Blush (3 page)

Chantal steepled her fingers and leaned back in her executive chair. “I’m going to give it to you straight, hun. You’ve worked with me for five years and in all that time I’ve never seen you react like this over a guy.”

Adele opened her mouth to protest and Chantal held up a finger. “Let me finish. Sure, you’ve dated. Dinner here, movie there. But no guy in Vegas has ever put that sparkle in your eyes, so I reckon you should hang onto this one for a little longer. Have some fun. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Adele didn’t want to contemplate the worst, for it could ruin Reid’s burgeoning career before it had begun.

She’d never do that. To anyone. Especially a guy who she’d shared a unique connection with.

Chantal was right. Adele had never felt like this about any other guy. Ludicrous, because she barely knew him and all they’d shared was quickie sex.

But for that all too brief time they’d chatted at the reception, the invisible pull between them had been undeniable.

She’d wanted to know more.

She’d wanted to know everything.

Instead, she’d have to settle for her memories and a futile wish of what may have been.

Reid paced his office overlooking Rodeo Drive, blind to the view, ignoring the constant ping of emails landing in his inbox.

He’d pulled two all-nighters since he’d returned from Prince Island but not even the constant work focus could make him forget.

Adele.

Vanilla fragrance. Deep russet. Flawless skin.

The way she’d yelled his name with abandon when she’d come.

Dammit. He kicked at the trashcan, his designer loafer connecting with the stainless steel in a satisfying thud. Wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

Felt like he needed to head to the gym and do a three-hour workout with a punching bag, anything to burn off the relentless energy coursing through his veins like a drug.

He’d been on this high ever since she’d run away from him on that beach and despite his efforts to find her afterward, she’d vanished.

He’d located her villa, he’d pounded down the door, he’d contemplated changing his flight plans. In the end, a crisis at the office had tampered his manic obsession to find her and he’d boarded Dorian’s jet with the bride and groom, content to leave them alone in their marital bliss while he mulled the most scintillating encounter of his life.

It had nothing to do with the fact he hadn’t got laid in nine months. For while the sex had been memorable, his burning desire for Adele had more to do with an indefinable something she possessed that could drive any sane guy wild.

He couldn’t forget her.

No matter how many meetings he chaired, how many conference calls, how many hours he spent at his desk, she was all he could think about. And if he didn’t do something about it soon, he’d go stir crazy.

Work was everything to him. Obtaining an office of power and making a difference had been his goal for as long as he could remember.

But now he had a new goal and it centered on contacting one luscious redhead.

Maybe if they caught up again it would dispel the exotic mystery surrounding their first encounter and the gloss would wear off?

Yeah, and maybe if he kept telling himself that he’d be voted in as the next president.

Whatever he decided to do after they met up again, it had to be better than this. Lack of focus could cost him and his party. And he’d worked too damn hard to get this far to throw it away for a woman who probably wouldn’t be interested anyway.

Not many women were in this for the long haul. Sure, they latched onto him at the start, thinking it would be glamorous to date a politician. Half of them had dreams of being the First Lady; the other half would do anything to social climb. But none of them lasted once they discovered his manic hours and what that meant: minimal attention.

His longest relationship had lasted six months and that had been three years ago. Peg had visions of the White House; he’d wanted to do the best job he could. They’d parted amicably. No great surprise she was now married to a state governor who was a prime candidate for the presidential running within the next eight years.

Besides, what could he offer Adele? The occasional fly-in to Vegas for a dirty weekend? No way would a woman like her be satisfied with that. And he wouldn’t expect her to. Adele deserved to be wined and dined. To be cherished and wooed.

So where the hell did that leave him? Frustrated, grumpy and confused. Three emotions he didn’t tolerate.

He had to see her. Get this thing for her out of his system. One person would help him in his quest.

His sister.

Damn, he’d never hear the end of it.

Jess smirked as she plopped onto Reid’s sofa. “What’s on your mind?”

No way could Reid blurt out his real reason for summoning his sister, so he hedged. “Wanted to see how you and Jack are doing.”

