A Dash of Temptation

“I believe you.”

“Okay, then.” She finished off her martini, then handed him the empty glass. “I did want to say again how much this means to me. It’s way over and above the call of duty. You’re helping me big time.”

“No thanks necessary. I’m getting as much out of this as you are.”

“Which is something I don’t fully understand.”

“Not much to understand. I get to escort a beautiful lady to a party.”

“Yeah, uh-huh.”

His grin turned a little sheepish. “Okay, so there’s a bit more. All those pictures you see of me smiling? That’s work. And it’s not easy work. Not that I’m complaining. I know I’m the luckiest sonofabitch in the world, but still. It’s not easy to be happy twenty-four-seven.”

“So you don’t have to work tonight?”

“Not in the same way. If I was with, say, an actress or a model, there would be speculation, constant photos, questions, innuendoes. With you, they’ll be curious, of course, but not rabid.”

“So I’m not going to appear on the cover of People?”

“Most likely not,” he said. “Are you disappointed?”

“Crushed.”

His grin faded. “I—”

She touched his arm. “I was kidding. I’m very happy to be whatever you need me to be tonight. Honestly.”

His gaze moved down to his arm, where her hand touched his sleeve.

She knew she should take it back, let him go, but she felt frozen. It was absurd, but she could swear she felt his heat. Impossible through shirt and coat. It hadn’t started out as an intimate gesture, but it had turned into one. Stoked by his gaze, the heat spread through her. And still, she didn’t move her hand.

“That could get a little tricky,” he said, his voice lower, huskier than just a moment before.

“What could?”

“You being whatever I need you to be.”

“Oh.”

He leaned toward her and she held her breathe. He was going to kiss her. Oh, God. But he stopped short, inches away from her lips. His breath, a ridiculously intoxicating blend of scotch and spearmint, slipped inside her. “Very tricky,” he whispered. And then his lips touched hers.

Before she could even close her eyes, he was gone. She blinked, tried to remember how to breathe.

He cleared his throat. Tugged his cuffs down. Looked out the window, at the moon roof, at the bar. Finally, at her. His frown surprised her. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“There are no strings attached to this evening. I apologize.”

“Don’t worry on my account.” She gasped the second the words were out of her mouth.

He laughed, but not at her. Not making fun. In fact, the sound made her feel a fraction less foolish. “Okay, so at least we know one thing.”

“That I need to learn to keep my big mouth shut?”

“No. That we’re both a little nervous about tonight.”

“I can understand me, but not you.”

“I’m always a little nervous around a beautiful woman.”

She nearly made a smart remark, but something stopped her. His eyes, or maybe his hint of a smile. Something made her entertain the idea that he could be telling the truth. That he thought she was beautiful.

She wasn’t a hag or anything, but please. She was just Tess. Ten pounds overweight, ugly nails, hair that looked like it was done in a blender. Not Nicole or Meg or Julia. She was a hick from Tulip, that’s all. And he was the most sophisticated, debonair man on planet Earth.

Which, of course, explained it. He was working tonight. Despite his protests. He couldn’t help it. When you seduce women for a living, it must come naturally, like breathing or sleeping. So it would be wise not to let her imagination run away with her.

This wasn’t a coach, he wasn’t a prince, and she sure as hell wasn’t Cinderella.

“Tess.”

She focused on him with a start. She’d been far away in the land of insecurity. “Yes?”

“No matter the reason. Favor to you, favor to me. Whatever. I’m glad I’m here, now, with you.”

She smiled as warmly as she could, but she wasn’t fooled this time. He was the embodiment of a smooth operator. A man so suave he made Cary Grant seem like an oaf. Of course he was going to flatter her. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m glad, too.”

If ever there was a Man To Do, Dash Black was him. Never, not in a million years, would he become a Man To Marry. Not to her, at least. Never to her.

4

SHE DIDN’T ACTUALLY SEE the house for a long time. The gate had come first, ornate wrought iron with an incongruously hi-tech security box on the driver’s side. Then it was like riding through a park. An extraordinarily well-kept park. Manicured lawns. A rogue blade of grass wouldn’t dare show up there, let alone a weed. The trees, all native to this part of the country, were stately and thick, providing ample shade for their flowered skirts.

