Rock Me All Night (2 page)

“Single?” Ray asked.

Ty glanced at Ray but didn't say anything.

“Yes.”

“Did you speak to Lauren?”

“Yes,” Jack said.

“So are you going to do it?”

“Do what?”

“Nothing,” Ray said, when Didi nudged him.

Jack looked at Ty. “I need to speak to you privately for a moment.”

Ty nodded and turned to Ray and Didi. “I'll be up in a minute and we can finish going over the details.”

Didi and Ray left the hall. Jack waited until the door closed behind them before he turned to his brother. “I want to know more about Lauren Belchoir.”

“Why? You said you'd heard enough about her.”

Jack wished they were twelve and nine again so he could get Ty into a headlock and force the answers he wanted out of his brother without having to answer a bunch of questions. But those days were gone, and Jack firmly reminded himself that mature men didn't have to beat up their younger brothers to get answers. “I ran into her.”

Ty rubbed his chin. Jack knew he should never have brought up the subject. But the summer scent of her hair lingered with each breath he took and the remembered feel of her hand in his still made his palm tingle.

“She's a good worker, never late, hardly ever calls in sick. She bakes cookies for holidays and will work overtime without complaining.” An unholy mirth shone from Ty's eyes.

“I'm not thinking about hiring her. Tell me some personal stuff.”

“I thought you were dating some blonde. Besides, I have work to do.”

“Ty…”

“Okay, but she's out of your league. She comes from a real traditional family—not like the how-many-marriages-can-I-have one like ours. Her mom is Evelina Belchoir. She has a syndicated television talk show for couples.”

He'd heard of her mom. Which said a lot, because Jack didn't watch television. But Moira, his secretary, took her lunch break every day at one o'clock so she wouldn't miss a minute of Evelina's advice.

Jack and Ty's mom had been the stay-at-home, cookies-after-school type, but she'd kept marrying, trying to find something…Jack still didn't know what. She was motherly and doting and she'd move the world for her boys. But she'd never had good relationship skills.

“Does Lauren date?” Jack asked. He wanted to know everything about her. God, what did that say about him? Why did he have a hunger for her when they'd only just met? He had no answers.

“Funny you should ask. She's got her listeners searching for Mr. Right. In fact, the idea for this Mile of Men promotion came from her show. You should tune in to her show tonight,” Ty said with that sly grin of his.

Jack shrugged. Ty said goodbye and went into his meeting. Jack walked out to his car on the snowy February Tuesday. He didn't know what to make of Lauren, but he knew he wasn't going to let her be.

L
auren wasn't sure she liked the idea of being on in the morning, when more listeners would be tuning in. But the matter was out of her hands.

She adjusted her headphones as the last notes of Marvin Gaye's “Sexual Healing” played. The song had long been a favorite of hers, but tonight it had been requested by one of her listeners who'd gotten off work early and was heading home to his wife. Three o'clock was a weird time of night. Usually she took callers and just talked out her own problems.

God, she was a mess. Because tonight the only thing she'd been able to think about was Jack Montrose. She'd found a picture of him in
Radio and
Records
magazine. The issue was a few months old and had been playing up the fact that he'd taken a passion for doing what he loved and made it into a profitable venture. Speed Demon Records produced only new artists who created music in the spirit of old Motown classics from the forties and fifties.

“That was Marvin Gaye for Larry, heading home to his wife. If you're just tuning in, I'll be moving to the morning drive show starting next week. And I'm still searching for Mr. Right.

“I'm taking callers tonight to be signed up for WCPD's first annual Mile of Men. We're looking for Detroit's sexiest men to line Woodward Avenue starting at the Fox Theatre. Eligible women will then drive by and select a man by the number on his chest. They'll spend the day together and then everyone will be treated to a party at the Hilton downtown.

“Complete rules are available on our Web site. Listeners, you know I've been searching for Mr. Right, so help me find one to choose from for the station's big event.”

Lauren pushed the button for the commercial break and looked over at the panel phones that were flashing with callers. Rodney, her producer, was answering the calls that came in and sending her a queue on her computer screen. She'd worked with Rodney for the last three years, and they had a good rhythm. Lauren read the caller names. Jack on line two made her pause.
Jack Montrose?

Then she chided herself. It was three o'clock in the morning. Surely someone like Jack Montrose had other things to do than listen to her show.

She still had a minute-thirty until the commercial break was over. She pushed line two. “Hello, caller.”

“Lauren?” he asked. His voice brushed over her like the remembered warmth of a summer's day.

She took a quick inward breath. It was him. She had no idea what to say. She almost dropped the call. But she'd never been cowardly with anyone and she wasn't about to start behaving that way now. “Jack Montrose.”

“Am I on the air?” he asked.

