Mystery Date

Beth reached the iron gate, then waved, and Margot obviously couldn’t resist one last gibe.

“‘“Will you walk into my parlor?” said the Spider to the Fly.’”

The joke was the last straw for Leigh, and with one defiant glance at Margot, she sucked it up, opened the door and got out of the damned car.

The salt-tinged coastal wind threaded through her hair as she shut the door and put on a smile for Beth as they hugged in greeting.

Margot had gotten out, too, and she embraced Beth, then held her at arm’s length.

“I always did admire your clothes,” Margot said, surveying Beth’s sleek multihued silk dress and her strappy gold sandals.

Beth smiled. “Even though you were a couple years behind me in college, I have to say that I looked up to your sense of style, too.” She turned to Leigh. “So what do you think?”

About fashion? Global politics? The Kardashians? Or about the blindest date ever?

Margot saved her from having to answer. “Sorry about the delay. Dani called about some wedding plans, and we were just going over them with her in the car.”

“Ah, yes. I hear Dani and Riley are having their ceremony on Clint’s ranch.” Beth laughed. “I mean, your ranch, Margot, now that you’re living together.”

Margot shrugged and actually blushed. Yeah, Margot, former queen of singletons, newly crowned empress of blushing.

“You heard right,” she said. “We’re hosting the wedding, and you’ll be invited.”

Then, as if she were a mom dropping off a child who didn’t want to attend a birthday party with evil clowns, Margot scooted around to her side of the car.

“And that’s my cue to scram.” She winked at Leigh. “Have fun, you.”

Beth took Leigh’s arm to lead her up to the open gates, and Margot used her hand as a fake telephone, putting it up to her ear and mouthing, Call me when you’re done!

Leigh widened her eyes at her friend, then turned around to walk with Beth up the driveway. Margot’s car motor revved, then faded as she drove away.

And that was when it became official. This was happening. Mystery date with Mystery Man.

Beth squeezed Leigh’s arm. “So Margot drove you over here?”

“She met me at the Sea Breeze Suites for a girls’ weekend, so yeah. I didn’t need the limo you offered.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question.”

Shoot. “You’re asking if she drove me here because I was cautious about this date?”

“Exactly.” Beth laughed. “But that’s smart, really, to bring along a friend. You can trust me, though.”

“I do trust you.” But the farther they got up the driveway, the more her stomach spun. And the more her body sang with an odd, almost warped thrill.

Her, Leigh Vaughn. She’d never, ever done anything like this before, and she was liking it. A lot.

Beth was clearly trying to put her at ease. “Your date got you everything you requested for dinner, from the ingredients to the cookware.”

All the auction basket had promised was a meal featuring honey. Like Margot, Leigh had been careful in phrasing the notes in her basket, making sure that if she didn’t want the date to go too far, she wouldn’t have to live up to any wickedly spelled-out promises. But if she liked what she saw in Mystery Man and she wanted to go beyond food and give him a real taste of honey...

Every inch of her pulsated.

“How do you know him?” Leigh asked as they got to the top of the driveway, where gnarled bushes lined the lawn and the wind whistled a soft, meandering tune.

Beth had probably been expecting this question, and she launched right into an answer.

“I’m friends with him but also professional associates. Out of pure happenstance, he found my résumé online after college, and now he pays me nicely to take care of his business affairs.”

“Didn’t you get a law degree?”

“Yes, but there are a lot of legal angles to what I do for him. Contracts, boring stuff like that.”

“And who exactly is ‘him’?”

Beth laughed again. “Good try, but that’s all you’re going to get out of me.”

As they arrived at the massive carved wood door, Leigh paused.

“Why is he taking such pains to be a mystery?” she asked, hoping that Beth would at least answer this.

Beth’s smile straightened out as she hesitated, then said, “Your basket was a game, Leigh, and he’s making a countermove, continuing the game. It’s all in fun.”

A game? What kind of man played this way? And what sort of guy could afford a place like this?

She ran her gaze over that door, noticing the iron lion’s-head knocker. “He’s rich. I can tell that much.”

