The Best Mistake of Her Life (2 page)

“I just want company.” She inhaled a breath, struggling for calm. “Who I go with doesn’t matter.”

“Just a hint, Angel Face.” Amused, he tipped his head, as if sharing a secret. “That’s no way to make a guy feel special.”

“You aren’t special,” she said lightly. “You’re trouble.”

His brow bunched together with exaggerated
concern. “Clearly you need to work on your dating techniques,” he said. “I prefer to be wooed.”

“Wooed?” she said, struggling to maintain her composure. “This won’t be a date. You’d simply be attending as my friend.”

His eyebrow climbed meaningfully. “Except, I’m not your friend.”

“You are my
brother’s
friend and I’m asking for a favor.”

Two heartbeats passed before he said, “I guarantee you, Kate.” His eyes grew dark with an emotion that left her spinning. “You don’t want my help.”

She steeled herself against his sensually teasing tone. By the look on his face it was clear he showed no signs of relenting, and her anxiety edged higher. With Memphis accompanying her, no one would dare lecture her about moving on from being the discarded wife. “I’m asking nicely, Memphis.” She tried not to sound as desperate as she felt, digging deep for the Anderson smile that she’d perfected from an early age. “I just need a little of your time,” she said, laying a hand on his arm.

The muscles beneath her fingers bunched, and the last trace of teasing amusement in his eyes died. A myriad of expressions flitted across his face, none of them obvious. But when he spoke, his voice was resigned.

“Sorry. You’ll have to find another guy to parade around town,” he said, and then he turned
and headed for the crew gathered around a monitor, watching a replay of his spectacular fall.

Kate followed him. “There isn’t anyone else.”

He kept his eyes forward. “Where are all your groupies from that expensive private high school you attended?”

“I didn’t have groupies.”

“Okay, I stand corrected,” he said, and then he glanced down at Kate. Unfortunately those long legs of his kept right on going, forcing her high-heeled sandals to double as track shoes. “Perhaps
flock of admirers
is a better phrase?” he went on.

“I didn’t have those, either.”

He let out an amused laugh. “That’s not how I remember it. What I remember is a straitlaced, popular princess who attended the high school with the highest per-capita-income area code in the state, Biscayne Bay Preparatory Academy.” He stopped and stepped close, and Kate’s discomfort stepped up a notch, too. “A girl who was too good to give the time of day to a kid from lowly County High on the seedier side of town.”

Heat crept up Kate’s face. As a teen, there had been a whole host of reasons why Kate had treated her brother’s best friend with a nonchalant reserve. Money had never entered her extensive list. “Your memory is jaded, Memphis.”

He cocked his head, staring down at her with the look of a man who wasn’t going to play along. “My memory is fine. It’s your perception that’s off.” His eyes lingered on her face, and a combination of desire and dread tap-danced across her
chest. “Then again,” he went on softly, “burying your head in the sand was always your specialty.”

By God, her marriage had proved that right.

But if she stopped to list all her mistakes she’d never get anything done. “I didn’t come to discuss the past, Memphis.”

He took a stray lock of her hair between his fingers, absently rubbing the strands, the back of his beautifully muscled forearm millimeters from her breast. “It doesn’t work that way, Angel Face,” he murmured. Her body throbbing, she blinked back the disturbing emotions, careful to keep her face blank. His all-seeing eyes held hers as he went on, his voice reflective. “Yesterday is inextricably linked to tomorrow via that inconvenient concept we call today.”

He toyed with her hair a moment longer before dropping his hand.

She hated sounding desperate, but her tone came close to crossing that line. “I need your help, Memphis.” She paused before going on. “Please.”

For a fraction of a second he looked as if he cared that she was almost begging him. A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Why?”

How to explain to a man who could never relate? “Today I was forced to listen to a divorceé give a detailed description of how her sex life improved after her lousy husband dumped her, and then she proceeded to inform me to get back on the horse before it was too late.”

