"Read ’em and weep, honey." The fortune-teller edged one finger beneath a giant
swami’s hat to itch her forehead. "You drew the Knight of Cups, the Queen of
Swords, and the Knight of Swords. Then when you wanted more clarification, you
drew the Lovers card. How much more clear could your reading be?"
"Much." Chloe Leclaire glared at the spurious fortune-teller — actually Glenda,
a clerk from Chloe’s law firm — across the light of a flickering silver candle
and a table draped in red silk and tarot cards. "Having been nominated most dull
coed in my college sorority two years straight, I can honestly say this racy
love triangle prediction makes no sense."
Chloe had attended tonight’s Silk Masquerade, a Heart Society fund-raiser, in
order to support her largest client and to fulfill a pact she’d made with her
girlfriends. Said girlfriends, Lexi and Amanda, were currently disguised as
Cleopatra and Marie Antoinette and were oohing and aahing over the outrageously
romantic reading the phony fortune-teller insisted on providing for her.
"I haven’t seen one marginally eligible bachelor tonight, ladies," Chloe
returned. Heaven knew she’d searched the crowd for Eric Matteo — a sexy
financier and the one bachelor who’d been lurking through her dreams lately —
but he was nowhere to be seen in the glittering crowd. "I hardly think I’m going
to end up like the queen here and have to choose between two dashing knights."
Amanda leaned forward to tug on the shoulder of Chloe’s red lace gown. "But
isn’t it sort of serendipitous that you came dressed as the Queen of Hearts
tonight? Maybe Glenda is right."
"Let me get this straight." Cleopatra/Lexi leaned over the fat crystal ball
perched on the table and stabbed the Knight of Cups with one long red talon.
"This guy is the romantic idealist." She walked her fingers across the table to
the Knight of Swords. "And this guy represents turbulence and change?"
Glenda sighed. "You’re taking it a bit literally, but yes, I guess so."
Chloe pushed away from the table, having heard enough about romance and love
tonight to last her 10 lifetimes. "Okay, girlfriends. The nonstop talk of
romance has migraine written all over it. There’s not a snowball’s chance in
Maui that a stick-in-the-mud former debutante like me will be torn between two
guys tonight. I vote we get to work fulfilling the pact we made and settle for
finding one guy apiece tonight."
Marie Antoinette rose. "It’s your 25th birthday, Chloe. You call the shots
tonight." She extended her pinky finger toward her friends. "I’m still in, if
you guys are."
Cleopatra flashed a grin, her kohl-rimmed eyes alight with mischief. "Are you
kidding? Any time we make a pact to be wild and daring, I’ll be first in line to
meet the challenge." She locked pinkies with Amanda, then turned expectantly to
Chloe. "Come on, Squire Leclaire. Pony up the promise."
Chloe recalled the pact they’d made over one too many margaritas at lunch.
They’d promised to each wrangle a man at the Silk Masquerade, to use the
opportunity of anonymity to live dangerously, flirt recklessly, and proposition
aggressively.
Normally, Chloe would never be so bold anywhere outside her law office or a
courtroom. But turning 25 had made her realize she needed to start taking more
chances, to start having some fun before she ended up as reserved and
stiff-necked as the rest of her blue-blooded family.
She pulled her red silk mask over her eyes and proffered a pinky.
"Let the manhunting begin." She’d find a man to fraternize with tonight if it
killed her — even if it wasn’t Eric. Besides, the man might be hot enough to
infiltrate her dreams on a regular basis, but his bottom-line, corporate-shark
mentality would no doubt make them incompatible for anything more than a brief,
high-sizzle encounter. "I’ve never lost a case — or a bet — yet."
They clenched pinkies and let out a girlie-whoop that went back to shared
boarding school days. Chloe ducked out of the fortune-teller’s tent and back
into the masquerade ball, Glenda’s voice shouting in her wake, "Be prepared for
turbulence and change!"
Chloe pretended not to hear.
If she was going to follow through on her vow to be more daring, she didn’t want
to think about the shock waves that might result in the aftermath.
Cleopatra and Marie Antoinette parted ways — dividing the room to conquer their
men and leaving the Heart Queen to her own devices. Chloe absorbed the mix of
perfumes in the crowded hotel ballroom. Pink festoons blanketed the walls while
a garland of red silk hearts covered everything else, including the light
fixtures, the freestanding bars and the waitresses’ short skirts.
