Seduce Me (7 page)

“It’s pretty late for coffee,” he said, but she could see he was thinking about it.

“I make good decaf, too.”

“Sure. I’ve been fighting off stealing that box for a good five blocks.”

Showing her good faith in him, she let him hold the prize until she got her keys out. He held the door for her, and as soon as she crossed the threshold, Fred’s strident voice said, “Where the hell have you been, and why haven’t you answered your... Oh, hel-lo.”

The surprised look on Max’s face was one she’d remember for a long, long time. Sadly, she would remember all the other looks, too. Each and every one.

7

“M
AX
,
THIS
IS
F
RED
.
He lives here. And despite appearances, he’s not my dad or my conscience.”

Max relaxed into an offered handshake, but his smile was met with narrowed eyes. Fred was tall and thin, with dark reddish hair and a long face dominated at the moment by a look of suspicion.

“You’re the trading-card guy.” It didn’t sound much like a question.

He caught a glimpse of Natalie’s grin as she shook her head.

“Sort of.”

Fred looked from him to her and back. “Meaning...?”

“Right picture, wrong bio.”

“How’d that happen?”

Natalie slipped out of her heels. “Printing glitch. But it turned out to be a nice evening anyway. I’m making coffee,” she said pointedly at Max. “Still want some?”

“It’s after two in the morning,” Fred said, at the exact time Max said, “You know what?”

Natalie’s expression fell. “It is late.”

Max stepped closer to her and touched the back of her elbow. He hesitated to go upstairs, mostly because he wanted to. But it didn’t seem like a good idea. Fred’s presence had brought Natalie’s life into focus in a way her family at Lviv hadn’t. Probably because he knew her better now. Tonight was truly a one-off, an outlier for her. She was on a trajectory that suited her, with her safety net of friends and relatives around her. He didn’t fit, and her protective tenant had seen that immediately.

Behind him, Fred cleared his throat. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow, Nat.”

Natalie had her focus squarely on Max. “Yeah, okay.”

Fred’s door closing made the whole goodbye easier. First, Max slipped the box of cheesecake out of her hand so he could put it on the stairs. Then he moved closer so he could run his hands down both her arms. “I should go,” he said. “It’s been a great night. Thank you.”

She inhaled and gave him a quick nod. “You, too. I could never have imagined the evening turning out the way it has. If you had any idea what I’m like normally, you’d be more than shocked. But as far as mistakes go, you’ve been top-notch.”

“Then it was a success for both of us.”

It was a perfect exit line, and yet, he hesitated just long enough that he couldn’t hold back from leaning in for a last kiss. Even that was meant to be short and sweet. Instead, the second he felt her lips part, he slipped inside. Her soft whimper combined with her hands on the back of his neck set him in motion.

He pulled her tight against him as he guided her back and back until she was against the wall. They kissed as if they’d been practicing for ages, the ebb and flow, small partings that led to different angles and stolen breaths.

When his hand moved to her shoulder, on its way to the silk of her breast beneath that red dress, he stopped. Not just his hand, but his kiss, the way he pressed his half-hard cock against her dress.

She blinked up at him.

He studied her eyes in the light from the overhead lamp before he stepped back. He couldn’t see much of the house from this small foyer. A staircase with a dark wood banister, green-and-white fleur-de-lis wallpaper that seemed exactly right for the woman still in his arms. A light-year away from anything in his world. “I’m gonna...” He gave a nod at the front door.

She smiled, and her cheeks pinked up. “Please be careful on the way home. In fact, take a cab. You can get one easily on Houston.”

“Thanks. I will.” He let her go, and after the door closed behind him, he let the night go. It had been an interesting detour, but now he was on back on his own road.

* * *

N
ATALIE
KNOCKED
TWICE
. “You can come out now.”

Fred’s door opened so fast it made her jump. He had to have been standing there with his ear pressed to the wood. “Jesus, woman,” he said. “When you decide you’re not going out with anyone like Oliver Feinstein, you don’t mess around.”

She sighed. “There’s no way I’m falling asleep yet. Come up and have Italian cheesecake with me.”

He turned his head to look back at his room, and then marched right by her to the stairs. “You still have that bottle of Crown Royal you got for Christmas last year?”

“I do, although I shouldn’t give you any. I saw you steal my beer.”