His eyes crinkled in humor. “Sound advice.”

A skeptical scoff escaped her lips. “I’m growing weary of all the advice.”

“She was just offering you her sympathy.”

“I don’t need sympathy.”

“Yeah. And I’m not sure you deserve it, either,” he said thoughtfully, and a surge of guilt threatened to swamp her. But she pretended not to know what he was talking about when he went on. “Don’t you have any friends you could ask?”

“No one who is available.”

“Everything is for sale in this day and age,” he said easily. “How about an escort service?”

She forced a patient look on her face. “I’m not hiring an escort.”

His eyes crinkled in amusement. “It would come with some pretty powerful perks.”

Kate pressed her lips together and counted to five, reminding herself that Memphis did whatever Memphis wanted. And right now it was clear he was intent on making her pay for the past.

Kate briefly closed her eyes, inhaling deeply and seeking a peaceful calm, not the turbulent chaos that he specialized in eliciting. “I’m not looking for perks.”

Several seconds passed before he said, “Sorry, Kate.” He almost sounded as though he meant it. “I am not going to be your go-to patsy.” A hard glint flickered through his eyes. “I fell for your damsel-in-distress routine before, and I’m not doing it again.”

She ignored the old shame and concentrated on today’s humiliation instead. She had one trick left
to get Memphis to agree. Her name was firmly attached to this reunion and, if nothing else, she would make sure it went off successfully.

“Brian told me you’d refuse,” Kate said. At the mention of her brother, Memphis froze, his face devoid of emotion. The pause was the most awkward to date which, given their history, was saying something. “He asked me to tell you to consider saying yes as a favor to him.”

Memory torqued his every muscle, and Memphis’s body tensed as he remembered the last time he’d seen Kate, right outside Brian’s hospital room. It was the only time in their history he’d seen her so tenaciously outspoken, not to mention
livid
, fighting for what she wanted. The feisty female he’d sensed all along but had rarely seen.

Until today.

Apparently the change was now permanent, and Memphis wondered how much their history together had contributed.

For the first time since she’d chased him down Memphis allowed himself a moment to take in every detail. The sleek blond hair was arranged in a loop at the back of her neck, a style that was casual yet elegant. A few loose tendrils framed her face. The blue eyes were clear and cool—and used to flip-flop between an infuriatingly eager-to-please manner toward her family and the frustrating ice-princess look of disapproval she’d saved for Memphis. Especially while lecturing him after every stunt he and her brother
pulled as teenagers. And then there was the slim figure in a classy sundress that covered her gentle curves, a sight that could tempt a man into doing things he knew wouldn’t turn out well for him. A body that in one memorable night had ferried Memphis straight to heaven right before it had condemned him to hell.

Memphis cleared his throat, sorry all the memories weren’t as easy to banish. “How is Brian?”

“He’s getting around better now,” Kate said, the words expanding the uneasiness in his gut. For a moment her expression softened. “You should give him a call.”

Regret made his voice gruffer than he’d planned. “Eventually.”

There was an awkward pause before she went on. “Well,” Kate said. “Will you help me?”

He’d rather face the harrowing drop he’d done off the rim of the Grand Canyon last year, the one that had come close to getting him killed. All for an action film remembered only for its death-defying stunts by Memphis James and its lethal lack of a decent script.

Memphis ruffled an impatient hand through his hair, studying Kate. His teasing, provoking behavior in the past had all been in response to a teenage obsession that had frustrated the heck out of him. Fortunately, hellaciously sharp chemistry aside, experience had made him immune to her now. But Kate had definitely changed, correctly surmising the one weakness he had left and using it against him—which meant he was
caught between the woman he’d sworn off long ago and the friend to whom he owed a debt that could never be repaid.

Helping Brian’s sister was the least he could do.

“Okay,” he said, letting out his breath and giving one last swipe through his hair. “I’ll do it.” He dropped his hand to his side. “Exactly what does this favor entail?”