A high school prom in nightmarish proportions, thankfully peopled by men who
normally dressed up in Armani as opposed to rented rayon tuxedos. Not that Chloe
had seen a great deal of her own prom, considering she’d spent half the night in
the bathroom crying her eyes out over the one guy she’d ever been willing to
risk her heart with.
Now, Chloe’s gaze raked over every possible male candidate under 50. Make that
under 45. She crossed off the first 15 she spied within no more than 10 seconds,
her lawyer’s mind accustomed to making quick assessments and sizing up people at
a glance. Then, realizing she’d cross off the whole room in another half an
hour, Chloe closed her eyes and told herself to slow down. She took slow, deep
breaths and reopened.
Only to find Eric Matteo in her line of vision.
The Roman gladiator at two o’clock would give Russell Crowe a run for his money.
Eric stood in bronze-plated glory not 20 feet from her, his mask nowhere to be
seen.
Would he recognize her in her costume tonight? Maybe her mask would allow her
the anonymity to finally have that brief, sizzling encounter she’d been dreaming
about without having to confront their past courtroom clashes, or the fact that
Eric represented so much about her blue-blooded world she was running from.
Thanks to her masquerade, she’d show him a different side of herself tonight.
Something a little more daring.
Starting right now.
Chloe tossed her curls over one shoulder and closed the distance between her and
Eric Matteo. She didn't dare give herself time to think about what she was going
to say, or what she was going to do. With the assurance of her hidden identity,
she would just say the first thing that came to mind when she reached him.
Shoving between a caped vampire and a gloved Michael Jackson impersonator, Chloe
glided to a halt in front of her gladiator soon-to-be-lover and gave her full
red skirts a little shake — just enough of a flounce to be sure the slit in the
hem provided a glimpse of the bright red garters she'd invested in for tonight.
"I found a balcony two doors down that would make a perfect trysting place," she
blurted, her words chasing one another in a rather less-than-sultry rush. "Care
to join me?"
Eric stared at her for a long moment, his intense brown eyes absorbing every
last inch of her red dress.
"Depends if we're really trysting or if you're just warming up for another round
of Crucify the Witness, I guess. What exactly did you have in mind, Chloe?"
Horrified to be identified within the first 10 seconds of her covert mission,
Chloe nearly teetered right off her two and half inch heels. "How did you know
it was me?"
Eric stepped closer to slide one finger beneath her red, feathered mask and
peeled it away from her face. "I'd know those red curls and that flowery scent
anywhere."
The warmth of his touch tripped through her until she barely managed to suppress
a sensual shiver. She frowned, more than a little embarrassed to be recognized
so early in the game. "But I always wear my hair up in court."
"That whole time you were cross-examining me right into a deadlock jury, I was
thinking about what it would look like if I took it down. " He reached to touch
one springy lock. "I have a pretty good imagination."
A rush of heat stole through her at his words. She'd nearly lost that case
because it had been so difficult to concentrate while cross-examining him. What
woman could think straight with a man — especially this man — looking at
her like that? Well, that wasn't a concern anymore, thanks to a closed
case and a new day. Or night, as it were. Before she could figure out how to
extricate herself from an exceedingly awkward situation, Eric flashed her a
wicked grin.
"Now, what were you saying about a tryst?"
Chloe bit her lip, knowing it would be far more daring — and difficult — to
proposition him since her cover had been blown. Did she have the nerve? She
looked around the room for a glimpse of Lexi or Amanda, anything to give her the
final nudge to take that last adventurous step.
Instead of finding a thumbs-up from Cleopatra, however, Chloe's eyes locked on
the only other man she'd ever propositioned in her life. The man who'd turned
her down, despite her most heartfelt attempts at seduction.
Austin Radley.
Chloe hadn't confronted Austin since that night he'd roared out of her life on
his father's Harley. The night of the prom that had broken her high school
heart, while Austin had pursued his own dreams at an out-of-state college.
Yet here was Austin, the man who'd been the focus of her every girlhood dream,
homing in on her through the glittering Manhattan party as surely as if he'd
been tracking her with radar. And damned if he wasn't dressed as a medieval
knight — complete with shining armor. Or did they call that chain mail? Either
way, he wore some sort of silvery metal shirt over his very impressive chest,
and a sword strapped to his side.
