Ten Good Reasons (11 page)

“Exactly.”

She leaned back. Another sip. Fire in her belly . . . fireworks in her brain . . .

“I’m experienced with him,” she went on. “As a client. I know what he wants, and what my boss wants him to want, and we know how to handle him.”

“Got it.” Evan was frowning at her curiously.

She took another deep sip. Swirled her glass. “We’ve gotta . . . My boss . . . She
knows
him. And
anything he wants
, you know?”

The lines in Evan’s forehead deepened and he lifted his own glass. Sniffed it.

“She wants me . . . to do
anything
 . . . I mean,
anything
he wants. . . .” The thoughts were getting muddied in her head for some reason. Wasn’t that what Evan had told her? That she didn’t have to do whatever Kyle wanted? And didn’t the Vampiress say the opposite thing? So why was she telling Evan this? And were those ice sculptures moving? Maybe they were just melting. “I mean, I know you said . . .” She strained to remember if she was arguing a point or not.

She reached for her glass again, but he slid his hand over it.
“Let’s hold off on this a minute. Bartender?” He motioned for two waters.

Before she could voice her indignation, or even snatch her glass back, he leaned forward and locked her gaze with the eyes she forgot were so blue.

“Listen.” He dropped his voice. “He might want to invest in Drew’s boat, so you don’t need to convince him of anything tonight. Why don’t you just stick with me, and we can enjoy dinner, then I’ll get you home.”

“How do you
know
?” Her mouth had a hard time getting around the
n
sound. Dang, what was she drinking?

“He told me in the limo. I asked if he was—”

“E-
van
!”

He had the decency to look sheepish.

“Stop
speaking
for me! Stop
protecting
me. Stop doing my job for me. Stop taking my wineglass away. Stop talking to my client about my business. I’m
fine
.”

He studied her for a second, then shifted uncomfortably and looked away.

“You got it?”

His jaw muscle danced as he nodded, but he didn’t meet her eyes.

“You need to stop this caveman behavior.”

“
Caveman
behavior?”

“Yes, caveman behavior. This overprotectiveness. It’s unbecoming.”

He flashed her a quick, angry look.

“Why do you feel the need to do those things?” She really wanted to know. Not just from Evan but from all men.

He shook his head and looked away. Lines crossed his forehead.

“No, I really want to know. Do I seem stupid to you? Too ‘Cinderella’?”

He switched his scowl to the bar and stared at his fists.

“I need some words here.”

He reached for his water glass, not seeming like he was going to answer, but finally he took a deep breath. “I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Then what is it?”

“I think you’re trusting.”

Ah . . .
Now
they were getting somewhere. She knew a euphemism when she heard one.

“You mean gullible, don’t you?”

“Did I say gullible?”

“No, but maybe you don’t say what you mean.”

“I say what I mean.”

“So say more. You think I’m trusting and what?”

He looked away.

“Trusting and what?”

“Optimistic.”

She leaned back in her seat. She was getting good at this. Interrogating Captain Betancourt. It was kind of fun. And, for some reason, she was starving for these answers.

“So is that bad? Optimism?” she asked.

“It can be.”

“Why is that bad?”

“It can make you look at the world with unrealistic expectations. Make you think it’s filled with good things when really it’s filled with bad.”

“So you came tonight to protect me and Avery from being too optimistic?”

He shrugged.

“Too trusting of Kyle?”

“Probably.”

“You’re going to
save
me from Kyle?”

“It’s possible.”

“A successful, wealthy, Armani-wearing Harvard grad? You’re going to save me from him?”

Evan sighed and stared at his glass. “None of those things makes him necessarily trustworthy.”

“Maybe you’re just too suspicious.”

“Maybe I am.”

The richness of the wine, or maybe the intense look in his eyes, or maybe the sudden loneliness she saw around the lines of his mouth made a heat simmer low in her belly, and she took a step away from the conversation. Some kind of intensity was building between them, and it made her feel like she was coming too close to a flame.

“Listen, I don’t want to make you mad,” he said.

She had to lean in to hear him. It sounded almost like an
apology. And also like something that didn’t fall naturally from his lips.

“Maybe I’m concerned about Drew, too,” he added.

She talked her heart back into a normal rhythm and took a deep breath. Okay. That could be true. He could be overstepping all kinds of boundaries because he was a naturally suspicious person,
and
because of his brother. That made sense, right? She struggled to organize a few columns of logic in her head.

While she waited for a hopeful return to sobriety, she checked Evan out. Although maybe checking him out with a slight buzz wasn’t the best idea. His hanging hair was looking sexier and sexier, especially the way he snapped it out of his eyes with some kind of vengeance. His dark lashes, now lowered to his water glass, were longer than she’d first noticed. Through the darkened room, through the sultry music, he looked like passion personified.

