It Happened in L.A.: Ms Match / Shockingly Sensual / Playmates

A second later, she realized he was leaning toward her. She looked up just as his lips met her own.

Paul kissed her.

Again she froze, lips together, not breathing, waiting for something to happen. Him to back up with a start or a laugh or to ease his grip on her arm. What happened instead was that he continued to kiss her, tilting his head a bit to the right. Parting his lips.

Her eyes closed of their own volition, even as she told herself to move away, to stop the nonsense and get home where crazy things like sleeping with strangers didn’t happen. What she did instead was part her lips, too.

Paul sighed and she inhaled his peppermint breath. Time stretched and slowed her thoughts and her reactions until she barely recognized herself.

As if poked with a stick, Paul jerked back, snatched his hand away. He looked completely startled. “Whoa. Sorry about that. I didn’t mean—”

“No problem. Mistakes all around. Anyway…”

“Yeah, yeah.” He backed up a step, then two. “Anyway…”

“I’ll just be—”

“Sure. Good.”

She flung out her hand, searching for the door. “It was fun. The dancing.”

“Fun. Yes.” He backed up until he hit the bed.

Luckily, she found the door and before she could utter another inane word, she was out in the hall. She leaned back, hitting her head pretty hard, swore soundly, then made her way to the elevator, wondering what in the hell had happened to her. It was all too strange, every bit of it, and she felt sure that if her head didn’t hurt quite so much, she’d be able to make sense of the butterflies in her tummy. Or why the memory of his lips persisted. Why she felt the need to rub her arm where he’d touched her. Instead, she decided to pretend last night and this morning had never happened.

PAUL CHECKED his watch again. Autumn was later than usual for their dinner, and he was starving. He’d gotten their table at Nobu forty minutes ago, and the waiter was getting itchy. Paul had nursed his drink down to ice. Where was she? It had been her idea to come here, a thank-you for taking Gwen to the anniversary party. It had taken two weeks for her to come up with this dinner, changing plans at the last minute so they would meet here instead of him picking her up.

He really wasn’t sure why he bothered. Autumn was hot, but forty-minutes-late hot? Two weeks of cajoling and teasing hot?

It had taken him a full twenty-four hours to recover from the evening with Gwen, and a lot longer than it should have to stop thinking about it. He could hardly believe that he’d wanted to sleep with Autumn’s sister. Not only was she not at all his type, but the idea that he’d even considered doing something so unsavory made him wary of ever drinking again.

He knew a lot of guys, some of them good friends, who wouldn’t think twice about going after a sister. He wasn’t one of them. He liked to think he had standards. Okay, not terribly high standards, but he tried to adhere to simple rules. He never lied to any of his women about dating others. He didn’t cheat when he’d made any kind of commitment. There simply wasn’t a reason to.

He’d worried, right after, that Gwen would have told Autumn that he’d been stupid. The more he thought about it, the more he concluded she never would. She and Autumn weren’t close, plus, Gwen had been appalled when he’d suggested sex.

And that had been gnawing at him.

She hadn’t even given it a minute’s thought. Her answer had been immediate and fervent. He hadn’t had an outright rejection like that since he’d tried to get into Nina Jackson’s pants after she’d told him she was saving herself for marriage. But he’d been in college back then and he’d had the moral fortitude of a garden snake.

Gwen, on the other hand, wasn’t a child. He doubted she got a lot of invitations, so why had she reacted so strongly? The only thing he’d come up with was that she knew he was dating Autumn. That made sense.

He sipped the remnants of his drink as he looked around the restaurant. Everyone inside was young and attractive. Nobu was an L. A. hotspot. Celebrities showed up on a regular basis, there was always a cadre of paparazzi outside, and the food cost a damn fortune, but that was part of the cachet. Hard to imagine Gwen with him here.

Not that she was ugly, because she wasn’t. Hell, there were well-known actresses and singers who aced that category, but they had something that Gwen didn’t. He’d seen it in his work often, in fact. There was a certain air about a person who fit into the limelight. A charisma.