“I’ll buy you more when I go to the store. So tell me how this all came about.” He reached her floor and waited impatiently for her to open it, peeking inside the box she thrust in his hand.

Once inside, Natalie flicked on the light and dropped her shoes by the coatrack and went straight into her long galley kitchen. She gathered the whiskey, two glasses and two forks, and met Fred at the table parked at the end of the room. After shoving everything but her fork toward him, she stared at what was left of the decadent cheesecake and knew she wouldn’t be able to eat a bite. That alone told her she might be in for trouble. Even worse, if Fred noticed... She tried not to whimper.

“Okay, now you’re making sex noises, and I thought we agreed never to do that.” He’d poured the whiskey and was digging in to the dessert.

She simply waited, taking a small piece of cake to avoid unwanted questions.

Fred was making yummy noises, but then he pointed his fork at her and said, “Enough foreplay. Tell me what happened tonight.”

She began at the beginning. The restaurant, the revelation, the aborted escape. On to restaurant two, the conversation, the dessert invitation...

Fred knew her well, and when she stopped talking, he stared at her with equal parts disbelief and
oh, my God.
“You didn’t.”

She pressed her lips together.

“Holy shit!” His gaze still locked on her, he shoveled in another forkful. “It’s too late to play coy now,” he said. “What’s his place like?”

“Sort of what you’d expect.” She shrugged, deciding how much she wanted to tell him. “Giant TV, masculine colors. Big, but nearly empty. It’s a loft, a nice one. Had to have cost a bundle even if he’d bought it during the days of real-estate bingo.”

Fred looked at her as if the debate team were having it out in his head. “I can’t express how much I never wanted to know anything about your relationship with Oliver. There simply aren’t words. And since I’m not actually your best girlfriend, it’s probably inappropriate as hell for me to ask now. But was he amazing? He looked like he’d be amazing.”

She felt herself blush for what had to be the hundredth time tonight. She and Fred were really close. He was like the brother she’d always wanted. But they’d never gone into details about intimate things. Of course she knew his history, that although he’d been single for a couple of years, he wasn’t anymore. His longtime friend Tony had become something more.

Which didn’t change the fact that she and Fred filled the void for each other where more outgoing people would have a bunch of friends, people they’d call to go shopping or to movies or concerts. She knew a lot of librarians and archivists, but the only one who came close to being a real friend was Denise. They saw each other at book and film events and sometimes socially. But they were content to catch up with each other when it felt right and not just for the sake of touching base.

It would cross a boundary, telling Fred more than she had. But this was evidently her night to leap. “Amazing doesn’t even come close,” she said, her cheeks reheating epically. She could have roasted marshmallows on them.

“Good for you.” Fred squeezed her hand and smiled his real smile, the one that was a little asymmetrical, but endearing. The one he rarely showed in public.

“It was terrifying. I hardly believed it was me.”

“I’m so glad. You had to get Oliver’s fingerprints off you once and for all. Not just Oliver. You don’t need to settle. You’re a fantastic person. You don’t think enough of yourself, Nat, and it’s a shame.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Fred wasn’t grinning any longer. “I know. It’s how I can recognize it clearly in you.”

“Well, this got awfully deep, awfully fast.”

“Sorry,” he said, pushing the remaining quarter of the cheesecake toward her.

“It’s fine. I honestly don’t mind. But you do realize this was a one-night thing. I’m not going to see Max again.”

Leaning back in his chair, Fred shook his head as he pulled out his oft-used puzzled expression. “That’s not the vibe I got.”

“It’s the vibe that was there. Trust me. The only reason I was able to go for it was because I’d never see him again. Seriously, he’s into one-night stands and staying single.”

“Please, please tell me this wasn’t sleazy. He wasn’t condescending or acting like he was doing you a favor, was he?”

“God, no. Not even. I wasn’t kidding when I said we had a great time together. It was the best date I’ve ever had, bar none. Because we were honest with each other. We both had plenty of opportunities to walk away with no regrets. He was a gentleman, and he was quite attentive.”

“Okay. Just checking. It’s a rough city out there.”

“Thanks for worrying, but no. It was inspiring and illuminating and he’s probably ruined me for other men. At least for a while. I don’t mind, though. It was worth it, if for nothing else but to show me what to ask for. What to reach for.”

