The Right Man

by Mankin, Michelle

  “That’s her, all right,” Rush said. “And that’s Charles Morris.”

  Mary joined a man her age with striking blue eyes and close-cropped gray hair. He wore a suit as elegant as hers, and given the way it draped across his wide shoulders, it had to be a custom fit. Murmuring something that made her dark expression lighten, he lithely spun the exec into his arms and steered her out of the dining room.

  “Wow.” I turned to find Rush much closer than he’d been before, his arm now resting along the back of my chair. “You weren’t exaggerating about her.”

  “Nope. She’s a very powerful woman in a business mostly controlled by very powerful men. I get the reason she’s the way she is, and I actually like her. But don’t ever tell her. I like the way she gives it to me straight. What the hell use is someone handling my career if they just tell me what I want to hear?”

  I nodded. I could understand that. “And Charles Morris is?”

  “The CEO of Black Cat Records’ biggest competitor, Zenith Productions. If Mary signs a rising artist, he goes after a bigger one. They both tried to sign me. They’ve been rivals for as long as anyone can remember. But there are recent rumors.”

  Rush seemed to lose his train of thought, and so did I as he took a long strand of my hair and stared at it as if in wonder at the color, the texture, or both. Rubbing it between his fingers, he murmured, “Silky soft.”

  “The rumors?” I said, recoupling the train of our conversation somehow, though my voice was breathy.

  “Something about a shared past. A tragic one, but I can’t recall the details.”

  With one finger, he traced the strand upward, his gaze following his progress. My entire body tingled as he brushed the shell of my ear and tucked the piece of hair he had captured behind it.

  “I love your hair, especially with it loose around your shoulders like this,” he said, his voice an intimate rumble.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  His gaze lifted and met mine with a jolt I felt throughout my entire body. “You knocked me on my ass when I saw you outside. So unexpectedly pretty. So unassumingly beautiful.”

  My cheeks heated. “You don’t have to compliment me.”

  “I do. Why shouldn’t I give it to you straight?”

  Again, I met his gaze, and this time it stole my breath. “Because . . .”

  Because this was temporary. Because if I’d knocked him on his ass, he’d done the same to me. Because he could get back up and go on with his life, but I was afraid it wouldn’t be so easy for me. But I couldn’t tell him that.

  “It was all there last night. The smile. Those eyes. Your soft skin. Perfect tits. Ditto on the ass and legs. Amazing, all of you. But dimmed until now.” He shook his head as if in disbelief.

  I smiled. Huge. “You make me feel beautiful.”

  “Good.” He took my hand, stroking my skin with his thumb. “I like you with me, Jewel. But there’s one thing I don’t like.”

  His expression firmed, and I felt a frisson of fear.

  “You leaving.”

  Confused, I shook my head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You did this morning. And I didn’t like it.” His lips flattened. “We’ll talk more about that later.” He lifted his gaze, releasing me. “The waiter’s on his way with the first course. I went ahead and ordered for us.”

  “All right.” My lips puckered into an embarrassed grimace. “I wouldn’t know what to order anyway.”

  “Have you ever had French food?” He hooked the leg of my chair with his foot, dragging me closer, and his armrest bumped mine. This close, his warmth compelled me, and his woodsy scent messed with my equilibrium. He messed with it.

  “No,” I managed to reply.

  “Well then, you’re in for a treat. I’ve had it all over the globe, but Taix is the best.”

  He grinned, and the force of his happiness settled somewhere deep inside my chest. The room spun, and then it hit me. That brilliant smile of his did more than just mess with me.

  Rush McMahon completely rocked my world.

  • • •

  Rush

  Watching Jewel eat was seductive. The dabbing of her lips with the white linen napkin. The swiping of her tongue across them. The moans of pleasure that escaped. My cock leaped with eagerness each time she did one of those things. Hell, it twitched right now at just the sight of her taking a sip of her coffee.

