Автор: Marie Ferrarella
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781474027762
isbn:
Nicole threw him a sideways glance of amusement.
“I’ll come back and we can play again,” Rafe said to his son.
Joel studied him. “You promise?”
Rafe’s chest tightened with some emotion he couldn’t name. “I promise.”
“Okay,” he said and Nicole sent him upstairs to his bedroom.
She led Rafe to the door. “Thank you for not pushing.”
“That was just for tonight,” he said and turned to look at her. “I’d like to get together with you sometime tomorrow. There are things we need to discuss without Joel.”
To his surprise, she nodded. “I agree. I have several appointments in the morning, but I should be free by twelve-thirty.”
“We can meet for lunch at one of my brother’s restaurants. Peachtree Grill okay?”
“That will work.”
Still all business, he thought, and made a split-second decision to remind her that he was a man and she was a woman. He took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb against the soft underside of her wrist. “Thanks for working with me on this.”
Surprise and awareness flashed through her eyes. “You’re, uh, welcome,” she said and he removed his hand just before she would have.
He watched her rub her hand over her wrist as if it burned and felt a jab of satisfaction. The lady wasn’t as cool as she pretended.
Nicole felt her pulse pick up as she killed her engine just outside the restaurant where she was to meet Rafe. She took a deep breath, telling herself that she was reacting to the threat he represented, not his masculine appeal.
So he’d done well with Joel last night. That hadn’t been much of a test. A couple hours, she scoffed. That was nothing.
Grabbing her purse, she rose from the car and straightened her wool jacket, then walked toward the restaurant. A hostess wearing a short black dress and boots greeted her just inside the door.
“I’m here to meet Rafe Medici,” she said noticing that the restaurant appeared to be nearly full.
The hostess shot her a smile as she guided her around the corner. “Lucky girl. Come this way. Oh, look, the servers are swarming the poor guy.”
Nicole glanced up and saw three women dressed in short skirts and white blouses standing in front of the wooden booth where Rafe sat.
The hostess cleared her throat loudly. “Excuse me. Here’s Mr. Medici’s lunch date.”
Nicole wanted to correct the hostess. This wasn’t a date—it was more of an inquisition. All three female servers turned to stare at Nicole in envy.
“Enjoy your meal,” the hostess said and two of the servers left with her.
Rafe stood and slid his hand over hers for a sizzling instant. “Good to see you. What would you like to drink?”
“Coffee is fine,” she said, feeling her heart bump at the way he looked at her. She forced her gaze away from his as she sat on the leather bench.
“Cream?” the lone remaining server asked.
“No, thank you. I’ll take it black.” Mentally girding herself, she looked up at him and couldn’t help noticing how handsome he was. Heaven help her if Joel turned out this good-looking. She would be beating the girls off with a stick. It wasn’t just Rafe’s dark hair, attractive features and killer body that would weaken a woman’s defenses. It was the liveliness in his eyes and his expressive mouth. His sheer attentiveness would boggle most women. She needed to make sure she didn’t fall into that already overflowing group.
“How was your morning?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Productive,” she said, surprised he would be remotely interested. “I visited three clients and coordinated some additional services for one of them. Also received a referral.”
“I’ve heard you’re well liked by your clients and that the medical community considers you a bit of a bulldog, but still respects you.”
“And where did you hear that?” she asked as her coffee was served.
“From a private investigator.” He shrugged. “Don’t waste your energy on outrage. You wouldn’t talk to me, so I had to find out for myself. Wouldn’t you have done the same if the roles had been reversed?”
The idea of having someone snoop into her business irritated her. “Would you say he’s good at what he does?”
“Very,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
“Maybe I can hire him to give me information about you.”
Rafe met her gaze and she saw a flash of challenge in his eyes. Then he laughed and leaned back in his seat. “Go right ahead, but I can save you the money. Ask me anything. I’m yours for the next hour.”
Nicole wondered how many women had ripped off their clothes at the sight of his wicked smile. She could easily understand why Tabitha had been seduced by him. He possessed an electric appeal. The same way a bug zapper seduced mosquitoes and zapped them to death.
“Tell me about your family,” she said after they’d placed their orders with the server.
He paused and his expression turned thoughtful. “As I told you, my father died when I was young. It was a train accident. One of my brothers died at the same time.” She watched the grief cut through his eyes and felt a stab in her heart. “My mother couldn’t handle us alone, so my brothers and I were placed in foster homes,” his hand clenching into a fist. “Our world was blown apart.”
Despite her huge doubts about Rafe’s ability to be a good father to Joel, his story tugged at something inside her. “That must have been difficult.”
“It was, but a lot of things in life can be difficult. I was much luckier with my foster parents than my older brother was. He emancipated himself as a minor before he graduated from high school.”
“Wow,” she said, thinking of how insulated her boarding-school upbringing was in comparison. “What is he doing now?”
“Running an obscenely successful company with a few sidelines when it suits him. He just got married.” A smile played over his lips. “He would do anything for her and she would do anything for him.” A glint of envy crossed his face so quickly she wondered if she imagined it. “Not everyone is that lucky. He deserves it. I can afford to be generous. I finally beat him at pool,” he joked.
“Sounds like an interesting family,” she said, feeling a teensy bit envious at the camaraderie she heard in his voice.
“I’m betting it’s worlds apart from yours,” he said.
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