Loved By The Hero (Hero Romance 3) (4 page)

Chapter Two

“I wish someone would have told me the theme was something from the fifties,” Marie whispered as she looked around at the tables and the bartender wearing a suit and bow tie. Women were walking around in shortened pencil skirts with slits in the sides and button down, white blouses that showed generous cleavage. From what Claire could tell, they were the waitresses.

There was dancing going on, but the music playing was modern jazz and some of the couples looked like they didn’t know how to dance to anything but hip-hop. Claire felt a grin tugging at her lips as she headed for the bar and sat down. It was an easygoing, carefree environment without the hassles of loud, thumping music and nowhere to sit. There were plenty of stools at the bar and a section of tables off to one side.

Marie sat beside her with an odd look on her face as she continued to stare at the inside of the nightclub. There were some that were obviously enjoying the scene, but there were a few that were put off-by the club’s obvious theme. Maybe the owner should have mentioned it in the invitation.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” a booming voice interrupted what Marie was about to say and Claire had to postpone her drink order as she turned to the far end of the dance floor.

A man stood wearing a black suit and tie that screamed money. His hair was hidden beneath a hat more befitting for sixty years prior to the date, but somehow he made it look sexy. His shiny shoes caught the light as it was shone on him and Marie made an appreciative noise next to Claire. “I gotta get me some of that,” she whispered in Claire’s ear.

“Good luck. I think there’s about a hundred women already thinking the same thing,” Claire shot back as she turned away from the man. Yes, he was good looking, but there was something too slick and suave about him that bothered her.

Marie could have him.

“As you can see, Nostalgia is-” And that’s when Claire stopped listening. She turned back to the bartender and ordered her candied orange martini and sipped it as she looked at the choices of alcohols behind the man. The woodwork of the bar was impressive and must have cost a pretty penny, but what she was more impressed with was the man reflected in the mirror about four seats down from her.

He fit in with the club in a way that was eerie.

Vaguely, Claire was aware of Marie leaving her side for the dance floor. The two of them were in agreement that Claire would never have to dance in public. In these shoes, she’d do more than just embarrass herself; she’d probably kill someone.

It didn’t bother her that she had been left alone at the bar. She was too busy eyeing the light skinned man wearing a black suit, white shirt, and black tie. He had on a top hat, but the crooked way it was sitting atop his head made it look like someone had tried to swipe it off. Claire was busying studying the tilt of his hat and trying to determine how long his hair was underneath the hat that she didn’t notice him staring right back at her.

When their eyes met, she had the grace to blush and look away as quick as she could. There was something that whispered dangerous about this man, and she didn’t need dangerous. She wasn’t sure what she needed after Eric, which was not a good place to be in if a man was looking for a one night stand. She wasn’t ready, no matter how brave she had appeared to Marie the other night when they’d talked about going out.

Oh no, no, she thought as she saw the man slide off his stool and develop a tiny twitch of a grin on his lips. They were full lips and his face reminded her of someone familiar.

“Has anyone told you, you look a lot like Claire O’Donnell from the news?” he said easily as he sat down beside her and raised his finger off the tabletop to signal the bartender for another beer.

“Has anyone told you, you look a lot like Channing Tatum?” she quipped easily. Claire couldn’t put her finger on it, but this guy made her feel warm in all the right places and she was a little afraid of her reaction to him. The only way to get rid of the feeling was
to
wipe that grin off his face, but her comeback hadn’t done it.

“Really? It’s a shame I’m not who I look like I am, but I’m glad you’re really who you look like you are.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’d recognize your voice anywhere. Sweet, whispery, with that sharp undertone even when you’re talking about storm clouds,” he told her before he took a sip of his beer.

“Oh,” was all she could manage when he turned his full-blown, bright smile on her. Smooth, Claire, real smooth, she thought while she tried to hide her enamored expression behind a sip of her martini. “So you came over here to talk about storm clouds?”

“No, I came over here because I saw the most beautiful girl in this place sitting alone and wondered why on Earth someone wasn’t trying to buy her a drink.” He looked thoughtfully at her almost empty martini glass and something in her told her to accept. What could it hurt? She was getting a free drink anyway.

“Candied Orange Martini,” she told him as she set her glass down. “But just one,” she promised him with a small smile. He really did look a lot like Channing Tatum, but she was sure he might be a little taller.