A full-time staff would be essential in keeping this gorgeous lawn so pristine, and she wondered about the budget. They probably spent a fortune on fresh flowers and plants for the house, too. Whoever had the account must be doing very well.

Dash shifted beside her, and her thoughts of plants and bank accounts fled. He’d been quiet since the kiss, in deference to her, she thought. Someone more savvy would probably have played the moment better. Teased him. Chastised him. But her famous aplomb had deserted her, and no soothing thoughts or distractions could bring it back.

“Have you been out here before?”

She didn’t jump when he spoke, and that was a bonus. “No, I haven’t. It’s stunning.”

“This house used to belong to one of the Duponts,” he said. “It’s got twenty-two bedrooms, not counting the guest house.”

“Well, that’s got to be a pain to vacuum.”

His laughter eased her somewhat. However, his proximity— They weren’t touching. But there was only enough space between them for one hand. If she let hers fall, she’d touch him, and that wasn’t smart.

She tried to think what her friends would do. Erin would tell her to wait. Samantha would tell her to go for it. Neither option felt right. There was a whole evening to get through, and she couldn’t afford to fall apart. Cullen would be watching her. Not to mention Brad and the Bitch.

Lacey. What a piece of work. Her nose was so far in the air it was amazing she didn’t constantly walk into walls. And that smile—

“Tess?”

She turned to Dash. Smiled. “Yes?”

“Where did you go?”

“Actually, I was thinking about Lacey Talbot.”

His expression hardened, which made Tess like him even more. “She’s an interesting young woman.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“Don’t pay any attention to her,” he said, as he leaned over to place his glass back in the bar. “She has issues.”

Tess couldn’t help but giggle. She hated to giggle. Hers was all girly, making her feel too young to handle her job let alone this date. Sort of date. Whatever.

“But I will warn you. The way you look tonight, you’re going to set her on edge.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. I told you before, you’re stunning.”

She held her breath for a moment, then let it out slowly. It didn’t mean anything. How could it? But she steadied her gaze and said, “Thank you,” just like her mother had taught her.

He looked at her quizzically, but said nothing, then his gaze moved forward and he nodded. “The palace.”

She turned to see lights. Lots of lights. The house, which did actually remind her of a palace, was bathed in white, and the long trail of parking lights from the limos in front of them reminded her of a red carpet.

She’d never seen a home like this. If it was even called a home. Estate, maybe. Or mansion. By any other name it was huge and she felt every year of her Tulip, Texas, education bite her in the ass. This was a mistake.

“If we get separated inside, just set off a flare. I should find you in two or three days.”

She smiled, although it didn’t seem like much of a joke. “I can’t imagine this. It’s like going to the moon.”

“Kay Nickleby has an eating disorder that’s sent four shrinks back to the minors. Her daughter, Phoebe, is a card-carrying kleptomaniac who once tried to steal one of Princess Diana’s tiaras. Not to mention William, who has been kicked out of every prep school on the east coast. Roger Nickleby is having his day with the SEC, and I expect he’ll be spending a large part of his fortune before he’s through.”

“So, you’re telling me it’s better to be poor?”

He frowned. “Hell no. I’m saying wackos come in every tax bracket.”

She had to smile. “What about you? Are you a wacko?”

He nodded. “Oh, yeah.”

The limo slowed to a stately crawl as they inched up the drive. Doormen stood at the ready, offering steady hands to extravagantly dressed women as they stepped out of their coaches.

Tess’s heart picked up its pace. She ran her fingers through her hair, then pulled her compact from her purse. After a brief dusting of translucent powder and a refresh with her lip gloss, she turned to Dash. “It’s show time.”

“Don’t worry. You’re going to knock ’em dead.”

“Frankly, I’m more worried about tripping on the stairs.”

He touched her hand. “I’ll be there. Don’t sweat it.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

Then her door swung open, and a dark hand helped her to the curb. Dash was at her side a few seconds later, and when she felt his arm curl around her waist, she felt her shoulders relax.

All relaxation fled as they approached the steps. A small cadre of photographers spread around them, the flashbulbs making her squint.

