Authors: Beverly Havlir
Taylor flushed. She knew exactly what he was referring to.
Sorry,
busy tonight. I’m going out.
She jumped when her office phone rang seconds later. “This
is Taylor.”
“You have a date tonight?” Cooper asked without preamble.
Ruthlessly squelching the butterflies suddenly having a
party in her tummy, she answered in a level tone, “Hello to you too.”
“Did you forget what happened between us the other night?”
How could she forget? That had been the most intense, most
exciting moment she’d had in a year. She’d nearly come, for heaven’s sake. And
in record time too. It had been embarrassingly easy for him to arouse her.
She swiveled her chair around to face the window. Even over
the phone, the man had the power to unnerve her. “I signed up with an online
dating site. It’s research for a future article.” It was the truth, of course.
She was planning an article on internet dating sites, and tonight was her first
“date”.
“We agreed that you can interview me at a time and place of
my choosing. I choose tonight.”
“Not fair.”
A low chuckle rang in her ear. “No.”
This interview was going to be the death of her. She was
never going to know peace until this was over with. No peace of mind. No peace
for her body either.
“Fine. When and where do I meet you?”
“I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“Wait, you don’t know where I live—” But he’d already hung
up. Taylor stared at the receiver in her hand and with disgust, slammed it back
in its housing. He didn’t even bother to ask for her address, which meant he already
knew where she lived. Really. The man had some nerve. He didn’t even say where
they were going. How was she supposed to know what to wear?
Chewing on her lip, she fired off an email canceling the
date she’d arranged for tonight. Frustrated, she stood up and hurried across
the hall to Emily’s office. “I’m in trouble.”
With her characteristic patience, Emily looked up from her
computer. “What’s up?”
“I’m meeting Cooper for dinner tonight.”
“And that’s bad because…”
She threw up her hands. “How do I resist him? Every time he
comes within ten feet of me, I get these crazy thoughts.”
Emily stood up and walked around the desk to stand next to
her. “Think of the e-zine. And keep your legs closed,” she added with a laugh.
Taylor groaned. “I’m serious, Em. I don’t even know what to
wear.”
“Listen, whatever you wear, I know you’re going to look like
a knockout. You always do. And you have a ton of clothes and shoes to choose
from,” she ended dryly.
“How do I know what to wear if I don’t know where we’re
going?”
“Then wear something that will fit in anywhere.”
“Why are you always so rational?”
“Because when it comes to Cooper, your brain turns to mush.”
“See? You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Emily laughed. “You need to knock his socks off.”
“I should,” she agreed slowly. Dressing up would give her
the self-confidence to deal with him without turning into a blubbering,
stammering idiot. And no more kissing. “Definitely no kissing,” she muttered to
herself.
“What did you say?” When she didn’t answer, Emily’s eyes
narrowed with suspicion. “Taylor Marie Sanders. What are you not telling me?”
“Okay, okay. We sort of kissed,” she admitted under her
breath.
“Kissed?” Emily repeated.
“All right. We…we made out. There. I said it.”
Emily sputtered. “Made out? When? Why wasn’t I aware that
this happened?” She sat down and patted the space beside her. “Spill it.”
After a momentary hesitation, Taylor confessed, glossing
over the racy details of her encounter with Cooper. When she finished, Emily
gaped at her before bursting into delighted laughter. “He wants to be your
friend with benefits? Oh Tay, you’re in deep trouble.”
“Don’t I know it,” she muttered. “We have nothing in common,
Em.”
“Except you both have the hots for each other, which is the
most important thing in this whole friends-with-benefits thing anyway.”
“But don’t you see? It’s too strong…too…overwhelming.”
Emily took her hands and held them. “Listen to me and listen
well. If the situation was reversed, you would be the first to tell me to go
for it. This is too good to pass up. Go for it.”
“I can’t. Not until I finish this article. There can’t be
any hint of impropriety attached to it. I’ve got to be objective and rational.”
“Is the article that important?”
Taylor frowned. “Yes, it’s a major coup for the e-zine. Our
readers would love it, not to mention it will attract new subscribers. Don’t
you think so?”
“It would be nice to feature an article about Cooper, but I
don’t think it’s the most important thing we’re talking about here. The e-zine
won’t suffer if we don’t push through with the article,” she said quietly. “If
we have to, we can always shelve it. Put it off for the next month. Or later on
in the year.”
She bit her lip. “You’re right, of course. It’s just a
feature article, after all.”
