He's the One (4 page)

Now he'd never be able to rid her from his mind or body.

Sinking into the chair behind his desk, he held his glass. The ice clinked and swirled a watery path through the golden liquid. He mentally counted to ten and waited.

The door banged open and Cade glanced at his watch. “Dead on time."

"You and I need to talk, Cade."

Cade gave a resigned sigh. “Why am I not surprised it's you, Katie."

"Now don't get all uppity with me."

"As if I would.” he grimaced. He raised his hands in surrender as his sister stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. Escape would be impossible.

"The bar is closing. I've cashed up."

"Thanks.” But Cade knew there was more to come.

"So, who is she?"

"None of your business, Katie,” he said quietly.

"Sure it is. I've got to look after my brother. Your history goes before you."

"What history?” He tried to deny it, but knew his love and leave ‘em attitude was about to play against him.

"That's exactly what I mean. Too many to remember. The female species drop over you like flies."

"And your point is?” Cade tempered his tone. He'd put up with Katie's nosiness because he loved her. Unfortunately, she didn't take the hint.

"The point is they drool over you, and you play the game, one after another. This one's different."

"How so?” His gaze narrowed on Katie, surprised by her intuitiveness. But she didn't give up. She was on a roll.

"Well for a start, she's got clothes on."

So far.
Cade's mind whirred.

"She's a wedding planner,” he offered by way of an appeasement. Seeing the surprise on his sister's face, he nearly laughed out loud, despite himself.

Katie's eyes twinkled. “Anything I should know about?"

"Nope.

"Oh, yeah, that's right. I forgot you're commitment shy."

"Got that in one."

"You can't keep blaming them, Cade."

His jaw tightened along with every muscle in his body, unwanted memories taking him to a sad, dark place he didn't want to visit. It always did at the mention of his parents. “That's none of your business, Katie. You were too young to know what went on."

"Perhaps, but I've seen the consequences."

And
he'd
lived them. “Forget it, Katie, it's not up for discussion."

"So?” Her foot tapped a tattoo as she stood with her hands on her hips. “I'm waiting."

"You're not giving up, are you?"

She gave him a quirky “I told you so” smile.

"Stubborn as a mule."

"We're from the same gene pool, Cade, so don't forget to look at yourself."

Cade exhaled. His sister's determined look spoke volumes. “Taylor's ... a business associate,” he said. “She's going to help me promote the new cocktail bars."

"Her! She doesn't look the bar type. What's in it for her, besides a big consulting fee?"

"There doesn't have to be."

"Cade Harper, I know you, don't forget,” Katie said wiggling her finger at him.

Ten, long minutes later, Katie thankfully gave in and left him, though peace didn't come. He warred internally. Intuition told him to run a mile. Yet instinctively he knew he wouldn't walk away from Taylor. She needed him.

She needs to lose her virginity. I can help in that department.

Eyes squeezed shut, Cade tried to block Taylor from his mind and his body. Everything hummed with a heat so damned urgent it took all the willpower in the world to hold back. He wanted to jump into bed with her right now. To make love, long and slow and sweet, then hot and fast, over and over until he could erase his need for her.

Why so fierce? Why so urgent?

Hell if he knew. He wasn't some pubescent school kid needing to get his rocks off. Yet, the thought of Taylor with another guy gnawed a path straight to his gut.

Damn it, he didn't want to care, but he did. And that spelt danger, big time.

"Looks like you had a long night.” Nita sidelined Taylor the moment she walked into her office the next morning.

"Forget it.” Taylor held up her hand. “You can stop hinting right there. Nothing happened."

"You mean you ... didn't?"

Taylor colored and buried herself in her diary. “No, we didn't. In fact, Cade Harper was the perfect gentleman."

Nita dropped the morning mail in front of her. “Darn. You don't want a gentleman; you want fantasy."

And there lay the problem. Taylor had fantasies and dreams all night. Hours and hours of vivid imagery, a heat coiled way down low, when she believed she could feel Cade's touch, needy and urgent. It had been a long and lonely night.

"Right, let's get down to business,” she said, trying to hide her mood. She dropped her briefcase beside her desk and switched on her computer.

And what about your dreams?

