The light flipped to green and the two limousines in either lane ahead of them inched forward.
Jace shifted into first and checked his rearview. For the barest flicker, vulnerability shined in his dark, passionate eyes, there and gone so quickly she almost missed it. “I’ve got a law degree from UNLV. Went on a full scholarship.”
“You?”
He shook his head, his self-deprecating smile driving home how her shocked response had easily proven his point. “Like I said, people see what they want, no matter what’s really there.”
She reached across the console and gripped his thigh, the powerful muscle beneath coiled tight. “Jace, I—”
“Doesn’t matter. I know what I’m capable of, even if others don’t. And I’m usually capable of a hell of a lot more than they are.”
“No, that’s not it at all. I just...” Never gave you a chance to fill that space. Never looked beyond the surface. But there was more to it, too. Something he didn’t realize either. “The thought of you in a quiet library poring over legal documents is a little incongruent. You seem so much bolder than that. Larger than life.”
He glanced at her, one scrutinizing pass before he downshifted and whipped the car into the valet line beneath the white lights and boldly colored banners. Pulling in a slow breath, he threw the stick in neutral and yanked the brake.
The valet opened her car door, letting the crowd’s animated rumble whisk away the silence.
Viv shifted to swing her legs over the car’s low clearance, but Jace’s hand clamped on her thigh.
“What’s fair is fair, sugar. You owe me an equal revelation.” He released her only to grip the back of her neck and whisper against her lips. “Think on that.”
* * *
The last bite of chocolate torte melted on Viv’s tongue, a hint of mint making the dessert that much more decadent. She stifled an appreciative moan, gingerly set her fork on the plate, and relaxed into the padded chair back with its silver silk cover.
Jace leaned in, one arm casually draped behind her while his calloused fingertips traced idle designs on her shoulder. His low, raspy voice hummed through her, amplifying her already sugar-induced high. “You could do this in your sleep.”
“Eat like a frat boy?”
His sinful chuckled drew an envious glance from the woman beside her. “Coordinate an event like this.”
Heat flooded her cheeks and her chest drew tight, the simple pleasure that came from his belief in her building the same kind of pride she’d felt the first time she’d ridden a bike with her dad running alongside her. Only this was more heady and potent. “You haven’t seen my work yet. Not really.”
“Don’t think so?”
She shook her head.
He lifted his chin toward the plate. “What kind of china is that?”
“Wedgwood.”
Pursing his mouth, he looked around the room. “How many people do you think they have staffed?”
“I’d estimate thirty up front and half that in the kitchen. But don’t forget the bartenders during cocktail hour. That probably adds another ten.”
“How do you think the auction went?”
“The paintings went exceptionally well, and the sports memorabilia did great with the men, but the spa packages were a little too lean to draw good attention from the women.”
“Care to tell me how much this meal ran the charity per plate?”
“At five courses with three entree choices and the size of the waitstaff, it probably ran two-fifty to three hundred a plate, though a little higher wouldn’t surprise me with a well-known caterer.”
He leaned so close, his warm breath fluttered against her face. “Still think I haven’t seen your work?”
Tingles fanned out across her shoulders and her breath thinned to the point she was surprised she didn’t pass out. “Oh.”
“Oh.” He grinned at that and sat back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. If she hadn’t seen him in faded Levi’s and a leather jacket, she’d have easily placed him as the careless debonair sort. “Don’t forget I’ve heard an earful from Axel. The man’s half in love with you and your plans.”
Finally, an opening. After the tension in the car on the ride over, she’d begun to think she wouldn’t have another. “Why am I working with Axel?”
He deliberated for tense seconds, his thumb swiping along the soft blue tablecloth in an absent rhythm. “Because I’m not afraid to mix pleasure with my business, but I want to make sure you’re grounded in how much value you bring to the table before I show you how it’s done.”
Oh, boy. Her stomach loopty-looped in an amusement park spin, and her pulse skittered in a way that couldn’t be good for her bloodstream. He really wanted something between them. Enough he was willing to take his time and build her up in the process. Wasn’t that what she’d always wanted? A partner to go along with the chemistry?
A middle-aged brunette with a classic chin-length bob to Jace’s left touched his sleeve and motioned to the man on the other side of her. “Jace, have you met Mr. Downing?”
Jace transitioned smoothly to introductions as he had throughout the night, standing and confidently shaking the man’s hand before settling back in his seat with pleasantries and easygoing smiles. The way he interacted with those around him was astonishing, his poise putting others at ease even though his presence stood head and shoulders above the rest. He was like a panther padding through a herd of thoroughbreds. They might be well-to-do, but she got the sense he could take them all down in a heartbeat if he were so inclined.
The thought jettisoned a shiver through her.
Jace noticed the tremor and turned away from the woman beside him midsentence. “You all right?”
Smoothing her napkin atop her lap, she coughed to hide her fluster. “Just making observations.”
The nod he gave her was nearly as unconvincing as her answer had been, but he didn’t push it, instead gesturing to her wine. “You want another?”
Given she’d managed to nurse her last one for over an hour, she figured another couldn’t hurt. “Why not?”