"Chloe?" Austin's voice mingled with Eric's as they said her name in unison.
The fortune-teller's warnings floated back to her. Who would have believed she,
Chloe Leclaire - smart-girl-in-the-front-row-turned-boring-attorney - would be
standing between the two most gorgeous men in the room tonight?
She couldn't play vamp to Eric with Austin looking on. She needed to settle
this, here and now. Turning to Eric, she asked, "Would you excuse me?"
He nodded, but his dark brown eyes were alert. "I'm not going anywhere."
Chloe turned to greet Austin, who didn't waste any time with talk, preferring to
kiss her full on the lips instead.
His mouth brushed hers, warm and inviting. Seven years after the last time he'd
kissed her, and he still teased her senses with the same cologne. She couldn't
deny the leap of her pulse at his touch. Or ignore the heat of Eric's watchful
gaze.
"It's been a long time," Austin whispered in her ear before pulling away. His
green eyes raked over her dress and he smiled the killer grin — complete with
dimple — she'd never forgotten. "You look gorgeous."
"You don't look so bad yourself." Determined to play it cool until she at least
figured out his intent, Chloe took an extra step back to give herself a little
more breathing room. Thinking room.
Sure she wanted to be daring tonight, but it looked like she could be in for
some difficult choices. She wanted to be sure her ability to reason wasn't
compromised by a stray whiff of men's cologne. "What are you doing here?"
Austin snagged her hand and kissed the palm. "Isn't it obvious? I'm here for
you."
How long had Chloe waited for Austin to say those words? Far too long, in her
opinion. Besides, she had a red-hot gladiator waiting 10 feet away and ready to
engage in sensual battle with her tonight.
"I’m sorry, Austin." She withdrew her hand from his, but not without a little
trepidation. Was she doing the right thing walking away from a lighthearted man
who knew how to have fun for a too-intense corporate shark? "It’s nice to see
you again, but I’m with the gladiator."
For tonight, anyway.
Austin’s surprise showed for all of two seconds before he masked it behind that
sexy dimple. "Who can argue with the Queen of Hearts?" He offered her a knightly
bow and then disappeared into the throng, straight toward a luscious brunette in
a green Victorian riding habit.
She didn’t have a moment to miss him. She sensed Eric’s presence behind her, the
heat of his bronze-covered chest at her back, before he opened his mouth to
speak.
"Call me crazy." She turned to face him, his broad shoulders blocking the rest
of the party from her gaze. She took one of the champagne glasses from his
hands. "But I thought I’d at least see if there was something to all this tryst
talk we were having before I get swept off by any medieval knights."
"Smart woman." He clinked her glass with his. "Here’s to the lure of Rome." Then
he leaned closer to whisper in her ear. "And the promise of trysts yet to come."
Eric watched Chloe bite her lip between sips of her champagne. But he was also
close enough to feel the shiver of anticipation shimmy through her at his
whispered words.
No way could he allow any time for buyer’s remorse to set in. She’d chosen him
tonight, and he would do everything he could to make damn sure she never
regretted it for a minute.
He plucked her drink from her hand and set both their glasses on a passing
waiter’s tray. "Of course, I wouldn’t dream of jumping the gun and taking you up
on that tryst just yet." He put both hands on her waist and steered her toward
the dance floor, trying his best not to get totally distracted by the soft curve
of her willowy body, the gentle sway of her satin-covered hips. "First, we
dance."
They nudged past a scantily clad Wonder Woman and a saucy tavern wench who blew
him kisses behind Chloe’s back. A French maid and a sexy cowgirl winked his way,
too, but all Eric could think about was the delicious redhead he finally had his
hands on.
As they hit the floor, he spun her into his arms. She landed flush against his
chest just as a sultry Latin ballad began. Eric thanked Fate for his continued
streak of good luck. Chloe’s breasts swelled above the low scoop of her red gown
to brush against him as they danced. He anchored her to him with one arm and
guided her around the floor with his other.
The flowery scent that had teased him throughout their shared days in court now
enticed him closer and closer. He settled for grazing her temple with his cheek
so that he could talk while they moved together. "I came here tonight hoping to
see you again."
