A Seductive Kiss Read online

  She could count on one hand the number of times in the past year she had spent more than thirty minutes at a time with Alex. One or the other, usually her, was always busy. But she always made a point of calling him whenever she was in town.

  The elevator opened and they stepped off. “Your schedule is just as hectic as mine,” she said as they crossed the immense lobby. Overhead, huge Waterford crystal chandeliers glittered.

  “How does noon at Le Cirque sound?” he asked as they went through the revolving door and outside. “Taxi, please,” he told the doorman.

  Le Cirque was usually booked days in advance. “You’re going to ditch a client?” she asked.

  “Not necessary,” he smiled, showing dimples that made him look like an adorable little boy. “You forget. I know people.”

  She had forgotten, probably because, unlike a lot of people she associated with, Alex wasn’t a show-off. He was one of those self-assured men who were comfortable with who they were. He didn’t have to prove anything to anyone.

  He came from a very wealthy and influential family. His father was a successful third-generation banker. His mother was a renowned California senator. His younger sister, Catherine, was a well-respected child psychologist, a past professor at Stanford, and a New York Times best-selling children’s author. If that wasn’t enough, her husband Luke’s cousin, Daniel Falcon, was enormously wealthy, and Luke’s baby sister was married to real estate billionaire Blade Navarone.

  But Alex wasn’t a man to trade on the wealth and fame of others. He didn’t have to. He was wealthy and respected in his own right. Unlike her father, Alex didn’t use his power for his own selfish gain, and thus, when he sought people’s help, they responded favorably.

  The cab pulled up to the curb in front of them. She stole another look at Alex. Her heart made that crazy knock in her chest again. There wasn’t a shred of doubt in her mind that he’d fulfill her every sexual fantasy and then some.

  But was a brief, hot affair worth losing his friendship? “Why don’t I take a rain check and get back to you after I’ve had a chance to rest?”

  She easily read the disappointment on his face. She masked her own disappointment. She liked being with him.

  “All right. You have my numbers if you change your mind.” He opened the taxi’s rear door and waited until she was seated. “’Night. Don’t forget to take some fluids before you go to bed.”

  She smiled. Alex was one of a kind. It would be difficult if not impossible to find another man who excited her like he did, and who always thought of her well-being. “I won’t. Good night, Alex.”

  Shutting the door, he straightened. The cab pulled off. Through the rear window Dianne watched Alex, gorgeous and elegant, until traffic obscured him. She wondered if she had enough courage to proposition her best friend’s brother to be her lover.

  Chapter 2

  After a restless night, Dianne decided to take Alex from the top of her list. For all she knew, her body’s unusual reaction to his was an anomaly. What she needed to do was go out with a few other men and see if it happened again.

  With that thought in mind, she took a seat on the curved white leather sofa in the spacious living area of her apartment and spread out the business cards she’d collected on her last trip to New York three months before. It had only been for a weekend to attend a charity dinner for Helping Hands, a nonprofit organization she and her grandfather supported.

  She’d gone by herself and had been swamped with men wanting to take her out. She’d refused all of them. With her grandfather gone only a month, she’d felt even less like dating than usual.

  Now, with the bright morning sun streaming through the windows behind her and one leg tucked beneath her hips, Dianne leaned over to study the nine cards spread out on the glass-topped coffee table. The room, done completely in white with splashes of red and green, was restful, but although she’d lived there for three years she still didn’t feel as if it was home. Then again, no place ever had, not even while she’d lived with her grandfather.

  She took a sip of her spring water with a twist of lime. Orange juice or a smoothie would have tasted better and perhaps appeased the gnawing hunger, but she had less than two weeks to lose ten pounds. She’d tried to pinch an inch at her waist that morning while in the shower and thankfully couldn’t.

  No matter. René, the exacting head designer at Harrington’s Paris headquarters, had a screaming fit when she’d gone in on Friday to try on the clothes for the new winter line. He’d adamantly refused to even let her see the clothes, declaring they wouldn’t fit, and ordered her to lose ten pounds before he saw her again. Since she loved food, losing ten pounds in such a short amount of time was going to be a challenge.

