Leather, Lace and Rock-n-Roll (8 page)

It had only been one small kiss. She snorted.
Okay, two small kisses. Two small, electrified kisses that weakened
her knees and dampened her panties was more like it. And, after
experiencing the skill of his talented lips, she only dared to
imagine the wealth of his sexual expertise.

Rachel shivered and her body shifted into
overdrive as she remembered the sight of his toned chest peeking
through his shirt, a vision she’d figured out might possibly be
repeated. The type of men’s shirt Hawke usually wore had seven
buttons and each time she’d seen him, his shirt was only buttoned
from the fourth button down. Her body warmed at the thought of
rubbing herself against his sculpted pectoral muscles. Up and down,
back and forth, until she burnt him with unbelievable friction. In
fact, if there weren’t cameras in the hallway, she just might’ve
unbuttoned him and experimented. She giggled and fanned herself
with a contract. Shameless hussy. Thank God she held exclusive
rights to her fantasies.

She jumped at the obnoxious buzz of the
telephone and took a calming breath before she answered.

“Newberry & Tremaine.”

“Caught ya!” Cameron’s voice sang smugly over
the line.

So much for control. “Caught me what?”

“You were thinking about something
naughty.”

Oh, yes I was
. “Don’t be ridiculous,
Cameron,” she scoffed. “I’m working.”

“Uh-huh, you’re out of breath, you’re working
so hard.”

Rachel allowed herself a smile. Some things
were worth hard work. Especially when sex was involved. Shocked by
that epiphany, Rachel attempted to redirect the conversation. “I
thought you had a coffee date.”

“He stood me up,” Cameron said flatly. “I
waited an hour.”

“Jerk.”

“Jerk,” Cameron echoed. “I’ll be there in
about fifteen minutes.”

Rachel frowned at the boisterous wailing of a
horn. “Are you calling from your car?”

“Uh-huh,” Cameron responded, “and I’m having
a hard time holding my mascara tube. I need my mouth. See ya in a
few.”

Rachel shook her head as the connection
ended. Cameron was fearless. A little outrageous maybe, but
extremely courageous. Cameron embraced life with a vengeance, bound
and determined to enjoy every minute and she swore she would teach
Rachel a lesson in riskiness. Rachel smirked, secretly envying
Cameron’s bravery. Little did Cameron know she had her work cut out
for her.

True to her word, Cameron blew in like the
wind several minutes later. Rachel heard the front door slam shut
then Cameron’s determined footsteps down the hallway. Rachel pushed
her hair behind her ears, shuffled the paper in front of her, and
sat up in her chair.

“Rough morning?” Cameron tossed her sketch
pad on the desk.

Rachel pinched the bridge of her nose.
“No.”

“Then why are you stressed?”

Rachel took a second before she answered.
Most women would kill for her stress at this particular moment.
“I’m not.”

“Spill it, Rach.” Cameron flopped down in a
chair and propped her feet on Rachel’s desk. “Like my sandals?”

Rachel nodded.

“Prada,” Cameron confirmed. “Now, what’s
happened this morning?”

“You wouldn’t believe what’s happened to me
in the last twenty four hours.”

Without another word, Cameron lifted one leg
and with one toe, knocked the phone off the hook.

Rachel frowned and reached to put the phone
back together. “What if a client calls?”

Cameron chased Rachel’s hands from the phone
with one foot. “Cell phone. Now, I want details.”

Rachel brushed her bangs off her forehead.
“It all started last night when Hawke kissed me after dinner.”

“I saw the tape.”

“What?!”

Cameron shrugged. “That’s what you get for
playing kissy-face in front of the camera.”

Rachel took a deep breath.

“Keep going,” Cameron prompted.

“That was just an innocent kiss. You didn’t
see the one inside the elevator.”

“Were you naked?”

“No! But, that kiss was incredible. I swear,
Cam, I couldn’t breathe and my knees turned to jelly.”

“That good, huh?”

“Yeah, but then I came to my senses.”

“About what?”

“Look, the man is a major rock star. His
moves are probably published in a handbook somewhere.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“Anyway, I wrote that one off as a show off.
And then we met with Monica today.”

“And how was that?”

“It started out horrible, but then things got
interesting.”

