by Kris Jayne
"Look at that rain. The traffic is going to be a nightmare getting out of here," Taryn noted, as she popped a piece of calamari in her mouth and hit send on an email to a vendor.
"Then I guess we'll have to stay for dinner and drinks. See if we can't outlast the rain," Micky replied. It was nearly 6:00 p.m., and the bar area of the restaurant started to fill with happy hour revelers.
"We should order dinner to justify holding down a four-top table," Taryn declared. The pair had spread out over a corner table and taken advantage of the free wireless Internet for the past three hours.
"Okay. Can you review the copy for the event brochure? I sent it to you. We need to get that back to them tonight. Then, I'm ready for my martini."
Taryn turned her attention back to her laptop while Micky got dinner menus from their waiter. She had settled on a burger and a salad when the waiter returned with a tray of drinks.
"Those aren't ours. We haven't ordered yet," Micky told the thin, stylish waiter.
"You didn't order, but that gentleman over there in the bar sent these over. This one," he said, setting down a martini, "is for you. And the champagne is for your friend. He said to send his apologies if you don't like champagne, but he figured it was a good guess."
"It is. I do love champagne," Taryn said, sipping on the flute and twisting around to surveil the bar.
Micky scanned the area and quickly found a pair of piercing green eyes. Nick lifted his tumbler in cheers, and Micky felt compelled to lift her glass back at him. Anything else would be terribly rude.
"Mmm. He has excellent taste," Taryn noted. "We should thank him."
"You'll get your chance. He's coming over."
He had his jacket and tie off and the sleeves of his French blue dress shirt rolled to his elbows. Nick glided toward them, looking easy and relaxed, drink in hand. Micky trailed her eyes down his broad chest, narrow hips, and long, striding legs, then back up again. Her face got hot.
He must have seen her examining every inch of him. When she reached his face, he was smiling at her. Feathered crinkles framed his grass-green eyes. Then, he winked at her, which would normally make her roll her eyes, but instead, she felt her blush deepen, and warmth spread through her body.
"Thank you for the drinks," Micky said. "Do you remember Taryn?"
"I do. Good to see you again. Your fiancé called me the other day about selling part of his business."
"Oh, he did? I'm glad. Good to see you again as well."
"You're here by yourself?" Micky inquired, glancing behind him.
"Not exactly. I'm here with Sam, another associate from my law firm, but he's found himself a nice young lady to talk to at the bar. I don't think he's missing me."
He gestured toward a shorter, stockier man with thick brown hair slicked back and gelled nearly to the point of cracking. Sam had found a buxom redhead in a short, body-conscious dress. He spoke with animation about something that had her laughing hysterically.
"If Sam's abandoned you, you're welcome to join us," Taryn said, surprising Micky. Her friend closed her computer and moved her work to the side, clearing the table in front of the free chair next to her. Nick took immediate advantage of the invitation and sat down.
"Thanks. Micky tells me you are in the middle of planning your wedding. Congratulations."
"Thank you. It's nerve-wracking, but we're getting everything done. Event planning is what I do for a living, so I at least have the advantage of knowing how to navigate all the different vendors and everything. It's amazing how much more expensive everything is just because it's a wedding."
"It's a racket," Micky proclaimed.
Nick laughed. "I suppose it is."
"I'm sorry. Micky mentioned that you had just called off your engagement. You probably don't want to talk about weddings. Bless your heart."
Micky nearly choked on her martini. Leave it to Taryn to be incredibly blunt, but somehow soften the blow with her southern sweetness.
"It's fine. We're still friends. It just didn't work out," Nick replied. He paused, and Micky could tell there was more he wanted to say, but instead he took another swig of his scotch.
"Still friends?" Taryn asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I suppose that's possible," Micky said.
"You aren't friends with your exes?" Nick asked.
Micky pursed her lips. "Not the most recent one."
"It sounds like there's a story there," Nick noted.