A hoot of laughter erupted from her smug mouth. “Me and Jack. Riiiight…”

Reid hated feeling this uncertain. He’d always been a guy in control and fishing for information didn’t sit well with him. He hadn’t asked Jess outright for information on Adele because he couldn’t stand her merciless teasing. Looked like she’d cottoned on pretty fast regardless.

“Someone say my name?” Jack strolled into the lounge room of Reid’s Beverly Hills condo and slapped Reid on the back. “Good to see you, mate.”

“Hope you’re treating my sis right.” Reid held up a bottle of scotch and Jack nodded. “Though what she sees in a loud-mouthed Aussie chef is a mystery to me.”

Jack mimicked dicing and slicing. “She likes the way I present my sausage.”

Reid grimaced as he poured whisky into two glasses. “Can’t believe you just said that.”

“Hello? Still here, remember?” Jess waved, her expression radiant as she glanced at Jack. “And you, zip it. We’re here to talk about Reid’s love life, not ours.”

Reid’s hand jerked and sloshed whisky on the sideboard. “Who said anything about love?”

Jess snorted. “Hmm, let me see. I introduce you to Adele at the wedding. You disappear. Then I get a desperate call the day after I return to Vegas saying you’ll fly me out here for a chat?”

Jess rubbed her hands together. “Dead giveaway? We only ever chat on the phone, short snatched calls between your meetings.” She pointed at his shirt. “And it’s the first time I’ve ever seen you with your buttons done up wrong. Must be love.”

“You talk too much.” Reid glanced at his shirt, noted the last three buttons poking through the wrong holes, and scowled. It was official. He was a mess.

He handed Jack a glass and raised his in a toast. “Drink your champagne and shut the hell up.”

“Okay.” She clinked her flute to their glasses. “But if I shut up, you don’t get to hear how Adele’s pining for you.”

Reid choked on his first slug of whisky while Jess and Jack grinned like a couple of loons.

After clearing his throat, Reid placed his glass on a table and flung himself into the nearest chair. “All I need is a contact number.”

Jess raised an eyebrow. “If that’s all you needed, you would’ve already rung her at work.”

Damn, his sis knew him too well.

He dragged a hand over his face. “I know she works at Burlesque Bombshell but I don’t want anyone there knowing my business. All it takes is one big-mouth to spread rumors to the press and I’ll be plastered over the media.”

Jess frowned. “Burlesque Bombshell is a dance venue. What’s the big deal?”

Jack sat next to Jess and entwined his fingers with hers. “From the outfits I saw lying around there, women still take off their clothes.”

“It’s a form of art,” Jess said, her frown deepening. “It’s elegant and classy and beautiful.”

Reid shook his head. “You don’t need to convince me, but voters won’t see it that way.”

Jess’s eyes widened in horror. “Let me get this straight. You want to see Adele again but because of her workplace you want to keep her your dirty little secret?”

She squeezed Jack’s hand and released it.

“Not good, even for an uptight prig like you, bro.” She leaped off the sofa, radiating indignation. “You want her cell number? Well too damn bad.”

Jess stalked from the room, not before blowing Jack a kiss and firing a death glare Reid’s way.

“That went well,” Jack deadpanned, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Shut the fuck up.” Reid braced his elbows on his knees and hung his head.

Jack laughed. “You’re a mess.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Reid inhaled and blew out a long breath. “This isn’t me.”

“Which begs the question, what is it about this woman that has you tied up in knots?” Jack pointed at the door Jess had just exited through. “And pissing off your sister?”

Reid shrugged, unable to articulate half of what he was feeling: confused, besotted and off-kilter. So he settled for the simple truth. “I like her.”

“You’ve liked women before.”

“Not like this.” Reid stood and started pacing, a common occupation over the last few days. “She’s all I can think about. I’ve tried working twenty-four-seven, hasn’t stopped me wondering and remembering…”

“You shagged her?”

Reid nodded. “On the beach.”

“Way to go, big boy.”

Reid growled. “And that’s another thing, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Yep, you’ve got it bad.” Jack whistled. “Not wanting to talk about your sex life? Sure-fire sign you’re hooked.”

Reid stopped and sank back into his chair. “Jess is going to give me Adele’s number, right?”

Jack held up his hands. “Hey, I’m staying out of this one.”

