“Anything else?” the waiter asked.
“No thank you,” Mallory said in her polite but husky voice.
Jack shook his head, then unsealed the note. Invitation to Seduction—a private evening of dinner, dancing and gratification of the senses. Eight o’clock. Beach cabin number 10. He tried to swallow and choked instead. There were further instructions, seductive allusions about what he could expect should he dare to RSVP.
He flipped the page over and read the back print. Come on time. And come hungry. His eyes teared and he grabbed for the drink that hadn’t appealed to him minutes earlier. Instead of easing his distress, the alcohol burned its way down his throat, and he coughed harder.
Mallory stood and gestured for the waiter. “Water, please,” Jack heard her request. “Are you okay?” she asked.
He swallowed again and breathing came easier. “Fine. Just…swallowed wrong.”
“Oh.” She lowered herself into her seat. “You scared me for a second. I thought I was going to have to do mouth-to-mouth.”
He stared at her, sure he hadn’t heard correctly.
“Resuscitation,” she said quickly. “Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation because I thought you’d stopped breathing or something.” She waved her hand in the air. “Never mind. As long as you’re okay now.”
“I’m fine.” He glanced at the note that now lay in his lap. As fine as he could be with an erotic invitation to seduction nestled in his groin and his repressed associate staring at him wide-eyed from across the table.
Who the hell could have sent it? He glanced around but the sea of women in bathing suits gave him no clue. Jack broke into a sweat that had nothing to do with the sun’s burning rays.
“Is it from Lederman?” Mallory asked.
He sure as hell hoped not. “It’s personal.”
She shrugged. “Okay so do you plan to ask him straight out what’s going on?”
He stared over her shoulder, scrutinizing each woman who passed. None gave any indication that they’d sent the note, but someone had propositioned him and damn if it didn’t sound exciting. Tantalizing. Intriguing.
Hell, he’d be a fool not to show up at eight. And he’d be an even bigger fool to walk into some unknown woman’s fantasy.
“Jack? Jack. I asked if you plan to confront Paul Lederman.” Mallory asked, obviously confused by his inability to concentrate. She stared at him openly behind those damn black-rimmed glasses.
He had the absurd urge to confide in her and that in itself told him what a bizarre frame of mind he’d been in since starting this trip. Now this. He lifted the note and held it to his nose.
Floral? Oriental? He couldn’t place the scent, though he had the sense he’d smelled it before. In his dreams, Jack thought.
“Maybe we ought to do this some other time. You’re obviously distracted.” Mallory rose from her seat.
“Wait.”
“Why? Nothing I do or say seems to hold your interest. Why don’t you take care of personal matters and we can meet up again later.”
He let out a long groan. “Have a seat, Mallory. You asked if I plan on confronting Lederman. The answer is no. This is how the man operates. He likes to build trust slowly. That’s why we’re here, for him to assess us, to build trust. The firm still handles most of his business, but this…this is personal. When he’s ready, he’ll confide.”
“And in the meantime?” She tapped her foot against the white concrete.
“We wait. Enjoy the beach. The view.” Come on time. And come hungry. “The food,” he muttered.
“Excuse me?”
He shook his head. She was right. No way in hell could he concentrate on business now—whoever sent this invitation could be watching him. Assessing him. Appraising him. His body shook in reaction.
Mallory grabbed for her pad. “Maybe you’re coming down with something. You’ve got the chills.”
More like he was burning with anticipation. “You’re right. Let’s meet up again later.”
She nodded. “Get some rest first. How does eight tonight sound?”
He sucked in a breath of ocean air and forced a grin. “I thought I told you to consider this a semi-vacation. Take the night off and we’ll talk in the morning.”
“Suit yourself.” She turned and walked away.
He followed the sleek way she moved and the sway of her legs in her sensible sandals. Wasted potential, Jack thought, and it was a pity.