  “I can’t believe you used to work here.” Her head tipped to an inquisitive angle, and the shards of coppery metal dangling from her delicate ear skimmed her regal neck.

  I longed to press my lips to her soft skin, wanted to trace the stretched tendon between her neck and shoulder with the tip of my tongue. Would her lids lower? Would she shiver? Would she sigh my name? Did she have any idea how much she tantalized me?

  Lost in my thoughts, lost in her, I imagined a cascading wind sound accompanying the movement of her earring. Jack could duplicate it with chimes. The sound would fit well as the background for the bridge in the song I had started.

  “How long ago was that?” she asked, oblivious to my thoughts.

  “A long time ago.”

  Hardly any of the same staff remained from those days. But it still felt more like coming home to eat a meal here than it did to sit around the formal dining table at the farmhouse. To me, home was more a place where you knew you were always welcome than it was anything else.

  “And you never waited tables?”

  “No way. Just bussed them. I would never be able to remember what everyone ordered without writing it down. I love great food, but I’m shit at the finer details, knowing what wine goes with what and all. I just like what I like.”

  I gave her a pointed look.

  “Back then, I could barely cover my portion of the rent on the dump the guys and I lived in. Working here, I was guaranteed a good meal. Most days it was the only one I got. I held on to this job even after I got the advance from Black Cat. I only let it go when they booked us our first tour.”

  “I can relate to that.” Her brow creased. “Do you think maybe . . . I mean . . .” Her cheeks turned pink. “It might not be appropriate, but do you think they might have an opening I could apply for?”

  Fuck. I was such an insensitive ass. Jewel could certainly use a job like I’d had here. She was living the hand-to-mouth existence I had back in the early days of my career.

  “Would you like me to introduce you to the owner?”

  “I’d love that.”

  “Done.” I lifted a finger to snag our waiter’s attention, and he hurried over.

  “Would you like the check, Mr. McMahon?”

  “Yes, I would. But I’d also like to introduce my companion to Gustav. Is he in his office today?”

  “No, monsieur. Sadly, he’s not. He’s out of town until the day after tomorrow. Would you like me to give him a message?”

  “I’ll scribble one on our receipt. I know he enters those himself.”

  “That he does.” The waiter set the leather folder on the table beside me. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  When he deftly reached for my empty plate and then shifted to retrieve Jewel’s, her hand shot out to stop him.

  “Not yet.” She smiled prettily at him, evoking an irrational surge of jealousy in me that she’d frivolously shared such a treasure with him. “There’s a tiny bit of creme brûlée left.”

  “My apologies, mademoiselle.” He backed away.

  Jewel turned her smile to me, and all was forgotten. “Do you think it would be bad manners to lick the bowl clean?”

  “It might be.” My gaze dropped to her lips. “But that’s something I’d like to see.” I scanned her face, enjoying the view before stopping on her eyes. “But better than watching what you can do with your tongue, I’d much rather experience it.”

  “Rush . . .” She breathed out my name again like she thought I was a gift.

  But it was her. She was the treasure.

  The
way she looked at me. The way I felt with her. Every moment made me feel like a thief for paying her so little.

  “Anything I want?” I asked. “Is that offer still on the table?”

  “Yes. You know it is.” She lowered her gaze, and her creamy skin bloomed like a blush rose.

  “Good. I have more than a few ideas about that.”

  Sensing the weight of Jewel’s gaze on me, I scrawled a quick note to Gustav, thanking him for the delicious meal. I mentioned Jewel’s interest in a job there and gave myself as a reference. Then I dropped the pen, pushed back my chair, and stood, suddenly very anxious to get going.

  “Can I have your hand, pretty girl?” I asked her, offering mine.

  Nodding, she took my hand. A surge of emotion swept through me at the sight of her slender fingers resting within mine.

  I closed my hand around hers. Mine. That word blazed through my mind.

  First on my list was a kiss. I had to taste her lips. Then I was having her every way I could imagine, in every room in my condo.