  But she’d faced challenges before—like the one at hand.

  Placing the glass on a leather coaster, she brought her mind back to the current situation, selecting a man to see if he could make her skin tingle and her heart race. If so, she’d consider him to be The One.

  Studying the business cards, she moved two aside. One was another model. The second belonged to an agent who represented several models. She demanded discretion, and that meant she didn’t want anyone remotely associated with the fashion industry. Despite modeling all over the world, being in front of the camera, and doing countless TV shows and interviews, she remained a very private person.

  Another card joined the two. She recalled that the banker had had a faint circular line on his ring finger. He might have been recently divorced, but she wasn’t taking the chance.

  Six cards were left. She tried to recall what the six men looked like, got faint images, but they kept slipping away and Alex would stand there, looking good enough to make her sigh and squirm.

  “Concentrate, Dianne.” She picked up a card, reached for the phone, and dialed. She’d never asked a man out on a date or propositioned one. She figured once they knew who she was, they’d take over.

  “Hello.”

  Dianne came upright at the sound of the woman’s voice. She looked at the card. “I’m sorry. I must have dialed incorrectly.”

  “What number did you dial?”

  Dianne didn’t see what difference that made, but repeated the number, ending by saying, “I’m sorry. I was looking for Isaac.”

  A string of curses singed Dianne’s ear. “That lying, cheating bastard. I knew if I had his cell phone he’d trip himself up. Isaac’s my man and—”

  “Sorry. Good-bye.” Dianne quickly hung up, leaned back against the back of the sofa, then came upright when she remembered caller ID. She slumped back again. Her number was blocked. Isaac was certainly in for it when he saw that woman again, but if she thought he was cheating and still calling him her man, he would probably talk his way out of it.

  Alex would never cheat on her. Concentrate. Alex is not in the equation.

  Briefly closing her eyes, Dianne picked up another card. Surely a Wall Street broker was honest. She thought of all the recent insider-trading scandals and almost put his card back. She didn’t because she’d heard so many horrific lies about models sleeping around and doing drugs. She dialed the number.

  “Reginald Hall. Can I help you?”

  His voice didn’t do anything for her, but perhaps when she saw him she’d get that tingling sensation she’d felt last night looking at Alex. “Mr. Hall, Reginald, this is Dianne Harrington.” When she paused and he didn’t say anything, she became a bit unsure and continued. “We met at the Helping Hands charity dinner. You asked me out.”

  He chuckled. “Sorry, sweetheart. You’re too late. I got engaged last weekend.”

  She stunk at finding a man. “I’m sorry to trouble you. Please accept my best wishes for a long and happy marriage.”

  “She’s a Butler of the Southampton Butlers. My future and happiness are assured. Good-bye.”

  Frowning, Dianne hung up again. He’d sounded as if, because the bride’s family was extremely wealthy, his happiness was a foregone conclusion. He
hadn’t even mentioned the bride’s happiness. Obviously, he was thinking of money and not his bride. Sad.

  Dianne frowned at the four remaining cards, shoved them with the blunt tip of her lacquered pink nails, and contemplated which one to call next. Businessman, real estate executive, lawyer, marketing executive.

  The phone on the end table rang, causing her to jump. What if the angry wife or girlfriend had somehow managed to get her phone number? Cautiously, Dianne peered over the rounded arm of the sofa to look at the caller ID: JENKINS AND HOPKINS LAW FIRM. Alex. For some odd reason she felt guilty, as if she had somehow betrayed him.

  She chewed on her bottom lip, considered letting the call go to voice mail. If she did that, he’d worry. Slowly, she picked up the receiver. “Hello,” she said, her voice coming out a bit breathless.

  “Dianne. Did I catch you at a bad time?” Alex asked.

  “No. No.” She rushed to reassure him. “I’m fine. Just going over some things.”

  “That’s why I called. To check on you,” he explained. “How did you sleep?”