Though she probably would have been smarter to wait until they were on the air, she hadn't. “No.”

“Good. I'm not much on being in the public eye.”

“I thought you didn't listen to my show.”

“Once I met you, I had to give it a listen.” Amusement laced his words. He sounded relaxed and almost lazy.

She pictured him sitting in front of a warm fire in a luxuriously appointed den, with a brandy snifter in his hand. The fire would flicker over his skin, which would be warm to the touch. In her mind, she put herself in the room with him. Settled next to him on an overstuffed couch. But those kinds of dreams were dangerous.

No one knew that better than her. She'd been loved and left many times. Bob was only the most recent.
The men who turned her on were always all wrong for her.

“What do you think of the show?” she asked. She didn't need his approval. But she wanted him to like what she did. This was a big part of who she was. More than a job, it was a calling, and she liked the dark hours after midnight.

“That I was right about your voice. You've been driving me out of my mind all night. Between that and those seductive songs you play.” There was something alluring in his voice.

It didn't help matters that she'd spent the entire evening thinking of him as the slow, sensual songs played out. She remembered his hand on her shoulder. His touch burning through the thin layer of her clothing. What would it be like to have him caress her bare skin?

She shivered. Damn it. She was at work. Rodney rapped on the glass separating them and gestured to the clock. Forty-five seconds remained on the break.

“They were all requests. Do you have one? Is that why you called?”

“No. I called to talk to you. To have you to myself for a few minutes.”

She couldn't respond to that. It was as if somehow he'd glimpsed a part of her she'd always hidden. She wanted to be some man's late-night fantasy. Not like Bob, who'd dumped her at midnight, saying that she was too independent and made him feel like a wimp.

“I've got to get back to work.”

“Can I meet you for coffee when you're done with your shift?”

“Why?” she asked. God, she was running out of time. And she didn't know if she was happy about it. Be happy, she warned herself. This man has danger written all over him. Not physical jeopardy but the more chancy kind that would leave scars on her already battered heart.

“I want to get to know you better, Lauren.”

She closed her eyes. She should just hang up. But she couldn't. She wanted to get to know him better, as well. Wanted for the first time in her life to be wrong about a guy. But this wasn't just about her. Ray thought Jack was perfect for the Mile of Men. “Give Rodney your number and I'll call you back.”

 

Jack sank deeper into the leather seat of his Jaguar and let the sensuous sounds of Lauren's voice play over him. He sat in the nearly deserted parking lot of WCPD. Lauren had agreed to a quick cup of coffee, and he didn't question the reasons why getting to know this one woman was so important to him. He only knew that he had to see her again.

In the long hours since their morning encounter he'd been plagued by the memory of her shoulder under his palm, her fingers brushing his and the surety that her lips would be soft under his.

He'd called the woman he'd been seeing and told
her he couldn't see her anymore. She'd been disappointed but not overly so. The fact that their relationship had ended after only four months didn't really bother either of them. It had been…satisfying while it lasted.

But he knew he wasn't going to rest easy until he'd unraveled the mystery of Lauren. Was this what his father felt each time he met a new woman? Or was this the thing that eluded both of his parents, that kept them searching?

He heard her sign off and turned off his car. He climbed out of the vehicle and headed toward the entrance of the building.

He could have called Ty and asked him for the security code to unlock the lobby doors, but Jack was reluctant to give his brother any more fodder. Instead he stood in the cold Detroit night, huddling deeper into his wool overcoat and waiting for a woman who could be the beginning of a new six-month chapter in his life.

When he'd turned sixteen, Jack had realized that his life seemed to move in six-month cycles. Friends, his mother's boyfriends, father's girlfriends, sports—all seemed to last only that long. He'd tested his theory a couple of times and it had proved true. His own interest in new things lasted no more than six months. The only enduring interest he'd found was his love of music.

Women, music, cars, houses. He surrounded him
self with whatever was fashionable and pleasurable at the moment and felt no qualms when it was time to move on. It was an inescapable part of his nature, and he'd come to terms with it.

The door opened and he stepped forward. For a minute he couldn't breathe. Her thick black hair curled around her heart-shaped face. She tilted her head to the side, studying him in the harsh glow of the security lamp.

“Hello, Jack.”

Her voice was even more potent in person, brushing over his senses and starting a tingling at the base of his spine. He wanted to feel those full lips of hers against his skin while she spoke.

“Lauren,” he said. Oh, yeah, he was a smooth talker.

“You want to follow me to the diner I mentioned on the phone?” She pulled a pair of leather gloves from her pocket and put them on.

“I'll drive us.”

He cupped her elbow and led her across the parking lot to his car. He knew she didn't need his assistance to walk across the pavement, but he had been unable to wait another second to touch her. Even in such an avuncular way.

