travis also mention that I asked you to make an appointment?”

  Wait—was he behind the curve? “You mean you already agreed to work with me?”

  She made a small sound. “Travis and I came to terms—doesn’t anyone listen to what I say anymore?”

  “I may have left before you two got to that part.” Mark had been out of the Guys of Texas office as soon as Travis told him where she was.

  She turned slightly, but without taking her eyes away from the mirrored blacksplash behind the serving bar. “This is an example of the impulsiveness that gets you into trouble.”

  “Am I in trouble?”

  She took a minute to think about it. “No, but only because I’d made a deal with Travis before you got here. Otherwise, I would have told you to get lost.”

  Smiling, he swiveled the bar stool and leaned sideways against the counter. “But you didn’t.”

  “I am now. Get lost. Make an appointment.”

  “Why? I’m already here. I’ve got fries coming.”

  She glanced at him. “There is that. But I can’t discuss your situation now. I’m working.”

  Mark followed her gaze to the mirror. Belatedly, he realized she was actively observing someone and not just people-watching. “Are you spying on the people behind us?”

  “Shh.”

  “So that’s why you’re wearing the wig.” Mark watched them for a few seconds. “What’s their story?”

  “Nice people with problems getting second dates. I’m trying to find out why.”

  No glaring reason stood out to Mark. The girl was low-key pretty. She could stand to sex it up, but then again, it was the middle of the day and they were in a diner that served fries. “Blind date?” he asked.

  “Uh-huh.” Piper sounded distracted and she was squinting.

  “And he takes her to a crowded place that only serves one thing?”

  “Two things. Fries and sliders.”

  “Still.”

  Her lips curved. “You’ll understand when you taste the fries.”

  Piper’s profile was to him and her sexy half smile caught him off guard. Off guard as in he took another unexpected zinger to the gut. And he wasn’t even thinking about her naked.

  His mouth went a little dry. That was a smile of remembered pleasure, that’s what it was. If she smiled that way when she thought about food, how would she look when she remembered other pleasures?

  Suddenly, other pleasures became very important to Mark. He remembered those pleasures. Barely. He needed a refresher. Gazing at Piper speculatively, he wondered if anyone had refreshed her memory lately. For some reason, no doubt completely self-serving, he thought not. She didn’t come across as repressed. No, she was more like paused and waiting.

  He gazed straight ahead the way she was, but he was looking at her in the mirror and not at the couple behind them.

  He didn’t think she noticed. He hoped she didn’t notice, because when his gaze shifted to his face, he saw desire reflected back at him. Desire to refresh her memory and his own, and then make new memories, the kind that would bring that intriguing half smile to her face when she thought about them.

  His body was definitely healing, because he hadn’t had an attack of sudden desire like this in ages. It was the way his encounters with women usually played out. An opportunity or a tense situation led to desire flaring and they acted on it. Each knew it was a pleasure of the moment. Not that there couldn’t be several moments, or days, but when real life intruded, the flare just as quickly burned out. It was fun while it lasted, but it couldn’t last long, and he and the woman both wanted it that way.

  He didn’t know what Piper wanted, except that she didn’t want him. He’d made sure of that. Absolutely no dazzle remained in her expression.

  She did not like him, not that it was necessary for her to. But he sensed she didn’t dislike him, either. No, this was much worse. Apathy.

  It was rare for Mark to find himself at a loss the way he was now. People either loved him or hated him, but they were never indifferent.

  Let it go, he told himself. The important point was that she’d agreed to evaluate applicants for him. Tell her thanks and go make the appointment.

  He was about to when Piper made another one of her notes: 12
:23—initiate, make more of an effort to engage. So she liked action. Good to know, because action was Mark’s specialty.

  7

  Step seven: Look for signs that he’s amenable to a relationship. Pay particular attention to the way he treats women and the way they treat him.

  WHIPPING OUT HIS PHONE and Piper’s business card, Mark tapped in her number. “I’m calling for an appointment,” he told the female who answered. It sounded like Travis’s sister. “It’s Mark Banning.”

