Heat Waves

by Janelle Denison

  She pointed a finger her friend's way. "Now, that's emotional blackmail."

  "No, it's the cold, hard truth," she stated bluntly. "But imagine what this could do for your name, Heat Waves, and the station."

  Erica hated like hell to admit it, but Carly was right. Hadn't she, herself, seen the interest in Ian's nightly calls to the show steadily climb? Her devoted fans were demanding more, mesmerized by her on-air relationship with Ian. Now he was offering her the incentive to keep her listeners' interest piqued in a whole new forum. A very public forum.

  Her stomach twisted in knots and she chewed on her thumbnail. She disliked the thought of depending on Ian or anyone else for that matter, to raise her ratings. But she couldn't deny that he'd helped to elevate her standing in radio during the past month. And with the sale of WTLK, her future as a successful talk show DJ was on the line … whether with this station, or another.

  Bottom line, she needed those ratings. And she needed Ian to help her increase her listener base.

  And there was the rub to the situation. Three years ago she'd sworn she'd never need another man again, yet here she was, put in the position of relying on Ian to push her career to new heights. She couldn't make that climb without him, not easily, anyway. Not after the way he'd made himself such an integral part of her show. Not after the way he'd endeared himself to her audience.

  And especially not after he'd asked her out on a date. Refusing him would cast her in a very insensitive light to the thousands of women who'd accepted Ian as their fantasy, too. Turning him down would be professional suicide, and both she and Carly knew it.

  "He's waiting, Erica," Carly said, interrupting her thoughts. "And so are your listeners. Ten seconds to air-time."

  Taking her seat in front of the microphone, she adjusted her headset and prepared to sacrifice herself at the proverbial altar … all in the name of ratings and preserving her professional integrity with her audience.

  She lifted her chin and bolstered her fortitude. If Ian was intent on taking their on-the-air relationship out in public, then she'd take advantage of the situation for all it was worth and grasp whatever attention and publicity that came her way as a result of their date.

  She pressed a button on the control panel that put her back on the air. "Welcome back to Heat Waves, and we're definitely sizzling tonight. I apologize for leaving you all hanging. If you were stunned by Ian's proposal, then you can imagine how I felt." She laughed lightly, forcing the tension within her to dissolve. "But that's one of the entertaining things about live radio. It's unrehearsed, and sometimes uncensored. Ian's question was both."

  She closed her eyes, and took the big plunge. "I'm sure you're all wondering what I told Ian … yes, or no. Actually, I haven't spoken to him since he popped the big question; he's been on hold all this time. Since you, my listeners, have been following my nightly debates with Ian, I've decided to let you decide whether or not I should accept a date with him." She blinked her eyes open again and looked at Carly, who expressed her approval with a grin and thumbs-up sign. Erica wished she felt half as enthusiastic. "The phone lines are open and I want to hear from you, so call me and cast your vote."

  By silent agreement, Carly spoke to Ian privately and jotted down his phone number for Erica to call him back later after she'd polled her audience's opinions on the air. Listener reaction to the unexpected twist in her show was enthusiastic and supportive, and the results of her inquiry were concluded in a resounding, unanimous yes.

  The man had way too much influence over her listeners, who were completely and totally enthralled by him. Not that she could blame them when he'd managed to charm her, as well, over the past month. She'd just never ever, expected to find herself face-to-face with Mr. Sexy Voice.

  She was going out on a date with Ian. She shook her head in final defeat, wondering how tonight's topic had gotten so out of hand. Good Lord, if talk of sex and kisses instigated a date, what would happen when she discussed orgasms on tomorrow night's show? At the erotic thoughts filling her mind, her skin puckered with goose-flesh.

  During the next commercial break, Erica took a private, off-the-air moment to dial the number Ian had left with Carly. She assumed he'd been listening to her show during the voting process, knew the outcome had leaned heavily in his favor, and her calling was just a formality to congratulate him and set up the where and when of their date.

  Obviously expecting her, he answered with a deep, gracious, "Hello?"

