Bachelor's Bait (3 page)

Marc listened intently as she spoke and Sophie wondered why she was sharing so much. The man confused her, left her hot and bothered, trying to decide if she was mad or horny.

She cleared her throat. “Well, long story short—too late, right?—we all committed to three years of making the place a success, and that means working holidays, waiting tables, stocking shelves and playing busboy.”

Marc tipped his bottle, finishing the beer before putting it back on the table. “Sounds like you’re off to a great start. Color me impressed.”

“So enough of the stalling. Why are you and my dear old dad at odds?”

Marc frowned. “He’s trying to close down the community center.”

His response knocked Sophie off guard. “No,” she said, more to herself than to Marc. She looked at the attorney and shook her head. “No. My dad wouldn’t do that.”

Her mother had taken her to dance classes and piano lessons at the community center when she was younger. The place was an institution in the city—a gathering place for senior citizens and a safe harbor for latchkey kids, after school and in the summer. It offered classes in everything from knitting to ballroom dancing. Her mother had served on the board for years, keeping the center running by planning some of the programs and helping to raise funds to keep it solvent.

Dad knew how much the place had meant to her mother…and to Sophie. He’d never allow it to close.

Marc didn’t respond, but she sensed her face had answered an unspoken question for him. “You really didn’t know?”

She shook her head again. “I didn’t know because it’s not happening. You’re wrong.”

Marc tapped his fingers on the table lightly, the sound of the fast rhythm capturing her attention. It made her realize her own nervous habit—bouncing her leg whenever she was stressed out—was commencing full speed beneath the table. She forced herself to still the motion.

Again, she got a sense he was trying to make a decision about her. “It’s not exactly common knowledge yet. It hasn’t hit the papers or anything. I was approached a few weeks ago by the chairman of the board of trustees at the center, Rich Gregory. There had been some anonymous inquiries in regards to the condition of the building over the past year. As a result, the center was subjected to a visit from the building inspector and threatened with some hefty fines if they didn’t make repairs.”

“It’s an old building—” she started, but Marc continued.

“Then there was an audit of the books after someone sent a letter to the IRS, alleging that the trustees were misappropriating funds. They weren’t, of course, but getting all the files in order has been time-consuming and costly. Rich came to me because he’s afraid someone is trying to sabotage the center. Paying the accounting firm for help on the audit has left the center strapped for cash. The money to make the repairs needed to keep the building open isn’t there.”

Sophie didn’t like the accusation Marc was making. “None of this implicates my father. All the complaints lodged were anonymous. It’s pretty ballsy of you to accuse my dad with no more proof than—”

“A few weeks ago, your dad made the center an offer,” Marc interrupted.

“An offer or a donation?” Sophie knew for a fact her father had contributed huge amounts of money to the center in the past. Clearly Marc and Rich were misreading the situation. Looking for a villain.

“It was an
offer
, Sophie. He wants to buy the property. At first, Rich was hopeful that your dad was planning to purchase the center with the intention of improving the place. He thought Jasper was digging them out of their hole. After the string of bad luck and growing debt, the idea of privatizing the center had almost seemed like the answer to a prayer for the trustees. The center is in big trouble financially.”

“So my dad’s offer is a good one. He’ll buy the center and fix it up, make it better than ever.”

It was Marc’s turn to shake his head “Rich caught wind of your dad’s plans. He has a friend on the zoning committee who learned Jasper was interested in acquiring the property for a more profitable purpose. He intends to tear the center down and build a shopping mall. That’s when Rich called me.”

Sophie’s temper snapped. “No. Dad would never do that. How can you sit here and spread gossip around like it’s the gospel truth? This is slander! It’s unfair and—”

“Your father’s lawyers confirmed today that was indeed the plan.”

He had a bad habit of interrupting her. Sophie’s face flushed with anger and frustration.

Marc leaned forward. She tried to ignore the almost sympathetic look in his eyes. How dare he sit there and spew lie after lie then act as if he felt
sorry
for her!

“The community center has sixty days to come up with the money to make the repairs or they’ll be forced to close their doors. And with the bad building inspection hanging over their heads, the trustees will be forced to accept your dad’s offer, which is less than generous. I think your father actually feels like he’s doing the community a service by taking the ‘eyesore’ off their hands and replacing it with something new and shiny.”