"Not really. Like you said, it just didn't work out."
Taryn coughed and changed the subject. "I want to thank you for talking with Jeff. He said it looks like your firm might be willing to help him and his partner."
"Yes. No problem. Thank you for recommending me. My supervising partner was enthusiastic about adding another tech firm to our roster. We're still ironing out the details, but things are looking positive that Jeff and I will be working together."
Taryn smiled. "Having legal help will take a lot off his plate. Now are you ready to order, Micky? I need some dinner."
"I should let you two get back to your business," Nick said, pushing back his chair.
"You don't have to rush off if you don't want to. Have you eaten anything?" Micky asked.
"No. I'd love to join you if that's okay."
Micky looked at him and gave him a welcoming smile.
Chapter Eighteen
Sitting down with the women for dinner was much less awkward than Nick had anticipated when he'd gotten their work location out of Brittany, the perky receptionist. First, he tried calling Micky's cell phone and didn't get an answer, so he called Azur's offices.
"I'll be so excited when the final PowerPoint slide has rolled, and we wrap this thing up," Taryn said. "Then, we'll have a few days to relax in the most beautiful city in the world."
"I can't tell you how many times I've thought this event might be the death of us," Micky confessed.
"Why's that?" Nick asked.
Micky and Taryn exchanged glances. Without even thinking, he examined the papers still out on the table in front of Micky. Most of it made no sense to him. He looked back at Micky. Her laptop angled toward him enough for him to catch a glimpse of the screen. He couldn't make out most of the words, but he saw the document heading in bold type at the top. It read, "Midsummer announcement." Everything he and his contacts at Moran Financial had heard suggested Azur was in the early stages of negotiation with someone. Now, Nick wondered if they hadn't already found a dance partner.
"The company typically waits until this event each year to make a big market splash. The attendees have a lot of expectations," Micky explained.
"Are you making a big splash this year?" Nick asked with a smile.
"That's top secret," Taryn responded. "We could tell you, but of course, you know the rest."
"And I have no idea of the best spot to dump a body in the Trinity," Micky added.
Nick smiled while noting their deflection. He'd heard of Midsummer. He knew they were in somewhat the same business as Azur. He grabbed his phone and navigated to the camera setting. Positioning it carefully, he zoomed in and captured a snapshot of Micky's screen.
His mind raced away with this new piece of data, leaving his heart and his conscience to catch up. Micky laughed, easy and relaxed, and took another sip of the drink he'd bought her. If his maneuvering came back to bite her, he'd never forgive himself. Nick shoved away his doubts. He could make sure that didn't happen. He didn't have to share the information. He'd only use it for research.
At least his prying could be over now. He had enough to juice Moran Financial. He wouldn't have to see Micky again. In fact, he shouldn't see her again after Saturday.
Nick found the thought impossible. Why couldn't he keep seeing her? Once this business with Azur was over and done with, they could continue what they'd started. He finally allowed himself to envision it.
"Sounds like you two are getting pretty busy. By the time you get done, you'll have earned some relaxation t
ime," he noted.
"That's true enough. Plus, I love visiting new places. Being in a different environment can change your view on your entire life. Get away. See new things. Eat new food. Hear new languages. I'm looking forward to it even if it's only a few days. What about you? Any time off planned?"
Nick paused. He had structured his work so that by early summer he'd be able to take time for the wedding and a honeymoon. Now that the engagement was off, he figured he'd just work through. He never took much vacation and often found himself with vacation days left over at the end of every year that kept rolling over as he pursued his partnership. He probably had five or six weeks of unused time banked.
Hearing them talk about time away made him reconsider. He'd love to show Micky around Paris or to explore some new place together. He could see her on the beach, in a bikini, drinking fruity, girly beach cocktails. Nick looked at Micky's martini. Okay, so no girly drinks.
Nick snickered softly. "I don't usually take much vacation, but you're making the case for time off sound pretty good. I used to travel and love it."
