Shameless (8 page)

“Cute.” She replaced the frame on the shelf beside a miniature dumbbell he used as a bookend. “Do you have kids?” She headed back toward the couch.

“Uh, no. No, I don’t.”

“Mm. Married two times, yet no children.” She sent him a questioning glance over her shoulder.

How did she know about—? Ah, yes. The Extravaganza. His face heated. His marital history wasn’t something he was proud of. At all. “We didn’t want— I mean, I didn’t want— Not every marriage produces children.” Christ almighty, his speaking abilities with this woman ranked right along with his four-year-old nephew’s. He needed to change the focus from himself. “What about you? Any kids?” Of course he already knew the answer to the question from the P.I.’s report.

She reached behind the couch to open the blinds. Her dress came dangerously close to revealing heaven again, but somehow it remained in place. “No. Do all these windows look out on the club?”

“Yes. It lets me keep an eye on things.”

She peered out the window overlooking the Olympic-quality weight room. “Do you like kids?”

“Other people’s kids.”

“You don’t want any of your own?”

“No.”
Wait a minute
. John narrowed his eyes. He’d been around women before who were on the prowl for a husband. He hadn’t pegged Sam Rossi as the marriage-minded type, but this conversation sure sounded suspect. Was that her agenda? God, he hoped not. “Okay, Samantha. Why all the questions? What gives?”

Her sudden laughter surprised him as she turned away from the window. “Relax, big guy,” she said, coming over to perch on the edge of his desk, giving him a nice view of her thigh. “I’m not looking to be the third Mrs. John Everest, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

He breathed an inward sigh of relief. “Marriage and kids aren’t in the cards for you?”

She stood and put her hands on her hips. “Do I look like the marrying kind?”

Most definitely not, he mused, raising his eyebrows. No, Samantha Rossi wasn’t the wifely type. She was more the type he’d like to—

“So, don’t worry,” she said, interrupting his inappropriate thoughts. “I’m not looking for a husband.”

He flicked off the computer and circled the desk. “What are you looking for?”

One perfectly arched eyebrow lifted. “Sex.” At his wide eyes, she laughed. “Close your mouth, Everest. I’m kidding.”

John told himself he was relieved to hear it. Smirking, he stepped in front of her, reached forward and tweaked a dangly silver earring. “There’s something about you, Samantha Rossi.”

She smiled unevenly and moved away to pick up her coat and purse. “Ready?”

He opened the door and ushered her into the hall. As he locked the door, she said, “So what about you? Is another marriage in the cards for you?”

“Why so curious?”

“I like to know what kind of man I’m going out with. Is that wrong?”

He shrugged. “I suppose not.” They reached the stairs. She went first. His eyes focused on how her shapely calves flexed with each step. It occurred to him he hadn’t dated anyone outside the fitness industry in years. Sam had a great figure, but it wasn’t hard and athletic like the women he normally dated. She was curvy, soft and utterly feminine. He rethought his ideals.

“You didn’t answer my question.” She tossed her hair and peered at him over her shoulder.

“Um, what question?”

She smiled. She had him flustered, just as she’d planned. The dress had done its job. “You know — wedding bells, honeymoon, wife number three?”

“No. Marriage obviously doesn’t agree with me, and vice versa.”

As they walked along the wide hallway, she wondered again what kind of man would marry and divorce twice at such a young age. At least he was smart enough to refrain from reproducing and putting his kids through the hell of divorce.

The occasional clanking of barbells or pounding of a racquet ball reached her ears, but for the most part, the place seemed to be clearing out. She remembered reading on the front door the club closed at nine. “This is a beautiful place, Everest. How long have you been in business?”

“A little over five years.”

“Didn’t I hear at the Extravaganza you started with one club and now have over fifty?”

He nodded but said nothing.

At least he wasn’t a braggart. A checkmark in his “plus” column. One of few. She whistled under her breath. “You should be proud of yourself. I wouldn’t know the first thing about running a business, let alone running a franchise. You must be pretty smart.”

“Maybe I’ll show you my business plan someday.” He yanked her into a room on the right, shutting the door behind them. For a moment they were in complete darkness and she thought perhaps she’d taken her game a bit too far.

The lights flickered on. A quick look revealed a padded table and a shelf full of lotions and oils. A massage room. She peered up at John. He wore that same intensely arrogant stare she’d hated so much the first time they’d met. Strange, but it didn’t bother her now. In fact, it was kind of—

“Okay, beautiful,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s up?”

“Excuse me?”

He smirked. “The new attitude, Samantha. The last time I saw you, you hated my guts. Now you show up in this dress, you ask all sorts of personal questions and make nicey nicey, like you’re trying to butter me up for something. I can’t figure it out. You’re not looking for a husband, you’re not looking for sex—” his mouth twitched, “but you’re up to something. So, come on. Out with it.”

“Can’t a woman be nice to you without you becoming all suspicious?”

“Not you.”

“Haven’t you heard about us Geminis? We’re really moody, like a split personality. One minute we behave one way, the next we—”

“Samantha.”

She sighed, realizing he’d backed her into a corner, figuratively and literally. She smoothed her dress over her hips, hoping she could distract him with a better view. No such luck. “Okay. Look. I won’t pretend I was thrilled when you conned me into going out with you. I’d had a horrible day and was in a really bad mood by the time you saw me. So, about tonight… I figured I could continue to act like a bitch and make the evening miserable, or I could be nice and pretend to have a good time.”

His eyes narrowed. Then he laughed.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded.

He shook his head, still chuckling. “Most women would beat around the bush or make up some story, but not you. Honest to the core, aren’t you? I should’ve known.”

She smiled at him. Damn, she was good.