  She couldn't contain the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, despite the turmoil he'd put her through. "Looks like you win, Ian."

  "I'd like to think we both win, Erica." His sensual insinuation was unmistakable.

  More tingling along her arms, across her breasts, down to the pit of her belly. Oh, Lord, what had she gotten herself into? A big mess, that was for sure!

  She rubbed her damp palms down the skirt of her dress and got down to the unavoidable business at hand. "I have a few stipulations I need you to agree to before we take this any further. First of all, this has to be a double date." There was no negotiating that request. She was being cautious and playing it smart. There was safety in numbers, and considering she didn't really know him, despite how Carly felt, Erica wouldn't meet him alone and take any chances.

  "I understand," he said easily, and without any hesitation. "In fact, I'd be worried if you didn't bring someone along this first time."

  This first time. As if there would be many dates to come. Sheesh. The man's confidence amazed her. And excited her.

  "It'll be with my station manager, Dan, and Carly, whom you've already met over the phone," she said, reeling in her two friends on this scheme whether they liked it or not. "And we'll meet you at a designated place."

  "All right," he said agreeably. "Name the day, place and time, and I'll be there."

  Without argument, he was leaving all the details up to her. She appreciated the control and his cooperation. It made her feel much more comfortable knowing she was the one in charge of their … date.

  "Let's make it for tomorrow night," she said, figuring Friday evening before her show would be ideal for all of them. And in a casual setting, too. "Do you know Pizzeria Uno?"

  "The one on East Ohio Street

  ?"

  She nodded, then realized he couldn't see her. "Yep, that's the one. I take it you've been there before?"

  "Umm, they make the best deep-dish pizza in all of Chicago."

  He was familiar with the city, at least. She wondered how long he'd lived in Chicago, what he did for a living … the kind of personal stuff they'd avoided talking about on her show, but would now have the time and opportunity to explore deeper.

  Oh, boy. "How about we meet there for dinner at let's say, seven?"

  "That works for me."

  Two thoughts occurred to her at the same time. "Ian?"

  "Yes?"

  "I don't know your last name." It hadn't mattered before, nor had it been necessary. Now it was one more step to becoming familiar with each other beyond the on-the-air acquaintances they'd been for the past month.

  "Carlisle," he said, his voice low and seductively rich. "Ian Carlisle."

  Nice. Very nice. She bit her bottom lip, worried on it for a few extra seconds before posing her next comment. "And I have no idea what you look like." She hoped he'd give her something to banish the image she'd given Tori earlier that day … of a couch-potato kind of guy with a beer belly and receding hairline.

  "Don't worry, I know what you look like and I'll approach you when you arrive at the restaurant."

  She frowned. "You know what I look like, but I don't even know what color your hair or eyes are." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her skin along her neck damp to the touch. "I'm feeling at a distinct disadvantage here."

  "You won't be for long," he promised, but offered nothing more.

  She accepted his terms, figuring he was entitled to a few of his own. "After our date, you can call the sta
tion at ten tomorrow night and we'll give everyone details on the air. Will that work for you?"

  "Perfectly."

  "Great." She swallowed against a sudden fluttering in her throat and sealed the deal with "Then it's a date."

  There was only one question that remained … how would their date end … with a chaste kiss, or something more?

  She'd have the answer to that in less than twenty-four hours.

  *

  FRIDAY NIGHT WAS THE longest day of Erica's life, even though she and Carly spent the better part of the afternoon trudging down the Magnificent Mile on Michigan Avenue

  . Her good friend insisted that she needed a new outfit for tonight's occasion, and Erica didn't argue. Not only did she need to keep her mind occupied or go crazy, but she figured a new dress wouldn't hurt, either.