The smile he graced her with left her stunned, her mind tuning out everything but his powerful form and confident strides as he prowled across the room.
“He’s larger than life, isn’t he?” The society woman seated at Jace’s left studied him as he wove through mingling crowd. Her expression spoke of lost days and way too many regrets until she beamed a shy smile at Vivienne. “If half our donors knew what he did to help our youth, they’d be ashamed of their own meager efforts.”
“Jace?”
She nodded and forked a small bite of otherwise untouched torte. “Yes. He insists on keeping his involvement anonymous, though I guess I can understand why. If other charitable organizations found out he was willing to provide full college scholarships for their organizations, they’d be banging on his door nonstop. We’re very lucky to have snagged him first.” She hesitated midbite. “Oh, my. I hope I didn’t share something I shouldn’t have. I just assumed—”
“No, no. You’re fine. Jace and I haven’t talked about charitable donations, but we chat about all kinds of other things. I promise, your secret’s safe with me.” Full scholarships? As in plural? How much money did nightclubs generate?
The Negative Nelly side of her conscience poked and prodded from the bowels of her jail cell.
Setting her napkin aside, Viv held out her hand. “I’m Vivienne Moore. I work with Jace and some of his colleagues on several promotional events.”
“Very nice to meet you, Vivienne.” She returned Viv’s shake with an unusually firm grip for a woman so petite, a pleasant surprise compared to what she usually encountered from Dallas’s elite. “My name’s Evelyn Frank. I’m in charge of donor relations and social events for our foundation.”
“Well, you’ve ce
rtainly outdone yourself with this event. It’s moving wonderfully.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” She waved her hand in a dismissive flip and dabbed her lips with her napkin. “Much as I’d love to claim this work as my own, I only do the hiring. Our event planner’s got a great imagination. Though, I wish her personal life had a few less bumps. But what she lacks in stability, she makes up for in creativity.”
“Creativity is half the battle in this business,” Viv said. “That and connections.”
Evelyn set her napkin aside and angled more toward Vivienne, hands folded politely in her lap. “So, tell me about your business. Do you do formal events, or more fun and flashy arrangements for the entertainment world?”
“Actually, the entertainment realm is new to me. For the last few years, I’ve been focused on professional engagements or charitable events like this one.”
“If you have a card, I’d be happy to pass it on to some of my contacts. Or maybe keep it for myself. One never knows when an event will develop an unexpected wrinkle.”
“Of course.” Viv dug in her handbag, grateful she’d caved to the shameless preparation beforehand. She handed several over. “I have references for all kinds of events you can contact as well. Just email me at the address listed.”
A cultured, masculine voice sounded behind Vivienne. “Excuse me, ladies.”
Viv twisted in her chair.
A familiar face she’d seen much of in the past few months on television beamed a megawatt smile at both of them. His hair was an unremarkable brown, but probably maintained by a hairstylist who charged more per cut than her car payment, and his skin tone was just a little too off to be anything other than bottled.
“So much lovely art to take in at this event and yet I haven’t spoken to one of the loveliest creatures in attendance.” He held out his hand and shined a picture-perfect, yet empty smile. On the outside he was the ideal image of what she’d always thought she needed in a man. Cultured, affluent, well-mannered and career-driven. And yet the last thing she wanted was to touch him.
Two years of schmoozing and politicking her way through uncomfortable social situations pushed Viv to her feet. “You’re very kind. I’m Vivienne Moore. And you are?”
She knew damned well who he was, but if she’d learned nothing else in her line of work, it was that people like this man enjoyed beating their chests a bit in the get-to-know-you phase.
Sure enough, his smile inched wider, and he smoothed the front of his tuxedo jacket. “My name is Paul Renner.”
Chapter 16
Jace paid the bartender and wound through the crowd, a Scotch for him and a Merlot for Viv in each hand. His tux jacket hung heavy on his shoulders, restricting his movement, and the ever-present weight of his bowtie gripped like a waiting noose. One more hour tops and he’d have Viv back at her place and be able to shuck them both.
Pain in the ass or not, the getup had been worth it. One look from Viv as he’d stood on the stoop and his confidence had soared high enough he could’ve given every last Marvel character a run for their money.
Sliding between two women caught up their latest gossip, he angled for Viv and nearly tripped.
Paul Renner stood at Jace’s five-thousand-dollar table with his hand on Jace’s woman. How the hell neither glass shattered between his fingers was a fucking miracle.
Jace stalked closer.
Viv laughed at something Paul said, her head tilted at an inquisitive angle and her body language utterly at ease. Nowhere near the skittish colt she seemed to be with Jace.
Logic told him to beat feet the other direction and leave her to the asshole with his upstanding citizen bullshit, but his instincts overrode the idea and throttled his temper, ready for confrontation.
Viv glanced up and caught his approach. Her smile burned a little too bright and polished, a classic client smile to charm and lure someone in. Was it for him, or the politicking bootlicker?
Didn’t matter. One way or another, he’d put some heat on her cheeks and make damned sure that son of a bitch kept his distance.
