Because of Sydney (14 page)

“Something funny?” she asked.

“No.” I shook my head. I thought I had laughed to myself, but she heard me. “Just having a good time.” I squeezed her hand.

The car stopped, and I kissed her on the cheek before the door opened. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to touch her. Kiss her.

There was a crowd gathered in front of the restaurant. They were taking pictures next to the stone columns.

“I think it’s a rehearsal dinner,” she commented as we dodged the photographer.

“Maybe.” I pulled her with me into the coolness of the restaurant.

“Ah, Mr. Lachlan we are so happy to have you join us tonight. When I saw your name on our reservation list, I chose a special table for you.” The restaurant matitre d’ motioned for us to follow him.

“Thank you.”

Sydney’s eyes grew wide. She tried to push the corners of her dress down.

“You didn’t tell me it was
this
fancy,” she whispered.

“This place?” I tried to play it off. “Basically a college bar.”

“It is not.”

Our table was next to the window. Like the suite, it offered a view of the Riverwalk, only more secluded and less busy. There weren’t as many people walking the boardwalk at this end.

Sydney’s expression had changed. She chewed her bottom lip. The one I knew tasted like sangria.

I hadn’t figured out how all of this was supposed to work. But I knew two things. The problem was they were in complete conflict with each other. I would keep it casual. I had to. And damn it, I was undeniably attracted to her. More than I should be.

I scooted her chair forward.

“I didn’t realize you were such a gentleman.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I settled into my seat across from her, accepting the wine list.

“I don’t know. I guess I haven’t spent enough time with millionaires. I didn’t think you would notice the-the—”

I chuckled to myself while she searched for the word.

“Details?” I offered.

“Yes. Exactly. The little things.”

“You see, Miss Paige, I always notice the details. It’s what makes me so successful, I believe.”

“That’s your big secret to success?”

I laughed. “You could say that. And
never
give the competition any ammunition. Two rules I always live by.”

“I think you forgot one.”

“What’s that?”

“Stay away from the press,” she added.

I winked. I liked her sense of humor.

“I thought that was a given.”

She lowered her eyes to the menu. “What do you recommend here?” She had placed her napkin across her lap, covering her knees.

“Why don’t we try one of the specials? I think the filet sounds tempting.” It was how I always judged a chef. The specials would be this man’s signature.

“All right.” Her eyes scanned the page. She leaned closer and whispered, “but where are the prices?”

I spoke low. “There aren’t any. Order whatever you like.”

I dated different of types of women. Some came from families with money. Not my kind of money. The kind that was so much a part of their genetic code I knew they bled green. Those women were hard to please. Then there were they type who knew what was in my bank account and couldn’t wait to add it to theirs. They were easy to please, but I knew their game. They liked restaurants like this one.

And now I faced a woman like Sydney. She didn’t fit into either category. She didn’t seem to care about the money. If I was honest, I thought it made her a little uncomfortable. I looked around the restaurant. Everyone talked in hushed tones. There was candlelight. The waiters wore gloves.

The matitre d’ was planted near the mahogany pillar, stealing glances at us. Anxious for me to approve of the wine and the menu.

Sydney’s brows were almost knitted together in concentration.

“What do you say we get out of here?” I pushed back from my chair. Suddenly, I realized this didn’t fit into my definition of fun. Not with her.

“But we haven’t even ordered,” she protested.

I stood next to her, offering my hand. “Come on. I’ve got an idea.”

I could tell she was trying to hide a smile, but her eyes gave her away. “Ok. Where are we going?”

I tucked her hand in mine and led her through the restaurant. “I spotted a place I think you’ll like.”

She paused. “This is your dinner, though.”

“And I want to take you somewhere else.” My voice was firm.

“Mr. Lachlan, is something wrong?” The matitre d’ met us at the door.

“No, something has come up.”

“I’m sorry to hear that sir. Please call us again. We would love to have you dine with us.”

“I’ll do that.” I nodded at the man. He was clearly distraught we were leaving.

Sydney’s hand was soft against my palm. We turned the corner and took the brick steps that led to the terrace below. I walked slowly, making sure she had her footing. I opened the iron gate, leading to the boardwalk. Lights floated above us, tied between trees and awnings. One of the gondola drivers was singing in the distance. I wondered if it was the same one we had this afternoon.

“I don’t think they were very happy we left.” She giggled.

“No, probably not. But I think they’ll manage without us.”

We stopped in front of one of the cantinas. I looked at the sign and then at Sydney.

“What about this place?” I asked.

A woman greeted us on the patio. “Table for two?”

Sydney nodded. “Yes.”

We sat close to the sidewalk. The tables were strewn in no particular pattern. It looked as if they moved throughout the day, and at the end of the night the staff would put them back together.

The woman returned with menus. “Can I get drinks for you?”

“A pitcher of margaritas,” I instructed.

“Isn’t that how we got in trouble last night?” Sydney giggled.

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

I saw her blush. I knew exactly how it sounded and it had the effect I wanted. It wasn’t often I met someone who had the same sexual appetite I had. But I might have met my match. She liked to play. She liked to argue. But God, what she did in bed blew my mind. As soon as we were done, I was ready to take her again.

“Thinking about something serious?” she asked.

“Sorry.” I focused on her. “So, tell me, Miss Paige, why did you want to be a journalist?”