She peered up at him, cheeks surprisingly pink for a woman who made a name for
herself cutting witnesses down to size on the stand. "How did you know I would
be here?"
"I looked up your client list online and noticed the Heart Society among others.
I already had the invitation for the Silk Masquerade by then and figured an
aggressive young lawyer like you would attend to support her client." He edged
his fingers lower on her waist to graze her hip. She followed him effortlessly
around the floor, making him wonder how well matched they’d be off the floor.
"You think I’m aggressive?" Suspicious blue eyes seemed to weigh his words.
"You talked your witnesses into so many circles you ended up deadlocking a case
that should have been a clear-cut decision against you. Hell, yes, I think
you’re aggressive."
She smiled, her red lips curling into a satisfied grin he hoped to see in other
— more private — situations. "You’re still mad about that?"
He hadn’t meant to talk business. He’d intended to talk about her. All his life
he had been driven in his career, determined to prove himself to a family
certain he’d fail. But Chloe made him want to forget all about that, made him
want to focus solely on doing anything in his power to make sure she left this
shindig on his arm tonight.
But maybe if they didn’t address their shared history they’d never get around to
making new — more pleasurable — memories. "You mounted a case for the Broadway
Historical Society to preserve a building that has no business in downtown
Manhattan anymore, effectively barring an ambitious cultural center from finding
a great home downtown. I wouldn’t say I’m mad so much as I am frustrated with
the outcome of that case. But that doesn’t have anything to do with us right
now."
As the music ended, Eric twirled her away from him in a flurry of red satin
skirts and then reeled her back into him. Tightly. "I’d rather focus on some
other ways you could be aggressive tonight."
The heat of Eric's body surged right through Chloe's satin gown. If that molten
temperature was any indication of how much he wanted her, tonight was going to
be every bit as sizzling as Chloe had imagined.
She stood motionless in his arms, caught up in the hum of desire between them
even though the rest of the dancers on the floor had already shifted gears into
an updated tango rhythm. "Do you care to clarify exactly what you mean by that,
Mr. Matteo? In what ways would you like to see me be more aggressive?"
His cheek brushed her temple as he leaned closer. "Ever the lawyer, aren't you,
Chloe?" He trailed his hand possessively over the curve of her waist, the flare
of her hip. "In this case, I'd be happy to spell it out for you, counsel."
He steered her toward the edge of the dance floor, into the shadows and away
from the swirl of bright costumes and sequined skirts. "I don't want you to hide
behind that cool lady-lawyer mask of yours any longer." He cupped her cheek with
one warm palm. "And while you're at it, I also want an uncensored view of those
red garters you're wearing, but I don't want to have to hunt for them under all
those skirts." His thigh grazed hers as they spoke, making her all too aware of
the gossamer cling of her silky stockings. "I want you to show them to me.
Slowly."
Her breath caught in her throat and refused to return to normal. Her heart
rhumbaed, salsaed, and slow-grooved in her chest, igniting an erratic flow of
blood to her body parts. Her fingers chilled while her most secret places
burned.
"Don't tell me I rendered the lady lawyer speechless." He ran his fingers down
her shoulders until he held both her hands.
That's exactly what he'd done. Chloe had never been at a loss for what to say,
but she couldn't seem to distance herself from the tide of sensual hunger long
enough to use her brain for thinking purposes. She simply stared at his mouth
and thought how much easier it would be to kiss him....
Until Cleopatra-Lexi appeared over Eric's shoulder and cleared her throat.
Loudly.
Marie Antoinette-Amanda materialized at her side, looking surprisingly
compassionate given her "Let them eat cake" notoriety. "Chloe, honey, we just
wanted to check up on you to make sure you're okay."
Did barely breathing count as okay? Chloe managed a nod as Eric backed up a
step.
Fortunately, her gladiator was thinking more clearly. He offered his hand to
Cleopatra, the more obvious watchdog of the pair. "I'm Eric."
The Queen of Eqypt raised a skeptical eyebrow but shook his hand. "I'm Lexi
Mansfield — your worst nightmare if you're bothering my girlfriend."
Chloe found her tongue before Lexi got the wrong idea. "Actually, we were just
making plans for the rest of the evening." She shot a meaningful look in Eric's
direction. "Will you excuse us for a minute?"