“He’s got a few bucks to spare. Did you run this address through the internet?”

Leigh nodded. The house was owned by a rental property that had led her and her friends to dead ends. “We assumed the place isn’t his.”

“It isn’t. He’s only vacationing.” Beth reached out to open the door, but she hesitated again.

Meanwhile, all Leigh could hear was the sound of her heart boom-boom-booming through her.

Beth spoke, her hand still in midair. “It’ll be a harmless, fun night,” she repeated. “If you go inside with that in mind, you’ll walk away happy.”

Fear—or was it something else?—zinged through Leigh as Beth opened the door, revealing a foyer with a stone floor and a yawning staircase just beyond.

Adventure. That was what Margot would’ve said this was, and as Leigh’s pulse went wild, she craved it as she’d never craved anything else in her life.

She had a good figure now. She’d been told she was actually pretty after all that weight had come off.

It was time to make the most of what she’d never had.

She stepped across the threshold, breathing in, out, trying to keep her heart in her chest.

As Beth closed the door behind them, Leigh heard a voice just beyond the foyer, to the left.

“Good to see you here, Leigh.”

A deep, dark tone.

Leigh’s adrenaline pushed her forward. She wanted to see him. Wanted to know who had paid $5,000 for the pleasure of her company.

But when she rounded the corner, she came to a halt, surprised as hell at what she found.

2

LEIGH HAD EXPECTED to find him, Mystery Man, standing there with a saucy grin on his face.

But all she discovered was an antique table holding a small wire stand that propped up a smartphone. Next to it was her auction basket; it was open, exposing blue-and-white-gingham lining, plus the jars of honey she had labeled with each course idea for this date.

Looking at the inside of that basket, she felt as if this man had already undone part of her, like a button on her shirt.

She shivered, especially when he spoke again.

“You took a while to get up here, Leigh.”

When she answered him, she tried to control her voice. “Fashionably late, right?”

There had only been a bit of a quaver in her words. Not bad.

“Better you come late than never coming at all,” he parried.

Leigh didn’t know whether to laugh or melt into a stunned pool of sighs. Had he just tossed a sexual innuendo her way? And did he have any idea how twisted this was? How...

God, how kind of, sort of...okay...absolutely intriguing?

She sneaked a glance back at Beth, sending her a nonverbal message. Seriously? Talking to me through a speaker is part of the date?

Beth smiled. This is just the beginning. Then she walked toward the table and picked up the phone. “How about a quick tour of the place before we head to the kitchen?”

They were trying to get her settled. Not a bad idea, although Leigh wondered if she would ever feel relaxed tonight.

“Sounds good,” she said.

She followed Beth back through the foyer and past the grand staircase, all the while keeping her eye on that phone in Beth’s hand.

The parlor, or living room, or whatever superrich people called a place like this, was just as expansive as the staircase and foyer. It boasted a wall-wide view of the beach below, the waves rolling toward the shoreline as the sun kept descending. The furnishings reminded Leigh of a leather-, cherrywood-and brass-filled museum.

“How old is this house?” she asked just to make conversation since the phone had been silent.

Mystery Man’s voice answered. “It’s not as ancient as it seems. It was built to look like old money, but it hasn’t been around for more than thirty years.”

“I was hoping you’d tell me something like it’s been in your family since the Dark Ages. But among other things, I know you don’t live here.”

As the voice on the phone laughed, even Beth seemed tickled that Leigh was still attempting to unearth information.

Maybe Beth had been right: enjoy the night for what it was, because it sure seemed as if Mr. Millionaire had the means to give her a decadent date. And how many times had she been on one of those?

Sure, she was used to living a better lifestyle now with her show and all. But her date had flown her down here, then offered to put her up in a high-class hotel, which she had refused because it had seemed like too much. He seemed to be pretty free with his money.

As Leigh walked around the room, touching the grand piano by the window, then running her hand along the top of the long curved brass-backed sofa, she pictured a man who might go along with the voice. Secretive mogul? Billionaire cowboy?

“Does it bother you,” he asked, “that I might know more about you than you know about me?”