Rationally he knew he couldn't feel the softness of her skin through the layers of coat and gloves. But with the sweet floral scent of her perfume filling his nostrils, he imagined he could. Damn, he wished it
was summer and she was wearing something that bared her arms.

“You were listening to my show,” she said.

“Yes.” He reached out and flicked off the radio. He backed out of the parking lot and headed for the diner she'd mentioned. “Interesting show. Tell me about your listeners fixing you up.”

“Oh, that. Well, I kind of have a horrible track record with men. The latest and greatest being my fiancé, Bob, who dumped me on New Year's Eve at a huge party that my parents threw for us. We were supposed to announce our engagement that night.”

“Ouch.”

She gave him a half smile. “Yeah. But one thing I realized after I got over the anger and the embarrassment was that I didn't really miss Bob. Which made me start thinking about the men I seemed to be drawn to. I decided to take a page from my mom's book.”

“Which is?”

“Throw the problem out to the listeners and see what they come up with. My mom's a TV talk-show host.”

“I know. My secretary is a huge fan.”

“Not you?”

“No. I solve my own problems.”

“Big macho man.”

He chuckled. She made him feel good deep inside. He liked that she wasn't intimidated by who he was. “Yeah, that's me.”

“So what's your usual problem-solving method?” she asked. Her tone was softer than a moment before, and he realized that she was doing the same thing he was—feeling him out and searching for answers about the person behind the spark that had flashed between them.

“What do you think?” he asked. He braked to a stop for a red light and glanced at her. Her features looked delicate in the half light that filled the car. She seemed like something ethereal that might slip away. A kind of sexy pixie that had happened into his car by accident and could disappear at any second.

“Something involving a club,” she said, waggling her eyebrows at him.

The light changed and he eased forward. “Nice, Belchoir. Really nice. But you're not quite on the mark. I'm not the violent type.”

She bit her lower lip, and for a moment his foot slipped off the gas pedal. Her lips were luscious and he wanted to feel them under his own.

“Yeah, but you're not passive either.”

“Certainly not around you.”

“What's that mean?” she asked.

“Just that I don't normally leave my home in the middle of the night to have coffee with a woman.”

“Should I feel flattered?”

“Don't get sassy.”

“Sorry. I'm just afraid.”

“Of me?”

“I guess. There's something about you, Jack Montrose, that makes me wish…”

“What?”

“For something experience has taught me doesn't exist.”

He didn't want to know what that thing was. There was a sadness in her voice and in her eyes that made him want to pull her into his arms and promise her he'd never let her feel that way again. And he knew that he wasn't the kind of man who could really make promises like that. Dammit. He knew then that this coffee thing was a mistake, and one he wouldn't repeat. Because Lauren wasn't like the women he'd dated in the past. She wasn't going to be satisfied with only six months, and for the first time in his life he wondered if he would be.

 

Lauren ordered a chai, and Jack ordered regular coffee and added a little cream to it. An awkward silence filled the space between them. She didn't know what to say to him. They'd only just met and yet she felt as if she'd known him forever.

Lauren toyed with her spoon until Jack reached across the table and covered her hand with his. His hand was big and warm. His nails were buffed and square—nicer looking than hers, because despite her mother's lectures, Lauren still bit them. She was a little embarrassed and thought she should pull her hand away.

“Nervous?” he asked.

His voice seemed even deeper in the early morning hour. He wore an Icelandic cable-knit sweater and a pair of jeans so faded and soft that they clung to his thighs. She wished she'd slid in beside him on the bench seat in the booth instead of playing it safe. She wanted to be cuddled next to his big frame. To lean against his shoulder and just listen to him talk.

“No. You're just a guy and I already got your number.”

He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles before stroking the center of her palm. Little tingles of awareness spread upward, making her shift restlessly on the bench.

“Just a guy. That's harsh. How many guys have picked you up after work and taken you to a classy joint like this one for coffee?”

Lauren glanced around the diner. It had character. The chrome-and-Formica tables and vinyl-padded seats were never going to grace the pages of any style magazine. But she liked it. “This place isn't that bad.”

“What about the guy?”

She shifted her hand in his grip and held his large one in hers, palm up. She traced the lines on his palm with her free hand, keeping her gaze firmly away from Jack's stormy one that seemed to see too much.

“Lauren?”

“The guy's not bad either.” She dropped his hand and wrapped both of hers around her hot teacup to
rid herself of all connection to Jack. He was disturbing to her on too many levels.

“What's the problem then?”

God, she was a mess. She should have gone on her mother's show. “Girls Who Can't Trust Their Own Instincts.” It would probably be a ratings boon, and people across the country would give advice on why she shouldn't be sitting in this booth with Jack Montrose.