  “Fine,” she lied, reasoning it wouldn’t do any good to tell him that thoughts of him, either locked in a passionate embrace or avoiding her after their affair ended badly, had kept her up most of the night.

  “You don’t sound fine,” Alex said. “I just wanted you to know that if you change your mind about lunch today, we still have a table, but maybe you should take it easy. Perhaps we could go out tomorrow.”

  If only she could take the chance. Dianne glanced at the business cards. “My plans are kind of fluid.”

  “I understand. I better let you get some rest. Bye.” His voice lost some of the brightness she’d become so accustomed to hearing.

  “Bye, Alex, and thanks for calling.” She hung up and reached for the card of the lawyer. Perhaps if she couldn’t have one, she could be content with another.

  * * *

  Alex hung up and tried to keep the picture of Dianne in bed with another man at bay. He couldn’t. She’d sounded breathless, nervous. Usually when they talked there was no hesitation, as there had been just now.

  Unable to sit, he rose from his desk to stare out the window behind him. He’d had a corner office for the two past years, and usually enjoyed the view of Manhattan. Not today. He was too stricken with images that twisted his gut.

  Perhaps he should have made his move long ago. He hadn’t because he knew she thought of him as the big brother of her best friend, and as someone she could talk to when things became tough. She needed that given her worthless parents. Blowing out a breath, he took his seat and pulled a client’s file in front of him.

  He’d learned early there was no sense living in the past or thinking about what might have been. You took your best shot at life, gave it your all. He only had to look at the picture of his parents with Catherine and him on his first day at the law firm to reaffirm that notion. They’d flown up to surprise him. The picture in a crystal frame arrived a week later. It had been their way of telling him they would always be there for him no matter how far away he might be, but also that life wasn’t always easy.

  His mother and sister had fought discrimination every step of their professional career climb. They’d never complained; as they’d both said, what good would it have done. They’d simply shown those who didn’t believe they were capable of being a US senator for California or a professor of psychology at Stanford that they were wrong.

  The phone on his desk rang. He punched the intercom. “Yes, Alice.”

  “Mr. Sinclair is here.”

  “Send him in.” Alex came to his feet just as Payton “Sin” Sinclair came through the door. Six foot three of lean, conditioned muscles, Sin wore his usual grin. Dressed in a Tom Ford single-button gray suit, he looked like the successful businessman he was. But he was just as much at ease in jeans and worn cowboy boots. The problems of life seldom got to Sin. His comment was that it wasted time and solved nothing. “Sin, how many millions did you make today?”

  Deep, roguish laughter erupted as ebony eyes danced with mischief. “It’s only half past nine.”

  “And you work sixteen-hour days,” Alex said. Sin was a sports consultant, and the best in the business. When companies wanted to align themselves with sports figures and owners, the go-to man was Sinclair. He had the boundless energy of a two-year-old and the tenacity of a pit bull. He was outrageously creative and street-smart.

  “Sleeping, I might miss something,” Sin came back.

  Since Alex worked long hours as well, he understood Sin’s strong work ethic. Waving his friend to a seat in front of his desk, Alex leaned against it and crossed his arms. “How long will you be in town this time?” he asked. Sin had an eighty-person agency with offices in Dallas, Chicago, Charlotte, Phoenix, and Los Angeles.

  “A couple of weeks. I’m working a deal.”

  “When aren’t you working a deal?”

  A devilish grin flashed across his handsome, bearded face. “And you and C. J. benefit with tickets to the top sports events in the city,” Sin reminded Alex. “Baseball season is soon winding down and football is gearing up. We’d miss you.”

  Alex barely kept from wincing. He might not go out much, but he loved sports. “You know how to make a point.”

  “So I’ve been told. We’re still on for our monthly pool game Friday?” Sin leaned back in the chair, linked his slim fingers over his flat stomach, and crossed his long legs.

  Alex hesitated, thought of Dianne, and took a seat behind his desk. “I’m not sure. I might be busy.”