“I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t.” And she’d be lying if she said that it didn’t do something to her in a deep, shady place that she’d always repressed. This game he was playing was almost like voyeurism, where he could see her but she couldn’t see him.

There was some power in knowing that he was interested in her enough to have singled her out, wasn’t there? It was kinky, and made her feel a little audacious. Lord knows, she’d never been audacious with a man before.

She stopped at a vintage brass-trimmed minibar, inspecting it. “What exactly do you know about me?”

“We could start with the superficial,” he said. “You’ve got a cooking show, but before that you were a personal gourmet chef who spent some time in Nashville working for a few country-singing stars. One of them gave you enough clout to get that show of yours going.”

“You’ve done some homework on me.”

As they talked, Beth strolled out of the room, leading Leigh to the staircase. It was as if the woman was a butler or maid of sorts in an old black-and-white suspense movie—there but not quite there, silent as a shadow in candlelight.

“Believe it or not, Leigh,” he said, “your life is an open book.”

Right on Beth’s heels, Leigh climbed the stairs slowly, trailing her hand along the polished wood banister. “Why do you say that? What else do you know about me?”

Thud, went her boot on a stair. Thud, on another. Just like loud, body-shaking heartbeats.

“At Cal-U,” he said, “you were a home-economics major. You were on the board for Rodeo Days each year and on the dean’s list, among other honors.”

“And?”

His laugh traveled over the air, infiltrating her.

“And I know everything that’s on your biography page for the show’s website.”

Leigh almost missed a step as she came to the top of the stairs to a long hallway lit by iron wall sconces and lined with an Oriental rug.

How much did this man know about her? How deep had his research gone?

She tried not to think about painful things, like her struggle to love herself her entire life. Or...

Leigh took a breath. Or like her sister, Hannah, who’d died in a swimming accident before Leigh had even gotten out of high school. Hannah, who always was and would be the perfect child in the eyes of their parents.

Beth was waiting for her at the end of the hallway, which featured a huge circular stained-glass window. She had a concerned look on her face as she watched Leigh, probably wondering if she was so thrown off-balance by this setup that she was about to flee.

But Leigh merely gave her a grin, then kept walking toward the window, which depicted a blue rose surrounded by white panels that resembled shards of ice.

As she surveyed its beauty, she said, “It’s too bad you don’t actually live here, Mystery Man. The furnishings might’ve told me something about you.”

A drawn-out pause made her chest beat with an anxious rhythm. Was he thinking about telling her his name?

When his voice came back on the line, it was warmer, as if he did know her beyond a superficial biography.

“You can call me Callum,” he said. “That should do for now.”

Callum. Now it was easier to picture a face—a dark-haired man with wild locks and eyes as blue as the stained-glass rose. A guy who belonged in a Gothic mansion—one who matched this voice.

She went stiff between her legs, her pulse throbbing there. She was truly into this game now, and wondering what the night would bring only pumped her up more.

Beth had been staring at the blue rose, as if she felt uncomfortable being a part of this private discussion between her friend and her fellow sorority sister.

But all Leigh could think was Callum. Even if the name he’d given her was fake—which it probably was—she was genuinely hoping the rest of the date could begin now.

She took the phone from Beth, smiling at her with another clear message.

I can take it from here.

Beth didn’t show any emotion, just gave a polite smile and left Leigh alone with her Mystery Man.

When Beth had gone down the stairs, the front door shutting behind her, Leigh finally spoke.

“Callum,” she said, “can I start cooking now?”

* * *

ADAM DIDN’T GO near Leigh until she told him she was ensconced in the kitchen.

He was fairly certain she had no idea that he was nearby, in a darkened alcove that overlooked the cooking area from above. He wondered if she would be freaked out to realize he was within such close proximity of her...or if she would be just as stimulated as he was by this next move in the game that had started with her auction basket.

She had propped the disposable phone on a stand that had been waiting on one of the marble counters along with the high-end cooking accessories he’d had delivered. When Beth had arranged the date, Adam had insisted on stocking up on supplies instead of having Leigh do it, and he hoped he’d gotten everything she needed.