“So what’s with this dress? Is that just part of trying to be nice?” he asked, raking his eyes over her. His gaze lingered on her cleavage. Sam’s nipples tightened in response. She hoped he didn’t notice. His raised eyebrows told her he had.

“What? This old thing?” she drawled, fingering the shimmery material, hoping to keep the moment light. “It’s just something I had lying around.”

He moved in closer, backing her further into the corner. He reached forward and for a moment she thought he might kiss her — her lips tingled at the thought. But he just rustled her earring. The silvery strands tickled her neck. He met her gaze and held it. “Why do I still get the feeling you’re up to something?”

She blinked fast twice, then gave him her most irresistible smile. “Stop questioning my motives, Everest, and enjoy the evening. Okay?” She patted his cheek and scooted around him, heading for the door.

A few minutes later they drove north through town in John’s dark blue BMW. She’d expected him to drive something red and flashy. Like a Porsche or some other type of penis extender.

“Where are we going?”

“Like I told you Saturday — some place where we can get to know each other.” She would have expected a creepy leer to go along with those words, but instead, he looked almost apologetic.

Odd
. She faced forward, tightening her coat around her even though the temperature in the car was plenty warm. John Everest would be a challenge. Her purpose tonight was to size him up, get to know him better, charm him and get him totally enamored with her, so when —
if
— she decided he was the one, he’d have a hard time refusing her request.

So far so good. He wasn’t into marriage or kids, just as she’d figured — she was usually right about these things. But she hadn’t figured he’d be so quick to see through her act. She’d been too “nicey nicey,” as he’d put it. She’d have to be a little more herself, without actually letting on she still didn’t like him all that much. Okay, so she was sort of attracted to him.

She glanced sidelong at him. He had a nice, strong profile. None of his features were too prominent, none too weak. He was handsome without being pretty, with full, sensual lips gladly inherited by either a son or a daughter. He looked like a man who would be comfortable and in control of any situation.

She frowned. She needed to be the one in control in this scenario, but tonight’s date had her a little concerned.
Some place where we can get to know each other better
. Hmm.

The rain let up by the time they pulled in front of a marina on Lake Union. “Don’t tell me we’re going out on the water in this weather.”

John chuckled. “Okay, I won’t tell you.”

She envisioned being beaten in the face by the wind and rain, and holding on to the side rail for balance as the boat rocked and dipped in the choppy water. “Look, Everest, I’m all for a little adventure, but—”

“Relax. We’re going
on
the boat, not out on it.” He climbed out of the car and came around to her side. He opened the door and helped her out. He had stopped under an overhang on her side so she wouldn’t get wet. He left her there as he parked the car, set his alarm with a loud beep and jogged toward her across the empty lot.

His movements were smooth and athletic. His taste in clothing was impeccable. He wore a dusky orange shirt the color of a sunset and brown wool slacks expertly cut to his physique. Finishing the look were Italian loafers and a chocolate leather blazer. All in all, the combination was… sexy as hell.

He reached for her arm. “Shall we?” He steered her onto the covered gangway. The wind had lessened to a slight breeze, so they stayed relatively dry as they walked. He stopped in front of a big boat.

“
This
one’s yours?” Wow.

“Yeah. She was one of those impulse buys. I don’t get out on her much.”

“This was an impulse buy? God. My last impulsive purchase was matching bra and panties from Victoria’s Secret.”

“Really?” He stepped beside her. “I’d like to see those someday. Fair’s fair.”

“As in, you showed me yours, now I’ll show you mine?”

He gave her a lopsided grin. “Something like that, yeah.”

Sam shook her head and continued to survey what could only be described as a yacht. The name “Alimony” was written in a blue swirling script on the side. “That’s appropriate.”

“Maybe so, but I didn’t name her. I bought her from a retired Navy admiral on his fifth or sixth wife. I figured I’d change her name, but I don’t know. I’ve kind of grown to like it. Keeps things in perspective, you know, just in case I ever get goofy ideas about settling down again.”

She couldn’t help smiling. He climbed onto the
Alimony
then held out his hand. If she’d been wearing anything else, she’d have refused his help, but in these god-awful shoes… She took his hand.

One quick motion and she stood in front of him, their faces inches apart. The steam from their breaths mingled and swirled. Even without the overhead lights from the gangway to provide illumination, there was no mistaking that look in John’s eyes. A fat raindrop splatted onto the bridge of his nose. Then one onto hers. They laughed and he pulled her onto the covered deck and opened the wood and brass-trimmed door.

“Wow,” she said, doing a slow spin, trying to take it all in. “This is beautiful.” Her gaze lit upon a small round table decked in white linen. On top was a single red rose in a crystal vase. The only lights were from candles scattered throughout the room. Soft piano music tinkled from unseen speakers.

John helped her off with her coat, his hands lingering on her shoulders. “Why do I feel like Daniel in the lion’s den?” she asked, stepping away from his touch and turning to give him an accusing look.

His smile faltered. “You don’t need to be nervous with me.”

“Who says I’m nervous?”

He shrugged. “I’m just saying this might seem isolated out here,” he swept his arm in an arc to encompass their surroundings, “but we’re not alone.”

“What? Are the munchkins going to pop out to welcome me to Munchkin Land or something?”

He smirked. “No munchkins, but there are a few people in the galley preparing our meal. So, you’re safe with me.” He looked almost disappointed.

She nodded her head in acknowledgment, thankful for his good manners.

He walked to a bar in the corner, where a chilled bottle of something sat in an ice bucket. “Champagne?”

She nodded.
Dom Perignon
. “Are you trying to impress me?”

“Is it working?”

She grinned. “I’ll let you know.”

He handed her a crystal goblet and watched as she sipped, her red lipstick leaving a delicate smudge on the rim. His gaze lingered on the pale, smooth column of her throat as she swallowed. “Well?”