  “Oh, hi, Mark. This is Dancie. How’s it going?”

  “Great. Especially if she has an opening this afternoon.” At the last minute, he remembered to avoid saying Piper’s name aloud.

  Their eyes met in the mirror. He gave her a slight nod to reassure her that he would be careful not to let the couple behind them overhear. He’d been in similar situations many times before.

  “Doubtful,” he heard Dancie say. “She stays pretty booked. You’ll need to talk with her receptionist, but she’s at lunch. Can I have Anna call you?”

  “Please.” After leaving his number, he asked, “Dancie, could you do me a favor and check her schedule? If today is a possibility, I’ll need to do some juggling.”

  When he said Dancie’s name, Piper blinked. It wasn’t much of a reaction, but it was something. Better than that clinical stare.

  “If today is a possibility, Anna will be the one to tell you,” Dancie snapped.

  This time, Mark blinked. “Hey, I figured it was worth a shot. Thanks.” He disconnected. “Your receptionist is going to call me,” he told Piper.

  She was back to watching the couple. “Good.”

  Seconds later her phone buzzed with an incoming text. Glancing down, she smiled as she read it. “Apparently you’re pushy.”

  “It’s how I make things happen,” he said as she tapped a response. “Because I’m an action kind of guy.”

  Piper pressed “send.” She didn’t comment about him being an action kind of guy.

  “What did you say?” he asked her.

  “I told Dancie to push back.” She set the phone down.

  “Great. Now I won’t get in for weeks.”

  “Didn’t your mother teach you to take turns?”

  “My mother wasn’t around enough to teach me much of anything.” It just slipped out and he wished it hadn’t.

  Piper turned her head and faced him fully, the first time she’d done so since he’d tracked her down at the restaurant. They locked eyes. There’s your way in, instinct told him.

  He ignored it. “Relax. I’m not going to play the poor, motherless boy card.” Unfortunately he couldn’t play the seducer card, either, and that was his best card.

  “Were you a poor, motherless boy?”

  “No. Mom was a single parent in the military. I got bounced around to relatives and friends, and then friends of relatives, and on occasion friends of friends. And once the neighbor of a friend of a friend.”

  Her expression changed and he knew she was analyzing this new data. He didn’t like being analyzed, so he’d thrown in that last bit. But when she inhaled sharply and gave him an appalled look, he decided he didn’t like that, either. “She had car trouble. It was only for a couple of hours. I made it sound worse than it was.”

  “Why?”

  “To get a reaction from you!” How did she get him to admit this stuff? “You have this way of staring at me without any expression and I imagine your mind collecting and sorting data so you can fit me in one of your little squares. And it bugs the hell out of me.” There.

  “You went to my website!” She beamed.

  It figured that would be the thing that pleased her. “Yes, I went to your website.” He’d expected to find more about dating. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think you could help.”

  “Excellent.” She looked pleased with herself as she checked on her dating couple. “So—was any of what you said true?”

  “All of it.” The words shot out like bullets propelled by years of bitterness.

  She raised her eyebrows.

  Yeah, he still had issues, but why was he getting all worked up about it now? Looking over her shoulder, he fixed his gaze on the serving window as basket after basket of fries appeared. “Sorry. I don’t go around telling people about my childhood traumas.”

  “It explains a few personality traits and it would have come out in the compatibility interview, anyway.” The matter-of-fact way she spoke helped him contain the emotional overflow.

  “What about your dad?”

  He figured she’d ask sooner or later. “Not in the picture. He and my mom served together. When she told him she was pregnant, he told her he was married. End of story.”

  She nodded. “Did you ever meet him?”

  “Not in person.” Mark was losing his appetite and had no one to blame but himself. She’d told him she didn’t want to discuss his situation now and he should have listened. “I contacted him, but he wouldn’t see me without a DNA test. I refused. But last year when I was the flavor of the month, he got in touch.”

  “And you refused to see him without a DNA test.”

  He glanced at her. “Too predictable?”