He had changed into a dark button-down shirt, rolled up at the sleeves, and a pair of darker jeans. She liked the vague rebellion of the jeans. It felt almost like what she was doing, with the work dress. Forrest would have been ultra-respectful in Kyle’s swanky club—probably a bit over-the-top, in fact—wearing a pressed shirt with some kind of stylish, unbuttoned vest. And Lia probably would have complimented him on his good taste. But right now, for some reason, all she wanted was to run her hand up Evan’s irreverent jeans and lick his insolent five-o’clock shadow.

“Hello.” A strange-looking host suddenly arrived at Lia’s shoulder. “Mr. Stevens and Miss James are having dinner in a private den in the dance club. He said he’d love for you both to join them. They’re in Den Thirteen.”

Lia lifted her eyebrow at Evan, but he didn’t seem surprised.

“Your steak is already served, sir.” The host bowed slightly. “Come with me.”

“You already ordered steak?” she whispered as they left the bar.

“Stevens seemed insistent on enjoying his club’s specialties, including the girls and the steak. It
has
been a while.”

“Eating steak?”

The corner of his mouth crooked upward. “Yes, Cinderella, eating steak. What did you think I meant?”

Eating steak.
Of course. Of course that’s what she meant. . . .

She cleared her throat and concentrated on following the host. She wanted to turn and make more casual conversation with Evan—ask him more about sailing, about why he was away for so long, about his dead wife, about his relationship with Drew. But the clip with which they were walking, along with the loud music, made conversation difficult.

Besides, he seemed more interested in a good meal right now than in her.

And besides that, she was too buzzed to keep her wits about her with a man who was causing a tingling between her legs.

She didn’t know whether to dread or look forward to Den Thirteen.

CHAPTER

E
van dragged his feet all the way to the den, keeping his head down and his hand in his pocket as they carved their way through the nauseating beat and the crowds that had suddenly filled the dance floor.

Cinderella peeked behind Curtain Thirteen and then waved him in. His stomach clenched. This was not going to go well.

For one, Cinderella was drunk. Well, not drunk, but leaning toward it. He didn’t know what the hell kind of wine Kyle had ordered, but it was knocking her on her ass. And he didn’t want her to have so many defenses down if they were going to see Stevens. Especially with her willingness to trust anyone with a Harvard degree and nice shoes.

Two, Stevens was probably smashed. And capable of anything.

And three, Evan was completely turned on. And he probably shouldn’t be trusted with her, either. He didn’t know if it was all these waitresses in short skirts, the women at the bar licking the ice sculptures, or his memory of Cinderella’s flashing eyes when her anger was riled, but he’d been aroused
for the last half hour. And these ice sculptures weren’t helping.

“Lia! Evan! Come in!” Kyle held out his arm and motioned to two spaces around a purple ottoman that seemed to be used as a dining table. Candles in colored-glass jars covered the room. In the center of the ottoman sat two more bottles of the same wine Kyle had sent to Evan and Lia. “Meet Sara and Holden,” he said.

Lia and Evan nodded to each of them. Sara’s pretty face was illuminated in candlelight. She seemed to be in her early twenties, and smiled at Evan before she turned back to young Holden, who seemed about her age.

Lia lowered herself to a bright pink pillow with gaudy fringe all around it, and Evan took one beside her after scooting it away a bit. The techno dance music drifted through the curtain. Avery had her eyes closed and bounced a bare foot. She pulled a tube from a three-foot-high bejeweled hookah pipe that sat just behind her and giggled as she sent a series of smoke rings into the air. They glowed a sort of yellow against the burning candles.

Kyle wasn’t paying much attention to Evan or Lia anymore, having turned his attention back to Avery’s mouth. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Evan could pretend this was a normal dinner, then get the women out of here.

He took in the steaks and small bowls of food and candles across the ottoman. “Strange way to eat,” he said to Holden, who was the only one looking at him.

“It’s meant to engage all your senses,” Holden said, throwing a grin toward Sara. “You can touch one another while eating, eat with your hands, lean in together, feed one another. . . .” His explanation was lost as he found Sara’s mouth.

Shit.

Evan glanced at Lia, who was gaping at the couple, but then she adjusted her gaze toward the dinner.

“Have something.” Kyle slipped his cell into his pocket and leaned toward Cinderella, letting poor Avery slide off his shoulder. Avery laughed with undue hilarity. Her toes kicked elegantly to the music. Evan ran his hand down his face. This was going to be an adventure.

Kyle called a few more waitresses in and made sure everyone had what they needed. Holden continued to feed Sara. Evan wolfed down his steak with a singular focus. Although the steak was the best thing he’d had in months, he really just wanted to get everyone out of here. He glanced at Lia’s plate a few times. She was hardly eating. He wished she’d eat faster to offset the booze and so they could leave, but he didn’t dare say anything. She’d called him a caveman one too many times already.