Eric walked his fingers down her spine, an intimate gesture her friends couldn't
see behind her back but that Chloe felt in every tingling nerve ending. "I've
been meaning to have my fortune told tonight anyway. I'll meet you back here in
five."
He leaned close to kiss her cheek. As he brushed his lips across her skin, he
whispered, "I'm dying to know if this is my lucky night."
While she was still reeling from that comment and Eric disappeared into the
crowd, Lexi and Amanda crowded her, hungry for details.
"We couldn't leave without checking on you, girlfriend." Lexi steered Chloe
toward the ladies' room, the age-old safe territory for discussing men.
As they plowed through the smoke-filled women's lounge toward the mirror, Amanda
draped an arm around Chloe's waist. "He's gorgeous, Chloe, but I'd bet my Prada
purse that he's the one who represents turbulence and change like the
fortune-teller said. Are you sure you're ready for that?"
Chloe fluffed her red curls as she stared back at her reflection. "We made a
pact, didn't we?"
Lexi sighed as she withdrew a pick from her evening bag and worked on Chloe's
hair for her. Chloe's family had never so much as kissed their daughter in
public, so Chloe had always appreciated the warmth of her girlfriends' affection
— right down to their fussing over her like Cinderella before a big date.
"We made a pact to force us to be more adventurous, but that doesn't mean we
aren't going to be careful," Lexi admonished. "How well do you know this guy?"
Now there was a loaded question. "Well enough to know he's not my type, but that
he'd never hurt me. We battled it out in court last month and we were both —
intrigued. He's too rich, too blue-blooded, and too much like the rest of the
bottom-line oriented men in my family's world. Since there's no way I could fall
for a guy like that, he's the perfect candidate for my night of daring. Right?"
Amanda and Lexi exchanged glances over Chloe's head. A gesture she hadn't
missed, thanks to the mirror. "That doesn't mean he's going to bring turbulence
and change to my life." Although the little voice in her head argued he'd
already turned her world upside down, intrigued her as much with that sharp mind
of his as with those glorious pecs. But she didn't want to listen to any little
voice that would talk her out of this. She wanted her night of daring, damn it!
"He's just going to spice things up a bit." She shook off Lexi's primping and
straightened her gown. "You guys might not want to follow through on the pact
for adventure, but I do."
After making sure Chloe's cell phone was fully charged and turned on, Lexi and
Amanda said their good-nights. Neither of them had found Mr. Right at the Silk
Masquerade, but Chloe had at least found Mr. Right Now. And for tonight, that
was enough.
No sooner had she emerged from the ladies' room into the club than her gladiator
appeared — bronzed and gorgeous, his heated gaze meant only for her. "Ready?" he
asked her.
A world of meaning communicated to her through that one word. Was she ever. She
wanted to take this adventure to the extreme tonight. "Yes. But I don't want
anything so trite as a 'my place or yours' line. I don't think I can wait that
long to show you that little item you mentioned wanting to see."
His gaze dipped to ease over her breasts, belly, and finally — her thighs.
"Honey, I wouldn't dream of asking you anything so trite. I'm willing to wait
about five minutes to see those garters, so why don't you find the quickest
place I can get you alone."
Eric didn't have to wait long for the lady lawyer to take action.
"Maybe I'm a bit of an over-planner, but I booked a room upstairs so I didn't
have to take a cab across town dressed as the Heart Queen today," Chloe confided
as she tugged him out of the hotel's ballroom and away from the masquerading
revelers. "That might afford us a little privacy."
"Perfect." It would also afford him an opportunity he'd been dreaming about ever
since his first whiff of that flowery perfume of hers. "And let the record show
I commend both your practical nature and your excellent planning, Chloe." Eric
didn't waste any time hitting the "up" button for the nearest elevator.
He just hoped she'd still be interested in him Monday morning when she learned
about his proposed project for the lot next to the historical building she'd
fought so hard to protect in court last month. Chances were her historical
society client wouldn't be thrilled with Eric's new idea for moderately priced
housing units. But even with Chloe heading up their side, they didn't have a
legal leg to stand on to stop Eric from the venture.
As they rode past 10 floors on the way to her suite, Eric assured himself Chloe
would appreciate that their personal lives didn't need to be affected by their
dealings in court. Wouldn't she?
