My Sexiest Mistake

“Helene, tell me this is a joke,” Ryan said with slowly dawning horror. “Tell me the man I was with last night was the guy from the agency.”

The silence stretched out.

The blood began roaring in her ears.

“That son of a bitch,” she said slowly. “That goddamned son of a bitch.” Pure fury slammed through her so quickly it took her breath away.

He’d lied to her. He’d let her think he was the gigolo and as a result she’d taken a complete stranger into her bed. Admittedly, she had expected to take a complete stranger into her bed, but it was supposed to be a complete stranger with references. Instead, she’d been shanghaied by Cade Douglas, who was heaven only knew who.

Her imagination painted steadily more frightening pictures. He could have been anyone, she thought with a chill. She was lucky she hadn’t been robbed or worse. Yet he’d turned down her money, so he wasn’t some down-and-out hustler. He was doing it for kicks. It must have been quite the joke to him. She could just imagine him laughing inside the whole time he was scamming her.

She thought of him groaning as he came and the chill flamed back into fury. Oh no, he hadn’t been laughing the whole time. He’d been getting off on it all, playing up his whole little charade. “You’re doing this for the wrong reasons.” “What do you say we meet tomorrow night to close the deal.” Close the deal, indeed, she fumed. It wasn’t enough that he’d played her once. He had the nerve to keep going. Sure, and why not? It was the ultimate male fantasy, sex with no commitment.

“Hey kid, are you okay?” Helene’s voice broke into her thoughts.

She wanted to yell. She wanted to scream. She wanted to hit something, preferably Cade Douglas. No, hitting was too good for him, she thought dizzily. He should be horse-whipped. He should be roasted over a high flame.

“Talk to me, Ryan.”

She unclenched her jaw and forced her face to move. “Sure. I’m fine,” she said tonelessly. “Just surprised.”

“Hey, at least you got some good material for the scene, right?”

“Helene, skip the bright-side stuff. I have to go now.”

“Don’t do anything drastic,” Helene put in hastily.

“I won’t. But if I wind up in jail, bail me out, okay?”

Ryan hung up, waiting for the roaring in her ears to go away. She fumbled in her purse until she found the phone number Cade had given her the night before, she started to dial the digits, then stopped. Her desk clock ticked the seconds away and she sprang up to pace. It wasn’t enough. Reading him the riot act over the phone was not enough to pay him back for what he’d done. For this, she needed to see him in person.

She stopped and stared out the window, remembering the feel of his hands on her, the promise of his naked body. Anger and desire warred in her. Tonight they would be together. No matter who he was, no matter what game he was playing, she couldn’t give up the chance to be with him one more time. If she told him off now, she’d be the loser. She’d gotten her lovers through much of the scene, but was missing the final climactic moments.

Which didn’t matter nearly as much as the fact that she’d be missing the final climactic moments. After all these years without touching anyone, how could she really walk away from finally, completely knowing what it was like? From having him inside her? All she had to do was show up tonight and he would be kissing her, making love with her, taking her to the edge and beyond. Ryan rolled her forehead against the glass.

She had to feel his hands on her again, but how could she let him get away with what he’d done? The anger flowed back afresh and Ryan shook her head. He needed to learn a lesson about honesty and taking advantage of people. He needed to learn a lesson, but she needed to make love with him.

There had to be a way she could have both.

She stared out to the street and raked back her hair with her fingers. And then she blinked. Slowly, slowly a smile crept over her face as the beginnings of a plan took shape in her mind. Oh yes, she thought, there was definitely a way she could have both. Walking back to her desk, she signed her computer onto the Internet. It was time for a little research. This needed a personal touch.

By the time she talked with Cade an hour later, her plans were in place.

HE HAD TO COME CLEAN, that was all there was to it. Cade stared out the windows of his office for the hundredth time that day. Hearing her voice on his cell phone had brought the previous night back to him in Technicolor. He hadn’t realized how sterile and empty his life had become until he’d held her against him. Now everything felt different. Now all he could think of was Ryan in his arms like a column of flame.

The current situation, though, was a disaster waiting to happen. If there was anything he’d learned in his life, it was that the truth was the only way to go. He’d seen where the lies got you.

He’d grown up in L.A. with a father who worshipped the art of the deal and beautiful women, pretty much in that order. Cade and his mother had come in a distant third. Unfortunately, Cade’s father wasn’t nearly as good at lying as he was at cutting deals to finance feature films or high-rise office buildings. By the time Cade was eleven, his parents were in the midst of an acrimonious divorce. One hadn’t been enough for his father, though. With monotonous regularity, every four or five years the man got hooked enough on one or another of his mistresses to marry again. In a year, sometimes two, the shine would wear off and they’d divorce.

Infatuation didn’t last. After seeing his father go through wives two through four, he should have known that. Some lessons, though, you couldn’t learn by observation. Nope, Cade had had to find out himself with Alyssa. It was true love, he’d been sure of it. He was going to show his parents how a marriage was supposed to be. Except that when the flush of infatuation had faded, there’d been nothing left. “Chip off the old block,” his father had said when Cade had told him about the divorce. Christ, he’d hated him for that. In a way, though, he’d been right. Some people were cut out for it and some people weren’t.