Chapter Three

“So what is that you do, other than stand up there and wave your arms around at all the numbers and talk about clouds?” He’d introduced himself with her third martini as James, and she was surprised it had taken them this long to start talking about her job. Usually, men thought that was the only thing she ever did. James had been more interested in what she was doing at a club on a Friday night and alone, at that. Apparently, he’d heard she had a boyfriend, but he hadn’t heard about the blow-up.

“Well, I sit down and wave my hands at a bunch of numbers on a computer screen,” she said jokingly. The martinis were really starting to make her feel warm and fuzzy, and she was sure she’d answer any questions he had. Claire sobered up just enough to sit up and find his dark brown gaze. “Seriously, though, I am a meteorologist. I went to school for that, you know. Some people think I’m a ditz who doesn’t know the difference between a cumulus and a cumulonimbus.”

“You’re interesting, Claire,” James said as he shifted a little closer to her. She could feel the heat of his palm as it almost touched her thigh and was a little ashamed at how eager she was to feel his large, warm hand on her flesh.

“Hey, there you are!” Marie chimed as she sat down on the other side of Claire and ordered a drink without a second’s hesitation. “I’ve been dancing all night with this really hot, adorable man and he said he’s got a friend if you’re in-” Marie cut herself off when she turned to see that Claire was staring at her with a quirked eyebrow and a fourth martini in her hands. It would be her last for the night, she was sure.

“That’s alright,” Claire said as she leaned back. “This is James. He’s-” And that’s when Claire realized she had no idea what James did for a living or if was even from New York or just visiting. Had they really talked all about her for the past hour and a half?

“Pleased to meet you,” he said as he held out his hand to Marie. She was flushed from dancing and her dressed had slipped a little to reveal more cleavage than usual. Her dark eyes seemed to light up and she pushed a lock of her auburn curls behind her ear and smiled. Claire felt the stab of jealousy and wanted to slap their hands when they touched, but she had no claim to James.

Besides, the man was most likely tired of hearing her talk and would want someone who actually listened to him for once.

“I’m Marie,” her friend said and then let her hand slide away from the light one grasping it. “Claire’s friend,” she added before she grabbed her drink, neatly bottled for her convenience, and slid off her stool. Marie leaned over and put her hand up to Claire’s ear to block her voice, “Call me if you need anything later.”

It was their code they’d used years ago when they were in college and out at a party. It translated to, be careful and text me when you’re home so I know you’re safe.

“She’s bubbly,” James commented as he watched Marie leave.

“Yeah, great dancer, too,” Claire commented as she finished her martini. “I think I’m going to head out. It was nice meeting you, James.”

“So soon? It’s only eleven forty-five and at midnight, the drinks are half off.”

“How do you know that?”

“It was in the invitation,” James told her as he stood with her. Claire tucked her clutch purse beneath her arm and smiled at him. He was tall, dark, and handsome. So what was it that was making her hesitate in giving him her phone number? Perhaps it was the thought that maybe he didn’t want it.

“Oh, I didn’t read it. Marie read it and told me I had to come. But I think I’ve taken up enough of your time tonight, and if I’m honest, I’ve had a little too much to drink.” She had needed out of the club before she did something brazen like ask this man to come home with her.

“Then let me walk you home.”

“I’m taking a cab,” she told him as she took a step back.

“Then I’ll walk you outside to your cab,” James told her with authority as he held out his hand to her. “To be honest, you’re a little tipsy and I’m worried, so do a man a favor and let him at least walk you to a cab.” Claire wanted to argue with him that she was fine, but as soon as she opened her mouth someone bumped into her back and toppled her over.

The first thing she noticed about him up close was that he’d worn just enough cologne that only someone hugging him would smell it. Her fingers dug into the sleeves of his suit jacket as she tried to keep from losing her footing, and she could feel the sinewy muscle underneath the material. The man was strong, but it was in a way that made him look professional rather than rugged. When she looked up, she could see that there was a ring of green around his brown eyes. They were concerned, kind eyes and she was lost in them momentarily.

“I’m so sorry! I lost my footing in these damn shoes and-”

“It’s alright. I’m fine,” Claire said quietly as she found where her feet were and regained her dignity by standing in her heels. The woman tried to apologize again, but Claire smiled at her and waved it off. “Really, no big deal.”

“Are you okay?” James asked as he took hold her elbow as if she were going to topple over at any second.

“Really, I’m fine,” she lied as she tried to keep her breathing normal. The truth was, in that split second, she’d wondered what it would be like to have those arms wrapped around her in an embrace that was anything but friendly.