"What's your favorite place you've been?" Micky asked.
"France is wonderful, but Italy is probably my favorite." Micky flinched. "Not a fan?"
"I've never been actually, but I've always wanted to go."
"You should. If you play your cards right, I might even volunteer as your tour guide. We can run off together." Micky's smile lost some of its ease. He kicked himself mentally for once again coming on too strong. He looked at Taryn for help, but she avoided eye contact and drained her champagne.
"Maybe so. I haven't had much luck in the running away together department, but there's always a chance for change, right?"
"Uh oh. Whatever whoever did to you, he was a pig," Nick said.
"I'd drink to that, but my glass is empty," Taryn observed, raising it from the table.
"Another?" Nick asked.
"No. I need to get out of here. I'm supposed to call Jeff tonight about some wedding stuff. It was nice seeing you again," she said before throwing some cash on the table for her part of the tab. Nick opened his mouth to object, but Micky had already snatched it up.
"See you tomorrow bright and early. We have a meeting at six thirty. The time difference is getting to be a pain," Micky said.
"I know. See you. Bye, Nick." Taryn headed out, leaving Nick and Micky alone.
"I'm glad I stopped over here. I wasn't sure you two would want an interloper."
"Your interloping was fine. And you got to have dinner with two hot chicks. How often does that happen?"
"Not often enough," he said before quickly adding, "Kidding. I like dating one woman at a time."
"I remember. Women bring drama."
Nick closed his eyes and dropped his head back. "I never should have said that."
"It's okay. I was being a little prickly that night. That's a good lesson to have learned."
"That's a good lesson to have learned," Micky repeated. "We should get the check. Honestly, I need to head out too."
Nick gestured to the waiter who quickly walked by and dropped off the check. He picked up the faux-leather billfold.
"You're not mad?" Nick asked.
Micky smirked. "Not if you're picking up the check."
"Women. Always wanting me for my money."
"I've never wanted a man for his money a day in my life. Besides, I can only imagine what you want from me."
Nick stilled. No, she couldn't. He couldn't even decide what he wanted from her. Micky's brows came together as he sat silent, his conscience dogging him again.
"Seriously, though, I can't let you pay for all that we ate and drank all afternoon. That would just be embarrassing," she said, reaching for the check.
"Of course, you can."
"Fine. I had to try at least—even if I'm reaching for the check with T-Rex arms."
"T-Rex arms?"
Nick watched as Micky held her elbows close to her body while flailing her hands ineffectually toward the bill. Then, she threw her head back and laughed. Her hazel eyes sparkled, and with her head tipped back, he got a nice view of the sweep of her neck. He followed it down to the swell of her breasts straining against the buttons of her blouse. Even in her relatively prim shirt for the office, he could tell there was a dynamite body underneath.
The loosened-up version of the woman he first met her made his heart pound. He thought about what her full cleavage would look like with just one more button undone. He didn't want to push his luck, but the tightening of his body wreaked havoc on his concentration. He paid the check and then walked Micky to her car.
The rain had stopped, and everything glistened under the streetlights.
"Well, thank you for the late lunch, and dinner, and drinks," Micky said as she pressed the button on her keyless remote.
"You're very welcome. Any thoughts on going to that basketball game?"
"I'm in. You'll have to help me out, though. I'm a sadly stereotypical female when it comes to sports. I know nothing about basketball, or what's going on with the team, except that the Mavericks won a championship a few years ago, and their billionaire owner is all over the press. But I've been to some games. It's always a good time."
"It will be. I'll call you to iron out the details, but maybe I can pick you up around six, and we can head downtown."
"Great."
Nick grinned.
They reached for her car door at the same, and their hands touched.
Micky pulled back to let Nick open the door for her. She turned to look up at him before getting in. The roller coaster of feeling inside her looped again. Her mouth went dry, and she licked her lips, catching the fullness of her bottom lip slightly between her teeth.