Cade sighed. Maybe he wasn’t set up for happily ever after, but he could do with some more of Ryan’s company. The problem was how to salvage the situation. He’d botched things up the night before. He should just have told her the truth and tried to worm loose her phone number so he could see her later. Sleeping with her had been a big mistake. Unbidden, a smile stretched over his face. Huge mistake, and boy was he glad he’d made it.

So what now? Calling her up and telling her the truth wouldn’t do it. The only thing to do was to show up and be honest with her. If he put his mind to it, he was pretty sure he could bring her around sooner or later. He had to come clean with her, though. He owed it to her.

He owed it to himself.

RYAN STARED OUT THE window of her room at the Beacon Hill Hotel, watching night fall. Stepping into the room was like stepping onto a movie set for a turn-of-the-century bordello. Cade Douglas had a few surprises coming to him, she thought as she rose to open the bottle of wine that sat on the impeccable cherry wood vanity table. Of course, she thought, pouring herself a glass, if all else failed she could just brain him with the antique porcelain ewer.

Moving around the room, she lit candles. Roses and mums perfumed the air. A tufted brocade chaise longue sat in front of the window, bearing an ornate, tasseled pillow perfect for cushioning milady’s head. With sheer hangings draped over the canopy of the lace-covered, four-poster bed, it was a scene for romance and seduction.

Time for her to get in costume.

The knock on the door came as she was spritzing on perfume. She tried to ignore the quick surge of adrenaline, equal parts fury and desire, and walked over to the entry hall.

It was unfair that anyone should look that good, she thought, peering through the peephole. He stood there in a dove-gray suit, the indigo of his shirt bringing out the blue in his eyes. His hair looked black under the gas-lamp-style sconces in the hall. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door.

The words he’d planned to say died on his lips. She stood in a black lace merry widow, garters stretching down to silky hose, eyes challenging him to take her on. A red silk dressing gown swirled over the lace and matched the spike-heeled pumps she wore. Her dark hair tumbled down over her shoulders. Her mouth was an irresistible temptation. He stepped inside and she flowed into his arms.

She’d remember why she was furious with him in a minute, Ryan thought hazily as she sank into the kiss. Desire flowed around her thick and sweet, and she lost long minutes to the feel of his arms around her, the taste, the dark honey taste of his mouth. She barely heard the door swing shut behind them, enclosing them in the candlelit room.

Cade pressed his lips to her neck. “I’ve thought about this all day,” he murmured, sampling her skin.

Ryan broke loose first, breathing hard. She looked at him, eyes heavy-lidded. “I wasn’t sure if you’d forget again this time, so I planned ahead,” she said, glancing at a handful of condoms on the bedside table.

“Wouldn’t do to disappoint a lady.” Swiftly, he pulled her to him, running his hands down her body, over the curves beneath the lace. “Or myself.”

Ryan ran her fingers through his hair. It felt glorious, but it wouldn’t do to forget why she was here. “Seems like one of us has too many clothes on, and it’s not me.”

He stroked the bare flesh above her stocking. “Oh no, darlin’, what you’ve got on is exactly right.” Cade stepped back and grinned, shrugging off his coat. “Guaranteed to give me good dreams tonight, assuming you ever let me sleep.”

She watched him strip off his tie and stepped in to help unbutton his shirt. “Does being a gigolo always require such formal wear?”

“You know, all these career advancement seminars always talk about the importance of appearance.” He leaned down to unlace his shoes. “There are even rules about how to undress.”

“How to undress?” Ryan sank down on the bed to watch him, propping her head on her hand and casually flipping her dressing gown back to reveal lace and garters. Lazily, she stroked a hand up the inside of her thigh and circled out over her hip.

His eyes flashed hot with desire. Leaning over the bed, he kissed her until her breath came fast, then he stood back up. “Well, yes.” Enjoying himself, he watched her intently. “For example, even the sexiest guy looks like a dork parading around in socks and jockey shorts. All the best gigolo manuals advise removing the shoes and socks before the pants come off.” Sitting in the chair by the window, he demonstrated.

“Do tell. I’d always figured that natural talent counted most in your career. Clearly, I was misinformed.” Ryan stroked the skin of her neck, fingertips sliding down to the swell of her breasts.

Cade’s eyes were riveted on her hands. “Well, there’s certainly something to be said for talent and enthusiasm,” he said, standing up to drop his trousers, his “talent” jutting out from his boxers.

Then he stripped them off as well and her mouth went dry.

“Now who’s got on too many clothes?” he asked, easing onto the bed beside her and sliding his hands down her silk gown. He kissed the smooth skin of her shoulders as he eased the silk down her arms.

“Cade,” Ryan said as she felt his lips on her. “I was thinking about this all day today when I was at work.” His response was muffled as he pushed her flat and began to kiss her breasts where they rose above the merry widow. Despite herself, she moaned. “I was thinking about what we could do tonight and what would really turn me on,” she managed.