But he couldn’t think about Mallory now. He waved the note in the air, savoring the lingering scent and the arousing effect the perfume had on his senses. All of his senses, and no doubt that was the intention.
Whoever had sent the invitation meant to stimulate and arouse. Well she’d done a damn good job. So good he couldn’t get up from this table yet, and probably not for a long while. At least he’d have time to think about whether or not he’d show up as requested.
Who was he kidding? Jack knew damn well he’d be there. Whoever had gone to the trouble of seeking him out deserved to at least have him respond. In person. And his tingling flesh and burgeoning erection left no doubt he wanted to make an appearance as well.
TWILIGHT ENVELOPED the beach as night settled in. With burning anticipation, Jack watched the digital clock in his hotel room inch closer to the hour. He had to hand it to the anonymous sender of that note, she’d managed to set the stage for a seduction and keep him aroused the entire afternoon.
A soft breeze swept in through his open terrace door, traveling off the ocean. And his body throbbed in time to the lapping sound of the waves hitting the shore. His heart pounded frantically inside his chest. Desire flowed fast and furious.
Yet he had no idea who he was about to meet.
Did anonymity heighten the sense of anticipation? The excitement? Mystery was a potent aphrodisiac, that much was certain. The need to know, the desire to act out the fantasy, had him ignoring his self-imposed rules against one-night stands. Whether he’d regret making an appearance later, he didn’t know. But right now, nothing could keep him from inhaling that intoxicating scent in person. Nothing could prevent him from arriving on time. And as he locked the hotel door behind him and made his way outside and into the dark night, the frenzied fire, already ignited, burst into a potent, powerful flame.
The resort boasted ten secluded cabins, dotted along the beach. Thanks to the map in his hotel room, Cabin 10 wasn’t hard to find, even well-hidden beneath lush foliage. But keeping his cool was difficult and by the time he arrived, he’d actually broken into a sweat.
Jack Latham, the self-proclaimed playboy, the man who thrived on challenges and the women who provided them, was jittery and impatient. And also self-conscious, he admitted as he recalled the instructions he’d committed to memory after one reading.
Following those detailed instructions, he closed his eyes, raised his hand and knocked on the cabin door. In the darkness, sounds became magnified and his knuckles rasping against the door pounded inside him as well. Crickets chirped around him and the breeze rustled the neighboring branches. Seconds passed and then he heard creaking hinges as the door opened.
His stomach churned in anticipation and the urge to look was overwhelming. But the instructions had been clear. If he wanted his desires granted, he had to follow the rules and so he kept his eyes shut tight.
Without warning, a soft hand grabbed his wrist. His breath caught in his throat and his mouth grew dry. He found himself locked in a warm and gentle, yet firm and determined, grip. Not a word was spoken but an insistent pull propelled him ahead, probably inside the cabin.
Jack stepped forward, eyes still closed, pulse still hammering out a rapid beat. He crossed a wide expanse of space until a jerk on his wrist stopped him. The warmth of feminine body heat grew closer. He wasn’t sure how he sensed it, but somehow Jack knew she stood before him. And then he inhaled, taking in the fragrant scent that had been with him all afternoon. Stirring his senses. Teasing his restraint.
Her hands settled on
his shoulders and pushed him downward until he was sitting, enveloped by luxurious cushions and what he thought was soft velvet.
“I have to look at you,” he murmured.
He sensed the shake of her head, felt the press of delicate fingertips against his eyelids. Not yet. The unspoken words hovered between them.
“You followed the instructions, so now you get your wish. You wanted to see the woman beneath the frigid facade.” The words were whisper-soft. Featherlight.
But the husky voice was glaringly familiar—and arousing, as it had been from the first. Still, shock propelled his eyelids open.
He expected to see Mallory Sinclair, Esq. Instead he faced a seductress with curves he’d never dreamed Mallory possessed. Glorious waves of black hair flowed over her shoulders. Perfectly applied makeup accented features he had thought only had potential.
