Almost Like Love (2 page)

That would have gone over big. And why the hell should
he
apologize because
her
ratings were lousy? He was the VP of programming, not a guidance counselor.

That was the problem with creative types. They thought they could sit in their ivory towers and make things up while someone else took care of the rest. They didn’t understand that no one was entitled to a living. That everything was a struggle. That you had to fight and claw your way to success.

Kate always acted like she was above all that. She hated talking about ratings and ad revenue and all the practical aspects of running a television network. And in the end, her distaste for the financial side of her business had cost her. It wasn’t enough that she had written a good children’s television show—and
Life with Max
was good, Ian couldn’t deny that. His nephew loved it. But that didn’t mean—

Arthur came up beside the curvy redhead and said something. She turned her head, and Ian got his first glimpse of her face.

Kate Meredith.

The curvy redhead was
Kate Meredith
.

It couldn’t be . . . but it was.

The Kate Meredith he knew never wore heels, or makeup, or even skirts. She didn’t give a damn about her appearance, which was one of the many things he found annoying about her. Your appearance sends a message to people, and you should always do everything in your power to make sure you send the right message.

But Kate couldn’t be bothered to care about that. She was oblivious to it all, drifting happily along in her fantasy world where heroes and heroines were real, substance mattered more than form, and good triumphed over evil.

Unlike most women in the entertainment industry, Kate never used her appearance as a weapon. She downplayed her height, her hair, her face . . . and her body. Even at network parties and awards shows, Kate dressed to blend into the background rather than stand out.

Of course, she hadn’t been able to disguise herself completely. Even in her dowdy work clothes, it had been obvious that Kate was attractive—and that she had the potential to be a lot more.

Ian had wondered more than once what it would take to make Kate cut loose. Apparently, losing her job had done the trick.

A rush of attraction was followed by a wave of guilt. It was hard to say which feeling he resented more.

She looked incredible. She was tall to begin with, but her high heels made her an Amazon. Her hair was a tumbled mass of red glory. And her body . . .

Sweet holy Christ.

She was stunning. She was every man’s fantasy. She was . . .

Talking to Arthur Kalen.

Of course she was. There was probably one woman in ten thousand who would actually respond to Arthur’s pickup approach, and Kate Meredith was it. She was a nerd, just like him—only it turned out she was trapped in the body of a sex goddess.

She was laughing at something Arthur had said. The bartender set a shot in front of her and she tossed it off, looking pretty damn sexy until a fit of coughing ruined the effect. Arthur got her a drink of water and patted her on the back.

Kate didn’t usually drink—Ian knew that from seeing her at parties and red-carpet events. The alcohol she was downing now had to be hitting her like a ton of bricks.

Arthur was looking ecstatic, as well he might. Heaven had answered his prayers. Kate Meredith was everything he’d ever dreamed of—a beautiful, sexy geek on her way to being drunk off her ass.

Ian shoved his chair back and got to his feet. He couldn’t let this happen. It was his fault that Kate had temporarily lost her mind, his fault that she’d gone out to drown her troubles dressed like an extra from
Showgirls
.

“Where are you going?”

He glanced down at Gabe. “I know that woman. I’ve got to rescue her from Arthur.”

“Rescue her from
Arthur
? There’s not a woman alive who needs to be rescued from Arthur. He’s harmless.”

Compared with most men, maybe he was. But the bar for decent behavior among his gender was set pretty low. And no man alive would be able to resist the chance to go home with that woman.

Which meant she did need rescuing. And in spite of the fact that he was probably the last man on earth Kate Meredith wanted to see right now, Ian was going to rescue her.

Simone came off the dance floor looking sweaty and happy.

“Who’s your friend?” she asked, noticing Comic Book Guy.

“The man who just gave me the single greatest compliment I have ever received.”

“Wow. What was it?”

“He said I look like Red Sonja.”

Simone looked perplexed for a moment. “Who—oh. She’s one of the superhero chicks you have framed on your wall, right? The one who fights with the guy whose name sounds like a late-night talk-show host?”

“Conan the Barbarian.”

“That’s it.” Simone cast the appraising glance of a costume designer over Kate. “You know, he has a point. All we have to do is dress you up with a sword and a barbed-wire bikini.”

“I’d pay to see that,” Comic Book Guy said, looking a little dazed. He wasn’t at all what Kate was looking for tonight, but he was a nice guy and his flattery was a welcome balm after Chris’s betrayal.

Simone waved the bartender over. “I’ll buy the next round. What are you drinking?”

“The blood of my enemies,” Kate said, causing Comic Book Guy to burst out laughing.

“Nothing for me,” he said to Simone. “I’m going to the men’s room. Do you promise you’ll still be here when I come back?” he asked Kate.

“Sure.”

Simone shook her head as he walked off towards the restrooms. “I can’t believe you managed to meld with the geek hive-mind here. I thought we were supposed to be visiting
my
world tonight. This is more like that time you made me go to Comic-Con.”

Kate patted her shoulder. “Comic-Con wasn’t so bad. You said you got some great costume ideas there.”

“I also got propositioned by some very weird people.”

“You get propositioned everywhere.”

Simone grinned at her. “Tonight I think you’re the one who’s going to get—”

She stopped short, staring at something over Kate’s right shoulder. Wondering if Comic Book Guy had changed his mind about the bathroom break, Kate turned her head to look behind her.

For a moment she thought she was seeing things. She didn’t usually drink hard liquor—maybe the alcohol in her system was making her hallucinate. Why else would she be seeing Ian Hart, the man responsible for cancelling her show? The universe couldn’t be so perverse as to put her face-to-face with her archnemesis tonight, could it?