“Interesting how?”

Rachel explained Monica’s reluctance to
approve Hawke’s application. “So, Hawke kissed me again, right in
front of Monica.”

“Was it another innocent kiss?”

“That kiss was anything but innocent.”

“I’m sure that proved your point.”

“That’s another thing. How professional does
it look for me to have my client’s tongue crammed in my mouth?”

Cameron burst into a hysterical fit of
giggles. When she thought Cameron was finished, Rachel continued.
“That’s not all.”

“There’s more?”

“Yes, there’s more. And all thanks to you. If
I’d just let you go to the concert alone, I wouldn’t be in this
mess.”

“Rachel, you’re the only one I know who would
even consider your situation a mess.”

“Cameron!”

“Okay, relax. Now tell me what else.”

“Hawke asked me to go to Sacramento and I
said no.”

Cameron sat deathly still. Not one blonde
curl bounced. Not one long eyelash blinked.

Rachel reached across the desk and shoved her
in the shoulder. “Say something!”

“I’m trying to find the words.”

Rachel groaned and cradled her head in her
hands, desperately trying to keep her patience with Cameron.

“Rachel, you’ve got to put the past behind
you and stop being so careful.”

Rachel raised her head and frowned. “I’m not
being careful.”

“You’re scared.”

“Not really scared, just...cautious.”

Cameron grinned. “That’s the same as
careful.”

“Okay,” Rachel admitted, throwing her hands
into the air. “I’m being careful.”

“Jaydon Hawke.” Cameron sighed. “Yum.
Yum.”

Rachel echoed Cameron’s sigh. You don’t know
how true that statement really is. “Amen, sister.” Rachel shook the
clouds from her head. “But, he’s a client.”

“Yes,” Cameron agreed, “he is a client. Have
you finished drawing his plans?”

Rachel gave a slow nod, the meaning of
Cameron’s question starting to hit home.

“You can’t avoid him.”

Rachel snickered. “Believe me, I don’t want
to avoid him.”

“Where exactly is he taking you?”

“I have no idea. All he said is Sacramento
for a public appearance.”

“Do you think he’s a serial killer?”

“What? No!”

“Then go. Who cares where or why?”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Look, Rachel, this is the chance you’ve
waited for. Step outside your comfort zone. Have fun and just go
with the flow.”

Cameron stood and tapped the phone with one
professionally-manicured fingernail. “Call him, Rachel.”

“I will.”

Cameron walked across Rachel’s office. “Now.”
She tapped a cardboard tube propped against the wall. “Want me to
take this down to the mailroom?”

“No, thanks though. I’m not done with
it.”

Cameron opened the door. “The phone is next
to your left elbow.”

As soon as Cameron left the office, Rachel
flipped open her appointment book and watched Hawke’s cell phone
number pulse in black and white. She drummed her fingers against
the desk and thought long and hard about what she was about to do.
Obviously, years of pampering made Hawke extremely difficult to
discourage. So why not just give in?

Before she could back out, Rachel grabbed the
phone and dialed. Her heart beat a jungle rhythm as she listened to
each ring, part of her hoping he wouldn’t answer. Instead, his
strong, deep voice answered on the third ring.

“Rachel?”

She fought the ridiculous urge to swoon. What
was so damn intoxicating about his voice? And what made him so sure
she was calling? She glanced down at her own phone and sighed. Of
course. Caller ID had ratted her out.

Not sure how to approach the subject of
flying to Sacramento with him, she stalled. “Hawke?”

“I asked first,” he teased.

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Yes, it’s Rachel.
Maybe we need a code word.”

“How about gorgeous?”

Here comes the ego. “How about arrogant?”

Hawke hesitated a moment and she thought
maybe she’d offended him. She opened her mouth to apologize when
his throaty chuckle tickled her ear. “On second thought, scratch
the code word. Change your mind about Sacramento?”

A shiver of uncertainty crawled up Rachel’s
spine and almost caused her to make up another excuse. “Yes. I’d
love to go.”

“What changed your mind?”

Rachel opened her mouth and then snapped it
closed before her usual honesty barreled through. She took a deep
breath and chose her words carefully. “My schedule isn’t as full as
I thought.”

“Great! I’ll send Max for you in the
morning.”