Gwen, he knew, would consider all this so much bullshit. She wouldn’t be impressed with the crowd or the chance that she might see someone famous. She would think it ridiculous to pay so much for the privilege of dining in an A-list restaurant, even if the food was superb.

He put his glass down. Gwen wouldn’t be so much out of place here as she would make him feel foolish for wanting her here.

Something caught his attention at the front of the restaurant and he sighed with relief that it was Autumn. She made her typical entrance. Flashy, bold as brass. Her dress was red and tight and short enough to really show off her exceptional legs. Her blond hair flowed over her shoulders like silk and when she walked, it was with the confidence of a woman who understood her power.

He stood and waited for it. Her dazzling smile came at the perfect time. The moment of greatest impact. The woman was wasting her talent on airplanes. At the very least, she should be modeling, at the most, ruling a kingdom. He suspected she was holding out for the latter. She’d told him several times that she was going to be switching routes to the Middle East instead of Europe and that could only mean she was going for the top prize. Some potentate with hot and cold running billions.

“Paul.” She said the word in that big-screen way. Soft, yet it carried to the cheap seats.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek before she sat. The smell of her was enough to end all critical thought. Damn.

She immediately ordered a special Nobu martini, and he ordered another of his. The second they were alone, she gave him a look that alerted all his testosterone to be at the ready. “Rumor has it, you and Gwen had quite a night.”

“Are you still on that? I told you. We danced. It was fun. I was glad to do it.”

“According to Faith, you weren’t doing me any favors.”

“What?”

“She said when you two got to the slow dances, a breeze couldn’t have gotten between you.”

“Gwen’s a good dancer.”

Autumn stared at him for a long moment, then burst into bright laughter. “Oh, my God. Your face! As if you and Gwen…” She laughed some more, garnering as much attention as she could without going a millimeter overboard. “She must have died when she saw you at her door. Oh, I wish I could have seen it.”

“It wasn’t all that funny.”

“Come on, Paul. I know my sister. It must have been something.” A delicate sniffle and a touch of her napkin at the outer corner of her eye, and then she looked at him once more. “I appreciate what you did. It had to have been awful for you. Faith said you acted like a real gentleman the whole night. She could barely believe you didn’t sneak out at the first opportunity.”

Paul picked up his menu, bothered more than he should have been at the way Autumn spoke about Gwen. Best to leave it alone. Autumn’s relationship, if he could call it that, to her sister wasn’t his business. But jeez. “I’m glad I could help. Did you want to start with appetizers?”

The moment Autumn picked up her menu he shifted gears. It wasn’t wise to think about Gwen now. He wanted to get through dinner and get to the good part with Autumn. He’d bought new condoms for the occasion.

He watched her, amazed as always at her sheer beauty. She had a quality about her that was the essence of what he’d been thinking about before. Charisma, magic, that something extraordinary that made strangers ask for her autograph. He’d seen it happen often. Even after she explained she wasn’t anyone noteworthy, they wanted her to sign the paper, the menu, their hand. She always did, too, as if it was the most natural request in the world.

Autumn lived out loud. She shimmered in the light. There was no way to ignore her.

Gwen kept her light inside. Private.

He couldn’t imagine that the two of them were related. Maybe their mother had had that affair with the postman after all.

“I’ll have the lobster ceviche and after that I’d like the toro tartar when he gets his main dish.”

He hadn’t realized the waiter was there until Autumn ordered so he made a quick decision and that was that. Their drinks arrived a moment later and Autumn changed the subject to her adventures in Rome.

He listened, enchanted as always. She didn’t require much from her audience so he didn’t worry overmuch when his thoughts wandered to what the night promised. They’d go back to his place. His maid had been there that afternoon, so everything was just right. He had champagne in the fridge and some very expensive beluga.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Hmm? Oh. You. Of course. Only you.”

GWEN POURED THE POPCORN from the popper and spread it on a cookie sheet. She got out the butter-flavored cooking spray and spritzed the whole pan, then covered the corn with her signature chili, lime and salt mix.