“In celebration of completing our task, the reunion committee has voted to combine business with pleasure,” she said. “There are several meetings that have been turned into social functions.”

“Sounds like the kind of pompous crap your private-school classmates would pull,” he muttered.

“I want you to go with me,” she said.

He narrowed his eyes at her, growing wary. “How many events?”

Dropping her gaze to his shoulder, she fingered the belt of her dress, and her uneasy fidgeting didn’t bode well for Memphis. “A dinner party, three cocktail parties …” Kate met his gaze again. “And then there are the two events on the reunion weekend itself.”

Memphis’s mind balked at the thought. “No wonder you can’t find anyone to help you. I’ll agree to the dinner party and one cocktail party.” He shot her a you’re-crazy look. “But I didn’t attend Biscayne Bay Preparatory Academy. No way am I going to your reunion.”

“But that’s the main event I don’t want to attend alone.”

Memphis enunciated each word succinctly. “I am not going to your reunion.” Brian’s old classmates would take one look at Memphis and remember his highly publicized mistake. The one that had almost killed his friend … “That’s beyond the kind of torture I can take. You’ll have to find someone else for that phase of your plan.”

Kate blew out a breath and eyed him steadily. “One dinner party,
two
cocktail parties, and the reunion weekend,” she said, going on smoothly. “Brian will be there, and he’s looking forward to seeing you.”

Damn, another low blow. “One reunion event,” he said, hating that he’d caved in the face of her less-than-subtle pressure. “Either Friday or Saturday. Your choice.”

“Deal,” she said, and then her eyes swept down his well-worn jeans. “And I get to select the clothes you wear.”

The grin hit him hard, as did her sweeping gaze. “You got a problem with my wardrobe?”

She lifted a brow. “I remember what you wore after one of my misguided classmates invited you to our prom.”

“Tiffany Bettingfield didn’t mind my faded kakis and athletic shoes. Because after I watched you get crowned Prom Queen alongside your golden-boy Prom King—” his smile crept higher “—Tiffany suggested we head to my car. I was
happy to show her that there are more important things about a man than his clothes.”

“Hopefully she’s recovered from her lapse in judgment by now,” she said with a sarcasm that was so smooth he almost missed the tone. “Do we have a deal?”

Despite everything, Memphis was delighted with Kate Anderson’s new spunk wrapped in her usual class. “Deal,” he confirmed. “But just to be clear, I’m doing this for Brian, not you.”

Her lips twisted. “Don’t worry, Memphis. I’m under no illusions you would ever do a favor for me.”

A sliver of anger shot through him, momentarily dimming his good humor. There was a time in his teens when he’d have done anything for Kate, if she’d only hinted that she cared. But those days were long gone, killed in a fateful night that had had far-reaching consequences that neither of them could have predicted.

Her ice-princess behavior and hands-off attitude used to frustrate the hell out of him, but these days things were different. He was certainly done touching Kate, but now he was impressed and intrigued by her cool demeanor and polite facade, especially in the face of their tumultuous past.

Yet a small part of him longed to see her emotional cool crack, just for a moment. And, after their teen years, provoking her was as ingrained as breathing.

“I did you a favor once.” He deliberately turned his voice husky. “Do you remember?”

He took comfort in the slight catch of her breath, a small smile forming on his lips as Kate clearly struggled to remain composed.

“Memphis,” she finally said, recovering her cool and holding his gaze. “That was a long time ago. And even
you
can’t be so conceited as to think of sex as a favor.”

He studied her for a moment and then he leaned close, inhaling the haunting scent of lavender he’d come to equate with Kate. “Well, it ranked right up there as one of the best nights of my life,” he murmured, and the bitter truth in his teasing words made his smile grow tight. “Right up until I found out you and Dalton were still married.”

G
UILT
.

