Mystery Date (Harlequin Blaze) (9 page)

Just listen to her, sounding as if she brazenly touched herself in front of hidden men every day of the week.

His deep, tight laugh made her nipples go hard again.

Narrowing her gaze, she said, “You don’t actually have anything planned, do you?”

“Not true.”

He sounded strained, and she took great delight in that because she’d gotten to him. She was in first place in this contest.
Finally.

He continued. “I’ve got dinner warming in the oven. Just a simple shrimp linguine.”

“Something you effortlessly whipped up?” With the wineglass in one hand, she plucked the phone off the blanket with the other, standing up, stretching. Teasing him a bit more with her body and reveling in it.

He cleared his throat. “I cook every so often, but I always need an easy recipe to work from. I’m not a good freestyler.”

“Don’t tell anyone, but I play it pretty safe in the kitchen. I know I do damned good comfort food—that’s why people wanted me as their private chef—but it was my show’s producers who added that flirty country presentation you see on TV. I’ve never been what you’d call avant-garde with my flavors.” It was more comfortable that way, knowing where she was going, never deviating from what was tried and true.

Except for tonight.

She wandered toward the side of the room, where a stereo system waited behind the glass doors of a dark wood cabinet. She could tell Callum’s gaze was tracking her, and the rush of desire that had overwhelmed her just minutes ago heated up again.

“Go ahead,” he said as she peered at the setup. “Open it. There’s an iPod dock in there, and you can choose what you want to hear from the playlists.”

She did as he suggested, accessing the device, looking at the songs he had downloaded. “Lots of classic country, I see. You’re a Johnny Cash fan?”

“Born and bred. Why don’t you put one of his songs on?”

She randomly chose a title from the playlist, then listened to the guitar and echoing percussion, swaying a little to the beat. “I haven’t heard Johnny Cash in years. I dated a guy once who...” She decided against dragging out the past, shaking her head. “Forget it.”

“Tell me. You dated a guy once who did what?”

He actually sounded as if he wanted to hear about her boring romantic life up until now. Suddenly, a different sort of line appeared in front of Leigh, and this one wasn’t about how far she would go on a strange date. This one was more about how much of herself she was willing to give this man.

Was he into mind games just as much as the ones they were playing physically?

She’d find out. “It’s on the tip of my tongue to say that I’m embarrassed to tell you about ex-boyfriends, but that would seem silly after...” She glanced back at the blanket and pillows. “Well, you know.”

“I’m interested, Leigh. But you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

Again, he wasn’t pushing her, and that made her more comfortable.

“He was my first boyfriend,” she said, looking at the fire. “Although I’m not sure
boyfriend
is the right term.”

“Why?”

“I think both of us were under some peer pressure to date. In senior year I hung out with a group of girls who all got serious boyfriends at the same time, leaving me the odd one out. He was buddies with one of my friends’ best friends, and he was single, and...it just went from there. Movie nights with the crowd, school dances.... I was curious and he was curious, and the next thing I knew, it happened in the backseat of his car while we were parked on Glen Gulley Lane with a Johnny Cash cassette playing.”

She didn’t add that during their backseat fumblings, she hadn’t felt much of anything. Just a teenage curiosity about sex, as well as a need to get it over with. She’d also tried her best to keep as many clothes on as possible, which hadn’t been awkward
at all.
Right. It was just that she hadn’t wanted him to see what she looked like with her clothes off.

“What happened afterward?” Callum asked. For some reason, he sounded as if she’d been telling a sad story.

“We kept dating for a little bit longer,” she said, refusing to let him believe her life was that pathetic. “For a month more, at least. Then it faded away like some high-school relationships do.” And when he’d asked someone else to prom three months later, it hadn’t bothered her.

Really. It hadn’t. On that night, she’d had a fun time with a few friends at home, eating ice cream, chips and fast food in front of a scary-movie marathon on TV. It’d been about a week before Hannah had drowned, and after that the bingeing had just gotten worse.

Callum didn’t say anything for a moment, but then his voice came back on the phone. “Letting you go was his loss.”

