The Tycoon (28 page)
Authors: Anna Jeffrey
Seconds later, the young woman appeared. “I’ll have a margarita with a splash of Grand Marnier,” Shannon said.
“Top shelf,” Drake told the waitress, then ordered a Dos Equis for himself.
Shannon thought of the price of top shelf liquor and started to protest, but stopped herself. Though she didn’t know Drake that well, she suspected that if he was buying, he always asked for the best. The waitress had no sooner left before a waiter came, presented them with menus and hurried away.
“It’s too loud to talk,” Drake shouted.
Thank God for that.
Shannon studied the menu, not wanting to look at him.
The waitress brought their drinks. Shannon called on all of her will power to keep from gulping hers. The waiter followed the waitress, ready to take their orders. Shannon pointed to taco salad on the menu and Drake ordered beef enchiladas. When their food came, Shannon ate lightly and hurriedly and mostly in silence since yelling was the only option for talking. But soon the crowd had had dwindled and the din had diminished to a purr.
“Decent food,” Drake said in a normal tone. “Is it always this loud?”
“It’s happy hour.”
She signaled the waitress and ordered another margarita. Drake declined a second beer.
“So tell me about your business,” he said, pushing his plate aside and resting his forearms on the table.
The question surprised her. She couldn’t believe he had any real interest in her brokerage. “Nothing to tell. A small town sales office. Just me and my team. Nothing like what you do.”
He leaned forward. “Not typical. I had my assistant look you up. You’re a multimillion dollar producer, even in this small population. That’s no mean feat.”
Her ego trilled. She wanted him to know she was good and was flattered to hear him say it. But that didn’t mean that she wasn’t wary.
As the waitress came again and placed a frosty margarita in front of her, Shannon gave him a quizzical look. “Why would you do that? Look me up, I mean.”
“Why wouldn’t I? We got along. We had a good time.”
Hah.
And “a good time” was all that Saturday night had meant to him. An opportunity for sex with someone besides his regular partner. By now, he had probably made up with Donna Schoonover, if they had ever really broken up in the first place. Shannon drained her drink.
“How else was I going to find you?” Drake continued. “Or find out about you? You weren’t exactly forthcoming with information.”
“What difference does it make? We both know why you invited me to your condo at eleven o’clock at night. And for that matter, why I went. I’m not putting on any self-righteous airs here.”
A busboy came and cleared off the table, interrupting their conversation. She asked him to send the cocktail waitress. Two drinks was her limit, but so far, tequila hadn’t done much toward calming her. Even so, she was beginning to feel a buzz. “After this drink, I have to go home,”
she said.
“I also know you specialize in high-end homes,” Drake said, as if she hadn’t just declared she needed to leave. “I assume that house we just left is an example of your listings?”
“I list all of that builder’s homes. He and his wife and I went to high school together.” The waitress came with a third fresh margarita. Shannon thanked her and sipped. “He knows I work hard and I’m honest.”
Drake leaned closer, holding her in place with his eyes. “Does he now? Then he’s one up on me.”
Was that an insult? It had to be.
Lord, his eyes were almost hypnotic.
A flashback of those eyes dark with lust almost undid her determination to be strong and tough.
She sat back against the booth’s tall back, putting distance between them. “Why are you doing this? What is there to discuss? If you’re afraid I might become a pest in your life, you don’t have to worry. Until you showed up today, I’d almost forgotten that…that what happened …happened. Actually, I’ve put a lot of effort into forgetting it.”
“I hate hearing that, darlin’. My impression was that you didn’t think it was that bad.”
“What I thought isn’t the issue. You and I live in two different worlds. And for the sake of my well-being, I think it should stay that way.”
“So that’s why you cut out in the middle of the night? For your well-being?”
She shook her head impatiently. “I told you. I had to go home. I live with my grandmother. I couldn’t let her wake up on Sunday morning and find my bed empty. With the bad weather, she would’ve been frantic with worry.”
As she reached for her drink, across Drake’s shoulder she spotted an acquaintance headed in their direction. Hal Grayson, Camden’s divorced city manager.
Oh. Hell.
Hal had asked her out a few times, but she had only met him for drinks twice. He had made it plain he would like to see more of her, but she kept him at arm’s length. He was an attractive man, but not her type. She didn’t know what her type was these days, but a guy with fewer muscles than she and a whiny voice definitely wasn’t it. In terms of being attractive, he was far from being competition for Drake. She held her breath, hoping he didn’t stop. His eyes locked on hers, but he neither stopped nor spoke.
Drake gave her that little-boy-grin. “There’s not a window or a back door in that restroom, is there?”
“Oh, just stop it.”
When she came out of the ladies’ room, Hal sat perched on a tall stool at the end of the bar, as if he were waiting for her. She couldn’t avoid him. His hand reached out and clamped around her arm and he pulled her near.
“How have you been?” he asked, placing his opposite hand on her waist. She could see he’d had more than one drink.