“Dash, over here.”

“Who’s the babe?”

“Smile.”

The shouts were good-natured, but insistent, and she felt utterly out of her element. Dash’s arm tightened around her but his body felt loose and easy. This wasn’t a big deal to him, of course, and she tried to adopt his casual air. Unsuccessfully, as it turned out.

A photographer breached the tacit space agreement and popped up inches from her shoulder. “Hey, babe!”

When she turned, he snapped her picture, blinding her with the flash, and she stumbled on the step. Dash held on to her, although it was a near thing, and his hold tightened as he straightened her up. She couldn’t see his face, but she felt him tense like a bow string. Their pace changed into a quick march past the reporters and past the reception line until they were safely inside. He didn’t let her go, though.

“Are you all right?”

She nodded. The black dot that was her vision dimmed and his features came into focus. “That was interesting.”

“Whoever that jackass was, he’s not going to be around for long. I’m sorry that had to happen to you.”

“It’s okay. He just scared me a little. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.” He relaxed a bit as he smiled. “But you will be as soon as I can make my way to the bar. Another apple martini?”

“That would be nice.”

“Stay right here. I’ll return in a trice.”

His hand disappeared from the small of her back and took some measure of confidence with it. She watched him walk into the large room to her right, skimming past women in Versace and Prada and men in Armani tuxedos, all of them perfectly coifed, smiling with even white teeth, holding drinks with their manicured hands.

Dash caused a remarkable stir. Everyone looked at him and either smiled broadly or moistened red lips, depending on the gender. Conversations broke midsentence. Men stepped back, stood up straighter. It unsettled her. She’d realized she’d be on display, but her imagination hadn’t been up to the task. Being in the company of Dash Black had its price.

She didn’t envy him this. How difficult to always be at the center. It was as if he’d run a gauntlet of starving beggars, and he was a juicy steak. Even from this distance, perhaps because of the distance, she could feel the pull on him. They all wanted something.

Was she any different? Sure, he’d asked her to this shindig, but still, hadn’t she been doing the happy dance because she’d be with him? Didn’t she fully expect the world to react to her differently?

Man, she needed a drink after that sobering thought. She inhaled deeply, trying to dispel some of her nervousness. As she let the breath go, she realized the focus of the crowd in the foyer had switched from Dash to her. Her first instinct was to hide. If she’d known where the bathroom was, she would have run. But Dash would be back soon, and then things would be all right.

The stares wouldn’t quit. People were undoubtedly curious about who she was, but at least when Dash was next to her, he ran interference.

Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. Her jaw was starting to ache from holding her smile in place. Where was he?

A painting on the far wall caught her attention. She’d hardly registered her surroundings, which was astonishing considering the room. It was a foyer, and it was larger than her apartment. The floor was marble, the walls eggshell, and the décor screamed money.

The painting in question was a Monet, and she’d be willing to bet the house that it was real. No regular prints for the Nicklebys. Every piece, from the secretary under the mirror to the wall sconces were perfect and gorgeous. And so were the flower arrangements.

She headed over to the nearest pedestal, one of six that lined the room. Whoever did the flowers was a master. They were gorgeous and lush and perfectly suited that space. The central focus was calla lilies, her personal favorite, and the way the florist had used the stargazers was nothing short of exquisite.

“I should have known that’s where you’d be.”

She turned at Dash’s voice. “They’re fabulous.”

“Certainly no more beautiful than the arrangements at the office.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“I’m counting on it.”

She flushed a little at his rejoinder as he handed her the martini. He’d gotten himself a drink, too, more of what he’d had in the limo from the looks of it. “This house is amazing.”

He looked around. “There is a certain art to ostentation, isn’t there?”

“Indeed.”

He took a sip of his drink and met her gaze. “Think you’re ready for the ballroom?”

“Why not?”

He held out his arm. “Let’s do it.”

She linked her own arm with his, praying her trembling wouldn’t spill her drink all over the floor. They headed toward the sound of live music and the murmur of a great many voices. She sipped her martini a little too quickly, but dammit, she needed the courage.