Kate closed her eyes as her heart strained to keep from crumpling under the weight of the emotion. She’d let the feeling drive her back to a marriage that had begun to die long before the night she’d spent in Memphis’s arms. And then she’d let the emotion keep her stuck in her vow of forever well beyond the point where all hope for a happy-from-here-on-out was gone.

But there was only so much guilt a girl could take before she eventually was either permanently crippled by it or finally declared she was moving on. And the time for that was now, if for no other reason than to save her sanity.

She lifted her lids and said the words that were five years overdue. “I’m sorry.”

Too bad the apology didn’t make her feel any better.

“Sorry?” He tipped his head skeptically, as if vaguely amused by her pitiful words. “For which part? For leaving without saying goodbye? Or for me learning the truth from your brother?”

Her heart stopped. “You called Brian?”

“The very next day,” he said. “And in an attempt to figure out what the hell had just happened, I casually asked him how you were doing.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Imagine my surprise when he said you were having marital problems.”

Heart now doing double time, Kate pressed her lips together and blindly turned to look at the dwindling crowd, but she was determined to keep moving forward. Growing up in the spotlight—with every family problem scrutinized by the public in excruciating detail—had taught her to persevere. Pretending everything was okay wasn’t always the best choice, but sometimes it was the only one you had.

“The first function is this weekend.” She faced Memphis again. “We need to make plans.”

He shot her an incredulous look.

“Part of the deal was I’d help you pick out something suitable to wear,” she went on.

After a brief hesitation, his lips twitched. “I’m sure I can find something appropriate in my closet,” he said, the look in his eyes one of pure entertainment.

At her expense, of course.

Clearly her soundness of mind was taking a brief holiday. After all, she’d convinced Memphis to spend the next month helping her. She was going to need a straitjacket before this was over, mostly to keep from pulling her hair out in frustration.

“You forget,” she said, feigning patience. “I’ve seen your idea of appropriate.”

“Fine,” he said, startling her with his easy agreement. Grateful he’d given in so easily, she let her tensed muscles relax, until he jerked his head in the direction of the street. “Let’s go,” he said.

“Where?”

“To check out my wardrobe.”

“Now?” Her heart sank and the tension returned. She hadn’t even
begun
to recover from seeing him again.

“No time like the present.” He sent her a tiny smile that left her hugely nervous. “You can follow me home and check out the contents of my closet.”

Still questioning her good sense, Kate followed Memphis into the upmarket apartment in an exclusive neighborhood, noting that he was all but ignoring her as she trailed behind him into the kitchen. The lack of attention was a welcome change. He tossed his keys on the kitchen table and turned to lean a hip against the counter, watching her as she assessed what was clearly meant to be temporary living quarters.

In one slow pivot she took in the kitchen and the spartanly furnished living area. A flat-screen TV, a single leather recliner and a side table were the extent of the furniture. No couch. No bookshelves. The walls were painted white, and there were no pictures or mementos to break up the
bland color theme. The apartment was a blank slate waiting for the occupant to fill it with his belongings, bringing a personal touch.

Memphis hadn’t bothered.

“It could do with a little sprucing up,” she said. It was then she noticed several framed photographs on the floor, propped against the wall as if it was too much trouble to hang them in place.

For a moment he looked as if he regretted letting her come to check out his wardrobe. “My needs are simple,” he said.

“I can see you have a love of basic white,” she said dryly.

“Even if I was into interior decorating, which I’m not, I’m not in town long enough to bother,” he said. “It has everything I need: a great location, a refrigerator …” The only movement was a slight tip of the head. “And a bed.”

The silence that followed filled the room, his expression remarkably placid, no overt twinkle in his gaze necessary. The thick, dark eyelashes gave him a sinfully sated look, framing caramel-colored eyes that oozed sex, whether intentional or not.

She knew he’d brought her here to make her uncomfortable, and the sooner she got this over with the sooner she’d get out of his apartment. Her heart was pounding embarrassingly fast, and no matter how many lectures she’d given herself as she’d followed him here, it was hard not to remember the last time they’d been alone together
in an apartment. Completing her task and getting out of his home suddenly became a top priority.

