He's the One (3 page)

"You put some crazy proposition to me tonight, Taylor Sullivan, and, damn it, I have no idea why, but let's just say you've got a date."

Oh, boy.

"A date.” Those two words sounded extraordinarily provocative.

Out in the bar, Cade walked beside her, but Taylor's emotions were frayed and she couldn't even look at him. He called out to the young woman at the bar and gave her a wave. “Hey, sis, gotta go somewhere."

"Who's the lady, Cade?” came a shout from the direction of the pool table.

"Never you mind, Harry Fontain. Keep your mitts off."

A raucous hoot of laughter rippled around the room. “I think our Cade's found himself a hot chick."

"'Bout time,” called another.

Cade waved the crowd off and directed Taylor towards the exit, the pressure of his hand increasing.

She couldn't get out of there fast enough, and the moment they walked through the exit, she breathed a sigh of relief.

His expression was all apologetic. “Sorry about that. It's football night; the guys are celebrating a win by the local footie team."

"You seem to know everyone,” she said as she walked at his side.

"Goes with the territory. The more you get to know your customer, the better business is. They think you're interested in their life, so they feel at home. And if they feel comfortable, then they're likely to spend more."

"Makes sense."

"Yeah, it does. But damned if this does.” He frowned and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. Taylor followed his movements, and her eyes widened as she saw what his tight jeans emphasized. She slid her tongue over her lips nervously as a wave of panic washed through her.

"You don't have to do this,” she said.

"Don't I?"

"No,” she reaffirmed, but she couldn't stall the sense of disappointment she'd feel if Cade changed his mind. “Look I'll help you with your business. It doesn't matter about the ... ah ... other thing."

"The virginity thing?"

Taylor swallowed hard. Why hadn't she done something about this a long time ago? But she knew why. Her life had been hijacked.

They turned the corner and wove their way through the rows of cars before coming to a halt beside a sleek classic car.

A gasp of surprise flew from her lips. “This Mustang is
yours
?” She reached out to the car. It stood alone, under the streetlight, beautiful, elegant, charged.

"Sure is."

She heard the unmistakable sound of admiration and joy in Cade's acknowledgement and noticed the way his hands caressed the car's sleek curves. She dragged her gaze away, wanting to disown her thoughts. Trouble was, they ignited imagery as if the car's curves were
hers
. Skin against skin. Cade next to her. Hot, sleek and very tempting.

"Very impressive. ‘64 Mustang, eight cylinder, isn't it?"

"You know cars?"

A soft flutter of laughter broke the hush. “Don't sound so surprised. Women can be ‘into’ cars, just as much as men."

"I know. I just didn't expect it."

"Why? Don't I look like a petrol head?"

"No, more like a prim little nun. A good girl,” he confirmed. He looked at her then. Really looked. Slow and deliberate. His hands slid through her hair, draping it over him. A veil of golden silk; such a sensual act that she held her breath. It also exposed vulnerability in her, that until now, Taylor refused to acknowledge.

She wondered what Cade saw. The real her? Or the sensible girl, the façade she enacted for everyone, including her family. Had he been able to bridge the gap between? Did she want him to?

To Cade Harper, she was a prim little girl, about to be bad.

Without speaking, Cade opened the car door, and she slid in, careful not to get too close. However, once seated Taylor wasn't so sure accepting his offer was a good idea. The interior was small and far too intimate and only served to fire her wayward hormones.

In clipped tones, she gave him her address and retreated into silence.

As the car eased out of the car park, excitement, fear and anticipation all rolled into one coursed through her veins. It forced Taylor to focus on emotions she'd never experienced before, and she felt totally inadequate. Nothing in her life had prepared her for Cade. Being engaged to Rob held nothing on being taken for a ride by Cade Harper.

And there lay her problem.

"So how come wedding planning? Don't the couple and their families do that?” Cade asked as they drove through the silent suburb.

Her tension eased with a sigh of relief. This was her forte, and at last she could relax. “In the past, yes. But today people want something different."

"And you can give it to them?” he questioned. Although Cade drove, Taylor read the true interest in his expression. She smiled, and then chuckled with laughter.