“Useless prick.” Reid flipped him the bird. “I have no clue what she sees in you but considering she’s ga-ga, why can’t you influence her on my behalf?”

“Because I’m enjoying seeing you squirm.” Jack stood and held out his hand. “Good luck, mate. You’re going to need it.”

As Reid shook his best friend’s hand, he knew it would take more than luck to get together with Adele.

It would take a frigging miracle.

Adele had spent her Saturday morning cleaning the fridge, scrubbing the toilet and mopping the floors. This, after a five-mile jog that barely put a dent in her ridiculous energy levels.

With a resigned sigh, she flopped onto the sofa, picked up a magazine and absentmindedly flipped pages. Usually, the designer clothes and hot celeb guys would hold her attention for an hour.

Not today. Today, without work to focus on, she had too much time to think. And thinking wasn’t good, considering memories of Reid invaded her mind constantly.

Pointless. Waste of time. And that’s one thing she’d never tolerated; wishing things could be different. She may have indulged in ‘what if’ as a kid; what if she had a dad? What if her mom wasn’t an angry drunk? What if she got to hang out with other kids and have a normal childhood instead of being regarded as a freak because she had to spend all her time looking after her mom?

And she may have asked a few ‘what ifs’ later too. What if she hadn’t been saddled with her mom’s debts even after she’d died? What if she’d had a chance to attend college rather than do whatever it took to make ends meet? What if she didn’t have to run from her past?

These days, she didn’t ask questions. She accepted her life and was proud of how far she’d come. But there was something about Reid Harper that had her wishing for things that could never be.

He exuded class and charisma, was part of a world that could never include her. That hadn’t stopped her dreaming over the last week, imagining how different her life could’ve been if she wasn’t haunted by her past.

Her cell rang and she dumped the magazine, picked up the cell and glanced at the screen. Private number, blocked. She didn’t get many private calls, discounting the ones from Chantal landline at work. Curious, she hit the answer button.

“Adele Radcliff speaking.”

“Adele. Reid Harper. How are you?”

Adele fell back on the sofa in shock, every hair on her arms snapping to attention at the sound of his cultured voice.

“Adele?”

Mentally kicking herself at being an idiot for not responding, she said, “Hey Reid. I’m good. You?”

Way to go with the scintillating conversation.

“Busy as usual.” He paused, and she could’ve sworn he sounded as nervous as she felt.

How did he get her number? More importantly, why was he calling?

He cleared his throat. “I’m flying into Vegas for business tomorrow and was wondering if you’d like to catch up.”

She should say no. Instead, Adele fist-pumped the air before answering in a more sedate fashion. “Sure, I’d love to. What time do you get in?”

“Nine. Fly out at midnight.”

Her enthusiasm waned. He was flying in for business, which meant she’d be lucky to see him for an hour max.

“We could do dinner?”

“Business should be done by eleven.” His pauses unnerved her. “I was hoping we could spend the rest of the day together.”

“Okay.” She agreed too quickly, hoping she didn’t sound like a sad case that sat around on the weekend doing nothing. Which was the truth, of course. “Text me when you’re done and we can catch up.”

“Catch up, yeah, good.”

She grinned at the way he parroted her words, like a guy who hadn’t been sure of her response. “I’m glad you called, Reid.”

Sucking in a deep breath, she rushed on before she lost her nerve. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

“Same here, sweetheart.”

She knew the endearment meant nothing. For all she knew he probably called all the women he slept with sweetheart. But for this moment on a dull Saturday morning, she held it close to her heart.

“In fact, I’ve been going a little crazy, remembering our time together.”

Glad she wasn’t the only one. “What do you want to do tomorrow?”

His wicked chuckle rippled along her nerve endings like she’d been zapped with electricity. “Really want me to answer that?”

Her breath hitched at the thought of this conversation entering uncharted territory. “Absolutely.”

“At first I had grand plans to take you for a picnic lunch in the desert, drive up to Mount Charleston, then dinner in a private room at a friend’s hotel.” His voice lowered and she tucked her knees up and rested her chin, feeling like a cheerleader getting a call from the football jock. Something she’d always yearned for but never experienced.