The question he'd asked her last night replayed—again.

She had dreamed—a long time ago. But Taylor had learnt that reality and dreams didn't mix. Death had come along, and she'd been given a sad reprieve, wrapped in a shroud of guilt. It had stolen the chance to dream—until now.

Now, she dreamed of something quite different.

Sex with Cade. Hot, burning and wonderful sex.

Taylor squeezed her eyes shut. Oh, Lord, she was a wreck.

Morning passed in a whirl of messages, paper plans for seating arrangements for an upcoming wedding and tied up with tangled dreams. By the afternoon, unable to concentrate, Taylor found herself glancing at the phone every few minutes. Her nerves were shot, and her hands shook as she picked up her cup and sipped her mochaccino.

"Here are the monthly accounts.” Nita placed them in front of her. “Still no call?” she questioned.

"No.” Taylor refused to look Nita in the eye. “All afternoon I've played the will he, won't he game, just like when we were kids, picking the petals off a dandelion. He loves me, he loves me not...” her voice trailed off.

"This isn't about love."

"I know. It's about straight sex.” Oh, my goodness, had she said that?

"Well, not necessarily,” Nita countered, giving Taylor a knowing wink. Taylor blushed vividly, and Nita giggled.

"Taylor, you work too much. You need to get out, get a life."

"I have a life.” Taylor picked up the accounts. The absolute last thing she wanted to work on right now.

"You have work, that's all."

"It is my life, Nita."

"Yes, but sometimes we need a shake up."

"I don't think I'm up to another shake up,” Taylor admitted.

"I never thought you'd give up, Taylor."

Her denial came automatically. “I'm not."

"Really? So why haven't you phoned him?"

Yeah, why?

Because she was scared witless, got herself in too deep. Scared of how Cade made her feel—with just one kiss.

"It's a stupid idea, he's..."

"Everything you've ever wanted."

"I don't
want him."

"Liar,” Nita countered, laughing. “Maybe not, but you
really
need him. You made a mistake with Rob."

"Leave him out of it.” Taylor dropped the folder of accounts back onto her desk.

"Why? It all boils down to Rob, doesn't it? You mistook liking and tenderness for love. You thought you had fallen in love with the boy next door. That's all."

But there was more to it. Deep stuff. Emotions Taylor didn't know how to deal with. Or if she wanted to.

Her shoulders sagged and she slumped back in her seat. “Okay, I agree, Cade is one hunky guy; he oozes charm, sex appeal and has a body to die for."

"Are you listening to yourself? You're bonkers about the guy."

"Am not."

Nita rubbed her hands together with blatant glee. “Oh, Taylor Sullivan, I can read you like a book. Time to move on and test the waters again."

Nita was right—sort of. But in truth, Taylor knew she was different from her family. They married their first loves, were hyper-achievers with mega brains. Her parents were mathematicians, her brother a scientist and her sister, a doctor—and she became a wedding planner. Talk about a square peg in a round hole.

As the clock edged past four, Taylor found herself staring into nothing, lost in a world of “what ifs” as the peal of the phone dragged her from her reverie. Scooping up the hand-held, she punched the talk button.

"Creative Weddings."

"Taylor?"

Her mouth opened. It shut. It opened again.

"You there?"

Suddenly hot all over, her belly did flip-flops and her breasts felt heavy with need. “Um, yes."

"It's Cade Harper."

Oh, yeah.
She knew that.

"I would've called earlier, but had a problem at the bar."

Think of something, anything. “Can I help?"

Cade chuckled, a heavy velvet sound that rumbled from deep down in his chest. She'd heard it yesterday, felt it beneath her fingertips when they'd kissed. Oh, Lord.

"You're the problem."

Her heartbeat stilled and the flip-flops in her belly skidded to a halt. “I see."

"I've been trying to arrange extra staff for tonight."

"Tonight?"

"You still want to go out, don't you?"

"Out?”
He means a date, stupid—a D.A.T.E.

Another of Cade's deep laughs echoed down the phone line and sent a river of shivery tingles up and down her spine.

"You're repeating everything I say. I thought you were a lady of more words than that."

Get it together, Sullivan.

"Mind you, those little breathless sighs of yours sure do put a guy in the mood."

