She went for the truth, letting it sputter off her tongue. “My love life isn’t very exciting. I’m twenty-five, and as far as actual boyfriends go, there’s only been one significant relationship. And even he didn’t matter as much as he should have.”
Brandon moved closer to her. “You’re still young. You’ve got plenty of time to meet someone who matters. Now, me? I’ll be thirty-seven this year.”
“I’ll bet you’ve had lots of girlfriends.” She already knew that he did. His online profiles were filled with beautiful women.
He shrugged. “I’ve had my fair share, but not like Tommy. Women used to throw themselves at him. He’s married now, with a baby on the way. It’s the happiest he’s ever been.”
“That’s good.” She’d read about Tommy and his wife, Sophie, in the book. Matt’s relationship with his fiancée, Libby, was showcased, too. Libby was also the author of the book, the biographer Kirby had hired to tell his story. “I guess entertainment lawyers don’t have groupies, then?”
“No, I can’t say that we do.” He moved closer still. “But it’s an intriguing idea.”
Mary’s throat went tight. With the “intrigued” way he was looking at her, you’d think he was picturing her as his sweet little groupie. She could actually feel the air growing thick between them. And now her mixed-up mind was running rampant, and she was imagining what kind of lover he would be.
A powerful one, she thought, who would make her sigh and melt and moan—right at his feet.
Panic set in. “I should let you go.” She was overwhelmed by the hunger, the heat, the dizzying urge to share his bed. “You came here to walk Cline, and I’m taking up all of your time.” Before she blew it completely, she added, “Maybe I’ll run into you next Sunday.” She was supposed to be setting a honey trap, not darting off like a scared rabbit.
“Sure. I’d like that.” He spoke softly, fluidly, as smooth as the Tennessee whiskey he probably drank. “I’d like it very much.”
“Me, too.” Her heart pounded unmercifully inside her chest. She’d just caught a whiff of his summer-fresh cologne. Or maybe it was the scent of a finely milled soap lingering on his skin.
“I’ll be here, same place, same time.” He rattled his dog’s leash. “Same husky.”
“Okay.” She cursed her pounding heart. She’d captured his interest, doing what she’d set out to do. But for now, she needed to escape with her emotions intact. “Bye, Brandon.”
“Goodbye, Mary.”
She walked away, doing her best to stay calm. But even as she departed she sensed that he’d spun around to watch her, as aroused by her as she was by him.
* * *
As soon as Mary entered their apartment, her sister rushed to greet her. “What happened? Did you talk to him?”
“Yes.” And she was still trying to get a handle on the lust-tinged way he made her feel. She removed her sweater and draped it over a dining chair. “I was so nervous I don’t know how I got through it.”
“You have to tell me everything.” Alice grabbed her hand and dragged her toward the sofa.
They sat side by side. Thank goodness the sliding glass door to their itty-bitty patio was open. Mary needed the air.
“So?” Alice pressed.
“Can I have a minute? I need to catch my breath.”
“But I’ve been waiting here for hours.”
“All I’m asking for is a minute.”
“Whatever.” Alice rolled her heavily lined eyes. She went through phases, and currently she was on a cowpunk kick, where she’d patterned her style after a vintage trend derived from cowboy and punk rock influences. At the moment, she wore a skintight Western ensemble and gothic jewelry. Her bleached platinum hair was short and spiked. But no matter how outlandish she looked, her beauty remained evident. Mama had been gorgeous, too. Mary had always been plain by comparison. Yet she was the one who’d just had an encounter with Kirby’s devastatingly handsome son.
“Time’s up,” Alice said. She pointed to the clock on the cable TV box. “It’s been at least a minute.”
If Mary wasn’t so frazzled, she would have laughed. Her sister was one of the most impatient people she knew.
She started with saying, “He seemed to like me.” Just thinking about him was making her breathe harder and faster. “He’s even more striking up close. It was different than checking out his pictures or spying on him from a distance. Looking into his eyes was just so...real, I guess.”