"What?” And he gave her a comical expression. “What did I say wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just the same expression I've seen many times before. The grooms would be happy with a tent and few beers, then the bride gets some ideas, and it's never the same again. Horrified groom versus excited bride."

"So what do you do?"

"Dr. Phil says if the ‘wife ain't happy, then neither will anyone else be'. So seems to me there's a bit of meeting in the middle to get it sorted."

Cade looked suitably appalled, then refocused on the road. “And does it—get sorted I mean?"

"Mostly."

"So what sort of weddings, besides expensive, do you conjure up for ‘happy’ couples?"

"Fantasy, of course,” she said proudly. “I create fantasies and give the couple the dream wedding they've always wanted."

Cade brought the Mustang to a halt right outside her house. The night-light switched on automatically. Taylor frowned. No necking on the doorstep. She'd have to get rid of that light first thing in the morning.

He switched the engine off, and suddenly everything was silent.

"What about your dreams, Taylor?"

Her stomach clenched. “I haven't got any."

"None?"

"No.” Not any more. She wouldn't allow herself to dream, and uncomfortable with his questioning, she stared out the window at the night.

"You like Devonport?” Cade asked, looking around at the character houses. “It seems a nice suburb."

"Mm, I like the close-knit community. It's the oldest suburb, so a sense of unity has built up over many years."

"Not afraid of the ghost on Mt. Victoria?"

"Never seen it, so how can I be afraid of it?"

"But you're afraid of me,” he stated.

Taylor looked at him. Was she? She eyed his strong hands. She'd already felt their touch, knew what they could do to her. She imagined them touching her, again. Everywhere. “No, I'm not afraid of you, Cade. Only of what I don't know."

"And you think you know me?"

"Enough,” she said succinctly.

"Enough to trust me?"

Taylor hesitated. “Not quite,” she admitted, and then smiled a little shyly. “But ... soon."

"That's good."

"I'm sorry if I put you on the spot tonight."

"Don't worry about it."

"So you get propositioned all the time?"

Cade shrugged. “Goes with the job."

She unlocked the door and pushed it open.

"One more thing.” Cade's hand touched her bare shoulder and sparks flew. Her breath stalled in her lungs. She turned back to him, but when he cupped her face in an almost tender embrace, its gentleness sucked everything from her.

Then he kissed her.

Taylor gasped and inhaled his scent. The physicality of him. Pure sex. Pure male. It almost sent her over the edge, to a place she didn't know. She kissed him back.

He teased her mouth, grazing her bottom lip with the scrape of his teeth and once again, Taylor began to drown.

"You can't bury yourself in your fantasy weddings, Taylor Sullivan.” His voice almost purred against her cheek.

But Taylor's brain had shut down to everything but the taste of him, and the aching need that swelled deep down inside her.

"This is our fantasy. Is this what you want?” he asked.

Definitely. But Taylor didn't say so. She couldn't admit it. Not out loud. Not even to herself, really. She pulled away and grappled for oxygen. She needed to breathe. But oh, how she needed Cade's kiss to go on forever.

Nothing is forever.

With shaking fingers she battled for control, fumbling in her purse. She refused look at the condoms. “Here's my card. If you..."

"I haven't changed my mind.” Cade's gentle touch caressed her cheek. He looked directly at her, dark eyes earnest. “It's still yes, Taylor."

The card slipped from her fingers. “It is?"

"Uh huh. So what's next?"

"I don't know."

"It's your call. You're the boss, Taylor.” But Cade saw her hesitation. “What? You thought you'd just jump my bones and get it over with tonight?"

Taylor swallowed her embarrassment. Yes, that was exactly what she'd thought. Businesslike. Organized. Get it over with and get on with life.

He lifted her hand in his, turning it over, then back again as if he tried to read her palm. He smiled then—slow and sweet. It made Taylor want to reach up and trace his mouth, to
feel
his smile.

"Sorry, no can do."

"Why not?” God, did she actually ask that?

"Because, call me old fashioned, but I think we need to take it slow, let it smolder, heat up and get in the mood. Making love isn't wham bam thank you, ma'am, it's an art."