Chloe pushed her way into the darkened suite and turned to beckon him inside.
Eric's breath caught in his throat at her sultry smile, her intentional flick of
her red skirt to flash him a little more leg. No way would he risk tonight by
talking business. Right now, all he only wanted to touch, taste, and breathe was
Chloe Leclaire.
"Come on in." Chloe wondered if that breathy voice really belonged to her.
The light from the hallway spilled into the room behind the silhouette of her
Roman gladiator. As impressive as Eric Matteo looked with the bronze trappings
of his costume accentuating his every muscle, Chloe longed to pull off all his
clothes, to run her finger over hot flesh instead of cool metal.
He stepped over the threshold into the darkness, an act that seemed to commit
her to the turbulence and change the fortune-teller had predicted.
"Can we turn a light on?" Eric asked as the heavy hotel door closed behind him.
"Not yet." There was a certain comfort in the dark. Besides, her room looked
like a tornado had hit it since she'd gotten dressed for the party here earlier.
"In a minute." Right now, she just wanted his hands on her — the sooner the
better.
She could scarcely remember the last time a man had touched her — too long ago,
too unmemorable. If the heat breaking out over all her skin was any indication,
she would remember tonight — and Eric — for a very long time. She only hoped
she'd be able to peel herself and her red garters away from him in the morning.
"Second thoughts?" he whispered, backing her toward the bed as he loomed closer
and closer still.
"Definitely not." She wanted this man more than she'd wanted to win any court
case, which was saying a lot for a woman who'd worked nonstop to carve out her
slot in a prestigious law firm. No matter what Chloe had told her girlfriends,
she was attracted to Eric on more than a physical level. His quick mind on the
witness stand had intrigued her every bit as much as his high stud factor. "I
had to fight my way past a medieval knight and two overprotective historical
queens to be alone with you. I'm not backing down now."
She sensed the heat of his body closing in on hers, breathed the spice of his
aftershave and the smooth potency of the single malt scotch he'd been drinking.
Desire stirred low in her belly, radiated outward to her limbs and tingled every
inch of her body.
He backed her up against the bed until her calves pressed into the mattress. His
chest grazed hers, bronze plate to red satin. Her heart picked up speed to match
her erratic breathing.
Slowly, he pulled off the shirt of his costume, an action Chloe spied in the dim
light filtering under the hotel room door. Muscles rippled in the shadowy
outline of his shoulders, his arms.
"I think you will be backing down." His voice rasped across the spare
inch separating them. "Right about now."
He leaned over her, effectively arching her backward into the soft comfort of
the mattress. He followed her down, his body flush against hers. He steadied his
weight with his arms planted alongside her shoulders. His arousal nudged her
satin-covered hip and inspired a restless, aching hunger between her thighs.
She couldn't answer, couldn't speak. Instead, she settled for threading her
fingers through his hair and pulling him closer to kiss his lips, to caress the
gentle scratch of his five o'clock-shadowed cheeks. Her fingers found the slight
scar high on one cheekbone, and she kissed that, too.
One day, she would ask him about that. But not now. Not when his broad palm
skimmed up her calf and all the way to her thigh. Not when his work-hardened
hands lingered over the top of her silk stocking, or his finger dipped below the
sheer fabric to gently flick free the clasp.
In some recess of her mind she registered that his callused hands seemed at odds
with his financier work. The fingers that brushed away the dangling strap of her
garter lacked the manicured smoothness common in her blue-blooded world.
Something about the man's rough edges sizzled her from the inside out.
She wriggled beneath him, impatient to be free of her dress. Divining her
thoughts as clearly as if she'd spoken the words, Eric unzipped the red satin
gown and slid it down her legs.
"I need to see you." Eric reached above her head to click the bedside lamp on
its lowest setting.
Chloe blinked against the brightness, but the husky tone of Eric's voice assured
her he wasn't going to notice the tornadolike condition of her hotel room right
now.
"Holy hell, Chloe."
His words surprised her, forced her eyelids open. He was staring unabashedly at
her choice of lingerie — a red fishnet teddy with built-in bra she'd picked up
at one of Manhattan's racier retail establishments. "What?"
"You're definitely not as buttoned-up as you look."