“Jace, you won’t believe who I’ve met.” Viv reached out for the wine Jace offered and motioned toward Paul. “Paul, this is Jace Kennedy, a contributor to the organization we’re all here for tonight.”
A contributor, not her date. An interesting way to put it. He clunked his Scotch on the table behind them and eased Viv away from Paul, her bare back pressed against his front and his fingers curled possessively at her waist. “Paul knows who I am.”
Vivienne stiffened against him, nothing Paul would see, but enough to show she caught the danger in his voice.
“Indeed, we’ve known each other since college.” Paul peered at Viv, his face pinched with barely concealed concern. “Well, I don’t want to mar your evening. It was good to meet you, Vivienne.” He flicked a none-too-subtle glance at Jace then refocused on her. “I hope you’ll have a safe evening. Perhaps we’ll meet again under more relaxed circumstances.”
That no good son of a bitch.
Sure as Paul had intended, Viv frowned and watched his retreat. “What’s he mean by that?”
“He means he wants to be a pain in my ass the same as he’s always been.” One of these days, he’d stop taking the high road and show that fucker just how dirty Jace could get. For now, he’d wait. Timing was everything.
“That sounds like an interesting story.”
Sharing was tempting. Waaay tempting. But a part of him didn’t want her swayed by history. She’d be much better off if she ferreted out the kind of man Paul was on her own.
Viv twisted to better see his face. “Jace?”
“Another time.” Christ, waiting for Viv to come around was killing him. He’d never bided his time with a woman as much as he had with Vivienne, and Paul sure as shit wouldn’t have been able to goad him with anyone else either.
Maybe diluting who he was with her was part of the problem. If she couldn’t take him the way he was, no amount of padding would ease the landing later. He turned her to face him, one arm looped around the small of her back. He palmed the back of her neck and inhaled the sexy perfume that had teased him all damned night, a scent that made him think of desert flowers and spice. “On a scale of one to ten, where do auctions rank for you?”
“Rank how?”
“Excitementwise. They do anything for you?”
God, that quirky thing she did with her mouth gave him all kinds of dirty thoughts. Like a naughty schoolgirl, hiding a smile. Although on Viv, it actually came across innocent. And didn’t that just make him want to teach her every debauched thing he knew. “Unless I’ve got money in the game, I would say I’d rank them at a two.”
Oh, yeah. Lots and lots of debauched things. He traced the exposed skin just above her ass. “Have you got your fill of the event planning underbelly?”
Her gaze drifted across the room, but he’d swear it was to buy time more than any real perusal. Not once did she lock on to a particular item, or form that studious frown she always got when she was picking apart details. By the time she met his stare, her cheeks were pink. “I think so.”
One small miracle down, a taste of heaven to go. He tugged the wineglass from her hand, set it on the table, and snatched her wrap from the back of her chair. Holding it wide, he settled it around her shoulders and stepped close enough her hair tickled his cheek. “Then I’m taking you home and finding at least ten different ways to make you scream my name.”
* * *
The Porsche’s steady purr filled the car’s otherwise silent interior, and the soft white streetlights above Highway 75 zoomed past. Viv dragged in another too-shallow breath. Three more miles and she’d have to make a decision. Clearly, her body was ready for an Olympic swan dive, but her mind couldn’t stop churning. Her belly and thighs clamped even tighter, straining to hold what she hoped was a relaxed exterior.
>
Jace downshifted and slid to the far right lane. If he felt a tenth of the tension radiating off her, he didn’t show it, his movements confident and effortless. He reached across the console and captured her wrist, stroking her pulse point with his thumb in a raspy glide she couldn’t help but imagine somewhere else. “Breathe, sugar.”
Her pulse leaped to an all new high, the feverish rhythm of his strokes making her light-headed and more than a little flushed. Guess that answered whether or not he was picking up on her jumpiness, though if he meant to calm her, touching her and talking in that sexy, low grumble was the wrong approach.
“I don’t know what this is, what’s going on with us.” The statement shot out before her better judgment could shut it down, but with it came relief, her attention zeroed in and craving his answer.
“What do you want it to be?”
“I don’t know, but it feels...” Huge. Limitless. Scary as hell. “Big.”
He chuckled and took the exit to her house. “In my book, big is worth the risk and the ride.” The headlights from a car behind them reflected off the rearview mirror and spotlighted his dark eyes as they slid to her. “But then I’m not a fan of regret.”
And there it was. The lure that tempted her to jump, no matter the cost. She’d felt something similar before she’d quit her desk job, but this was on an entirely different scale. Money and work she could recover from, but a gamble like Jace could rip open old wounds and leave a few new scars alongside them.
The two blocks to her house raced by, and Jace slipped the Porsche into the reserved spot outside her townhouse. The engine quieted with a subtle protest, and the soft leather seat groaned as Jace unwound himself from the driver’s seat. He shut the door behind him, and the muted chunk resonated firm as a gavel.
What did she want? If two days, or two weeks from now she looked back on tonight and didn’t take the risk, could she live with the regret?
Her door opened and cool air whooshed in along with it, caressing her fevered skin. She fisted her purse in her lap.
Rough & Tumble (The Haven Brotherhood) Page 14