Sophie swallowed heavily, desperate to prove her father’s innocence. Unfortunately, Marc’s last comment triggered a memory. Dad had once bought some riverfront property, tearing down the beautiful homes that had stood there for well over a hundred years to build a new subdivision full of McMansions. He’d called the old homes “eyesores”, an affront to people with good taste.

The comment had actually led to a huge disagreement between them—something they rarely had. Eventually she’d given up the fight, deciding it wasn’t important. Once her father set his mind on a goal, he pursued it with the force of a two-ton tank and it was clear her opinion wouldn’t sway him.

But the community center was different. They hadn’t lived in the riverfront homes, so she’d had no personal attachment to them. Her mother had given countless hours to the center and it had played a major role in Sophie’s happy memories of childhood. She loved the place dearly—and her father knew it.

It wasn’t an eyesore. It was as necessary to the city as clean water, sanitation and fresh air.

“Soph?” Marc prodded when the silence between them lasted too long.

“My name is Sophia. And you’re wrong about all of this.” Her tone was biting, bitchy. There was a lump in her throat and she was fighting desperately to keep her eyes dry when all she wanted to do was cry. “I think you should leave.”

Marc nodded, rising slowly. He took her phone out of his pocket and placed it on the table. “I hope I
am
wrong. Goodbye, Sophie.”

Marc left the bar. Once again he’d gotten the last word, but Sophie was suddenly too exhausted to give a shit.

Her long day had officially given way to an endless evening.

Chapter Two

Sophie cursed her shoe choice. While she was no stranger to high heels, she’d misjudged exactly how much time she’d be on her feet tonight. Usually she had her shit together when it came to the charity events she helped organize, but the last week had been particularly rough.

Her father had gone out of the country the morning after her conversation with Marc about the community center. She’d tried to call Dad several times, but between the time change and his business meetings, she kept getting his voicemail.

On top of her concerns regarding the center, her girlfriend Jordan had chosen the past week to dive back into the dating world after a very long hiatus. Much to Sophie’s delight, her friend had sparked the interest of two different guys. While Sophie was thrilled that Jordan was having such good fortune on the dating front, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. The lucky bitch had two guys fighting for her attention while Sophie was experiencing a long, painful string of bad first dates.

Getting laid would go a long way toward relieving some of her pent-up stress. Her vibrator was no longer cutting it.

Unfortunately, the only man who even remotely interested her sexually was Marc, the obnoxious lawyer.

Sophie had never laid eyes on the man before plowing into him on the sidewalk last week, but now it seemed she couldn’t turn around twice without seeing him.

Even though he continually pissed her off, she couldn’t stop thinking about him in an entirely inappropriate, completely sexual way. Despite his ability to annoy her, she couldn’t deny he was fucking hot and there seemed to be some sort of dirty chemistry between them.

A couple days after their run-in at Books and Brew, she’d wound up in line behind him at the grocery store. They’d almost managed to feign politeness, talking about the hot weather and the city’s fireworks display. But the way Marc had undressed her with his eyes, giving her a far-too-seductive look as he admired her cut-off jeans shorts and tank top, had tweaked her libido
and
her temper. While their words were innocuous, the conversation drove her mind down naughty paths as she considered the explosive heat the two of them could generate between the sheets.

Then she’d run into him last night at Patricia Butt–Bitch’s birthday party—the last place on earth she’d ever expected to see him. Apparently he and Patricia’s brother had gone to law school together. As luck would have it, Marc had been seated next to her. He’d muttered inappropriate though admittedly hilarious comments about the birthday girl and her guests all evening. There was no debating that his disregard for the country-club crowd was genuine.

She pretended to dislike Marc whenever she spoke to her friends about him, sticking by her assertion that he was an asshole. Though her body and mind seemed to be at odds. Despite disliking his abrasive personality, Sophie wanted him. Badly.

Yes, he was a jerk for accusing her father of such horrible things and for judging her for her place in Portland’s social scene, but she still lusted after him. More than a few times his jokes had been laced with double meanings and sexual innuendoes. She’d been so frigging horny by the time she’d crawled into bed after the party, she’d tossed and turned all night.

Which was not helping her frame of mind right now. She was tired and on edge.