“So he’s hotter than you anticipated? And he seemed to like you?” Alice waggled her brows suggestively. “You shouldn’t have any trouble getting him into bed.”
“I’m not...” Mary frowned, steeped in her own forbidden desires. “I already told you that even if he took an interest in me, sex was off the table. I couldn’t possibly—”
“You’re such a prude.” Alice shook her head. “But you’ll just have to hold his attention in other ways.” She leaned forward. “So tell me the rest of it.”
Mary expounded on the beginning of their conversation, before she’d started fantasizing about being his lover.
Alice listened and said, “I’ll bet you were really scared when he asked you if you knew who he was.”
“I was petrified.” So afraid he’d figured her out.
“It sounds like you handled it just fine. I knew you’d be a natural at presenting yourself as a nice girl.”
“It didn’t make me feel very nice.” For now, she just felt confused. “What if we have him pegged wrong? What if he isn’t responsible for what happened? He might not have even known that his dad was lying about our mom. If he filed the restraining order because he believed that Mama was a stalker, then he was just doing his job.”
Alice gaped at her. “You can’t be serious.”
She hated to think of Brandon as a bad person now that she’d met him. Or maybe she just hated to think of herself being attracted to someone so cold and calculating. “I’m just covering all of the bases.”
“Come on, Mar. Don’t make him out to be innocent in all of this. Attorneys are known for being shrewd.”
“I just want to be sure, that’s all.”
“I don’t have any doubts, and I guarantee when it’s over, you’ll be convinced that he’s as ruthless as his dad.”
“You’re probably right.” But now that the wheels were in motion, she needed to figure him out, to know for certain. “At least I’ll be seeing him next week.”
“You should bring him some pastries. You can bake something special just for him.” Alice waggled her eyebrows again. “A little sugar to tempt his palate.”
“He did say that he had a sweet tooth. But I’ll have to think about what to make.” She had no idea what his preferences would be. “I should bake some doggy biscuits for Cline, too.”
“Oh, that’s perfect. It’s exactly what a nice girl would do. Bring extra treats for that blue-eyed beast of his.”
Mary jumped to the husky’s defense. “Cline isn’t a beast. He seemed really gentle.”
“Maybe so, but that doesn’t make his master a good guy.” Alice frowned, her distain for Brandon obvious. “If he falls for you, I wonder if he’ll post pictures of you on his Instagram. Or maybe selfies of you and him and the dog.”
Mary didn’t want to think that far ahead. Yet she couldn’t help but recall how intensely both Brandon and Cline had stared at her. “In person their eyes are almost the same color.”
Alice squinted. “It’s too bad you’re not going to seduce him all the way. Sex would make the revenge that much sweeter.”
“Not for me.” She feared that sleeping with him would be dangerous to her soul. Not just because of the way he made her feel, but because of her charade, too. “That would be carrying it too far.”
“Okay, so you’ve got your morals. But it’s not as if you’re a virgin o
r anything.”
“That’s not the point.” Her sex life wasn’t the issue. Or her lack thereof, she thought. She’d slept with only one guy: the boyfriend who’d barely mattered. “Brandon isn’t my type, anyway.”
“I didn’t know you had a type.”
“Well, if I did, it wouldn’t be with a lawyer who might dominate me.”
Her sister looked stunned. “Oh, my God. Did he say something kinky to you?”
“What? No. I didn’t mean it like that.” She tried to explain, without admitting how deeply he aroused her. “He just seems as if he’d be as powerful in the bedroom as he is in the courtroom, or wherever he does his best work.”
“That’s quite an observation.” Alice leaned back on their floral-printed sofa—the one they’d bought during her boho phase—and lifted her booted feet onto the coffee table. “And seriously, who are you trying to kid? You totally want to shag him.”
“Can we change the subject, please?” Mary couldn’t bear to sit here and listen to this.