The second they passed the doorway, she was struck still at the size and scope of the party. The music she’d heard was from an honest to God big band, like Tommy Dorsey’s or the Eddy Duchin Orchestra from the forties. They began “Moonlight Serenade” as Dash guided her through the beautiful people.

The ballroom itself reminded her of the one from Beauty and the Beast, including the domed ceiling. Hundreds of sparkling lights dotted the dome and it felt as though it was raining stars.

“Wow,” she said.

“I know what you mean.”

She caught the humor in his voice and sure enough, when she looked at him he wore a gentle smile. “It must be old hat for you.”

He shrugged. “Being with you is remarkably refreshing. It’s like seeing the place for the first time.”

“I’m glad I can keep you entertained.”

“Oh, there’s no problem with that. In fact…” he plucked her martini out of her hand and put it, along with his drink, on the tray of a passing waiter. “…come with me.”

His arm went around her waist again, and nope, the last time hadn’t been a fluke. Her tummy did that strange little dance and her breath caught as the heat of him warmed her.

He led her to the dance floor, and the panic rose again. She was about as good at dancing as she was at bullfighting. The band was playing another Glen Miller song, “String of Pearls,” and the other couples on the dance floor swayed easily to the music. Maybe if you’re rich enough, you could buy rhythm.

Dash grabbed her hand and swung her into his arms. They touched from chest to thighs, but by the time she opened her mouth to tell him she couldn’t dance, they were.

His hand on the small of her back steered her with gentle caresses. Moving with incredible grace, he made it seem so easy. When she didn’t step on his feet after the refrain, she relaxed. As much as she could, that is.

She smiled into his handsome face, and he rewarded her with a grin and a slight lift of his right brow. “You okay?”

“Yes,” she said. “But don’t get all excited and start doing a tango or anything.”

“I promise. No tangos.”

She thought of that film, The American President, when Annette Benning dances with Michael Douglas for the first time. When he tells her everyone in the room isn’t looking at him, but at her.

If Tess didn’t look around, she’d be okay. Of course it was no hardship to keep her gaze on Dash. The longer she stared at him, the more she liked his face. The more real he became.

They danced as if they’d danced a hundred times before, as if the music was made to order. He held her close enough for her to catch his spicy hint of cologne.

“So, what do you think, Ms. Norton? Is the ball to your liking?”

She thought a minute, wanting to get her answer right. “It’s a nice place to visit, but I’m not sure I’d want to live here.”

He smiled. “No one really lives here. Even the Nicklebys are putting on the dog. It’s a fantasy.”

“Like our date?”

“On the contrary. It may have started out as a favor, but it’s turning into my lucky night.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think you’re going to be that lucky.”

His laughter pleased her way too much. “Touché.”

“I am grateful, though.”

His smile faded. “You don’t think I’m expecting anything in return, do you?”

“I don’t know. I barely know you.”

“Good point. Rest assured. I expect nothing.”

She struggled to keep the disappointment from her face. “Thank you.”

The song ended, but he didn’t let her go. They stood, his hand still on her back, while couples shuffled around them. “Don’t look now,” he whispered, leaning in so only she could hear. “But there’s Cullen.”

She instantly tensed as she followed his gaze. Cullen stood by one of the bars, the one farthest from the band. He looked elegant and easy in his tuxedo. She’d met him only once before, and that was at a crowded restaurant. He’d seemed pleasant enough, but he hadn’t been terribly interested in her. His willingness to look at her business plan was more of a favor to Brad than due to any excitement on his part.

He sipped some champagne as he canvassed the room. She watched him nod to a burly fellow, then again to a startlingly tall woman in a see-through blouse.

Tess figured he must be in his sixties. He had a thick mane of white hair with bushy matching brows. She wondered if he even remembered that they were supposed to meet here.

“Come on,” Dash said.

“Wait.”

“Okay.”

She took a deep breath. “No. Let’s go.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “No time like the present.”

“You’re going to knock his socks off.”

“Oh, my God.”

Dash led her slowly through the crowd. He could feel her tremble beneath his hand, but he doubted anyone could see her nervousness. She had handled this trip into the twilight zone with aplomb. He could see why she’d been so successful with her plant company.