  Much to her dismay, she'd splurged on more than a soft suede miniskirt and silky tank top at Ann Taylor. After a spontaneous stop at a beauty shop for a manicure and pedicure, Erica hadn't been able to pass up the pretty open-toed sandals she'd been eyeing for the past few weeks that matched her outfit perfectly. And when Carly pulled her into Victoria's Secret for a lacy teddy in Carly's quest to "bring Dan to his knees," Erica hadn't been able to resist buying something frilly and sexy for herself, too – something other than the practical cotton underwear she normally wore. With Carly's coaxing, she'd indulged in half a dozen bikini-style panties, and an under-wire bra in sheer chantilly lace that lifted and enhanced her B-cup size breasts and gave her more cleavage than she'd ever had before.

  Now, wearing the complete ensemble as she, Carly and Dan crossed the parking lot and headed along the sidewalk leading to the front entrance of Pizzeria Uno, she was glad she'd treated herself to those simple luxuries because it gave her a much needed boost of confidence. Anticipation and anxiety clashed inside her; the butterflies swarming in her stomach were a result of pure adrenaline and frayed nerves.

  She had no idea what to expect of Ian, or tonight, and that had her tied up in knots, too. She'd dated a few men since coming to Chicago, but none had had the restless kind of effect on her that Ian did – just from the sexy sound of his voice and the seemingly effortless way he seduced her mind. All of those other men who'd come and gone had been safe, because they affected neither her emotions nor her hormones. Ian had a way of shaking up both, and that was a combination she'd avoided for the past three years in an effort to focus on her career.

  She'd be a liar if she said she wasn't drawn to the Ian she'd come to know on the air, and making this leap to something far more tangible and real struck a dose of fear within her. By agreeing to meet with him she was tearing down the barriers that kept her safe and secure behind a microphone. Untouchable. Now there was nothing to stop temptation from taking its natural course. And because she was so strongly attracted to Ian she was afraid of getting carried away into a deeper, more serious involvement. Afraid of forgetting lessons learned and losing herself as she had with her ex-boyfriend.

  Never again. She refused to become a carbon copy of her mother and sister – using men for security and sacrificing everything in return. Being meek and mild and always answering to a man. Giving up the freedom to do what you want, be what you want, without having to ask permission or approval.

  Banishing those thoughts to the far recesses of her mind, she smoothed a hand down the side of her skirt. Remembering a caller's advice from a few nights ago, she pulled her shoulders back, lifted her chin, and did her best to exude poise and confidence. It was all a matter of keeping everything in perspective. And that meant staying in control, keeping her emotions at a distance, having fun with this and keeping it light.

  "You really do look like a million bucks, Erica," Dan complimented from a few steps behind her and Carly on the brick-inlaid sidewalk.

  "Thanks, Dan," she said from over her shoulder, and grinned wryly. "That's just about what the outfit cost me."

  "It was definitely worth it." His dark eyes took in the little red dress that Carly wore just as appreciatively. "I'm guessing that you spent twice that much," he said to his girlfriend, "because you look like two million bucks."

  Carly beamed, her skin flushed from his praise. "If you think the dress looks good, just wait until you see what I'm wearing beneath it." She wiggled her bottom enticingly.

  Dan groaned. "You're going to kill me yet, woman."

  Erica laughed, grateful for the lighthearted moment. "Then give her what she wants."

  "I give her plenty to keep her satisfied," he replied. "I'm in the same mind as your Ian. Romance and seduction. Besides, she might not buy the cow if she's getting the milk for free."

  Erica heard Dan's amusing witticism, but her mind latched onto only one part of his comment. "He's not my Ian."

  Carly gave her a playful nudge in her side as they rounded the corner to the restaurant. "I'm sure he could be, if you played your cards right."

  Erica wasn't sure what cards she wanted to play with Ian. She supposed it all depended on how tonight went and if their on-the-air chemistry was evident once they met face-to-face. Even then, where would it all lead? She'd find out soon enough.

  A small crowd stood out in front of the establishment as people waited for their names to be called for a table. Heads casually turned her way as she approached the entrance, and she found the combination of subtle and bold stares unnerving. Especially since she had no idea who Ian was or what he looked like. He could be watching her at this very moment and she wouldn't even know. A shiver coursed down her spine at the thought.