"Disappointed?" She walked her fingers down his chest to the waistband of his
pants, then smoothed her hand over his erection, around his hip.
He sucked in a breath and gripped her wandering hand in the vise of his fingers.
"Definitely not."
Accustomed to winning what she wanted, Chloe didn't let her temporary
imprisonment stop her exploration. She merely lifted her hips off the bed to
caress him with another part of her anatomy.
And it didn't take long for her to win her case. Eric's pants hit the floor
along with her panties in record time. Before she could delicately broach the
matter of a condom, he had already rolled one on.
She delighted in her victory, soaring high from the moment he edged himself
inside of her. The heat of his body, the stroke of his tongue over her barely
covered breasts nudged her closer to a level of bliss she'd only dreamed about.
He palmed her belly as he settled deeper within her, reached lower to touch her
pulsing center.
With slow advance and retreat of his touch he teased and enticed her until she
screamed his name with enough volume to wake the whole floor. Eric followed her
— more quietly — but with just as much power.
The endorphins she felt after eating a whole bowl of rocky road ice cream didn't
even come close to the unadulterated ecstasy of her release. But like anything
that delivered that much pleasure, Eric Matteo could prove to be a big mistake.
She'd just bared her body, soul, and maybe even her heart to a man from the
bottom-line-driven, moneyed world that had suffocated her all her life. Could
she really afford to blithely curl into the shelter of his arms and pretend
morning wouldn't come?
Eric had never been given such a gift. The uptown lady lawyer had not only
chosen him over her highbrow old flame earlier tonight, she'd also
fulfilled his every fantasy in her red fishnet teddy and stop-traffic garters.
And, heaven help him, she was inching her way closer again as they sprawled
together in her bed.
He could hardly think straight with a redheaded siren walking her fingers up his
chest and whispering naughty invitations in his ear.
"Our first time was the most fun I've ever had in bed," she admitted as her
questing touch drifted under the sheets. "Care to break that record in Round
Two?"
Hell, yes. The sentiment blared across his conscience, obliterating his
recurring thought that he needed to talk to her, needed to confess the sticky
situation that might arise for them professionally next week. His body had more
important talking to do — as did Chloe's, judging by the way she slid one satiny
leg over his thigh.
But while her one hand slid around his waist, her other caressed his cheekbone,
lingering on the scar that had been there since childhood. He pried an eye open
to find her studying his face with a tender concern that slugged him square in
the gut and awakened his common sense.
"Chloe, wait." He had to tell her about the proposed project for the empty lot
on Broadway, even if it robbed him of his chance to be with her. "We need to
talk."
She frowned, her soft lips puckering into a sexy pout. "Don't tell me we're out
of condoms."
"Actually, I'm as much of an overplanner as you are, and I'm armed for a couple
more go-rounds." His finger itched to touch that sensual mouth, to trace the
curves of an exaggerated Cupid's bow. "But there's a real-world issue I need to
put on the table before we go any further."
If she was worried at his sober tone, her mischievous grin sure didn't give it
away. "I didn't think it was possible to go much further than we've already
been."
He propped himself up on one elbow, bracing himself for possible fall-out. "I
should have told you earlier, Chloe, in the interest of full disclosure. After
failing to put together the deal on the cultural center, I've decided to propose
a different project for the lot next to your historical building." He waited for
her to start throwing his clothes in his face, but she seemed to still be
listening. "This one doesn't involve your client's property in the least. But I
did already file the papers for the necessary permits."
Would she be on the phone to her client before she could even chase him out the
door? Not that he'd leave before he made a few closing arguments of his own.
She stared at him across the pillow, eyes wide. Great, she was probably in
shock, horrified that she'd slept with a guy who withheld information.
"And you think for some reason I wouldn't know this already?" She raised an
auburn eyebrow. "What do I look like, a first year law student? A bad sequel to
Legally Blonde?"
Chloe stared back at Eric, feeling pretty damn pleased with herself for shocking
the socks off him. Her family had expected perfection of her for so long she
wasn't used to being underestimated.
"You knew about this?" He sounded downright skeptical. Foolish man.
"City zoning information is open to the public. Ever since I signed on to
represent the historical society, I've had a law clerk conduct frequent searches
on permit applications in the Broadway area." She shrugged. Seemed like basic
"cover-your-butt" strategy in her book.