She headed toward the coat-check to ask one of her volunteers, Charlotte, where she’d placed the box of extra flyers. Tonight’s fundraiser was generating money for the domestic abuse shelter, and so far things were off to a great start. She was also happy to have one of her friends in attendance. Jordan had shown up on the arm of not just one of her suitors, but
both
. Sophie admired her friend’s nerve and wondered which guy Jordan would ultimately choose, though she didn’t envy her the decision. Both Gabriel and Casey were great catches. Sophie hadn’t failed to notice the jealous looks Jordan was receiving from some of the single and even a few of the married women.

“Charlotte?” Sophie was annoyed to find the coat-check room unattended. She’d been an idiot to trust Charlotte to keep an eye on it. The woman was too flighty to take the task seriously. She was a regular at the bookstore and when Sophie had foolishly mentioned her problem finding volunteers to help work the event, Charlotte had stepped forward. Sophie had accepted the offer, ignoring the voice telling her Charlotte only wanted to help so she could ogle the cream of society’s crop in a glitzy setting.

Now she was staring at an unprotected room full of expensive shawls and jackets.

“Shit,” she muttered. “Can anyone say
liability
?” She stepped behind the check-in counter and into the room, intent on finding the extra flyers. Then she’d track down her “volunteer” and read her the riot act for leaving her post unattended.

Spotting the box in a corner, she crossed the small space and bent to retrieve it.

A wolf whistle sounded from the doorway.

Sophie rose quickly but the damage was done. Clearly she’d given someone an eyeful of her ass wrapped in its tight skirt.

Marc leaned against the doorframe, looking far too pleased with the view she’d offered.

“Wow. Sexist much?”

He gave her a seductive grin. She wished her body would stop responding to him so forcefully. Her stomach clenched, her pussy dampened and she was grateful for the box in her hands or Marc would see them trembling.

He was unapologetic. “When I see something beautiful, I feel the need to appreciate it.”

“And being the classy guy you are, you thought you’d whistle at me like a construction worker.”

“I thought you might prefer
that
response over the first idea that popped into my head.”

“Which was?”

“Stroking my hands over that gorgeous ass you just displayed for me.”

The battle between Sophie’s head and body flared. Her ass cheeks clenched, longing for that caress. Her less visceral side offered a reply. “Then you made the right call because I would have kneed you in the balls. Hard.”

He nodded. “That’s what I thought. Hence my whistle from all the way over here.”

His tone was light and friendly, making it impossible to take offense at his comments. The closet wasn’t that large but his assessment was correct. Several feet protected his balls from her knee.

Sophie subtly pressed her legs together and tried to force air into her lungs. Apparently the space between them wasn’t that safe after all. She flushed as her body heated at their proximity—and semi-privacy.

The observant man’s dark-blue eyes narrowed.

He must be hell on juries. He notices far too much.

He stepped into the room. She tried to hide her shock when he closed the closet door behind him. The darkness was cut by a mellow glow provided by the low-watt fixture hanging in the center of the ceiling, and instantly she was reminded of nights spent beside a dying fire in her family’s large living room. She was a sucker for a fireplace.

Marc’s deep voice cut through the silence. “Maybe I was wrong.”

Her eyes tried to adjust to the dim lighting as he continued to move closer. “About what?” Her throat tightened, making her words sound thick and far too loud in the small room.

Marc didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took the box of flyers out of her hands, setting it on the floor. “You know I’m going to start coming by the bar, right? I feel the need to become a regular.”

“Why? You get some sick pleasure out of annoying me?”

He shook his head, his voice laced with humor. “No. That’s just a bonus.”

The answer was completely unsatisfactory, even though Sophie liked the idea of him stopping by. Despite her better judgment, she wanted to see him more too. “Then why?” she repeated.

“Because I’ll want to do this again.”

He leaned forward and kissed her.

The motion caught her unaware. Her body reacted instantly as his hands landed on her waist, pulling her close. Her breath seized, her body tingled in places she didn’t want to acknowledge and her heart began to race. This wasn’t good.

It was
great
.

His lips were soft but firm. He kissed like a man who was used to being in charge. He pressed harder, parting his lips and hers at the same time so his tongue could explore. She lifted her hands to his shoulders, her breasts brushing his chest. The action triggered a stronger response in Marc, who lifted one hand to her head, fingers tangling gently in her hair, directing her movements.