Mood? An art form? Lord. She was in the mood
now
. One kiss and her body burned for him. She had to get out of here before she did exactly what he said and jumped his bones.

"Well, thank you for being a ... gentleman."

"No problem. When would you like to meet again?"

How about ten minutes time
, her subconscious offered.

"Um ... maybe tomorrow. I've got to check my diary."

"Of course. Business before pleasure."

Taylor's head jerked up. She caught Cade's amused grin. Those dimples sure were a temptation.

"Business is what pays the bills."

"And love is what the makes the world go round, or so they say."

"This isn't about love."

Cade's grin slipped. “No, it's not. It's about giving you some experience. Don't worry; I'll phone you."

And with that, Taylor realized she'd been summarily dismissed. Thrusting the car door open, she jack-knifed out as fast as her trembling legs allowed, and although she bent down to say thanks, Cade didn't give her time. He gunned his hot car and, with a squeal of tires, sped off into the night.

"Just like a knight in shining armor,” Taylor murmured as she watched the retreating vehicle.

Trouble was she wasn't sure she could handle being rescued by Mr. Harper.

The Mustang's revs vibrated as Cade drove up Mt. Victoria. He didn't have a clue why he headed there, except he wasn't ready to go back to the bar and face the curious glances or his sister's interrogation. Katie may have been the youngest of the Harper siblings, but she sure made up for it with her mothering. He'd got used to it over the years, but right now, he wasn't in the mood.

What he
was
in the mood for was Taylor Sullivan. Prim, uptight Taylor with long, slender legs he was sure went on forever. He imagined them wrapped around him, holding him to her.

And ankles ... since when had ankles become so darned sexy? Cade shifted uncomfortably. He needed a cold shower—and soon.

He couldn't help but wonder, though, what was beneath her prim exterior. Didn't she know covering up was
way
more seductive? It left a guy wondering, and he sure did wonder.

He brought the car to a halt at the summit and cut the engine. Silence surrounded him, while the city pulsed below. The same as his body pulsed the moment he'd set eyes on Taylor. Unbuckling his seat belt, he sank down on the seat, shutting out the lights below. But, it couldn't shut out Taylor.

Her image replayed in his brain. Soulful eyes, the way she looked at him, a soft wordless plea in a sea of blue that threatened to swamp him.

Better get your control back, Harper
.

The way she blushed and looked away embarrassed, as if caught doing something naughty. Right now, naughty seemed very nice. And yet Cade had seen desperation in her eyes, too. Taylor wanted sexual experience to be able to advise her clients. It sounded weird, but he could actually understand it. How often had he ended up as an unpaid counselor to a patron who cried into their drink?

Yeah, but you don't kiss them, don't undress them ... and take them to bed
.

And that was
his
problem. She'd asked him to kiss her. He'd done it
and
wanted more. Lots of it. Her lips, her body. Everything. One taste, one touch of her sweet and tempting mouth beneath his and he'd been hooked.

"Dumb move, Harper,” he cursed into the silence.

He should have sent her packing. But he hadn't, and damn it, it felt right—when he knew it shouldn't. She was too—perfect. And that scared him. All he could think about was Taylor and how she felt in his arms. His constant state of arousal drove him crazy.

But he couldn't ignore his responsibilities. Never had. Not since he'd been ten years old and those that should have known better disregarded theirs. In the blink of any eye, Taylor Sullivan had become his responsibility.

By the time he parked the Mustang behind the bar, the crowd had diminished, though escape proved impossible.

"Hey, Cade, get lucky?"

"Nah, she looks too sweet for our man."

Cade frowned at the snide innuendoes, and his hands balled to fists at his side. As he crossed the bar, he felt his sister's eyes follow him. but he refused to acknowledge her silent questioning and gave a dismissive wave to the rest. He eyeballed the bar. He needed a drink. And time to think.

Filling a glass with the remains of half-melted ice from the ice bucket, he poured himself a whiskey and headed straight for the back room.

Perfume. Taylor's perfume. Cade skidded to a halt. The tantalizing fragrance of roses and lilacs assailed his senses the moment he walked in. His eyes shuttered and he inhaled, remembering how her skin had smelt.