Mystery Date (Harlequin Blaze) (7 page)

Probably a disposable one, knowing the lengths Callum went to in order to maintain his privacy.

“From your host,” the woman said, nodding in farewell. “You have a good night, miss.”

Leigh squashed the urge to ask if the driver knew who’d hired her, but she was sure Beth Dahrling would’ve kept her boss’s identity private just like everything else.

“Thank you,” she said, accepting the phone. No doubt Callum was going to call her to tell her what would come next. All she’d been told by Beth last night was that she’d be picked up in a limo at the hotel and then she needed to wait on the beach.

But Leigh didn’t mind the lack of information. It made this brief game she and Callum were playing that much more interesting. And, hell, when she went back to her ho-hum real life, she’d be grateful for “interesting.”

Going to work, coming home or to whatever hotel she was staying at for the show, going over scripts, going back to work... She hadn’t known how much she’d been missing out on until she’d had a glimpse of something much different last night.

The driver gestured toward the bougainvillea-lined beach gate, and Leigh went through it, walking on a path that brought her to a quiet stretch of sand and the murmuring of waves.

As she headed toward the water, she pulled her sweater tighter. The mild November evening wasn’t that cold, though. So why was she shivering deep in her belly?

Because she was excited. Nervous. Just as worked up as a girl on her first date—one who had no idea what to expect from a guy. She hadn’t slept last night because she’d kept reliving their date over and over, smiling as she lay in bed, hearing Callum’s sexy voice echo through the mansion and through her, too. Even now her arms got goose bumps as she remembered his low, mysterious tone, just as thick and sinful as the honey she’d used to make dinner for him.

But everything about him was darker than honey. So much darker. And it was almost as if last night’s date had never ended, wrapping itself into this one.

They’d had their foreplay. Bring on whatever came next.

The sun almost looked like honey as it set over the rolling ocean, drizzling down the sky in shades of gold, blue and orange. A few seagulls winged overhead toward the craggy cliff. Up above, she recognized the graceful stone exterior of Callum’s rental mansion, and she wondered if he was at a window watching for her. Wondered if his hair really would be black, as she’d imagined. Or if his eyes were that Irish-blue she’d pictured. If he was tall and muscled, or maybe—

The phone rang, and she stopped in her tracks, staring at the cell as the vibrations of sound danced up her arm. It was him.

Whoever “him” really was.

Looking up at his mansion, she took a deep breath, making sure he didn’t see how anxious she was, then answered the call. “Enjoying the view?”

He greeted her with a soft laugh that sent ripples of pleasure all through her, settling between her legs. How could he do that to her with just a laugh?

“I’m very much enjoying it,” he said.

“You’ve got a perfect view of the sunset.”

“I wasn’t talking about that.”

She absently tugged at the bottom of her big sweater, which covered most of the country cotton dress she’d chosen for tonight. It was light blue, breezy, almost innocent except for the way the hem fluttered to the middle of her thighs, hinting at sauciness. She was wearing a pair of below-the-knee leather cowgirl boots to go with it.

He spoke again. “You look beautiful, Leigh.”

Right. She still looked like a country girl, except with a bit of shine on her. “That’s nice of you to say.”

A pause stretched over the line. Then, “If I didn’t know better, I would say you’re not used to compliments.”

She shrugged. The people who worked on her cooking show complimented her enough: the makeup artist, the stylist, the director. But she’d always figured it was their job to make her look good.

It could be that Callum was right about how she took compliments, though. It was just that, she’d never been the gorgeous one. She’d never been in first place for anything. That distinction had always belonged to someone else, like her older sister, Hannah, before that fateful day she’d gone for her last swim at a summer party. And then there’d been Margot in college, leaving Leigh in the dust again when it came to looks as well as accomplishments—at least until last night, when Margot had confessed that she wasn’t Miss Perfect anymore, what with losing her latest book contract.

But Margot was never a loser, and she would end up even more perfect in the end. Just wait and see. Hannah had been like that, too, and Leigh had done nothing but admire them both, wanting to emulate them, always trying her best to keep up.