She felt the dampness between her legs give way to genuine wet heat. She tightened her grip on his shoulders, trying to get impossibly closer. Marc’s hand at her waist dropped lower, sliding until he cupped the ass he’d been admiring earlier.

The touch sparked two reactions in Sophie—full-fledged arousal and eye-opening comprehension of exactly what she was doing. The alarm began to sound and her brain defeated her physical urge to strip them both naked, drag him to the floor and—

She pushed him away, struggling to catch her breath and still her pounding heart.

Marc released her and her body screamed out in anger at his easy capitulation.

“You have some nerve,” she said, hating the breathless quality in her voice.

He grinned, his face completely devoid of remorse. “You liked kissing me.”

“You caught me by surprise.”

He smoothed his hand along her cheek. It was a gentle touch with more physical impact than if he’d shoved those same gorgeous fingers inside her empty pussy.

“The evidence is indisputable. Surprise lasts for a few seconds at most. You let me kiss you for several minutes.”

Freaking lawyers.

Time to retreat. Regroup.

“Whatever.” Christ. That was it? That was her big, witty comeback? She needed to get her head screwed on straight because she was definitely losing her edge.

Stepping to the side, she walked around him toward the door. Once again, she was disappointed when he didn’t try to stop her. Jesus. This was bad. Really bad.

She reached for the knob at the exact moment Marc’s hand landed on the door, holding it closed. Her body shifted into overdrive at the power play. Since when was she turned on by shit like this? Usually she was the aggressor in her relationships, the top dog.

She spun to face Marc, refusing to let him think she was weak. “Careful, counselor. I’m still mad at you for your false accusations toward my dad and, despite my earlier surprise, I think you may find me
way
out of your league.” She tried to sound intimidating, unafraid, but she feared she fell short of the mark.

Especially when Marc leaned forward. Sophie thought he was going to kiss her again. Her eyes actually started to drift shut in anticipation, but at the last minute he changed direction until his lips landed beside her ear. She tried to repress the shiver of charged excitement caused by his hot breath on her face. She was only half successful and could picture Marc smirking at her primal response.

“Don’t worry about me, princess. I know exactly what the outcome of this case will be. But by all means, keep proclaiming innocence if you want to. I like a challenge.” He followed up his taunt with a sharp nip to her earlobe that should have infuriated her, but instead shot through her like molten lava.

She sucked in a deep breath, searching for a rebuttal. Her brain had gone on permanent vacation. Instead of speaking, she pushed him away with more force than was necessary and left the closet.

She reached the ballroom before she realized she’d forgotten the flyers.

And once again, she’d let him get the last word.

* * * * *

Marc watched Sophie work the crowd, moving from table to table with grace and charm as she made certain each of the attendees had everything they needed to ensure they’d be not only happy, but generous as the evening progressed. He’d teased her about her job as a party planner, but he had to admit she had a flair for it. Not to mention the fact she was putting her talents to good use, raising money tonight for a cause that was quite close to his heart.

All his preconceived notions about the type of woman Sophie was were being destroyed, one after another.

After running into Ms. Kennedy outside his office last week, he’d done a bit of research on her.

His gut reaction when she’d plowed into him had been immediate suspicion. He wouldn’t put it past Jasper Kennedy to use anything or anyone to achieve his goal of acquiring the community center property. Its location in the city made it a prime piece of real estate.

He had to hand it to Jasper. The man had connections to everyone. The meeting in the judge’s chambers last week was a testament to that. It had been hastily arranged—the day before a
holiday
—no doubt to thwart the board of trustees’ intention to fight against the sale of the center. As a result, Marc had been forced to stay up all night preparing the documents needed to give them time to raise the funds to make the building improvements.

Finding Sophie Kennedy outside his door just minutes before he’d been preparing to battle her father’s lawyers had seemed far too coincidental.

However, fate had a perverse sense of humor. Especially when he’d discovered he had Sophie’s phone. Sharing a drink with her at Books and Brew had at least convinced him Jasper hadn’t been using his daughter to prevent him from making it to the meeting on time. If anything, it appeared her father was hiding his plans from Sophie.