Chapter Four

“You’re cold.” James pulled off his jacket and slid it over her shoulders without waiting for her response. It was so heavenly warm that she didn’t argue and she couldn’t help but inhale gently at the manly scent she pegged as a mix of his cologne and just him.

“How’d you know?” she asked as she peered down the street for a cab driver. It was classic New York traffic and there wasn’t a cab driver in sight.

“You have goosebumps on your arms.” He hesitated a moment and she looked up at him, wondering if he’d laugh at how short she was compared to him if she took off her heels. “I have a car, you know. I could drive you home if you don’t want to walk or take a cab.”

Only people with a lot of money have cars in New York, Claire thought as she narrowed her gaze. He seemed to catch on to what she was thinking and shrugged wordlessly. “Alright, but this doesn’t mean you’re coming in or anything,” she warned him as she gripped his jacket tighter around her shoulders.

James chuckled as he put his hand on the small of her back and led her across the street to a parking garage. They stepped into the elevator and were whisked up to the fourth floor where James helped her into the well-lit row of cars. They stopped in front of a shiny, black sedan that was nondescript, and yet it told her James had more money than she’d originally thought.

“Nice car,” she told him as he helped her into the leather upholstered passenger seat. Claire tilted her head back and watched him as he walked around the front of the vehicle. He had his thumb and his finger on his chin as he smiled and she couldn’t help but smile even though he wasn’t looking at her. There was something catchy about that grin.

James slid into the driver’s seat and turned on the heat so that she would be comfortable. The car purred when it started rather than roared, but it was a quiet purr that told her there was power under the hood. “Do you want to listen to some music?” he asked as his thumb hovered over the touchscreen.

“What’re you listening to?” Without answering, he pressed down on the touchscreen and music filled the interior. It was a sweet, haunting melody sung by a woman who sounded lost. “Jazz,” Claire answered for herself. She found her foot was tapping gently to the beat as James pulled out of the parking space.

“What’s your address?” he asked as he pressed a button on the screen again.

Claire recited her address and the vehicle automatically began to give directions to her apartment complex. She’d heard of cars like this and she’d thought about buying one herself, but what was the point when she lived in New York City and could get a cab at any time? Well, almost any time. They had been sparse that evening.

“So what’s it like, being the weather girl of New York City?” James asked conversationally as he took a right. Traffic was still heavy and they had to sit at a red light for a good seven minutes.

“It’s not what I thought it would be. I got the position by accident,” she admitted to him as she pulled his jacket around her tighter. It wasn’t that she was cold, but they were getting closer to her apartment and she didn’t want to leave him yet.

“How so?” he prompted as he pressed the gas pedal.

“Well, I ended up going to college to be a meteorologist, and not the kind that stands in front of the cameras. I wanted to travel the world and record all the different weather patterns. Did you know they have positions down in Antarctica? It would have been nice to end up there.”

“Seriously? You can’t even handle sixty-five degree weather in the fall,” James replied incredulously as he turned onto her street.

“But it would have been beautiful. Could you imagine the weather down there? Not to mention the wildlife.” Claire lifted her head so that she could look at his face and marveled at his strong jaw in the glow from the street lamps.

He expertly parallel parked next to her building and paid the meter before he came around to help her out of the car. Claire stood awkwardly as she wondered if he would ask for her number, but she didn’t have to wait long. He grasped her elbow gently in his warm hand and helped her up the stairs to the door. The doorman eyed her a moment to see if she was under any kind of duress, and then he stepped to the side and said a polite, quiet good evening to the both of them.

“This is a nice building,” James commented as he led her to the elevator. Claire kept one hand in the pocket of his suit jacket as she walked and looked around at the complex’s foyer before the elevator doors closed.

“It’s pretty secure and the rent is reasonable. So yeah, it’s nice,” she said as she leaned forward and pressed her floor number on the panel. There was a second’s hesitation where she wondered if it was a good idea to let him know where she lived, but it passed quickly. The man was dangerous in a way that made her feel excited and alive, but not afraid.

The rest of their journey up to the seventh floor was in silence. Claire pulled out her apartment key and cell phone from her clutch purse. She texted Marie as she and James walked to her apartment door to let her friend know she’d arrived home safely. Then she stood outside of her door and shifted on her heels as she looked into those disconcerting, brown eyes rimmed with green.

“Would you like to come in?” she heard herself ask before her brain could tell her no.