“An attorney with a big loft?”

“A man who gets pleasure from giving it. A man who pays attention and goes out of his way to be careful. Who listens.”

“Okay.” Fred got up, pushed his chair in and finished the last dregs of his whiskey. “Does this trading-card thing have a gay edition?”

“No, but that’s a fabulous idea. You should start one.”

“Yeah. I’ll get right on that. Think you can sleep?”

“Nope. Maybe. But I don’t have to get up until ten-thirty. If I’m willing to have the quickest shower in history.”

“I hate to tell you, sweetheart, but even if you conk out when your head hits the pillow, you’re not going to get your regular eight.”

“Regular eights are for ordinary days. I’ll live.”

He kissed her cheek. “You did good tonight. That inspiration thing is catching. Although I’m happy with Tony for now.”

She looked up at her friend. “I’m glad.”

Fred eyed the cheesecake and her clean fork with a worried look. Thankfully he just smiled and headed for the stairs. Cleanup was a snap, but when she finally crawled between her sheets, the night and alcohol caught up with her, and before she’d even finished reliving the way Max had looked at her over dinner, she slipped into sleep.

* * *

O
N
S
UNDAY
, M
AX
was still in recuperation mode. At least today he wouldn’t be fielding phone calls from his office, headhunters trying to convince him to jump ship. Not that he minded the second category of calls.

He’d planned on going to his local bar, but his couch had proven too comfortable. Surprisingly, his inertia had more to do with his night with Natalie than laziness. The odds of meeting someone as interesting were not in his favor.

As often as he’d daydreamed about having time to himself without the crushing pressure of the tort case, unstructured down time wasn’t his friend. He should have realized it. He was a planner, always thinking about the next move, the next angle. He was damn good at scheduling his life so he didn’t get overwhelmed.

Until the second year of the case, that was. His enormous workload didn’t leave him with a spare moment to do anything besides sleep, eat and work out—and he’d finally hit a wall. The workouts were the only thing that saved him.

That was probably why he felt so out of sync now. Tomorrow he’d go back to the gym, get his blood pumping and his muscles straining. It wouldn’t take him long to find his rhythm again. While he didn’t regret spending an idle week in recovery, the next two weeks were earmarked for getting serious about his future. In the legal arena, he was the it guy of the moment, which was great for his ego, but he couldn’t let it get to him. A man who let his ego call the shots was looking for trouble. Luckily for him, his inherent need to plan and control his own destiny would keep him in check.

He’d always known there was the potential for a top-notch lawyer in a prominent firm to make big money. He simply hadn’t realized how big. Not until he’d earned a spot at the heavy hitters’ table. The dollar figures being thrown around were ridiculous. Enough to tempt anyone. Whether he stayed with his firm or went elsewhere, he’d have it made financially. But he’d be expected to work his ass off. Normal people didn’t stay at the office past ten every single night. He shuddered to think of the divorce rate in the legal community. And that was the other thing. Someday—not soon, but someday—he wanted a family.

For now the hard work wasn’t a problem. That didn’t mean he was willing to trade the rest of his life for a fat bank account and a corner office. His love of the law had always been his motivation to become an attorney. And making good money and having nice things, like his loft, his expensive suits and a great wine collection, sure helped.

It was a great deal, actually. He’d become accustomed to nice things. Between the cash and the flattery, it was tough to stay centered and make the right decision. If he got a bad vibe from a firm, no sweat, he’d turn down even the most extravagant offer. But whether he should stay with Latham or jump ship was a lot more complicated. He’d be dealing with some of the smoothest talkers in the world. Despite the treacherous road ahead, he was ready to get off his ass and start the ball rolling. Talking himself up wasn’t his favorite thing, but he could do it when it counted. Hell, he’d had the perfect opportunity to brag about his accomplishments to Natalie. After all, the case had been all over the papers. But he hadn’t said a word to her about it.

Natalie.

He thought about her quite a lot. He’d discovered that a film she’d talked about was on the tube tonight. It was called
M.
Just
M,
and it was about to begin. Although he’d known it was shot in black and white, he hadn’t realized it was in German with subtitles. That would mean paying attention, and he wasn’t sure he had it in him. But he’d give it a few minutes.