  Sin’s eyes narrowed. Slowly, he came upright. “Your business calendar is always three weeks out. It must be personal. Who is she? Is she beautiful?”

  “No one you’d know,” Alex said. Sin wasn’t Sinclair’s nickname for nothing.

  “Possessive, not a good sign,” Sin teased, punctuating his words with a firm shake of his head. “You’re too young to be tied down to one woman.”

  If only. “We’re just friends.”

  Sin blew out an impatient breath. “If I had a dollar every time I’ve heard a man say those words, I could retire early.”

  “You tried that five years ago after you sold your online marketing firm. You became bored within two months,” Alex said, relieved to have a chance to change the subject. “Now you’re king of consulting in the sports world.”

  “What can I say, I like challenges. Speaking of which, I finally cinched the deal with Cameron McBride for Umps energy drink. The contracts will arrive by messenger this morning for you to look over.”

  “I’ll have my secretary watch for them.”

  “Good.” Sin came to his feet and glanced at his platinum watch with six time zones. “One more thing. From personal experience, teaching a woman to play pool can be a satisfying experience.”

  The image that jumped into Alex’s mind—standing behind Dianne, her hips pressed against him as he bent over her—was titillating, but it would never happen. “Talk to you later, Sin.”

  “I can take a hint.” Sin went to the door. “One thing I learned in this business that you might want to consider: If you don’t get into the game, you can’t win. Bye.”

  * * *

  Alex was not the impulsive type. He thought things through and always went with what was safe, responsible. So why was he getting out of a cab in front of Dianne’s apartment building instead of his?

  Good question. If only he had a good answer.

  He stepped onto the sidewalk. He’d tried to talk himself out of coming here, but he’d been unable to. Sin was right. If Alex didn’t at least try to see if Dianne was attracted to him, he had no one to blame except himself if she ended up with another man. The buzz he’d gotten last night when he touched her was expected; her response wasn’t.

  They’d been together hundreds of time, touched a thousand times, but last night it had been different. She must have felt it.

  If he hadn’t gotten those sexual vibrations, he would be at home goin
g over Sin’s contracts, which he hadn’t been able to finish at work. He often took work home. He wasn’t much for going out. It was another strike against things working out between him and Dianne. She liked going out. The last weekend she’d been in town, she hadn’t been home one night.

  He stared up at the towering apartment complex whose prices started at three million and rose sharply from there. He shouldn’t be here, but he didn’t seem to be able to stay away. He made his feet move to the glass-and-brass door.

  “Good evening, sir.” Tipping his hat-covered head, the doorman opened the door.

  “Evening,” Alex said and entered the fashionable lobby with large framed and signed art, modern furniture groupings, and potted plants. He headed for the elevators and pushed the button for twenty-two. And waited. When he saw her he’d—

  The elevator doors slid open. His thoughts slammed to a halt.

  “Alex. What a surprise,” Truss Martin said, a wide smile on his too-handsome face.

  With difficulty Alex dragged his gaze from Dianne, who was looking beautiful and tempting in a short ice-blue evening dress, to Truss, a lawyer and fellow Racquetball Club member. Truss was a hard-nosed corporate attorney with a bit of a reputation as a ladies’ man.

  Alex moved aside for them and other people getting off the elevator, and hoped his lawyer face was firmly in place. “Hello, Truss. Dianne.”

  “Hello, Alex,” Dianne finally murmured. Her gaze kept slipping away from his face.

  Truss frowned, looking from one to the other. “I guess you two know each other.”

  The question of how well hung in the air. “Dianne is my sister’s best friend. I just came by to see how she was feeling. Obviously, it wasn’t necessary.”

  Dianne jerked her head up, her gaze narrowed. Had he been accusatory?

  He probably shouldn’t care, but facing the reality of Dianne with someone else was a kick in the gut. “Well, good night, and have a great time.”

  * * *

  Dianne wanted to go after Alex. Explain somehow. But what could she say? I wanted to see if another man could turn me on the way you did?