He’d been wrong.
Perfection couldn’t be improved upon and if he hadn’t been so caught up in what could be, he would have seen this Mallory all along. Mallory Sinclair, the sultry beauty.
The woman who’d sent him the invitation and who had an evening of seduction in store.
4
“WHAT’S THE MATTER, JACK? Cat got your tongue?” Mallory leaned so close he couldn’t draw a breath let alone utter a word in response.
Her fingernails, painted a hot coral shade, trailed a path from his jaw to the top button on his polo shirt. Her skin was as soft and alluring as her touch and he shivered at the brazen assault.
“Or maybe your collar’s just too tight for you to breathe and speak at the same time,” she murmured. With nimble fingers, she released the top button.
He would have inhaled easier if not for her warm breath on his cheek, the pout of her luscious lips also in a glossy coral and the intoxicating scent surrounding him. All worked together to arouse. He’d known going in that seduction was the stranger’s intent. He hadn’t known he’d be facing his so-called repressed colleague and in that respect, Mallory had caught him off guard.
And Jack didn’t like surprises. In court he never asked a question he didn’t know the answer to be forehand. Too many attorneys had been tripped up by assumptions. Too many men had been scammed into thinking they knew the woman they were involved with. Jack wouldn’t let himself be tripped up or scammed, especially by a woman.
He made his own rules then lived by them. But he’d broken one of those rules when he’d responded to the invitation so he had no one but himself to blame if he found himself at a disadvantage now.
“Maybe you just took me by surprise.” He met her gaze, stunned into silence once more by the shocking blue of her eyes, surrounded by incredible waves of black hair.
She nodded. “The frigid facade.”
He heard the ice in her tone along with the trace of hurt she couldn’t hide, but no way would he ever associate this woman with the word frigid ever again.
“I insulted you.”
She inclined her head. Assent or was she assessing him? Before he could decide or even wince at his earlier, poorly chosen phrasing, she spoke.
“Yes, you insulted me. Yet I have to admit that was an interesting description of a woman you barely know.” Her words implied she intended to correct not only his erroneous assumption but also the status of their relationship.
Her next move proved him right. She settled herself into the seat cushion beside him, so close he forgot to breathe until he forced himself to focus on his surroundings and not his sexy hostess. With his eyes shut earlier, he’d curled his hands around cushioned softness and he realized now his guess had been right—the sofa was crushed velvet, a taupe and white mix of color that complimented the rest of the interior design. Comfortable for both male and female guests.
She curled her legs Indian-style. His gaze was drawn downward to the soft, shimmery material of her skirt, yellow silk beneath a sheath of sheer organza, then to the delicate wisp of a sandal covering her feet. Coral accented her toenails, just as it did her lips and fingernails.
She played with the skirt until it fell provocatively between her legs, covering yet revealing at the same time. She was toying with him. He knew it and so did she, yet he enjoyed the teasing too much to call her on it.
There were no traces left of the staid, uptight, repressed colleague he’d flown with. “I take it I’m here so you can prove my assumption about you was wrong.”
As he spoke, he let his gaze travel upward again. Though the skirt was full, it revealed a narrow waist and he had a sudden desire to lift the flowing material and take a look at those legs he’d noticed this afternoon.
“Dichotomy is interesting, isn’t it?” she asked.
Tempt. Torment. Tease. Obviously she wasn’t going to answer him directly. He met her gaze, and realized she’d caught him staring. He wouldn’t apologize. For one thing he wasn’t sorry. And for another, her cheeks flushed a rosy pink beneath the artificial color, telling him he affected her, too.
Jack refused to give up what little power he possessed in this game she’d set up. “Everyone and everything in life has two faces, two sides. Not all of them pleasant.”
He’d learned early on that his loving mother, his father’s devoted wife in public, was a cold, uncaring, cheating female in private. As time marched on, she didn’t care who knew the truth and the dichotomy she’d presented merged into a singular unhappy woman. Since then, Jack had become an expert on the two faces of human nature.