“Kate,” he said, and she was forced to acknowledge that this was reality.

“I don’t like you,” she heard herself say.

Damn. She should have gone with something much stronger. Something like, “I’m going to reach down your throat, pull out your beating heart, and feed it to my cat.” That’s what Red Sonja would say.

Or would if she had cats, which she probably didn’t.

Ian winced. “I know I’m not your favorite person right now.”

“You should be her favorite person,” Simone said, sliding off her barstool. “You’re my favorite person, and I don’t even know you.”

Kate glared at her. “Simone, this is Ian Hart.”

Her friend’s eyes widened. “The evil bastard with no soul?”

“In the flesh.”

Simone looked him over. “I was picturing someone less . . . yummy.”

“The devil comes disguised as a gorgeous man.”

Ian’s eyebrows went up, and she could have kicked herself. She’d meant to insult him, and instead she’d called him gorgeous.

Which he was, unfortunately. It was one of the most annoying things about him.

She could still remember the first time she’d seen him, almost two years ago now. In the blissful minutes before she’d known who he was, she’d figured he had to be an actor, even though he was dressed like a corporate suit.

He was too good-looking to be anything else. He was well over six feet tall and had a perfect body, but it was his face that made a woman struggle not to drool. Rugged features framed by dark hair, and a smile that—

A smile that concealed a microscopic heart. Ian put a price tag on everything, and the only value he recognized was monetary. In Kate’s eyes, he was the very definition of evil.

It wasn’t fair that a man she despised so much should be so damn hot.

He looked even hotter than usual tonight, curse him. She’d never seen him dressed so casually before. He was wearing jeans and a worn leather jacket, and with his dark hair all tousled and a little rough stubble on his jaw, he looked good enough to eat.

The smug, insufferable bastard.

She folded her arms. “Go away, Hart. I’m trying to enjoy myself.”

He sighed. “I know you’re not thrilled to see me, Kate. But I came over here with good intentions.”

“Really.”

“Yeah. I’m not going to let you make a stupid mistake just because you had a bad day.”

For the first time since he’d come over here, his eyes dropped to her cleavage. It was only a second before his eyes were riveted to her face again, but a flash of heat went from her toes to the top of her head.

She was more than a little tipsy, and she’d been concentrating on a) not punching Ian in the face and b) not letting him know she thought he was sexy. Because of that, she’d actually forgotten what she herself was wearing.

What must Ian be thinking right now?

Not that she gave a damn what he thought. Red Sonja never had any qualms about putting herself out there, did she? She used her unique fashion sense to say to the world,
This is my body. I use it to crush my foes
.

Instead of hunching her shoulders or slouching down, Kate stood up straighter. In her heels she was almost eye to eye with this particular foe.

“I didn’t have a bad day, Hart. I had an apocalyptic day. The kind of day that entitles a woman to make a stupid mistake.” She paused a moment. “Just to clarify, though—what stupid mistake are we talking about?”

“Going home with Arthur.”

“Arthur? Who’s Arthur?”

“The guy you were just talking to.”

Comic Book Guy?

Kate shook her head vigorously. “No, no, no. I’m not going home with him. He’s great, but we have too much in common. And he’s too sweet.”

Ian stared at her. “Too
sweet
?”

“Absolutely. I’m here to find a bad boy. Trouble with a capital
T
. A sex god who’s great in bed and has no other redeeming qualities. Someone completely different from my—”

She stopped. There was no need to let him in on the other half of her rotten day. The last thing she needed was whatever passed as pity or sympathy from Ian Hart.

Unfortunately, Simone hadn’t gotten that memo.

“Someone different from her fiancé,” she finished helpfully. “He broke off their engagement today, the asshole. Between that and losing her job, Kate needed a good time tonight. So here we are.”

Kate steeled herself to meet Ian’s eyes, and there it was: pity. But for some reason, she wasn’t as irritated by the expression as she’d expected to be. It made him look almost human. Like his calcified heart was experiencing an actual emotion.

“Jesus. I’m sorry, Kate. That really sucks.”

He rubbed a hand across his jaw, which drew Kate’s attention to the stubble there. A woman who kissed that face would have whisker burn for days. Every time she looked in the mirror, she’d think of him.

He slid his hands into his pockets. “Okay, so you didn’t have a run-of-the-mill bad day. I get that. But you still shouldn’t do something you’ll regret tonight. Especially when you’ve been drinking.”

She forced herself to focus on his words and not his mouth. It was much easier to hate him that way. “Wow. How condescending, Hart. Maybe if you try really hard you could be even more paternalistic.”

The sympathy in his eyes was replaced by irritation, an expression she was much more used to seeing when Ian looked at her.

“You are the most annoying woman alive. You know that? For once, can’t you just—”

“Hey, man, what are you doing here?”

Comic Book Guy—Arthur—had come back from the bathroom. He didn’t look particularly pleased to see Ian.

“He’s here to rescue me,” Kate told him. “He’s afraid you’re going to take advantage of me in my drunken state.”

Ian glared at her before turning to Arthur. “I don’t think you’re going to take advantage of her. But I know this woman, and she’s not in great shape right now. She lost her job and her fiancé today. She’s vulnerable.”

The son of a bitch. “I lost my job because of
you
.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, that’s it. I’m going to do it. I’ve always wanted to, and now I am.”

Ian looked at her again. “Do what?”

“Punch you in the face.”

Of course she wouldn’t really hit him—probably. She just meant to threaten him with her Red Sonja fist of fury.

But Simone grabbed her arm as she raised it. “Whoa there, cowgirl. I know we’re supposed to be cutting loose tonight, but let’s not get arrested for assault this early, okay? Let’s save that for the wee hours.”