“Well, I’m all for it. As long as you make him suffer once it’s over.”
What part of changing the subject didn’t her sister understand? “I don’t want to keep talking about this.”
Alice readjusted her position, lowering her feet to the floor. “You brought up the domination stuff, not me.”
“And you’re making a bigger deal out of it than it is.”
“All right, but no matter how attracted to him you are, just remember that we’re doing this for Mama. So whatever you do, don’t fall for him for real.”
“I would never do that.” Mary knew better than to develop feelings for a man she didn’t even know if she could trust.
Two
On Friday night, Brandon rode in the back of a limo with his date by his side, wondering how many black-tie events he’d attended over the course of his life. Hundreds? Thousands? At the moment, it seemed like millions.
He was bored already, and they hadn’t even arrived at the hotel. He served on the committee that was hosting the party. He cared deeply about his charity work, but how many luxurious dinners and big, sweeping dances could he stand?
The real problem, he decided, was that he couldn’t get the redhead he’d met at the park out of his mind. Mary McKenzie. So wholesome, so cute, so all-American and average. He doubted that she’d ever worn a glittering gown or been to a fancy ball.
“Are you all right?” Doreen asked. She was one of his occasional lovers—a long, leggy brunette and twice-divorced heiress who relied on a carb-free diet to maintain her figure and Botox to keep her frown lines at bay. Tonight she was wearing a set of spidery lashes. Brandon had gotten used to seeing her in them, but he’d never quite grasped the point. He couldn’t imagine gluing something onto his eyelids.
“I’m fine,” he said.
“You seem distracted to me.”
“I’m just sitting here.” And thinking about seeing Mary again—a fresh-faced twenty-five-year-old who worked at a bakery. She was so damned different from his norm. He frowned at Doreen. “Do you ever get tired of the same ol’?”
She gave him a pointed look. “See, I knew something was going on with you.”
“Maybe I’m just going through a midlife crisis and wanting things I shouldn’t have.” That might account for him obsessing about a woman he barely knew.
She turned on the light above their heads. “Did you meet someone who’s got your boxers in a bunch?”
He flinched as if he’d been kicked. “What?”
She raised her delicately arched eyebrows. “You did, didn’t you?”
His stomach clenched. He’d just gotten called out by a savvy socialite. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, believe me, I do. A woman knows when a man has another female on his mind.”
“There’s no one.” He wasn’t about to admit that he couldn’t wait to return to the park on Sunday and reunite with a stranger who made his skin hot. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone made him feel that way. He’d been on autopilot for so long, he hadn’t noticed until now.
Doreen sighed. “It doesn’t matter to me if you want someone else. Because I do, too.”
He turned suspicious. Was she making up stories to try to con the truth out of him? “If you’re mooning over another man, then why are you here with me?”
She removed a gilded compact from her clutch. “You and I made these plans a long time ago. And since we haven’t been together for months, I figured we were just here as friends.”
That was a fair assumption, he supposed. It wasn’t just her that he hadn’t been with in a while. He hadn’t slept with anyone in what seemed like forever. And he didn’t want to, either, until Mary had come along.
Doreen opened the mirror and checked her appearance. “The man I’m hoping to nab is going to be at this party, so I thought—”
“You’d use me to get his attention?” If Brandon gave a crap, he would be mad. But he didn’t care if she was after another guy. It didn’t matter. “Who is he?”
“David Norton.”
“The retail billionaire?” He should have known she would aim high. “Wasn’t he just named as one of the richest people in the States? He came in at number twelve, as I recall.”
She made a duck face, posing as if the compact was a camera. “He was number nine, actually, but who’s counting?”
“You are, obviously.”
She closed the mirror and tucked it back into her clutch. “I don’t need his money. I have plenty of my own.”
That was true. Between her inheritance and her ex-husbands, she was set for life. “Yeah, okay, but isn’t he a little old for you?” David Norton was a good person, a charitable man, but he was also pushing seventy. Doreen was all of forty.