Mallory’s eyes narrowed, as if she realized his words revealed a part of his soul. He silently cursed. How could he forget this seductive female had a brain like a steel trap and the instincts of a killer shark? That dichotomy she’d mentioned. The one he’d always looked for in others. Why did he find it so easy to forget Mallory possessed another colder, more calculating side?
Which Mallory was real, which was the impostor?
“So you’re already attuned to the subtleties of human nature. That’s good since it makes my job that much easier.” She smiled, a sexy smile meant to disarm and make him wonder what she planned next.
He could only wait and see. Despite the danger—to the private emotions she effortlessly tapped into and to the career he’d built and had no business risking for a fling with a colleague—the anticipation stoked a fire of burning need deep inside him. One he didn’t fully understand.
Obviously he’d sensed there was more to his repressed colleague than met the eye or he wouldn’t have had those occasional bouts of arousal—when he’d heard her husky voice, or inhaled her luscious scent on the plane. The same scent, he now realized, he smelled on the invitation this afternoon. His mind hadn’t been ready then to grasp the possibilities. He was ready now. More than ready if the blood pumping through his veins was any indication. She was playing a game and he intended to draw out the intensity and the pleasure.
He had no doubt she’d back off first. The no-office-romance policy would weigh more heavily on her mind since she had a partnership at stake and knew his vote could destroy her chances and all she’d worked for. Not that he’d ever jeopardize her career over this invitation to seduction. He had too much respect for her as a lawyer and too much admiration for the woman who’d lured him here to teach him a well-deserved lesson.
But he could enjoy the steps along the way. “I obviously spoke out of turn this morning by using the word frigid. But the word facade—now that was right on target.”
A wide smile touched her face and radiance glowed from the porcelain skin on her cheeks. “You’re a smart man, Jack. Façade. Defined it means a false, superficial or artificial appearance or effect.”
“And that’s what this is?” His hand swept the air around her before he laid his arm back on the couch. Mere inches from the silken bare flesh revealed by the matching camisole she wore.
Though her daily suits did little to reveal womanly curves, Jack saw plenty now. She had full breasts, fuller than he’d imagined and creamy white skin peeked through the deep vee of her top.
/> “You’re wondering which is the real Mallory?” Her sultry laugh lit the night air. “That’s for you to find out.”
She teased him with what-if’s and myriad other sensual possibilities.
“Are you ready to eat?” she asked.
The question led to thoughts of decadent delights, feasting on her glistening lips and tasting her hidden feminine secrets. But he doubted that was what she had in mind.
At least not yet. A wicked voice in his head taunted him, just as her nearness teased him. He wanted to close the distance, to sweep his hand over the expanse of skin on her neck and shoulders, to bring her close enough for him to devour with his mouth.
“I’m hungry,” he replied. And if she looked down, she’d see exactly how ravenous he was. He tried to swallow but his throat had grown dry. “But how about a drink first.”
She rose from the couch with fluid grace and walked over to the minibar. “Vodka on the rocks, yes?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You remember?”
Mallory nodded. “I pay attention.” To everything about you, she thought.
She drank in his charcoal-gray eyes, lit by anticipation and awareness. She took notice of his jet-black hair, combed and sexy despite—or was it because of its perfection? Her gaze dipped lower. The intriguing bit of chest hair visible from his now open collar was seared into her memory.
Jack Latham was a potent masculine package. And that was the problem. Her mental obsession with him and what he thought of her had brought her to a dangerous precipice. He’d challenged her femininity and she’d responded, putting her career and her future on the line. She could not believe she’d taken her humiliation over his insulting comment this far. But now that she had, Mallory had no choice but to follow through with her plan to show Jack the woman behind the facade.
“I pay attention, too. Your reputation for thoroughness and your expertise is unrivaled among the firm’s associates.”
Erotic Invitation Page 4