  It would take longer than the day I suspected she’d set aside for me. But if we ran over the twenty-four hours, I’d just schedule with her for more. I didn’t want anyone else to touch her. I’d pay her whatever it took for exclusivity.

  But deep down, I suspected there wasn’t enough money in my entire bank account to have what I really wanted from her.

  Chapter 17

  * * *

  Jewel

  In the passenger seat, I watched Rush. His expression focused, his thigh flexed as he gave the Porsche a little gas to inch it forward. He was a much more compelling sight than the bumper-to-bumper traffic on the freeway.

  Correction. He was a more compelling view than any other I could recall. And the more I knew, the more I wanted to know about him.

  “The temperature okay?” he asked, but didn’t turn his head to look at me since he was driving. He was careful on the road. Careful with the passenger beside him.

  “It’s fine.”

  “You sure?” He glanced at me to confirm, his hair falling over his eyes and shadowing his gaze. “You were cold last night in the hotel.”

  “I was, but I was wearing a lot less clothes then.”

  “Your lack of clothing is definitely not something I’ll ever forget.” When he returned his attention to the road, he grinned, giving me a side view of the upward curve of his sculpted lips that made my stomach flutter. “But I gotta say my favorite outfit on you is none at all.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” I said, hiding my smile.

  “What’s the story behind your tee?” he asked, catching me off guard with a straight question after the sensual teasing. “It’s very original.”

  “My gran made it.”

  “Oh, Jewel. I’m sorry.” He seemed to sense the sudden mood switch, or maybe my fingers flexed and gave me away, threaded together with his.

  “It’s okay,” I replied automatically, and tried to extract my fingers from his mood-barometer-sensing ones.

  “Don’t pull away just because I stumbled into a sensitive subject.” He tightened his grip. He’d only let go of my hand once since the restaurant. Apparently, he wasn’t going to do it again anytime soon.

  “Do you wanna tell me about your father?” I asked, turning the question back on him.

  “You withdraw or lash out whenever I hit on a sensitive subject.” He sounded exasperated. “C’mon. Don’t be defensive. We weren’t talking about him. Tell me about her. She obviously supported your painting if she made you that T-shirt. That’s pretty cool. I didn’t have that kind of support in my home.”

  “You mentioned that, and I’m sorry I snapped at you. It’s just that . . .” I pulled in a breath and let it out, giving him the truth. “The memories I have, the good and the bad, they’re all I have left of her or my parents.”

  Rush nodded. “I understand. With my dad, before he passed, all I could focus on was the bad. My bitterness that he didn’t understand me blinded me to the rest. But with him gone, I remember those other things.”

  “What other things?” Swiveling to more fully face him, I covered our joined hands with my other one, trying and failing not to feel so much emotion when I was connected to him like this.

  “How he would work so hard on the farm, out at sunrise, home in the late afternoon with his clothes covered in dirt, exhausted. Yet he would smile whenever he saw me.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “It was. If I was shooting hoops behind the garage, he would join me. If I was at the kitchen table working on math problems, he would help me. He never made me feel like I was putting him out. It was later, when I took my life in a direction he didn’t understand, that things became strained between us.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Rush glanced at me and his lips lifted, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not gonna tell you it’s okay. Because it’s not. It sucks. I can never fix the breach between us. He’s gone, and he’s not coming back.”

  “I know.” Tears filled my eyes. “I know exactly how you feel.”

  “I suspect you do.” He let out a breath and flicked on the turn signal. “So, tell me some good stuff about your gran. Telling me won’t take them away from you. It breathes life into the memories you cherish, right? Like now that I shared about my old man, you have that picture of him inside you too. It’s something we can both share. Yeah?”

  I nodded, feeling the tight bands around my heart loosen. “There was a lot of good stuff with her. She took me in when I was little. She’d just lost my grandad, but she made my coming to live with her seem like I was giving her a gift rather than being a burden.”

  “That’s pretty amazing.”