Then, by some hormonal miracle, she’d lost her baby fat recently, and that was when she’d realized that maybe she could be in first place, too.

That didn’t mean she wanted to ruin this date and talk about life epiphanies with Callum, though.

She made a show of glancing around the abandoned beach. “Not much of a crowd here.”

“This is a secluded stretch, and it’s not tourist season right now. That’s why it’s so peaceful.”

“Are you coming down to join me?”

“Once again,” he said with a chuckle, “good try.”

She looked back up at the mansion—its blank windows, its imposing facade, its secrets. “I half expected to see a makeshift kitchen set up down here so I could cook you some beach food this time around.”

“We’ll get to the food, and the good news is that you’ll have the night off.”

“I liked cooking for you.”

“And I liked eating your meal after you left.”

If there was one thing she’d always done well, it was cook. The scales had always testified to that.

She brushed off the thought, knowing that Callum was watching her as she was right now—pounds lighter, with the breeze blowing her skirt around her much slimmer thighs. She felt impulsive. Totally revved up and ready for more adventure right
now.

“So,” she said. “Are you telling me that you’ll be cooking for me this time?”

“I’ve prepared something.”

“Nothing too decadent I hope. I splurged enough last night.”

“You hardly ate anything.”

“Calories add up, you know.”

He got quiet again, then said, “The last thing I want you to do is think about what you can and can’t have. Promise me that.”

Raising her eyebrows, she decided not to comment. Most guys didn’t understand what it was like to constantly watch their weight. Damned if she would ever put all those pounds back on.

His next words rocked her. “You’ve always been the prettiest woman in the room, Leigh. Don’t you know that?”

Her skin burned with the compliment, but she still wasn’t used to it. He was only buttering her up, right?

“Thanks,” she said, grinning, starting to walk along the shore while the waves reached toward her, then pulled back with a hiss of foam on sand.

“You don’t believe me,” he said.

It was time for levity again. “Maybe I would if you’d tell me the exact circumstances under which you’ve seen me before, Callum....”

“Your persistence is entertaining.”

“Hey, that’s what I do for a living. Entertain people. Have them watch my every televised move.”

The air seemed to grow sultrier at her comment. Was it because he didn’t respond right away? Or was it because she liked the thought of being watched by
him,
entertaining him even now as delicious tingles gnawed at her?

It was as if he could read her mind. “What does it feel like?” he asked. “Being in front of the camera, never knowing who’s watching?”

“Good question.” She came to a stop, allowing the breeze to keep playing with her short hem, hoping he was getting a rise out of the subtle, flirty motion. The extended verbal foreplay was getting to her, and she wondered if there’d ever be more than just this.

But she was also mulling over his question. What
was
it like to be in front of the camera? She’d never really thought about it that much, but in this moment, she realized that she’d always wanted to be looked at. And now that she had a new body, new confidence, it was fun. Thrilling.

“I guess I get an adrenaline rush being on TV,” she said softly.

“What exactly do you like about it?”

They were clearly gearing up for part two of the game they’d begun last night, testing the line that separated get-to-know-you politeness and...well, the sort of things you’d only do behind a closed door. He obviously wanted more than the taste of honey she’d been teasing him with while she’d eaten dinner and he’d watched.

And she wanted it, too. That was why she’d come here again. That was why she allowed her sweater to gape open, showing a bit more of her dress as she turned toward the mansion on the cliff.

Her pulse kicked, the oxygen thin in her lungs, making her voice breathy. “I’ve never told anyone this before.”

“You can tell me.”

What was it about him that made her expose a different side of herself?

“I like knowing that whoever is watching me on TV turned the channel so they could see me and what I do in the kitchen,” she said. “I like that they
want
to watch.” She took a step toward the mansion—just the first of hopefully many more. “I like wondering what they’re thinking as they watch me.”

Her heartbeat accelerated as she waited for his response.