“The band that comes on at one is amazing,” Kyle announced. “Have you guys heard of Indecency?”

“I love to dance!” Avery said, offering a short shimmy to prove it. “Are they a dance band?”

“They are,” Kyle said. “You’ll love them. And the girls start dancing at one—the go-go dancers in the holograms. You have to see it. I want to find one for Evan.”

Cinderella lifted her head.

“I can go-go for Evan!” Avery said, giggling.

Kyle laughed. “Can you get your babysitter to stay later?”

“I could call and—”

“No!” Evan interjected. “No, we need to get home.”

Kyle looked at him as if he were the crusty old dean, then motioned for another waitress. “Send Kendra in, will you?” The waitress nodded and left.

Kyle turned toward Lia. “So did you and Evan have a romantic drink at the bar? Or maybe a dance?”

Shit.

“
Romantic
?” Lia laughed. “No, but it was delicious. Decadent. And we didn’t dance, but we enjoyed your bar. It’s beautiful, by the way.”

Kyle slid a glance at Evan.

Shit again.

“Well, our DJ is fabulous,” Kyle said. “His name is Master X. I don’t think you can leave without one dance.” He stood and held his hand out to her.

“We really have to get going, Kyle,” Evan said, pushing his plate back.

“No, look, I ordered dessert for everyone.” Kyle motioned to the waitresses who entered with lavish dessert trays, piled
high with all kinds of cakes and chocolate-covered tall things. Avery, Lia, Holden, and Sara all leaned forward and let out small exclamations.

Kyle’s eyes met Evan’s. “Just stay long enough for dessert.”

Crap. Kyle leaned over and said something into Lia’s ear.

“We’ll be right back,” he said, lifting Lia gracefully in the candlelight. She gazed up at him. Evan couldn’t even look at them. It occurred to him that he’d never made her look that happy once in two days. . . . Except maybe when she’d been looking at the dolphins . . . But he hadn’t brought her that; nature had.

Kyle dragged Cinderella through the curtain, and Evan felt a crushing sense of defeat. He simply stared at Holden and Sara, who were going at it now across four colored pillows, grinding to the techno music. Avery had moved back to a fainting couch in the back of the den, taking another drag on the pipe. She lay against the cushions, eyes closed, a deep grin on her face.

Evan glanced at the curtain with increasing unease.

“Avery?” he called. “Where are your shoes?”

“Captain Betancourt, this is the most incredible place.” She rolled onto her stomach, tucking her fist under her chin. “Don’t you think?”

“How much have you had to drink, Avery?” He looked under the ottoman for her shoes, hoping they hadn’t slid underneath the energetic young Holden and Sara.

“Just a little. But this drink . . . the food . . . the banana hookah . . .” Her hand waved across the room. “It’s incredible. I haven’t felt this delicious in
years
.”

Another cigarette girl came through the curtain into the den, this one with the same hat and feather the last cigarette girl wore, but a different color. Her long blond hair was twisted into some kind of promise down one side of her breasts, which were being pushed upward in an almost cartoonish way from the tight dress she wore. The candlelight played across her skin, but Evan’s attention was diverted to a deck of cards she pulled out of her box and shoved beneath his nose.

“Mr. Stevens wants to know if you’re ready to cut the deck yet.”

Evan frowned for a second, staring at the deck, then clenched his jaw.

That fucker
 . . .

*   *   *

Evan managed to pry Avery from the couch, supporting her as she crumbled against his shoulder, and finally found her shoes behind the fainting couch.

She leaned against him like a sandbag as he helped her across the blinking floor, which was shoulder-to-shoulder people now. Couples bumped into him from every direction, and the
boom-qua, boom-qua, boom-qua
tune pounded through his head as Avery kept slipping down his hip. “Avery, keep moving. Like you’re dancing,” he shouted.

Damn. Getting her through this crowd, out to a car, and into her own front door was going to be a miracle tonight.

He finally got out to the concrete hallway and was relieved to see one of the bodyguards he remembered. This was the shaved-head one.

“Hey, uh—Tom, right? Remember me? Whale-watching boat?”

“Oh, hey, man.”

“Your boss called a car for me and Avery here, and Lia, who was on the boat with us.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s here.” He guided Evan toward the front door, past the line that still wove through the velvet ropes and into the rain.

Evan pressed back. “No. I need to wait for Lia.”

“You and your lady here can take the car, and we’ll call another one.”

Evan blew out a breath. There was no fucking way he was leaving Lia here with Kyle.

The car pulled up, and Evan made an attempt to keep Avery from tripping over the complicated shoes he probably didn’t buckle right. One of the straps flapped in the rain, and she stepped into a puddle and squealed. Her shoe toppled off.