  “She was amazing. She didn’t get mad when she caught me drawing on the kitchen walls with my markers. Instead, she took me to the hobby store and bought me paints in every color, moved my bedroom furniture to the center of the room, covered it with tarps, and told me to paint the walls however I wanted. ‘The world is your blank canvas,’ she told me. ‘Make it whatever you want.’”

  “Like your shirt says.”

  “Yeah.” I sniffed, blinking back the tears that threatened. “She was always saying beautiful, encouraging stuff like that. There’s a huge hole inside me with her gone. I miss her.”

  “I bet you do, Jewel. I bet you do.”

  • • •

  Rush

  “Well, this is it.” I gestured for Jewel to enter my home ahead of me, and started to apologize as soon as I shut the door behind us. “It’s small. Minimalist decor. Don’t expect too much.”

  She didn’t reply at first. Her flip-flops snapped as she quickly passed by the dramatically curved entryway into the combination kitchen-living-dining space where she stopped.

  “This is gorgeous.”

  “Thanks.” I didn’t tell her how much her approval meant, or how I’d been holding my breath, waiting for her verdict. “I’ve been on the road six months. I didn’t want to stay in a hotel another night.” There was so much more to me bringing her here, but I downplayed it.

  “Stop apologizing. Flat-screen TV on the wall. Fireplace. Comfy leather couch. Shag rug. Glass fixtures. Teak accent tables. Dark hardwoods unifying it all.” She spun in a circle, taking it all in. “It’s eclectic. Modern. Masculine. It suits you.”

  Stopping where she’d started, she faced the glass doors that slid open to a four-hundred-square-foot ground-level patio.

  “I’ve only seen part of it, but I can already tell that part is way nicer than the Chamberlain. And then there’s that to seduce you.” She gestured at the view. “The Pacific Ocean right at your doorstep. An unrestricted view.” She swiveled to look at me, and I was immediately given an infinitely better one. “This place must’ve cost you a fortune.”

  It had. But when I’d first stepped inside, it felt right. “Luckily, it came furnished and was newly remodeled.”

  She shook her head. “I’m thinking I undercharged you.
” Her lips lifted slightly. “I might need to bring back the per-smile fee.”

  “Hold up there, Miss Opportunist.” I moved closer, drawn to her levity, attracted to her in a way that I’d never experienced before. “I have a ridiculous mortgage.”

  I reached out and ran the back of my hand down her arm. I had to touch her, had to convince myself that this was real. That she was real and here inside my condo.

  “I’ll be eighty by the time I finally pay it off.”

  “Only eighty, huh?” She lifted her head from watching me stroke her skin to tilt it at the patio. “Can we go outside?”

  “We,” I put emphasis on the togetherness, “can go anywhere you want. Here, let me open them for you.” I unlatched the doors and slid them apart. Standing aside, I gestured for her to precede me.

  “You’re such a gentleman. Thank you.” She slipped through the gap I’d created and moved straight to the glass half wall that overlooked the beach.

  I was hardly that, but I shrugged out of my jacket, tossing it onto one of the easy chairs, and followed her, my strides intent.

  My arms banded tight around her slender shoulders as I drew her backward into my embrace. She could still enjoy the view with her back to my front, but I had to be connected to her while she did. Her chest expanded as she pulled in a deep breath.

  “I don’t know how you ever manage to leave,” she whispered as if the moment were sacred. Or maybe that was the way I read it, because to me, that was exactly how it felt.

  “It’s not easy. This is the one place where I feel like I have some peace. Where I can be still. Where I can be myself.”

  She pulled in a quick breath but didn’t speak.

  Did she get it, the underlying significance of what it meant for me to allow her into my private places? The passenger seat in my car. Here in my personal sanctuary. No other woman had been in those places except her.

  “I love it here.” She let out a sigh, relaxing into me, leaning her head on my shoulder. The sea breeze combed through her thick gleaming hair like I’d longed to since I saw her outside Taix without the wig. But for the moment, I had what I wanted.