Otherwise Engaged

“Is that the same roommate who dared you to run an ad in the Personals?”

“Yes.”

“I want to talk to her,” Nick said.

“Fine. She has an office on Wall Street.”

IN SPITE OF THE air-conditioning, the inside of the taxi seemed stuffy and warm. And silent. Tyler was grateful for that. She needed a moment to focus. To think of some explanation for what Nick had discovered about Richard.

There had to be one. But she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what it could be. Because the man sitting only a foot or so away from her was distracting her. That kiss they’d just shared…the heat that had flowed through her, the wanting that it had left in its wake—No, she wasn’t going to let herself think about it now. She had to concentrate on Richard, the man she’d agreed to marry in eight days. Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath and tried to center herself. In a moment, the weakness would pass. She’d worked hard to develop willpower and control, and it would serve her now.

The driver leaned on the horn as he aimed the taxi suddenly into the left lane. When he slammed on the brakes, Tyler made a quick grab for the handle, but she wasn’t in time to keep herself from sliding against Nick. She planted both hands against his chest just as he gripped her arms, and they were in the same position they’d been in when he’d kissed her in the park. Her response was immediate; she felt the heat pour through her, along with the knowledge. All either one of them had to do was close the small distance, and it would happen again. That sharp bright whip of desire, the dazzling spiral of pleasure. She knew now what was waiting for her. And she felt the pull, strong and steady, to move forward, just a little, and take—

“No,” she said as she made herself draw back. “I can’t…I won’t.”

“You already did, once,” Nick said as he leaned back against the door. If he could have managed to get farther away, he would have. Because for a moment there, he hadn’t wanted to take no for an answer. And he’d always been able to before. It was more evidence for his theory that Tyler Sheridan was different for him. And that made her dangerous.

“Kissing you was a mistake. I won’t make it again.”

He studied her for a moment. Her hair was still mussed from his hands, her cheeks were flushed, and the pulse at her throat was beating fast. She had to be thinking of what they’d shared, what they could share again, just as he was. “You’re wrong. We’re both going to make that particular mistake again.”

“No.” She shook her head. “You said it yourself. It’s just chemistry.”

“But it could be passion.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Chemistry burns out quickly. True passion just grows more intense with each indulgence. Of course, we’d have to experiment a little, find out exactly what it is between us.”

Tyler stared at him. Did the man ever take anything seriously? But beneath the teasing light in his eyes, she could see something else, something that reached out to her. And she could feel deep within herself the desire to reach out to him, too. It was something she’d struggled all her life against. Something she’d wished all her life for? No, that couldn’t be true. She wouldn’t let it be true. “Passion or chemistry. I don’t care to indulge. It can’t, and it won’t, lead anywhere for either one of us.”

“I’m not sure all the facts are in on that.”

Chin lifted, Tyler met his eyes squarely. “I don’t intend to investigate it any further. I’ve seen where passion leads, and I promised myself that I would never travel down that path.”

It was the bleak look in her eyes that kept him from reaching out to her, pulling her close and proving her wrong. There was a secret there, and he vowed he’d learn it. But he could wait.

“So your relationship with this bridegroom of yours is devoid of passion?”

“That’s not what I said.”

Nick’s brows rose. “It’s certainly what you implied.”

“It’s true that I didn’t want my relationship with Richard—or with any man—to be based merely on passion. That’s why I decided to use Personal Connections, so that I could make sure before we ever met in person that Richard—or whoever he is—and I were compatible on more important levels.”

“Ah,” Nick said.

The look she shot him was pure ice. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Grinning, Nick shrugged. “Just ‘ah.”’ We detectives say it a lot. It’s our most frequently used expression after ‘aha!”’

“This the place?” the driver asked as he rammed the taxi into the curb.

Tyler glanced out the window. “Yes.” Raising a hand to automatically smooth her hair, she suddenly remembered that it was down, and that the pins were scattered somewhere on a path in Central Park. “Wait. I can’t go in there looking like this.”

“You look fine to me.”

“I look like a ragamuffin.” Unsnapping her purse, she drew out a brush.

“Here, let me,” Nick said, taking it from her. “Turn around.”

“No, I can—”

“It’ll save time. You can check your makeup while I take care of this.”

For one second, Tyler weighed her options. Wrestling with Nick Romano for her hairbrush or giving in and preserving her dignity. She did what a true Sheridan would do and turned to dig in her purse for her compact.

“I’ve got two younger sisters,” Nick said as he drew the brush through her hair. “For years my mom and I had to get them ready for church on Sunday….”

Whatever he was saying had become an unrecognizable buzz of sound in Tyler’s ears. It had been a mistake to allow him to touch her. And she’d only made it worse by opening her compact. Because now she could see as well as feel his hands on her. She discovered it was incredibly erotic to watch his fingers move from where they rested lightly on her shoulder to draw her hair back over her ear, then brush across the nape of her neck. The flames started there, then fanned out quickly until her blood turned thick and warm. An image filled her mind of those fingers stroking softly, surely, all over her body. Her nerve endings began to throb with just the thought of it, and it was all she could do not to lean back against him. She wasn’t aware of letting the compact slip through her fingers, only of the sudden weight when it landed on her lap.

“You two done back there?” the driver asked, twisting in his seat. “I got another fare waving at me on the corner.”

Tyler snatched up her compact, shoved it into her purse and pushed open the door of the taxi. Only by summoning up all her control did she prevent herself from running into the lobby of the glass-and-steel building. Instead, she pushed through the revolving door, then cut a neat path through the crowd of conservatively dressed men and women milling around her, while she tried to gather her thoughts.

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