But Eric looked at her as though she'd just solved global warming. A fact that
sent an unexpected rush of gratification through her, a gentle pleasure that was
— in its own way — as powerful as the earth-shattering sexual fulfillment he'd
given her an hour ago.
"You're telling me you know I want to put up apartments next door to your
historical building, and you don't care?"
The flow of pleasure slowed. "Of course I care. No doubt we'll be facing off
over this in court again. But don't think I'm going to cut you any slack just
because of tonight."
He lifted both hands in mock surrender. "Maybe I'd better find myself a good
attorney. You might be a little too much for me to handle." His fingers skated
across the blanket to land on her shoulder, and then traced the line of her
collarbone. "In the courtroom, that is. I think I can fend for myself in the
bedroom."
His touch sent shock waves through her, accelerating her pulse and reminding her
she had absolutely nothing on beneath the sheets.
"You'd better get up early in the morning if you're going to find a lawyer to
match wits with me," she teased, allowing her eyes to drift shut in response to
his wandering caress.
"I'm out of luck until Monday." He lifted her hair off her throat and leaned in
to kiss her neck. Thoroughly. "I've got houses to build tomorrow."
Had she just heard him correctly?
"Houses to build?" She scooted herself backward, away from the kiss that
threatened to scramble her thoughts. "You don't have permission to start
building anything on that site yet."
"Not those houses. I do volunteer work with Habitat for Humanity on the
weekends. I've been building houses every Saturday since high school."
Perhaps she looked confused because Eric pantomimed the act of hitting a nail
with a hammer.
"You know, house building. Like a carpenter."
Or like the blue-collar construction worker stud of her dreams. She'd watched
enough soda commercials in her lifetime to buy into the fantasy of a sexy,
sweaty guy in work overalls. Chloe's mouth went dry as she envisioned Eric
Matteo's muscles in a faded T-shirt.
This wasn't sounding very blue-blooded to her at all. In fact, it sounded quite
delicious.
"You mean like with a tool belt?" Chloe clarified. "And tools?" She needed to
get her facts straight before she jumped to conclusions that might put her heart
at risk. "I thought you were as much a part of New York old-money society as
me."
"I'm not." He frowned, his intense eyes darkening until they were almost black.
"Does that matter to you?"
"Having grown up in a house full of people so damn reserved they can't give
their kid a birthday party without consulting the social register, yes, I'd say
it does matter to me. I'm not getting involved in a serious relationship with
any man who puts a lot of importance on those kinds of externals." She was
struck anew by visions of her gladiator in blue jeans. And a tool belt. "But if
you're the down-to-earth kind of guy I'm thinking you might be, this puts a
whole new spin on things."
He reached across the bed and hauled her to him. Tightly. "Meaning a serious
relationship with me is now in the works."
Warmth curled through her, along with an anticipation for something that went
far beyond sex. "It's a possibility."
"It's a done deal, counselor, and don't even think about arguing your way out of
this one." He outlined the curve of her hip with his hand, fitted her to his
arousal by pressing her all the closer.
"I thought I was the Heart Queen tonight," she argued, just because it was fun
to spar with him. She'd secretly enjoyed their courtroom clashes in the past
because he'd been a quick wit and a clever speaker. She had the feeling she was
going to enjoy their personal encounters all the more.
"Then it looks like you've got your work cut out for you to make an uptown girl
fall head over heels in love with a working-class upstart like me."
"I'm a step ahead of the witness, as usual." Chloe combed her fingers through
Eric's dark hair and drew his mouth closer to hers. Her girlfriends would never
believe how wildly successful tonight's manhunting masquerade had been. "That
particular romantic mission has already been completed."
He stared down at her in the half light, looking as dark and dangerous as a
Roman gladiator, as muscle-bound sexy as any construction worker. "Then I'm
going to spend tonight giving you a peek into your future, Chloe, and show you
just how much I'm going to love you right back. Are you game for the adventure
of a lifetime?"
She bit her lip as if really deliberating the question, then flashed him an
innocent smile. "Actually, I made this pact to be a little more daring…."
Eric tackled her to the bed before she could even finish fully provoking him.
And Chloe knew with deep certainty that this man was going to bring the best
kind of turbulence, change — and love — into her life, after all.
The End