It looked as if he’d done well, though. She was smiling as she inspected the dry ingredients while standing at the kitchen island under the pots and pans hanging above it.

The auction basket stood in the center of the island. Even so, everything seemed to revolve around Leigh, not the basket. She was more beautiful than she was on TV, her blond hair shiny and long as it trailed down her back, pinned away from her face with a simple barrette she’d pulled from her jeans pocket. And dressed in those sexy country clothes, she had his imagination running on all cylinders, pushing steam through him until he felt ready to burst in several key places.

But tonight didn’t feel like a tawdry encounter. It felt good just to look at her, be near her. Somehow, looking made the numbness he’d experienced for over two years go away, even just temporarily.

Looking at her brought back a time before his life had crashed down all around him, not just once with his dad’s death but twice with his wife’s.

Leigh seemed content to play along with his setup as she washed her hands, then dried them.

He spoke into his own disposable cell phone and leaned back against a wall, not moving, never giving himself away.

“How about you open up that honey wine that’s still in the fridge?”

She glanced at the phone, and for a moment he felt a little envious that it was getting all the attention, not “Callum,” the name he’d given her. It’d been his paternal grandfather’s name and safe enough that it wouldn’t provide a strong connection if she should pop it into a computer to do some research on him.

“That wine’s for after dinner,” she said, moving over to the fridge and taking out a bottle of Chardonnay. “But I like a nip or two of the drier stuff while I’m cooking, so don’t mind if I do.”

“You don’t drink on your show.”

“Producer’s choice. They don’t want to encourage reckless cooking.”

She smiled as she poured herself a glass, then lifted it in a toast.

“To you, wherever you are.”

She tipped her glass to all four corners of the room, and when she got to where he was hidden, he went even stiller than before, as if she had somehow discovered him.

But that was ridiculous. And it was heart-poundingly exciting to feel as if he’d almost gotten caught.

She took a sip, then set down the glass, reaching for one of her honey jars and unscrewing the lid. He knew that she was going to give him his money’s worth with some corn bread, a salad, balsamic honey–glazed lamb chops, spicy honey-roasted cauliflower and, ultimately, a honeycomb cake.

An impetuous thought kicked him: What would she do if he appeared down there by her side to eat dinner with her?

The notion made his chest feel as if it had closed right up. He wouldn’t be showing himself. He liked this so-called date as it was—flirting, seduction by shadow, no responsibilities in the end, just as if he were on the computer having yet another virtual encounter.

Maybe, as Beth said, he was warped.

Leigh had turned on the oven and was now greasing a pan for the bread.

“So what’s with you and Beth?” she said, a lilt in her voice.

She was flirting with him. He couldn’t be wrong about that, because little by little, as she had taken a tour of this house, he’d sensed her warming up to his voice.

“Beth is a friend—” he started to say.

“I know, I know.” She put the bread pan aside and cleaned her hands. “Friends and professional associates. But she’s a beautiful woman, too. Don’t you ever...?”

His shields went up at the mere suggestion of a romantic relationship with anyone. “No. Never.”

Leigh’s posture stiffened.

Recovering, he said, “First, Beth is like a big sister to me. Second, she’s not into my type.”

Leigh seized on that. “What type is that?”

He smiled at her perseverance. “Men.”

Leigh’s mouth formed an O. But then she went right back to cooking, measuring flour in a cup and dumping it into the bowl. “That’s funny, because when Beth showed up at the auction and bid on my basket, everyone thought...you know...that she was bidding on me.”

“Under any other circumstances, that could’ve been the case. But she considers herself unlucky in love and hasn’t been serious about anyone for a while. There’s just too much work to do for me, she says. Supposedly, the hours she puts in make it hard to find a meaningful relationship.”

“You sound like quite a taskmaster.”

“I’m not the one who keeps her at her desk overtime. She’s a workaholic.”

By now Leigh had poured the cornmeal into the bowl. “You met her back in college? When you were a Phi Rho Mu brother and she was a Tau Epsilon Gamma sister?”

Leigh sure wasn’t shy about digging for information, no matter how many brick walls she ran into.