“He appreciates women my age. And in our social circle, that’s saying a lot. Do you know how many twentysomethings have stolen my lovers away from me? I’ll bet the gal who caught your eye is a sweet young thing.”
Maybe too sweet, he thought. Tigresses like Doreen were more his style.
She snared his gaze. “Is your new love interest going to be at this soiree?”
“She isn’t—” He stopped and cursed. He’d just more or less admitted that there was another woman on his mind.
“She isn’t what?” Doreen pressured him to come clean.
He went ahead and said it. “She isn’t part of this crowd.”
“Oh, my.” Placing a dramatic hand against the jeweled bodice of her gown, she gave a ladylike gasp. “You’re stepping outside of your regal realm? That spells trouble to me.”
He hated it when she mocked him. Sometimes she even called him the King of Nashville High Society. “Knock it off.”
“I’m serious, Brandon. Those types of hookups don’t work.”
“I never said I was getting together with her.” Sure, he wanted to, but the only thing they’d agreed on was another run-in at the park. Nonetheless, Mary had seemed leery of him. He could tell that he’d made her nervous. “I don’t want to talk about her, anyway.” He preferred to keep his distorted hunger to himself. “Let’s just get this night over with so you can land a date with David.”
Doreen’s pouty pink lips tilted into a smile. “You’re going to help me with that?”
“Sure. Why not?” He turned off the overhead light that she’d left on. For now, the only thing he wanted was for Sunday morning to roll around so he could see Mary again.
* * *
Mary parked her car on a side street and walked to the park, wishing she didn’t have to figure Brandon out. It would be easier if she was convinced, the way Alice was, that he was a bad person. But for now, she wasn’t sure of anything.
She adjusted the insulated tote bag on her arm. She’d baked a variety of pastries. She’d also brought a therm
os of medium roast coffee, and cups and plates and everything else they would need. She was good at packing picnics. Or whatever this makeshift breakfast was going to be.
As she cut across the grass, she searched for Brandon. When she spotted him, her heart jumped to her throat. She continued toward him. By now, he’d seen her, as well, and was heading in her direction with the dog by his side. It was warmer this morning than it had been last week. In keeping with the weather, he was wearing khaki shorts and a pale green T-shirt. But no matter how casually he was dressed, he looked as if he’d just stepped out of the pages of a men’s fashion magazine. He’d obviously gotten his sense of style from his mother. His father always looked like an outlaw, draped in shades of black.
As they got closer, Brandon smiled at her with a quick flash of those perfect white teeth. A shadowy chill ran through her, as if she was about to be bitten by a tall, tanned, play-in-the-daylight vampire. A man with no soul? Or just a man with too much sex appeal? Either way, she sucked it up—no pun intended—and returned his smile.
“Hey, Mary,” he said, as they stood face-to-face.
“Hi.” She adjusted the bag on her arm. “I didn’t bring a book today. I brought goodies for you and Cline instead.”
Brandon seemed surprised. Apparently the possibility of her baking for him hadn’t crossed his mind.
“What kind of goodies?” he asked.
“For you, I made raspberry-and-ginger muffins, chocolate-and-cinnamon scones and crisp apple fritters. For Cline, I whipped up a batch of peanut butter, bacon and pumpkin treats.”
“That’s so sweet of you.” He moistened his lips. “Can we try them now?”
“Definitely.” She hesitated. “I brought coffee, too, just in case.” He’d mentioned on social media that he was a coffee drinker, but she was pretending to be unsure. She was also trying not to fixate on his mouth.
He gestured to a nearby picnic bench. “Shall we?”
She nodded and warned herself to get a grip. Fixating on his mouth wasn’t part of today’s game plan.
They sat across from each other, and she was grateful for the tabletop between them. Although Brandon dropped Cline’s leash, the loyal husky didn’t leave his master’s side.
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