Taylor clamped her lips together. She couldn't believe it. “You phoned."

"I said I would. You didn't believe me?” Suddenly, the timbre of Cade's voice changed, the light, teasing tone replaced by a seriousness she hadn't heard before. “When I give my word, Taylor, I mean it. I stick to it."

"And you said we'd get to know one another."

"That's why I rang."

Oh, dear Lord.

"How about tonight?"

"Tonight,” she squeaked. Tonight seemed
too
soon. “Know as in the biblical sense?"

"We gotta walk before we run, Taylor. I'll pick you up at seven-thirty, okay?"

She nodded, and then realized she needed to speak. “Fine.” Though she couldn't help but wonder what ‘walking’ involved. The phone clicked dead, and Taylor hit the off button and dropped it into its cradle. For several minutes she simply sat, stunned. The roller coaster ride had begun.

She glanced at her watch. Four-thirty. She had a date with Cade.

Snatching up her bag and phone, she dug deep for her keys.

"Going somewhere?” Nita walked into the office as Taylor slipped her bag over her shoulder.

"On a date.” She gave her assistant the thumbs up.

"Way to go, Taylor. Don't forget the condoms."

Oh, boy.

For three long, scary hours Taylor paced her bedroom. She wished for the hundredth time she had never come up with such a hair-brained scheme. Besides, what the hell did a woman wear to entice a man? Taylor surveyed the heap of clothes on her bed. It had been so long; she didn't have clue. In fact, she'd never really dated. Rob had always been there. They'd gone through primary and high school together. Everyone thought of them as a couple. Always.

But
always
didn't work out.

Taylor eyed a gray dress and jacket, fingered the fine textured fabric while a bubble of hysteria forced her closer to turning tail and running like crazy.

"Typical. A wardrobe full of clothes and nothing to wear. Nothing remotely sexy.” Taylor sank down on to the bed and hugged the gray suit to her chest. “Boring. That's what it says. Boring, boring. All you've got is work, no life."

But how could she forge a life when others set the benchmark.

Her family. Do this. Don't do that. They “put up” with her creative side, believed she'd “see the light” and one day go to university—be just like them.

As the iridescent green numbers of the radio clock on her bedside table ticked ever closer to seven-thirty, Taylor eyed herself in the full-length mirror, saw the fear and the flush of panic coloring cheeks. She snatched up the closest dress, a sleek black sheath with cutaway shoulders. Zipping it up, she twirled and caught her reflection again.

"Tonight's the night,” she whispered and traced her lips with her fingertips.

Her eyes fluttered closed. She could feel Cade, his lips on hers. So beautiful. Heat pooled in her belly, and she dropped her hand there, sliding a soft caress over her stomach.

A knock hammered home on her front door, and her head snapped up, alert.

Damn. With clothes scattered about, the room certainly didn't resemble a passion-pit. Quickly, Taylor corralled her scattered clothes and shoved them in the wardrobe. She grabbed her jacket and purse and slipped her feet into a pair of strappy black sandals and made a beeline for the door.

Taylor swore her heart stopped as she opened the door to Cade and had to force herself to breathe. Difficult when he simply took her breath away.

Dressed in dark trousers and shirt that off-set his outdoorsy tan, Cade stood under the night light on her doorstep, a sports jacket slung over one shoulder.

He looked so
very
good. Taylor had to force herself not to reach out and touch him, run her fingers across his skin.

Dark eyes shrouded by long, thick lashes held her captive and his smile deepened his dimples. She wanted to kiss them.

Finally she managed to speak. “You're on time."

"You didn't think I would be?"

"I thought perhaps the bar might keep you busy."

"You don't quite believe me yet, do you, Taylor?"

Heat scalded her cheeks, and determined her guilt. Taylor chose immediate retreat. “I'm ready to go."

"What? Not going to invite me in?” he teased. Taylor chose not to argue that point and with her jacket and bag in one hand, she flicked the lock on the front door and pulled it closed.

Feathery fronds of lavender guarded either side of the path and tinged the night air as she walked with Cade towards the car. At the white picket gate, he halted and turned to her with a serious expression plastered on his face as he leant close.