“One we can replace with some other feature. We both know
that no other reporter will scoop you with Cooper. He won’t grant an interview
to any other publication.” She smiled. “I think we have that advantage at
least.”
Emily was right. Cooper wasn’t likely to agree to an interview
with anyone else.
“Is that really what’s stopping you, people talking about
you and Cooper?”
Her shoulders slumped. “Even if I throw caution to the wind,
I know it won’t last. He’s not exactly known for long-lasting relationships.”
“Do you want a relationship with Cooper?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted, miserable. “I don’t know what
I want. I’m so confused by this whole thing.”
Emily smiled. “Ever since I’ve known you, I’ve never seen
you act this way over a man. Between you and me, you were the one who dealt so
confidently with men. This is new to me.”
“You and me both.”
“The Taylor I know wouldn’t be scared. Why not enjoy it for
what it is and not overthink things? And when it’s over, it’s—”
“Over,” Taylor finished.
“The question is, are you brave enough to go after what you
want?”
Taylor perused the clothes hanging inside her closet. She
bit her lip, dismissing one after another. “Too slutty,” she muttered as she
examined a gold dress with a sheer top and a too-short skirt that barely
covered her butt. “What was I thinking?”
She moved on to the next one. “Boring.” With impatience, she
flicked through the garments and groaned in frustration. She had nothing to
wear. This was impossible. She glanced at her bed, already piled high with outfits
she’d decided against, and sent a despairing peek at the clock. She’d have to
get ready soon or Cooper would be on her doorstep. And she’d bet her right arm
that he was the punctual type. “Damn, damn, damn. Pick one and stick with it.”
Maybe she should go with black, which was appropriate
anywhere. This was business. She was going to interview him. At the same time,
feminine pride dictated that she looked good. If only to mask the unbalanced,
unsettled feeling that she always felt whenever he was near.
With precious few minutes to spare, she decided on a black
halter with a full, flirty skirt that ended at her knees. She examined her
reflection in the mirror. It struck the right balance. The dress wasn’t
in-your-face sexy, but at the same time, it was flattering. The fitted bodice
wasn’t cut too low and showed the amount of skin she was comfortable with.
She’d washed and dried her hair earlier, and it hung down to
her shoulders. Oh well. It would have to do. If she bothered with her hair, it
was just going to take longer. She put on a minimum of eye makeup and swept
mascara on her lashes, finishing up with lip-gloss. As soon as she capped the
tube, her doorbell rang.
A glance at her watch showed eight o’clock sharp.
Seriously, the man must operate on a strict schedule. With a
huff, she picked up her clutch and checked to make sure her little notebook and
pen were inside.
She sent a quick glance around her living room before she
peered through the peephole. With a deep breath, she pulled open the door. “Hello.”
“Good evening.”
Her smile froze in place. Cooper was always impeccably
attired in tailored suits and silk ties. Tonight he wore a long-sleeved
button-down shirt paired with jeans. Who knew he even owned a pair?
Feeling overdressed, Taylor lifted her chin. She’d just have
to make the best of the situation.
“Ready?”
She nodded and pulled the door closed behind her. She was
acutely conscious of the warmth of his palm on her back as he escorted her to
his car. He opened the door and saw her inside like a perfect gentleman. Score
one for Cooper. Taylor had been on dates where the guy didn’t even bother to
hold the door open for her.
Cooper navigated the evening traffic with ease. Soft, jazzy
music played in the background. It wasn’t something she would ordinarily listen
to, but was pleasant and easy on the ears. It helped to at least calm her
nerves. She glanced out the window and realized they were heading toward Beacon
Hill.
“May I ask where we’re going?”
“You may.”
She looked at him and waited expectantly. When he didn’t
volunteer any more information, she asked, “So where are we going?”
“Dinner.”
She gritted her teeth. “Is it a secret?”
He chuckled. “Scared?”
“No. I just feel a tad overdressed.”
Cooper stopped at a red light and turned to her. The look he
gave her sent heat spiraling through her body to coalesce at that spot between
her legs. “You look beautiful.”
Just like that, her pulse went into overdrive. She couldn’t
look away and sat utterly still until he broke the spell when the light
changed. Releasing the breath she hadn’t been aware of holding, she gazed out
the window, blind to the passing scenery. What did one say to that? She should
have smiled and murmured thanks, acted cool, calm and collected. Instead she’d
been tongue-tied. God help her.