But clothes meant closets, and closets meant bedrooms, and suddenly her heart stopped and she couldn’t breathe.

Stalling for time to recuperate from his effect on her, she crossed to the living room and picked up one of the pictures. It was of a red convertible Porsche, top back as it sailed off the end of a towering cliff. Like a surfer, Memphis was crouched on the driver seat, his hand on the top of the windshield, body poised to push off.

She wasn’t a fan of action movies, but when the film had been released Kate had gone to see it in the theatre. Alone in the dark, with only her popcorn for company, she’d watched the hero—who, in actuality, had been Memphis—push off from the free-falling car and do a back flip in the air before unfolding into position. Arms pressed to his side, body arrow-straight to decrease wind resistance, he’d aimed for the flatbed truck far, far below. At the last possible second he’d pulled the cord to the chute on his back and targeted the moving semi, landing gracefully on the trailer.

The stunt had brought back all the turbulent emotions Memphis had elicited as a teen, the larger-than-life adolescent constantly goading her into feelings that were too messy to handle. Exasperation. Danger. And a whole lot of electric chemistry that had short-circuited her ability to function when he was near. Back then, Dalton had made her feel safe.

But the only reason she’d been watching Memphis’s stunt on screen was because her husband had backed out on his date night with her. Just another one of many nights she’d spent by herself, achingly lonely because Dalton had been buried in his studies at law school. Not the happy marriage she’d envisioned when he’d proposed. But how could she fault him for fulfilling the dreams she had staunchly supported from the beginning? So she’d headed to the theatre alone. At the last second, she chose Memphis’s latest movie instead of the indie film she’d planned.

And she’d spent the rest of the night with vivid dreams, relieving the adolescent angst and the clashing attraction she’d worked so hard to keep under wraps.

Memphis’s voice came from behind. “That was my first big film.”

Disturbed by his nearness, she gripped the picture frame. “How did you get your start?”

“BASE jumping.”

Ignoring the heat from his body, she kept her gaze on the photo. “I never understood the appeal the sport held for you and Brian. Is skydiving from an airplane too tame?”

“A bit too regimented for my taste. Where’s the illicit fun in that?”

“Illegal or not, I’m not sure there is any fun to be had while free-falling toward earth,” she said, and finally turned her face to brave a look at him. “But I don’t understand how BASE jumping led to your career.”

“The second unit director of my first paid stunt, a low-budget film, just happened to be wandering by when I jumped from an antennae tower in Hollywood. A friend had to give him my name because, when I landed, I was too busy running from the security guard.”

She lifted a brow. “The authorities don’t look too kindly on people trespassing.”

“Like I said, it’s no fun unless there is an element of danger.”

“Yes,” she said with barely restrained sarcasm. “Because plummeting toward earth at high rates of speed isn’t dangerous enough.”

He stepped around her, leaning his back against the wall, the indolent pose made all the more sensual by the lean muscle in his arms and in the thighs beneath his jeans. “There is a crazy system in the stunt business. You have to be ballsy, but not
too
ballsy. Four out of five and you’re crazy enough to do anything required to get the job done. When you hit five …” He lifted a shoulder and stared at her with a trace of amusement. “When you get to five you’re just too crazy to deal with on the set.”

Crazy
sounded right.

Kate tipped her head. “Which one are you?”

His trace of a grin grew bigger. “Depends on who you ask.”

Chaos. Disarray. Memphis’s life had always been notably fraught with disorder, not to mention danger. It was just one of many reasons why Kate’s parents had forbidden her brother from
being his friend. Not that Brian had ever followed the rules, either.

Avoiding his gaze, she ran a hand along the smooth edge of the picture frame, fighting back the memories of a passion the likes of which she had never known before nor experienced since. The messy, chaotically electric feelings overwhelmed her in every sense of the word. Their exhilarating night had marked the midway point in her bleak, eight-year marriage, leaving Kate more alive in that moment than in the four years preceding or the four years after.

