Moonstruck

“Jake Powers. He owns the company Joe works for.” She gave Joe’s arm a squeeze. “He’s just invited Joe to be a partner.”

“That’s great,” Claire said, even while a mean little side of her wondered if that was why Joe had dumped her—so he could date Bonita and get closer to Daddy. Or maybe Claire had just grown up in a political family, and saw those kind of machinations everywhere she looked.

“You’ll come, right?”

“When is it?” Ty asked.

“Tomorrow. It’s our annual New Year’s Day client-appreciation bash at the Starr Resort. It’s very casual. Come and go.”

The idea of a party—with Joe—was really not on Claire’s top-ten list of things to do on the first day of a new year. “I really don’t think—”

“It’s going to be fabulous,” Bonita said. “Several of your breed, too. We’ve just signed with Daniels and Taylor to do some television spots,” she added, referring to the law firm that Claire’s father had helped found. “And I know at least five representatives from the local Bar Association are coming, along with dozens and dozens of attorneys. You never know who you might meet.”

Claire lifted a brow. “And you don’t work there?”

“Me? Lord, no. But I keep an eye out for the men in my life.” Her smile widened. “Now come on, you two. It’s not as if you have to stay all day.”

Claire hesitated, balancing the possibility of networking against the reality of being at a party with Joe. In the end, networking won out. How could it not? An appellate lawyer’s clients were other lawyers. And it was never too early to start honing those connections.

Beside her, Ty slid his arm around her waist, the contact making Claire tremble with the anticipation of getting them alone again. More than that, of getting the man himself for a whole day tomorrow. But as that thought entered her head, Claire knew she was being ridiculous. For one thing, a hot kiss on New Year’s Eve didn’t necessarily translate into a wild night—or a well-mannered daytime date. And that was probably especially true with a man like Ty Coleman. Claire didn’t regularly pay attention to celebrity-type gossip, but she’d seen enough to know that Ty was the kind of guy who had a different girl on his arm in every picture that was snapped.

Maybe he wanted a night with her—and, yes, she sure as hell hoped he did—but the odds that he wanted it to continue into anything beyond that were absolutely beyond slim.

It was an utterly depressing thought, all the more so when she realized that she really couldn’t go to the party without him. Because it wasn’t her that Joe was interested in. Not personally, and not with regard to his PR campaign. Which meant that she’d feel like a total idiot going to this party if Ty didn’t go with her. And considering she’d just met the guy, really, what were the chances of that?

“The truth is, I’d love to,” Claire said, deciding to take the easy, polite way out. “But I’m afraid I have plans tomorrow.”

“We had plans,” Ty said, in a voice that had her conjuring all sorts of fantasies. He slid his arm around her waist, and she about melted on the spot. “But don’t you remember?” he added, his mouth dangerously close to her ear. “We ended up canceling. Our schedule is wide-open tomorrow.”

She looked at him with surprise and optimism, and caught the quick wink that he sent her, along with a mischievous quirk of his mouth. Then he turned back to face Joe and Bonita, his smile bright. “Thanks so much for the invitation. We’d love to come.”

3

“NOT THAT I’M UNHAPPY with the outcome, but what if I’d really had plans?” They were sitting at the bar, and Ty had his hand on her knee, his fingers just barely under the hem of her skirt. Ostensibly casual, but the effect was anything but, and Claire was having a hard time concentrating, much less breathing.

“Did you have plans?”

“Well, I was supposed to go to the hospital and donate a kidney, but I guess I won’t be doing that anymore.”

He leaned closer, then pressed his hand flat against her lower belly. “Anyone would be lucky to get your kidney.” His words were teasing, but she didn’t smile. How could she when she could barely think. Her whole body was tense. His touch, his smell, even the soft sound of his breath was absolutely driving her crazy, and it was taking every ounce of effort not to close her hand over his on her belly and move it up to her breast, then slide his hand on her thigh up, up to where she really wanted to feel it.

Oh, dear Lord, she wanted to feel it. Him. His hands all over her. And right then, the biggest question on her mind was why, why, why were they still sitting in that bar?

He lifted his hand from her stomach, and she managed to breathe again. He signaled for the bartender to bring them another round, then he took her hand in his. “I thought I was doing you a favor. Did I assume wrong?”

She licked her lips. “I was that obvious?”

“I’ve learned to watch people. I spend a lot of time negotiating. People don’t usually say what they’re thinking.”

“What was I thinking?” She wondered if he could tell that she’d been fantasizing about a day with him and, yes, she wondered if he wanted that, too.

“You were thinking the party sounded like an opportunity.”

“It is.” She sounded defensive, and she tried to tone it back. “I mean, I’ve been working for a judge for a while now. Great experience, great credentials, but I need to make my own contacts. I’m moving into private practice this summer.”

“No need to justify yourself to me. I’m a man who survived and thrived chasing opportunities.”

She tried to remember what she’d heard about him. She’d seen his name before when she turned on various celebrity gossip shows, and those types of programs seemed to be all over the television lately. And every once in a while she saw a reference on a blog. She didn’t tend to follow that kind of stuff, so the fact that she’d even once bounced up against his name suggested that he really was tabloid fodder, and if Joe was chasing after him, then Ty’s clubs must be some of the hottest around.

“Well, I appreciate it. It was you they really want to come, not me.” She frowned. “Frankly, I’m surprised Joe didn’t make more of an effort to keep me from coming.” She frowned, wondering if she should say something to Bonita when she saw her the next day, then decided it depended on whether Joe had already started dating Bonita when he’d made his pass at her. She’d have to find out.

“You’re looking pensive,” he said, picking up the scotch that the bartender had set in front of him and taking a sip. “Want to share?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. “I really don’t, and yet here I am running my mouth off with you.”

He dragged the tip of his finger along the edge of his glass, making it wet with condensation. Then he drew his fingertip slowly over her lips. “I happen to like your mouth,” he said in a tone that really should only be used in bed while naked.

She closed her eyes, soaking up the sound of his voice, then drew his finger in, tasting him, a hint of scotch, a dash of musk and one-hundred percent male.

She heard a little moan and realized it was coming from her.

She opened her eyes and saw that he was smiling at her, the heat in his eyes unmistakeable. To her surprise, she didn’t feel embarrassed. Instead, she felt sexy. Strong. “I think you’re making me a little crazy.”

“Maybe it’s the champagne,” he said.

She shook her head. “The champagne may account for some of the courage, but it’s the man who’s making me—”

“Yes?”

Wet. “Itchy.”

“Maybe I can help you scratch the itch.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “I really wish you would.”

His smile was practically edible, and as he leaned in, she knew she wanted to taste it. Wanted to consume it, and when his lips brushed hers, she slid hungrily into the kiss, lips only at first, then leaning closer, her arm hooking around his neck as she lost herself in the wonder that was this man. This heat.

The rough sound of a clearing throat caught their attention, and Ty pulled away, breaking the kiss slowly and then, Claire was glad to see, looking at their interloper with an expression that suggested the interruption better be worth it.

The culprit was a girl, probably in her early twenties, wearing a tight Decadent T-shirt, and from the way she was grinning, she felt not the slightest bit of remorse for interrupting. As if Claire was just another girl, and this was just another night with clubster Ty Coleman.

Well, that’s probably true. Is that a problem?

He leaned in and kissed her hard enough to make her melt, then met and held her eyes, his hot enough to melt steel.

Nope, she thought. No problem at all.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sliding off the stool, his hand sliding along her thigh as he moved, and sending a shiver down her spine and shooting a promise between her legs. “I need to go run over a few closing details with Fred. Wait for me?”