When it came, his tone was rough. “What am I thinking right now?”

“You tell me.”

“I’m sure you already know. You came back to this mansion tonight knowing.”

Bolder and bolder. And with each passing second, throbs of hot blood took her over—in her chest, her belly, her clit.

Here it went.

“I think,” she said, “that
you
liked the little show I put on for you with the food last night, and now you’re watching how the wind is playing with my dress. You’re wondering if I’m just a tease and I’m going to give you only a peek of leg before I reach down and smooth the material over my thighs so you don’t catch an accidental look at what’s underneath my skirt.”

Even as she said it, the breeze was getting the best of the cotton, making it inch up. She fought the good-girl instinct to push the skirt down.

He spoke. “You’re right. But I’m also hoping...”

“What?”

“That the wind is going to help me out and lift that skirt higher, even if you don’t.”

Ba-boom.
His blunt words hit her with the force of a pounding wave, making her stomach swirl and her clit ache.

The decent Leigh—the one who’d grown up obeying all the rules and never coloring out of the lines—would’ve bolted now that she had nothing more to fulfill for the basket date. But the decent girl had already left the building, and a new girl had arrived.

“I’ve never objected to offering help when it’s needed,” Leigh whispered.

As the salty wind blew around her, silence reigned. She’d never done sassy come-ons before with a man. Sex for her had always been perfunctory. Short-term encounters without heat or heart. The only kind of sex that girls with shaky self-esteem had.

This was truly the line she and Callum had been tiptoeing around, and once she fully crossed it, there was no going back.

With a delicious quiver, she crossed it.

Her gaze locked on the brooding mansion as she clutched at her skirt with one hand, then slowly, painstakingly, purposely eased up the material. It slid up her thigh, whispering over her skin with sensuous deliberation.

Was his blood screaming through him just as sharply as hers? Was he also holding his breath, waiting? Needing?

When she got to the top of her thigh, she stopped.

“Red or white?” she said into the phone, unable to resist teasing him. “Devil or angel?”

New Leigh was good at this.

“Does it matter what color your underwear is?” he asked, sounding impatient.

“To me? Absolutely. Undies always matter to a girl, even if you guys don’t care.”

“I care.” His laugh was jagged. “Show me which one you’re wearing, Leigh.”

She laughed. “You’ll need to tell me something about yourself first. Like...do you really have black hair, or is that just what you told me last night to make yourself more mysterious?”

Now his laugh was really amused.

“I’ve got dark hair, just like millions of other men. Is that good enough for you?”

He didn’t say anything more. But she was already looking around her to see that she was still alone on the beach and that there weren’t any other mansions close enough to see what she was doing.

She coaxed her skirt up higher, showing him her delicate white panties.

“I had a feeling they’d be angelic,” he said, and she could tell from his tone that the color
did
matter.

Behind her, the waves sounded as if they were coming in harder, and she felt the push and pull of them in her belly. Desire was washing through her, hot and getting more forceful by the second.

Finally, he spoke. “It’s time for you to come inside, Leigh.”

* * *

A
DAM DIDN’T WAIT
for her to climb up the wood steps that led to the rear of the mansion, where he’d left the back door by the pool unlocked for her.

He had already walked away from the darkened window on the top floor where he’d been standing, watching her on the beach. Watching as she’d revealed a small part of herself to him with such demure sensuality.

A peek of white panties.

The sight of underwear had never worked him up so much, making him go hard so quickly. And maybe it wasn’t the lingerie itself that turned him on—it was the fact that he’d heard from Beth that Leigh wasn’t a woman who slept around much. She also hadn’t had any long-term relationships that Beth knew of, but there Leigh was on the beach, sexy as hell, pulling up her dress for him.

All he wanted to do right now was go downstairs to one of the living rooms, where he’d built a fire earlier, where he’d laid down blankets and oversize silk pillows along with the wine chilling in an ice bucket and the gourmet cheese plate he’d put together. And he wanted to see her face as he stepped into the room.