“How long will you be around?” she said. She hoped the question came out as simple civil conversation instead of real curiosity.

“As short a time as humanly possible.”

For some reason, his response bothered her, and she lifted her gaze to meet his. “Are you in that much of a hurry to leave?”

Memphis let out a sharp bark of a humorless laugh. “As far as I’m concerned, there aren’t enough stunts like the one I did today. I took the job despite the fact it meant returning to Miami.”

“I heard your parents moved.”

“I bought them a place in California several years ago, so there’s nothing left for me here.”

She ignored the obvious fact that Brian lived here. That Kate Anderson didn’t factor into his equation was no surprise.

“Where is home now?” she said.

“Wherever my next big gag is scheduled to take place.”

“Gag?” she asked, confused by the unfamiliar term.

“Stunt,” he clarified.

“Do you plan to keep up this nomadic existence forever?” She narrowed her eyes doubtfully. “And just what is your long-term career goal, outside of being labeled the man who never says no to leaping off tall buildings?”

“To be the best damn high-fall stuntman in Hollywood.”

She studied him for a moment. “And when does that happen?”

He stared at her, and, although his posture was relaxed, uncaring, the intensity in his eyes gave him away. “When everyone knows my name,” he said, as if the simple statement justified his insane job.

Before she could ask any more questions, he nodded in the direction of the hallway. “If you want to check out my clothes you’ll have to go to my closet,” he said, sending her belly BASE jumping for her toes, those sinfully sexy eyes far too steady on hers. “My bedroom is at the end of the hallway.”

The mood grew strained as Memphis followed Kate down the corridor. His chest grew tight, a potent mix of desire, tension and a touch of self-directed frustration snaking around his rib cage. His bedroom was just as barren as the living area, except for the king-size bed that was
currently commanding center stage like a mocking reminder of their past.

He’d sworn off touching Kate again, but right now her delicate scent was filling every corner of the room where he slept. And suddenly, her presence in his personal space made him uncomfortably aware his vow of keeping his hands to himself might be harder to pull off than he’d thought.

“Everything is in the closet,” he said.

Kate looked around the almost empty room. “You don’t have a dresser?”

“The rental apartment didn’t come with one.”

She shot him a look. “And you couldn’t be bothered with buying a few pieces of furniture?”

“What would be the point? I arranged only for what I absolutely needed because I’m not going to be around long enough for it to matter.”

He had no intention of discussing just how hard he’d grappled with the decision to return to his hometown. It was the only place his reputation as a high-fall stuntman was ever called into question. Granted, his mistake had been five years ago, and had taken place during a prank. But still …

The five-year-old ache of regret resurfaced and he pushed it aside, refusing to dwell on the role this woman had played in that moment, as well.

And if he had to spend the next month attending one pretentious social function after another, he might as well indulge in his favorite pastime from his teens: provoking Kate, if for no other
reason than to arouse some kind of emotion from her. And it had nothing to do with caring why she kept herself so carefully contained.

Not only was he done touching Kate, he was done wondering why she tried so hard to keep her emotions encased in ice.

She opened the doors to the walk-in closet, staring inside, and Memphis bit back the urge to smile as a look of dismay slowly spread across her face.

The jeans and shirts on the shelves were haphazardly arranged—okay, “hastily dumped” was probably a better description. And he had better clothes at home, but why cart them along for a month’s worth of work?

Kate finally turned a doubtful face to Memphis.

He gave an easy shrug, amused by her expression. “I travel light.”

Her lips quirked at the understatement. “There must be something usable in here.”

“Nothing that will fit the Anderson norm, for sure,” he said with a hint of humor, running his gaze down her form.

Although her sundress was simple and modest, nothing come-hither about it, the dress also reeked of wealth and privilege. As always, she was meticulously put together. And the exposed creamy skin of her shoulders was tempting him to take a taste.