She laughed. “Honestly, it was a long time ago, and it wasn’t like he was the love of my life.”

“Who was?”

She didn’t have an answer, and that sounded even sadder than the story she’d just told.

“Let’s just put it this way,” she said, walking away from the stereo and toward the fire. “I’ve always been a free agent, and I like my status.” She took a quick swig of wine before wrapping one arm over her chest as she stared into the flames.

“Good,” he said simply.

“Good?”

“I don’t believe in being tied down, either, anymore. Life’s too short.”

Anymore?
What did that mean?

She started to turn around, seeing an opening to find out, but he cut her off.

“Don’t think that you’re going to get a story out of me, Leigh.”

“Oh, come on, just one tiny anecdote? Something from high school, college? A disastrous-date story to amuse me?”

“I’m afraid that my stories aren’t so amusing.”

It was as if a knife had slashed the invisible screen between them, reminding her that this wasn’t your average date, and he wasn’t your average man.

And God help her, but that intrigued her more than ever.

She stared at the darkness above her, thinking that she saw some movement—a hand reaching up to push back some hair?

Then the image was gone.

Her heart jarred in her chest, but she calmed it, shaking her head and drinking more wine.

Then she lightly said into the phone, “Not knowing who you are is going to dog me, you know. Was that your intention? To frustrate the hell out of me even after this date?”

“Never.” The word was loaded, as if he’d just made some sort of decision. He sounded distant for some reason. “I don’t intend to frustrate you.”

“I’m only joking with you, Callum, but I have to wonder.... I’m not sure there’s anywhere to go from, well, what we just did.” A more immediate version of phone sex. “I doubt there’s much mileage in only watching me all night.”

“I could watch you for...” He stopped.

What had he been about to say? He could watch her for hours? Days? Why did she think that he might’ve even been about to say “forever”?

That was ridiculous, though. He didn’t know her and she didn’t know him, at least not well enough so that she could guess his identity from his voice or his taste in rental mansions. The only interest he had in her was for one or two dates.

Even so, her stomach fell a bit at the thought that this would be over soon.

She listened to the music a little longer, and when she glanced back up at the railing, she could’ve sworn that he wasn’t there anymore. She didn’t know why; she just felt it.

“Why don’t you come to the dining room?” he said over the phone.

Yup, he’d left the upper floor, because now that she was paying more attention, she couldn’t hear that faint echo of his real voice anymore. It was all phone.

She made her way out of the room, going to the long table set with bone china, a bottle of chilled French Chardonnay by her plate beside a corkscrew. A warmed bowl of his shrimp linguine awaited, along with a salad that he must’ve stored in the refrigerator.

So he
had
sneaked off at some point, and he’d done it because he wanted to put the food on the table.

“Damn,” she said as she sat in the same chair that she had last night. “Seems I just missed you.”

“Seems you did.” He sounded pumped, as if the risk of being caught had turned him on.

He didn’t have to tell her to help herself to the offerings. She knew the drill by now.

And she wished this wouldn’t be the last strange date with the man who’d somehow become more than a basket date to her.

W
HEN
L
EIGH OPENED
the door to the hotel room she was sharing with Margot, her friend hopped out of her bed, pushing her computer from her lap and throwing off her covers.

She didn’t even have to ask—she just gave Leigh a wide-eyed look.

“You totally did it with him,” she said. “Oh, my God, Leigh. You had sex with the Phantom!”

Leigh almost gave in to the urge to lead Margot on just for the fun of it but didn’t. “There was no sex involved. Not the regular kind anyway.”

“What?”

It was pretty satisfactory when Leigh meandered toward the bathroom and Margot chased her down. There’d been so many times in the past when the tables had been turned, and now who had the exciting life?

Actually, life had been exciting up until the moment she had walked out Callum’s door and gotten into the waiting limo. She hadn’t been expecting any miracles tonight, like seeing him step out of the shadows to reveal his identity, but she’d at least wanted...

What? A meaningful connection with a man who’d never asked her for more than fun and games?