Taylor kept her face averted resolutely. No more locking
eyes with him. He was absolutely dangerous. She needed to get her emotions on
an even keel if she was going to conduct this interview with a modicum of
sanity.
Cooper halted in front of a large, three-story residence in
the pricey Flat-of-the-Hill section of Beacon Hill. With a flick of a button,
metal doors rolled up to reveal the private basement-level garage of the
brick-front structure.
“You live here?”
“Yes.”
“I thought we were going somewhere public, like a
restaurant,” she remarked, striving for a normal tone. Somehow the thought that
the notoriously private Cooper Hathaway had taken her to his home was a bit
overwhelming.
“I hope you don’t mind. I’m really not in the mood to sit in
the middle of a restaurant. I prefer a relaxing dinner here.”
Relaxing? Ha!
“Would you rather go somewhere else?” He gave her a
disarming grin. “Although I have to tell you, my housekeeper prepared dinner
and I’d hate to disappoint her.”
God, why did he have to be so charming? “Well, we can’t have
that, can we?” she managed to say through stiff lips.
Please, please let me
get through this without losing what little composure I have.
Dinner at his
home while she interviewed him surely was harmless enough.
The satisfied smile he gave her had alarm bells going off in
her head.
Warning!
But she didn’t have time to dwell on it as he slid
the vehicle to a smooth stop and shut the garage. Parking was a premium in
Beacon Hill, with most street spaces regulated for residents only and requiring
permits. Cooper Hathaway had his own garage, which a quick assessment told her
could fit three cars.
Of course.
He led her through the basement entrance. Taylor glimpsed an
indoor swimming pool at the end of a long hallway before he gestured for her to
precede him up a flight of hardwood stairs. Her skin prickled in awareness as
she walked by him she swallowed the lump that lodged in her throat, trying to
steady her breathing and calm her frayed nerves. She stopped as she emerged in
what appeared to be a formal living room. Large picture windows were currently
covered by heavy drapes, but she could just imagine the immense amount of
sunlight that would stream through them in the daytime. The walls were painted
a light-cream color, offset by some dark pieces of furniture scattered about.
It was impeccably decorated but exuded a warm, homey feel.
“You have a lovely home.”
“I’m glad you like it.” He put a hand on her back and led
her through to another area, which turned out to be a smaller, less formal
living room. “You look surprised.”
“I guess I just imagined you living in a high-rise or
something.” She flushed. “I mean, you know—”
“I like my space. I’ve lived in enough apartments to last me
a lifetime. Drink?”
She was tempted to ask for a shot of something that would
bolster her courage and calm her down, but with her luck, she’d get drunk and
make matters worse. “Wine, please.”
He strode to the bar and poured wine from a decanter. Their
fingers touched briefly when he handed it to her. She murmured her thanks and
took a sip.
A woman showed up under the arched doorway. “Dinner’s
served.”
Cooper nodded. “Thanks, Greta. This is Taylor Sanders.” He
grinned. “She’s here to interview me.”
“Hello,” Taylor smiled.
“Greta and her husband Eamon have been with me for years.
They worked for my mother,” he explained briefly.
Greta smiled. “You write nice things about him now, miss.
He’s a good man.”
With a chuckle, Cooper led Taylor through the doorway and a
small, informal dining room. The round table was set beautifully with two place
settings and an artfully arranged bouquet of flowers flanked by candelabras.
Greta moved ahead of them and went through swinging doors to what Taylor
assumed must be the kitchen. She emerged moments later with plates. Next she
brought out a small bowl of potatoes with steamed vegetables on the side.
“Looks delicious,” Taylor commented as she sat on the chair
Cooper held out for her.
“Cooper prefers to relax at home whenever he gets the
chance,” Greta stated as she stepped back and wiped her hands on her apron. “I
like to cook his favorites.”
Cooper took the chair next to Taylor. “Thank you, Greta. We
can manage here.”
“Are you sure now?”
“Positive. Now enjoy your nightly brandy with Eamon and I’ll
see you tomorrow.”
“Very well. Good night.” She disappeared through the kitchen
door.
With the housekeeper gone, Taylor was acutely aware that she
was alone with Cooper. The setting seemed much too intimate, the round table
afforded little distance between them. Was it her or was he sitting way too
close for comfort?
“Greta and Eamon have an apartment downstairs,” he explained
briefly. “Dig in. She would be very hurt if you didn’t enjoy the food.”