  “Just expected. He hurt you and you wanted to hurt him back. A lot of people would react the same way.”

  “Would you?”

  Slowly, she shook her head. “Only because I want to see what he looks like.”

  She wasn’t speaking hypothetically. “You don’t know what your father looks like?” he asked softly, sliding in the question. Maybe she’d forget they were discussing him.

  “I thought I did. I spent my whole childhood being angry at the man I’d thought was my dad, who left when I was little. But when I started asking Mom questions so I could track him down on the internet, she told me that my real father had abandoned us when I was a baby. Lucky me. Abandoned twice.”

  Now, there was a piece of insight, Mark thought. “So we both grew up without fathers.”

  “I had way too many fathers, but yes, we have that in common. Congratulations. Now we’ve bonded.”

  The dry way she spoke made him laugh. His phone buzzed just then and it was her office calling.

  “Banning,” he answered. He listened a few moments and muted the phone. “You’re solidly booked for at least a month.”

  Without looking at him, she held out her hand and he gave her his phone.

  “Anna, how much red time did I block out this afternoon?” After a second, she said, “Okay. I’ll be seeing Mark Banning within that block. Sure.” She handed him back his phone.

  Excellent. “I appreciate it. What’s red time?” It was odd to keep speaking to her profile.

  “Research. I’ve got a corporate consultation at three. I like color-coding my calendar,” she offered. “That way I can see how my day will be at a glance. Purple means an in-person appointment, green means I go out, black means I’m unavailable. Blue means break.” She was making notes as she spoke.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “No problem. I did offer.”

  “Not about that—for what you’re doing now.”

  “Mmm?” She frowned, but it was because of something she saw in the mirror.

  “You revealed something about yourself so I wouldn’t feel awkward about oversharing. And you did it while observing your other clients whose appointment I crashed.” He leaned back and shook his head. “Believe it or not, I’m usually a lot smoother than this.”

  “Oh, I believe it.”

  He laughed softly. He thought about leaving so she could finish up with the couple undisturbed. On the other hand, the sooner their problems were solved, the sooner Piper could start finding him a handler.

  Turning his attention to the couple, Mark observed the guy in the mirror. He slouched in the booth and fingered the packets of artificial sweetener in their little ceramic holder. He wore jeans and a T-shirt with a windbreaker bunched on the seat beside him. He was probably trying to look casual cool but was
coming off as disinterested.

  The girl smiled determinedly and lobbed conversational starters at him, which he would answer before lapsing into silence. Then she’d take a sip of her drink and try again. The only time he perked up was when their food arrived. The server set two oval plates mounded with French fries in front of them, along with a circular holder filled with tiny cups.

  “What’s that metal thing?” Mark asked.

  “Dipping sauces.”

  He watched as the girl repositoned her plate, lined up her fork and used a napkin to wipe away the condensation from her glass. Then she pulled the holder until it was directly in the center of the table, checked, and nudged it a bit to one side.

  “Mmm.” Piper made a note.

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “Shh.” Piper had leaned forward, squinting even more, her lips moving slightly.

  Mark’s attention was caught by her lips—fuller than he remembered from the sexy half smile earlier. Nice pouty lips wasted on a woman who wasn’t the pouty type. If she were… He inhaled sharply as his imagination went a little crazy. Again.

  “What?” Piper asked.

  Mark grappled for something to say. “Nobody’s dipping.”

  He wasn’t looking at her or her pouty lips as he spoke, but felt her study him silently for a few seconds before checking out the couple again.

  “They’re talking about the sauces, though. He recommended one.”

  “If the fries are so great, then how come neither one has eaten any yet?” As Mark spoke, the girl tentatively took a fat fry and gingerly dipped it in a mustard-colored sauce.

  “Big test coming up,” Piper murmured. “No double dipping.”

  The guy took one of his fries and dipped it in the same sauce. “He chose the same flavor. Does that have some psychological significance?” Mark was being sarcastic, but Piper answered him seriously. At least he thought it was seriously.