“Leigh, you’d better answer me,” Margot said, pulling up behind her as Leigh flipped on the bathroom light. “Do you know what I’ve been doing this whole time? Making last-minute arrangements for Dani’s surprise wedding party get-together next week at the ranch.” A bunch of sorority sisters were gathering to work on reception plans, unbeknownst to Dani. Any excuse for a party. “Oh,” Margot added, “I almost forgot that I was
also
obsessing about what was happening on your second date. Spill! What do you mean that you kind of had sex with him?”

Leigh shrugged, grinning as she rested her phone on the counter and then fetched an elastic band out of her beauty bag, whipping her hair off her shoulders and into the kind of no-fuss do she normally wore. Then, still taxing Margot’s patience, she walked toward the tub, running the water and adding the sweet-smelling gel the hotel had provided.

“Excuse me?” Margot said.

“I’m just taking a bath. I’ve never really put aside time to do that, you know? But I’m in the mood to be a Calgon girl.” She wanted to relax, have some alone time, think about Callum. She was still worked up, damn it. Unfulfilled.

“So that’s it?” Margot threw up her hands, cuffing the sides of her button-down nightshirt in the process. “You’re going radio silent on me?”

Leigh began to unbutton her sweater, and Margot gave a frustrated sound, then walked out, half shutting the door behind her, just like in college when they’d roomed together. God knew how many bathroom chats they’d had while one of them would shower and the other one would put on makeup or fix her hair just outside the door. Margot had never minded stripping down in front of others, but Leigh? She’d never dared.

Times, they had a-changed. Thinking of how far she’d gone tonight, Leigh took off her clothes while Margot said, “Okay. I get it. You’re punishing me for keeping the whole book contract thing to myself, and because I didn’t tell you about my fling with Clint right away.”

“No, I’m not.” She turned off the water, then got into the tub. The bubbles surrounded her, tickling her chin as she sank into luxury.

“Then you just want to keep everything to yourself. I understand.”

Maybe she’d tortured Margot enough. “Just come in here, Marg.”

Margot hesitated. And why not, when Leigh had never allowed anyone to get within range whenever she was undressed?

Her friend crept into the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet seat, giving Leigh the raised eyebrow. Was she wondering what was up with the newfound “you can be in here when I’m nekid” attitude?

Negligently flicking some bubbles with her thumb and index finger, Leigh grinned. “I’ve never met anyone like him. He knew just what to say to me.” How to make the woman come out in her, and how to make her touch herself in all the right places.

“Did he reveal his identity?”

“No.”

“But you kind of had sex with him.”

“Sort of?”

“Leigh, you’re driving me ding-dong here.”

“All right, we’ll start from the beginning. Let’s just say that after I got to his place, I took a walk on the deserted beach and talked with him on a phone he gave me.”

Margot crossed her arms over her chest. “And that’s when he said ‘all the right words’ to you. He sweet-talked you the whole night?”

“I’d say so.” Leigh submerged herself to just below her mouth, sliding an impish glance to Margot. “I had the equivalent of phone sex with him.”

“On the beach?”

Leigh only smiled as Margot’s eyes slowly got wider than she’d ever seen them, even after that night in college when Leigh had downed five Killer Kamikaze shots and still been able to walk a straight line at their main hangout, Desperado’s.

“You had pseudosex on the beach,” Margot repeated.

“I only flashed my undies at him there. But once we were inside, things went a little further.”

“Oh, God, I don’t want to ask how far.” Margot covered her face, then uncovered it. “Okay, how far?”

A rascally smile was the only answer Leigh gave.

“That far,” Margot said, breaking into a reluctant grin. “You devil, you. I didn’t know you had it in you. Did anything else happen after that?”

“Sure. I ate alone again and we had a good chat about movies and books. Turns out he likes thrillers.”

Margot was still waiting, and when she clearly realized that Leigh had nothing more to offer, she stood. “So you weren’t lying. There was no sex with you two from that point on.”

“Not even another raunchy phone call.” And that had confused her more than anything. It’d been as if, after she’d teased him about being frustrated, he’d decided that he’d pushed her far enough and had acted the gentleman the rest of the night.