  "Why don't you two wait out here, and I'll go and check on the reservations I made earlier today and see if Ian has checked in with the hostess," Dan said, then left Carly and Erica standing out front while he went into the busy establishment.

  The evening was warm and sultry, making Erica's skin shimmer from the humidity. Nervously, her fingers fluttered through her hair to push it away from her face, which she'd left down and slightly curled at the ends so it brushed her shoulders,

  Antsy from the anticipation of waiting, Erica shifted on her sandaled feet and glanced at the people around her. Her perusal came to a skidding halt when she met the striking green-eyed gaze of a man standing by himself about ten feet away. Awareness filled her and her pulse quickened. He was gorgeous – from his thick black hair that was cut in a neat executive style, to his broad shoulders encased in a blue knit collared shirt and jeans that molded to an athletic body made for sin. Everything about him was pure, unadulterated male, and he took her breath away.

  He was, most definitely, a hottie.

  He hooked his thumbs in the front pocket of his jeans, his sensual mouth curving upward in the kind of lazy smile she'd imagined a hundred times in her head. A delicious warmth settled low, arousing her as if he'd caressed her with more than just his heated gaze.

  She swallowed hard. Unable to look away, she willed him to move toward her and introduce himself as Ian Carlisle … until her attention was pulled away from him by Carly's startled gasp.

  Her friend clutched her arm as a choked sound escaped her. "Oh, God, Erica, I'm sorry," she whispered frantically. "Please forgive me for talking you into doing this."

  Erica frowned in confusion, having no idea what Carly was talking about until she glanced up again and spotted a portly man who looked old enough to be her father approaching her with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He stopped directly in front of her, his eyes shining with excitement and awe.

  Every fantasy Erica had ever had about Ian withered away in that moment. Her comment to Carly about a guy having a voice as incredible as Ian's had to have been shortchanged in the looks department came back to haunt her. Her prediction had come true.

  She gulped, her chest tightening with disappointment – not that she'd let this man in front of her see her shock. She forced a polite smile, even as she wondered how she was going to survive the next few hours. "Ian?"

  The man's bushy brows rose high over his whiskey-colored eyes. "Uh,
no. My name is Barry, and I'm the manager here. My wife and I listen to your show, Heat Waves, all the time and I'm a huge fan. I was talking to that gentleman back there who's here for your date, and told him how much I'd love to meet you and get your autograph, and he said I could do the honors and present you with these flowers while I was at it."

  He brandished the bouquet with a flourish, and she took the floral display from him. "Thank you," she murmured, the scent of roses filling her senses. Still uncertain about who her actual date was, and not willing to assume anything at this point, she asked, "What guy are you talking about, Barry?"

  "Ian," he said, as if she should have known. "Your nightly caller. He's right over there." He pointed to the man lounging against the metal railing circling the outdoor seating area.

  She heard Carly's breath rush out of her lungs in a grateful sigh, which matched Erica's own relief.

  As soon as their gazes meet again, Ian grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously. The man most definitely had a sense of humor to go with all that devastating sex appeal.

  She turned back to the manager of Pizzeria Uno and shook his hand warmly. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Barry. If you have a business card, I'd be happy to send you an autographed publicity photo and other promotional items."

  As Barry dug a card from his wallet, a woman standing to her left tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me, I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but are you Erica McCree?" she asked while the rest of the people in her party stared expectantly.

  Erica smiled and nodded. "Yes, I am."

  The other woman's face lit up. "Oh, wow, this is so cool! You're here for your date with Ian, aren't you?"

  And that's all it took for word to spread. Erica had never considered herself famous before, or even a highly recognizable name, but in the blink of an eye her status as a radio talk-show host had been elevated. And for those who'd never heard of her name and her show, they were quickly filled in on the details of Heat Waves and the much anticipated date with Ian.

  Everyone watched in interest and fascination as the gorgeous bystander slowly made his way across the distance separating them, his sole focus on her. For Erica, everything and everyone around them faded away as he filled her vision.