“That’s kind of a heavy question.”

“Is it?”

She began to fray the edge of her napkin. Little shredded pieces drifted through the slats in the iron table. I thought I might have touched on something.

“Have you told me all the real reasons why you decided to get into development and acquisitions?” Her head tilted to the side.

“You had your chance to ask questions.”

“I did. But did I really get all the answers?”

“Your boss was happy with the story wasn’t she?”

“That’s not the same thing.” Her hazel eyes gleamed.

I sat back as the pitcher and glasses arrived. “Are you two ready to order?” the server asked.

“Not quite.” I smiled, wanting to be alone with Sydney.

“Ok, I’ll give you a few more minutes.” She hurried into the restaurant. There were a few tables she was tending inside, but we were the only ones sitting on the patio.

I grabbed the handle and poured the lime mixture into the glasses. “Try this. I bet these will be the best margaritas on the Riverwalk.”

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?” I tasted the drink, brimming with strong tequila.

“Change the subject like we weren’t talking about something important and make it seem completely natural.”

“Maybe in order to keep our arrangement we’re going to need to respect that some topics might be off limits.”

She frowned. “Off limits?”

“Yes. With your curiosity I suppose that’s going to be difficult for you.”

She shook her head. “No, maybe it’s for the best. We’re keeping things light, right?”

“Very.”

The waitress returned and we ordered a heaping plate of nachos, tacos, and an extra bowl of guacamole.

“Do you think you’ll be able to walk back in those things?” I pointed to her shoes when dinner was over.

“Yes, I want to walk. It’s completely different down here at night.”

“What do you mean?”

“It sounds silly, but it’s more magical. The lights and the music. It feels different.”

She was right, I had noticed how the air had changed since we left the restaurant. The stuffiness was gone. The pretentiousness of the priceless menus. The perfect dripless tapered candles. All of that was staged elegance and romance.

The jars that flickered with lobbed over candles. Colored lights that hung on whatever hook was in the path. Music that came from the radio. It was real here.

We strolled in the direction of the hotel, stopping along the way to watch the boats pass under a bridge.

“I’ve never seen San Antonio like this.” My fingertips stroked her shoulder. I had almost memorized the freckles on her skin here.

“Why not?” She studied my face.

I turned her, so her back was pressed against the stone railing of the bridge. The tree branches barely stretched out this far.

“I’ve been asking myself that all night.”

“Maybe you work too much,” she scolded.

“Now you sound like Eden.”

“I think she’s right.” Her hand snaked around my neck, and my breath almost stopped.

I leaned into her, aware that I was getting ready to kiss her. I didn’t give a damn about the street cleaner or the couple strolling behind us. I saw her lips and wanted to feel the firmness of her mouth, taste the margarita on her tongue.

I bent toward her. She tilted her chin and for a second I felt like I was tumbling off the bridge. Her mouth was sweet and warm. My hands circled her back, pressing her against me. She aligned her body, fitting her curves into the open spaces against me. I wanted her. She started to purr and I knew I had to get her back upstairs.

“Come on.” I tucked my hand around her waist, walking next to her.

“It’s really beautiful down here.” She stopped in front of the gate that took us through the lobby entrance of the hotel.

“If I haven’t said it enough, I think you’re beautiful.”

“You might have mentioned it.”

“I’m probably going to mention it again.” I unlocked the gate, and offered her my hand. The steps were uneven and some were covered in moss.

“I wish I could rewrite my feature article on you.”

“What do you think you left out?” I pulled her into the shadows of the courtyard. As much as I wanted to get to the suite, my need for her was strong now. I cradled her face between my hands.

“I left out the charming part. And the gentleman part. And then there’s the thoughtful part. I need to rewrite the whole thing. There’s more to you than demolition.”

I smirked. “I don’t think I want people to know that. You’re going to make me sound like a philanthropist or something awful.”

I could smell her perfume when the wind picked up her hair. “Afraid your competitors will think that’s weak?”

She was driving me wild. Stalling, talking, pressing her hands against my chest, then backing inches away.

We were completely covered in the darkness. The fading sounds of the Riverwalk behind us. “No.” I buried my head in the curve of her neck, blistering rough kisses along her throat. “I take what I want.”

She kicked her head back, and a soft moan slipped through her lips. My hand was under her skirt, rubbing between her legs, feeling the heat from the motion.

“You have to stop,” she breathed.

“Why? No one can see us.” I moved the lace fabric out of my way. My fingers sank into her, and she groaned.

She panted harder as I pushed against her. I kissed her, knowing things were getting out of control.

“Please, Mason.”

I moved my hands reluctant to stop, when suddenly her hand landed on mine.

“That’s not what I meant,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to stop.”

My chest tightened. I felt her fingers twine between mine as she moved my hand where she wanted it under the cover of her dress. I nestled my nose in the curve of her neck, listening to her breathing change over to quick pants. She moaned my name as my fingers moved faster, spreading wider, finding ways to take her to the edge. Her hands locked around my neck and a long moan escaped her lips, then she was still.

She pressed her forehead against mine. I felt the dewy perspiration of her skin.

I helped straightened her skirt. We both took a breath, before walking into the lobby.

As we rode the elevator to the suite, my hand rested on her lower back. I could feel the heat of her skin through the sundress. I had no intention of her wearing it past the living room.