It took what felt like an eternity, but he finally unloaded her into the backseat of the car and got her address deciphered.

“Your boss will be grateful,” he told the driver. “He’s been with her all night, but he wanted me to take her out here to
you.” Evan hoped that was enough culpability to put on Kyle to ensure this driver got her home. He slammed the door, tapped once on the roof, and turned back toward the club.

Now to get Lia.

*   *   *

The music throbbed low in her belly as Lia leaned against the metal rail that surrounded the now-crowded ice bar, staring at the nearest melting torso. Kyle was swapping her drink out for “something else.”

She took a deep breath. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Maybe Evan was partially right: Kyle probably wasn’t above trying to get her into bed. On the one hand, she was flattered: He could have anyone in the county, surely. But on the other hand, she was insulted: She wanted him to admire her for her work and her brilliant marketing plans. She wasn’t another body to be commemorated with one night of dripping ice water.

“Here we go,” he said, sidling up to her with a huge glass filled with a dark burgundy drink.

“Is this what I had at dinner?”

“You said you liked it.” A worry line dipped his eyebrow.

“I did. Is this it?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t admit it’s a little strong—it’s a tawny port. We found it on a vineyard in Portugal.”

She took a sip. The richness filled her throat again. “It’s fabulous.”

His grin took up his whole face. “It pleases me that you like it.”

It didn’t go to her head quite as quickly as before, thank goodness. A full stomach helped. But it still swirled more than most. She’d have to watch herself. Small sips. Checking Evan out while buzzed—who would never in a million years make a move on her—was one thing, but losing herself around Kyle would be something different.

“So you travel to Portugal?” she asked.

“I travel all over. Have you ever been?”

“No, but I’d like to. I’d like to go to France. And Spain. And Italy.”

“Where have you been?”

“Nowhere.”

“
Nowhere
? Lia, say it ain’t so.”

“Sad, huh? Elle has me working like a coal miner. I told myself I’d do a different country every year on my birthday, starting right after college. I wanted to just show up to an airport every year and choose off the board. But that plan never materialized, since I started working for Elle as soon as I graduated.”

“When’s your birthday?”

“December.”

“I’m calling Elle tomorrow and insisting she give you time off. And I’m taking you to Portugal in December.”

Lia smiled. If only life were that easy.

“So what’s this I hear about a boyfriend?” He stepped closer, his arm around her back, half trapping her.

Lia took another sip of wine. “Where did you hear I had a boyfriend?”

“Your boat captain mentioned it. Warning me off you, I think.”

A warmth slid through her body. Easy, girl. She didn’t know what to react to first—that Kyle was clearly flirting, that he and Evan had been discussing her behind her back, or that Evan had been thinking of her somehow in the context of dating.

That last thought—or maybe the richness of the port—sent the warmth from her stomach to her thighs, and settled right between her legs.

Damn it. She didn’t want to have these reactions to Evan.

She put the wineglass down.

“So where is this boyfriend now?” Kyle’s breath blew the tendrils at her hairline.

She inched away. “Bora Bora.”

“
Bora Bora
? He’s got a beautiful girlfriend who wants to see the world, and he’s alone in Bora Bora? I don’t think that’s very smart.”

Lia refused to be egged on. She stood straighter, but the wine caused her to lose her balance and she gripped the rail, her hand slipping and touching the ice. Kyle watched all the movements but didn’t lean in to help.

“He can do what he wants.” Her mouth was having trouble forming
W
s now. “We have a very mature relationship.”

“Mature?” Kyle’s mouth twisted. “Maybe you need something that’s more fun than mature.”

“No, mature is great.”

“Mature sounds boring.”

She laughed against her better judgment. Maybe it was, a little. She’d certainly never accuse Forrest of being too exciting. And they’d never had wild sex. In fact, they’d never had sex at all. She’d never even had great sex before, with anyone—always chalking it up to her inexperience or her trepidation with the partners she’d finally picked. She assumed it was something on the horizon for her, like the promotion to Paris. Maybe when she was finally relaxed, settled, had climbed all her ladders. Forrest, honestly, didn’t seem like the most likely candidate, but she was hoping.

“I want to make you happy, Lia. I’m starting to see you as a challenge. You’ve done a lot for me, with this club, and the charter you planned—I want to pay you back. What will it take? Portugal in December?”

She shook her head. She didn’t need anything from Kyle. She needed it from the Vampiress. Paris. The raise. The final feeling of “success.”

He smiled sadly. “Okay, I see you’re too ‘mature’ for me. How about investing in your friend’s boat?”

Lia’s head snapped up. The quick movement caused the room to spin, but she was pretty sure she’d heard what she thought she heard.