Staring into his eyes, she wondered if he was going to make a move. Up close, they shined, reflecting the streetlights and telling her to "go." She grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him toward her until their mouths met.
In an instant, she felt a vibration through her entire body like a shock. At first, her lips just grazed his, but then he pushed for more, lingering and then gently probing her mouth with his tongue. His arms pulled her around the waist as she wrapped hers around his neck. Her nipples hardened with the warmth and growing insistence of his kiss. Then, he pressed her back against the side of her car.
The weight of his body felt like home. The urge to wrap herself around him overwhelmed her, and her left leg opened slightly and began coiling around him almost with a will of its own.
"Get a room!" Someone yelled in the parking lot, and then the fading sound of laughter hit Micky's ears. It was a split second, but it broke the spell.
"He's right," Micky said and pulled away. "Not about getting a room! Way too soon for that! Just, uh, we probably shouldn't be making out in the parking lot."
"I suppose you're right." Nick took both her hands in his and pulled her closer again. "Not that getting a room doesn't also sound like fun. Ahh, if those were my choices…" He trailed off, and he squeezed her again.
"I barely know you. You're a mystery to me." Micky replied. Her leg trembled. She pushed away from him, stabilizing herself against the car.
"We'll just have remedy that won't we," Nick told her before planting one brief kiss on her cheek. "Good night, gorgeous."
"Good night." He turned with a wave and walked toward his car. Micky stayed leaning back on her car for a few seconds, gathering her breath. Damn. She was in trouble.
Chapter Nineteen
Damn. He was in trouble.
Walking back to his car, the stiffness in his pants showed no signs of easing up even though he no longer had Micky in his arms. Kissing her should have been out of the question. Now that he'd tasted her, though, he couldn't fathom any "shoulds."
He remembered the softness of her lips, the fullness of those round breasts pressed on his chest, and the urgency that rose in him when she started curling her legs around him. He'd never wanted to get a woman naked more than he had Micky at
that moment.
If those kids hadn't yelled out, he might have had a chance. He'd have pulled down her business trousers, discovered what kind of beautiful panties she wore, and then ripped them off and fucked her in the damp night air.
An hour later, he fell into bed. He didn't feel much better—even after dispatching some of the tension in a hot shower, then turning the water full blast to cold. He wanted her. She'd said she barely knew him. True. She said it was too soon to get it on. Maybe. He wanted to know her. Micky made him feel more interested and more alive than he had in a long time.
She was right. They needed to get to know each other, but her knowing more about him and what he'd been up to would throw a bucket of ice on his chances. Wouldn't it? Nick thought of coming clean, but rejected the idea immediately. Getting aroused by a beautiful woman was not special, even if his heart told him Micky was.
Nick had made a lot of assumptions in the past, jumped into relationships with an agenda and hadn't taken the time to find out what the woman wanted and whether they were in sync. He needed to know if his passion signaled something deeper—sooner rather than later. His last thoughts for the night were about how he could speed up the process.
At seven sharp the next morning, Nick visited the best florist in town on his way to work, the minute the shop opened. He supposed he could have called in an order, but he had no idea which flowers would suit her, and he didn't want to get her clichéd roses. So, he picked out a tightly bundled bouquet of Peruvian lilies ranging from an intense lavender to deep violet with splashes of pristine white flowers flecked with purple.
"You sure you can deliver them this morning?"
"No problem, Mr. Halden. No problem at all. Is that the card?"
Nick sealed up the tiny florist card, slid it across the counter, and then headed to work, having trouble getting Micky out of his mind.
Micky slept restlessly, unable to shake the imprint of Nick Halden from her body. No one—not even Eric—had made her feel as wanton as Nick had the night before…and in public! She had been about sixty seconds away from doing enough to get arrested. Micky could only imagine how much Lila would have shaken her head at that.