Naturally, he’d done some checking on her. No need to be foolish, not in his position. Aside from the fact that Patrick liked her, the other recommendations he’d gotten had been glowing.

He didn’t know Brad well, but the man was a fool. If it wasn’t so impossible, he’d make a play for her himself. Not just for tonight, either. He’d like to get to know her, spend time with her. She was bright and witty and he liked the fact that she wasn’t part of his crowd. Which was the problem. She didn’t belong to his world. On a personal level, that meant nothing to him. Professionally, however, it was a different story.

Cullen was watching a busty blonde drink champagne, his gaze on her cleavage. Typical Cullen. The man had made some wise investments when a great many others had chosen poorly. His net worth was in the hundreds of millions. He did the venture capital bit because he enjoyed it. He liked to take risks on people, and he was rarely wrong. He was going to love Tess.

“Mr. Cullen?”

He looked up, slightly annoyed at being disturbed, but when he saw Tess he smiled. “Hello there.”

“I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m Tess Norton. I met you a few weeks ago at Le Cirque.”

His eyes narrowed. Dash knew he was drawing a blank.

“Jeez, Cullen, I hope you’re investments are stronger than your memory.”

“Dash Black, you scoundrel.” Jim held out his hand, and Dash shook it firmly.

“I am a scoundrel indeed. But then, it takes one to know one.”

Cullen laughed, then slid his gaze back to Tess.

“Tess was telling me that you’re going to look at her business plan. I can see age hasn’t dulled your good sense.”

“So you’re with Dash, eh?” Cullen asked Tess. “I should be worried about that. He’s got something of a reputation.”

“We’re friends.” Tess took a step away from him, and Dash sensed something wrong, although he couldn’t imagine what.

“Friends?” Cullen’s eyebrows rose with a hint of a leer. “He has good taste.”

“Thank you. I just wanted to mention that you should have my business plan at your office on Monday. I appreciate you taking the time to look at it.”

“It’s all numbers,” he said. “I don’t invest to lose money.”

“Of course not. I think you’ll find I’ve put together a solid proposal.”

He studied her more carefully. “I’ll give you my honest appraisal, Ms. Norton. That’s all I can promise.”

She smiled, and Dash knew she had him. “That’s all I ask.”

“We’ll be in touch.”

Dash slapped Cullen on the back. “Good to see you, Jim. I’m sure you’ll understand why I’m going to steal Tess away?”

“Lucky man.”

“I am that, also.”

Cullen laughed, then started searching for the breasts he’d found so appealing before their interruption.

Dash found Tess’s hand and led her back toward the dance floor. Once they were well clear of Cullen, she pulled him to a stop.

“Mr. Black.”

He frowned. “We’re back to Mr. Black?”

“All right, Dash. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but you didn’t need to do that.”

“Do what? Shake hands with an old friend?”

“I could have handled it myself.”

“I know. You were doing great. My intention wasn’t to interfere. Just to grease the wheels a bit.”

She looked at him with puzzled eyes. “I should be thrilled. I am thrilled. It’s just that…”

“You wanted to do this on your own.”

“Yes.”

“You did. You have. I’m just window dressing. If the man likes your proposal, it won’t have a thing to do with me. That’s not how Cullen works.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“I am. However, I apologize. I should have kept my big nose out of your affairs.”

“No, no. That’s not—I mean, I’m glad. I don’t mind. Really. You were great.”

Dash caught sight of a small woman with big diamonds. In addition to the sparklers on her wrist and neck, she also had possession of one Brad Sunderland. Lacey Talbot had arrived, and in style, too, from what he could see. Her entourage surrounded her like secret service agents. Lacey turned his way, and her eyes widened as she spied his date. A second later, Brad had a similar reaction.

Dash smiled as he looked into Tess’s beautiful eyes. “Perhaps I can make it up to you,” he whispered. Then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her like there was no tomorrow.

5

WHEN DASH’S MOUTH suddenly claimed hers she gasped roughly into the kiss; a hot, sinfully skillful tongue filled her and stroked the arched, sensitive vault of her mouth. The rawness, the heat, the unexpected invasion of wet and breath made Tess want to cry out with pleasure, but the sound of her desire came out as a strangled cry.