“We crossed paths briefly at Cal-U.” He wasn’t going to tell Leigh that Beth had been born and raised in a town near his and that he’d met her only once at a party during pledging but had found her résumé online later.

That had been five years ago, just after he’d gotten married.

After adding sugar and baking powder to the bowl, Leigh asked, “What were you like in school?”

“You really think I’m going to answer that?”

“I had to give it a shot.” She laughed and made a well in the center of the dry ingredients. Every move captured his attention, enchanting him, especially with that country-girl blouse she was wearing—the one that gave him a tempting peek of cleavage and tanned stomach.

“Do you have black hair?” she asked. “Because that’s how I’m picturing you. A very Callum-like dark Irish guy, like Riley Donahue but a bit more roguish. Remember Riley? Nice guy, ag-business major?”

“I heard through the grapevine that he’s engaged to Danielle Hughes.”

“See, you were around the university when I was.”

He didn’t confirm or deny. “You’ve got the color of my hair right, at least. I’ll give you that much.”

“Good. Sounds like I’m finally getting somewhere.”

Her happiness made him want to give her more, but he would no doubt regret giving her too much.

She was on a roll, though. “What do you do for a living?”

“I invite women over to rental houses and watch them cook. It’s a fetish.”

She really laughed at that, and he realized that she was sincerely enjoying herself.

And him. And this date. She wasn’t afraid of either one. In fact, he was bringing joy to a woman when he hadn’t done so for a long, long time, and he was doing it with only his voice.

But, again, this whole thing was temporary, and he had to keep that in mind.

After her laugh trailed off, a seemingly endless pause reigned. Was it because she realized that he’d used the word fetish? She’d given him a similar hesitation earlier when he’d laid that opening line on her—a thinly veiled allusion to coming.

But he’d only been testing her when she’d entered the house, seeing how much she was going to take from him. He’d probably been doing the same thing just now, too. Hell, he’d even been doing it during the house tour when he had told her what he knew about her. He could’ve pushed her further by mentioning her deceased sister, but he hadn’t wanted to bring up any ghosts like Hannah. And certainly not his wife, Carla.

Was he trying to unnerve Leigh, getting her to leave before she could decide to do so on her own?

But she was still here, stirring heavy cream, vegetable oil, honey and eggs into that bowl.

She said, “You know what’s funny about this date?”

Besides everything? “What?”

“It’s not that you’re talking to me on a phone or that you’re playing around with me by not showing yourself. It’s a cat-and-mouse game, and believe it or not, I get that.”

“So what’s so funny?”

She poured the batter into the pan. “Do you ever think that it’s easier to talk to someone you can’t see?”

He narrowed his gaze, hoping she’d go on.

She didn’t disappoint. “A few years ago there was a vendor I used for my produce. We used to talk on the phone all the time for business. But then our talks started to get...”

“Suggestive?” It was almost a whisper.

“Yeah. But only mildly.” She stopped pouring and looked at the phone, as if it truly were him. “Our talking never went anywhere, and all I knew of him was his voice. But somehow I felt like he knew a part of me that no one else did, just because nobody else had ever made me feel like he did before, merely by chatting with me.”

“How did he make you feel?”

She thought about it for a moment, then said, “As if I might be able to suggest something to him that I would never say in person, if that makes any sense. I never did that, though. After he shut down his business, I never talked to him again.”

As she put the pan in the oven, he thought he saw a yearning on her face that was so acute he wanted to make it go away.

It was at that moment he knew there were a lot of stories Leigh could tell him, a lot of mysteries about her that he’d like to solve.

Had he fallen in love—or lust—at first sight with her back in college at that party? Or maybe he was a fool who could indulge that lost sentimental part of him only here, in the near darkness.

Either way, he wanted more.

“When do you need to leave town?” he asked without thinking.

She’d been wiping off the counter, and she stopped. “I’m on hiatus from my show....”

As she let the words hang, he got the feeling that she just might be open to coming back for a second date if the rest of the night went well...if he didn’t put any pressure on her and they merely had dinner, with him still at a distance, still playing the game.