“I’m good, Hal.”
“Where have you been keeping yourself? I’ve called a couple of times.” His hand moved down to her hip.
She gasped. She had never allowed him to touch her in a proprietary way. He had to be drunk. She lifted her arm from his grip. “Look, Hal, I need to go. I’m with someone.”
“I saw. Is he from Camden? I think I’ve seen him before, but I can’t place him.”
A tiny panic gripped her. If he recognized Drake, she might just faint dead away. For that matter, Hal Grayson might faint at being in the same room with a celebrity millionaire of Drake’s repute. She had a vision of the whole room gathering around him and asking for his autograph or something equally bizarre. “Uh, no. He’s from out of town.”
“The Realtors’ party is coming up this weekend. You’ll be there, won’t you?”
“Wouldn’t miss it. I really do have to go, Hal.” She backed away.
Chapter 17
Drake had seen Shannon when she reappeared in the bar. The guy she had traded looks with a few minutes earlier—she thought she had hidden that little exchange—had reached out, caught her arm and drawn her over to where he sat. His hand had landed on her hip and she had made no attempt to move it.
An odd annoyance coursed through Drake, out of his control, pushing him to an uncharacteristic reaction. The closest word he could think of to define it was “possessiveness.” Then he realized it was jealousy. He was stunned. He had never been jealous of a woman, had always felt sorry for poor bastards who were so whipped they let a woman control their peace of mind. Men like his dad who let Mom flip him inside out and turn him into a fool.
The bar’s lighting cast Shannon’s crown in a flaming halo, her face in dramatic contrasts. She had a movie-star profile. An image came to him of her standing in the firelight that Saturday night in his living room and how delectable she had looked. Tonight, even covered from neck to toe in a plain dress and boots, she still looked sexy and elegant. Having no trouble visualizing what was under all of that clothing and her hair loose and free, he felt a tightening behind his fly.
But she was a different person from the woman in the hotel ballroom and in his bed. Christ, she was behaving as if he had never seen her naked, never taken her to multiple screaming orgasms, never heard her beg him for satisfaction.
Was she fucking that dude at the bar? She could be. Hell, the guy might even be an ex of some kind. Who knew? Drake knew almost nothing about her.
Trouble and turmoil
. He sensed she was both. A threat to his orderly life. Didn’t his family generate enough tumult without him asking for more from an outsider? Perhaps it had been a bad idea to even have looked her up. Maybe he should have been content to just know who she was and left her alone.
But he was confused by his own desires. Hot sex was one thing, but as juvenile as it sounded, what he wanted from her most was for her to look at him with genuine awe and admiration, the same way she had looked at him in that hotel ballroom.
Just then, the waitress appeared and he ordered Cokes for himself and Shannon both. She’d had three margaritas, which was enough. He didn’t want her snockered and driving drunk. He shouldn’t care, but he felt responsible for her.
Seconds later, his very own mystery woman was reclaiming her seat across from him in the booth. She must have applied new lipstick. Her lips looked full and wet and inviting in the indirect lighting, which sent another sensation south of his belt buckle.
Frowning, she gave an evil eye to the spot where her margarita glass had been, where a small glass of Coke and ice now sat. “What’s this?”
“Coca-Cola. You’re driving, remember?”
Her eyes narrowed. “What?”
In spite of warning himself not to be a damn fool, he asked, “So who’s the dude with his hand on your ass?”
Her green eyes roasted him, a tiny frown coming and going between her brows. “What?...No one had his hand on my—”
“Boyfriend?”
“I told you before, I do not have any boyfriends. But it’s none of your business if I have five.”
The idea that she might still be lying to him shot an inexplicable white-hot anger through
Drake. “That guy would like to be.”
“He’s the city manager. I have to deal with him from time to time. I don’t date people I have to work with.”
“He touched you in a possessive way. Like you’re his.”
“Were you spying on me or something?”
“I didn’t have to spy. You were in my line of sight.”
She blinked a few times, then opened her palms and shook her head, a gesture of annoyance and frustration. “Well this is just insane.” She looked around, avoiding looking at him. “Where
is
that damn waitress?”
Drake leaned forward and said in a low tone. “I still say his hand was on your ass.”
She released a great sigh and leaned against the booth’s back. “Look, I don’t know what this is about, but let’s stop it. Just because we…we…”
Her words trailed off. He was already on his way to being a jackass. He was so angry and confused as to why, he couldn’t stop himself from morphing into an unrecoverable one. “Fucked is the word you’re looking for, sweetheart. Fucked.”
She ducked her chin. “You don’t have a claim on me. I wish we could just call the Christmas party a mistake and go our separate ways. I think it’s the civilized thing to do.”
“Look at me,” he said, and she looked up, her eyes wide, her lips parted. He wanted to grab her and kiss her silly. “Darlin’, there was nothing civilized about what went on in my condo. I had my mouth in some real private places. Now that doesn’t brand you for life, but the way I remember it, you did return the favor.”