Quelling the nerves attacking her sanity, Taylor cut into
the filet mignon, took a bite and nearly moaned. The meat was tender and
flavorful, with just the right amount of seasoning to complement the natural
taste of beef. She sipped her wine and caught him looking at her. Her heart
skipped a beat. She shifted, fixing her stare on her plate. Had the temperature
suddenly risen? Insidious excitement seeped through her skin and ignited her
nerve endings.
“Greta’s a wonderful cook,” she said, desperately making
light conversation to distract her wayward thoughts. “You’re lucky to have
her.”
“I’m very fortunate, yes.” The huskiness of his tone was in
keeping with the veil of intimacy that surrounded them. Cooper scooped some
potatoes on his fork. “Taste.”
Taylor hesitated. Control was a fragile thing that
threatened to slip from her entirely. She took what he offered and sat back,
murmuring her thanks. The food, the cozy atmosphere, and the warm glint in his
eyes bombarded her senses, battering her defenses. He wasn’t even saying much,
but the silence wasn’t awkward. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t quell the
hot anticipation that hung in the air.
All her efforts to relax were blown to bits when she
glimpsed the hunger in Cooper’s eyes, a look he wasn’t making any effort to
hide.
Cooper stared at Taylor over the rim of his wineglass. The
pale glow from candlelight accented the smoothness of her skin. Her hair, which
she’d left down, looked sexy and tousled. Tonight Taylor had on a black dress
with a skirt that ended at her knees. The neckline showed just a hint of
cleavage and wasn’t in any way revealing. She looked perfectly respectable,
showing no hint of impropriety in her attire. But to him, the picture she made
was sexier than if she had on a skintight get-up that left nothing to the
imagination. She made him want to peel off the dress, slowly revealing what was
underneath. His cock sprang to life under his jeans. Damn. His dick had a mind
of its own whenever Taylor was near. Hard and ready to fuck.
He had her where he’d wanted her for a long, long time.
Here.
Alone.
Even if the reason had to be the damnable article that she
wanted to write about him. He bit back a sigh. Taylor Sanders had been
monopolizing his thoughts and fantasies for the past year, and the fact that
she wasn’t immune to him was a major coup.
“Will you tell me about your mother?” she asked softly.
“She was a wonderful person who died too soon.”
Taylor blinked and took a sip from her glass.
Cooper’s eyes locked on her lips, aching to feel their
softness under his. When a drop of wine lingered on her lower lip, he reached
out and swiped it with his thumb.
She inhaled sharply and drew back.
It felt as soft as he’d remembered. Tonight she’d put
something on that made her lips shiny, emphasizing the pouting fullness. An
image came to mind of her lips wrapped around his cock, taking him in her
mouth, giving him a long, slow suck. He’d fuck her mouth and watch her take all
of him inch by inch. Biting back a groan, he banished the image from his mind.
Everything about Taylor brought up x-rated thoughts.
“Oh-kay. I’m guessing the topic of your mother is off
limits.”
“Ask me something else,” he said gruffly.
“Will you talk about John Callas?”
“He’s a very important person in my life. A mentor.” As well
as other things, he thought to himself. “Tell me about yourself.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I’m interviewing you, not the other
way around.”
“I’ve just decided that it’s only fair that if I’m going to
answer your questions, you should answer mine.”
“I doubt I’m half as interesting as you are.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”
“John Callas was your business mentor?” she pressed.
He nodded. “He gave me a job, started me at the lowest
level. He wanted me to learn how everything worked from the ground up. Tell me
about your family.”
“Divorced parents, living on opposite coasts. You worked for
Mr. Callas while going to school.”
“Yes. Siblings?”
She bit back a sigh and he almost chuckled. “No. I was an
only child. You had a very close relationship with Mr. Callas?”
“Still do. Aegis, Inc. was his company. I worked my way up
and took over when he retired. I grew and diversified the business.” It had
been a great deal more complicated than that, but he didn’t expound on it. He’d
worked his ass off to make Aegis one of the biggest companies in the country.
She fiddled with her fork before putting it back on the
plate. “The gossip magazines delight in featuring your latest arm candy.”
He shrugged. “Pure speculation on their part. It gets old.”
The flickering candlelight highlighted the deep green of her eyes. “I’m
curious, why did you even think of going the friends-with-benefits route?”
A flush spread over her cheeks. “That’s a bit personal,
don’t you think?”