Rachel closed her eyes and silently hoped she
made the right decision. Her lips began to tingle and suddenly the
warmth of Hawke’s kiss invaded her senses. “See you then.”

Rachel dropped the receiver back in the
cradle, her body on fire. The man was a true professional in the
art of seduction, she’d give him that. And there was no doubt in
her mind he’d use every secret weapon he possessed on her. She
squeezed her legs together and fidgeted in her chair. Cameron had a
point. Hawke was exactly what she needed to relax.

Rachel took a long look around the jet’s
interior and swallowed hard before she forced her brain to process
what she’d agreed to. Her spontaneity was now officially out of
control. She moved her gaze to rest on several swiveling chairs in
the center bolted to the plane’s belly and decided the one in the
middle would be the better choice. If the plane were to crash,
being sandwiched between Hawke and Max just might cushion the blow.
And really, what a way to go.

Rachel forced thoughts of tangled metal out
of her brain while she melted into the buttery leather seat,
snapped the silver seatbelt across her lap, and silently said a
prayer. While she made several, mental, life-altering promises,
Hawke and Max settled into the neighboring seats.

She caught Hawke’s frown out of the corner of
her eye. “Are you nervous?”

Rachel bit her lip.
Terrified
. “Not
really. Airplanes have the lowest death rate per one hundred
million miles of travel.”

Hawke glanced at Max. “Did you know
that?”

Max nodded. “I also know that if this plane
does crash, we don’t have anything to worry about until we get
ready to land.” He grinned at Rachel. “Forty five percent of
crashes happen on landing.”

Rachel couldn’t stop the smile that split her
lips. The delectable Max was a closet-case nerd.

Hawke shifted in his seat. “I vote we talk
about something other than plane crashes.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,”
Rachel mumbled.

“Don’t be.” Hawke dismissed her with a wave
of his hand. “I spend a lot of time in the air.”

Max pushed himself out of his chair. “No need
to mention what you do up here.”

Hawke’s eyes widened and Rachel stifled a
giggle. The warm feeling of camaraderie between the two men took
the place of fright for a few brief seconds. And then the plane’s
engine roared to life. Rachel grasped the armrest until her
knuckles turned white.

Max nodded toward the nose of the plane.
“I’ll be up front.”

Hawke turned in his seat to face her.
“Rachel, have you flown before?”

She gave him a weak smile, one she hoped
would disguise her terror. “Once or twice,” she managed to say. “I
don’t get out much.”

“How about a drink?”

She gave him her best
yeah, right
look. Didn’t he remember how well she held her liquor? “No, thank
you. I’ll be fine, really. I brought a magazine to distract
me.”

Rachel leaned forward to pull her
Architectural Digest out of her bag just as the plane lurched. The
breath left her lungs in a whoosh as the seatbelt gave her stomach
a nice sucker punch.

“On second thought,” she said as she braced
herself back against the seat and squeezed her eyes closed, “I’ll
just sit here and enjoy the ride.”

“Rachel.”

She groaned and rolled her head toward the
sound of Hawke’s husky voice. She forced her eyes open. “I’m being
ridiculous.”

Heat warmed her as he placed her hand in his
and braided their fingers. “I promise, we’ll be fine.”

She gave his hand a slight squeeze to
convince him she wasn’t afraid. “Of course we will. Mechanical
failure accounts for most air accidents and I’m sure you checked
out the plane, right?”

“Um, no.”

Rachel’s eyes rounded until her vision
blurred. The man obviously spent thousands of dollars on an
eye-catching machine and didn’t check the mechanical systems? Her
mouth fell open to speak but nothing came out.

“Max did,” Hawke assured her, “and he’s
sitting in the cockpit with the pilot.”

Rachel released a slow breath and attempted
to compose herself. “Max can fly this beast?”

Hawke’s throaty chuckle soothed her knotted
nerves and she began to feel tension leak from her muscles. “I
haven’t found anything Max can’t do.”

Attempting to distract herself from the fact
the plane was now creeping down the runway, Rachel glanced around
the cabin. “Did you design this yourself?”

Hawke twisted his lips. “No, I leave design
to people like you.”

“It’s very tastefully done.”

“Glad you approve. How long have you been an
architect?”