Название: Secret Seduction
Автор: Lori Wilde
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon Blaze
isbn: 9781408915127
isbn:
“So what is your favorite classic movie, when you have time to indulge your passion?” he asked.
“Dark Victory,” she said without hesitation.
“You go for the tearjerkers.”
“Tearjerkers are more like real life.”
“Which is exactly why some people like to escape into comedies.”
“Let me guess, you’re a Three Stooges fan,” she said. “Or maybe the Marx Brothers?”
“Actually, “ he admitted, “when it comes to classic movies, it’s John Wayne all the way.”
“I should have guessed.” She smiled. “What’s your fav? Rio Bravo?”
“McLintock!”
“Seriously?”
“I’m a sucker for romance. Plus Maureen O’Hara was pretty easy on the eyes. I have a thing for feisty women.” He winked.
Suddenly she had a hard time catching her breath.
The conversation lagged and Vanessa didn’t try to stir it. Strangely enough, the silence between them didn’t feel awkward at all. It felt nice. Natural.
They finished their meal and lingered over a cup of coffee.
“What’s your specialty?” Tanner asked.
“Specialty?” She was so busy staring at his impressively broad shoulders, his question caught her off guard and for a minute there she thought he was asking her a very personal question.
“Pediatrics, internal medicine, heart surgeon?”
“Cosmetic and reconstructive surgery.”
“Really?” His tone sounded almost accusatory.
She bristled. “Something wrong with plastic surgery?”
“Settle down,” he said. “The question wasn’t a shot against your chosen career. You just seem like you’d be a pediatrician.”
“Why? Because I’m a woman? You just assume I’d be good with kids?” She knew she sounded defensive. She didn’t even know why she was reacting this way.
Tanner held up his palms. “I surrender. I can see I’m snugged up behind the eight ball on this one.”
He looked so contrite, Vanessa laughed. “Well, thanks for having dinner with me, Tanner,” she said, opening her wallet to pull out enough cash to cover the cost of her meal.
His hand closed over hers. “Dinner is on me.”
“No,” she said and lifted her chin proudly. “I always pay my own way.”
He didn’t argue, just let go of her hand. Vanessa suddenly realized she was breathless. “All right,” he said. “If you insist. But then at least let me give you a ride home.”
“I’ll catch a cab.”
“Beholden to no one,” he said lightly.
“That’s right.”
He studied her for a long moment. “Doesn’t it ever get exhausting?”
“What?”
“Never letting anyone help you. Always going it alone.”
“I’ve been beholden to people before,” she said. “There are always strings attached. I prefer life without any ties that bind.”
“So you don’t have any family.”
“No.”
“Don’t you ever get lonely?
Yes.
The man was too perceptive. It unnerved her that he could assess her so easily, how much he seemed to understand.
Vanessa swung her purse strap up on her shoulder and pushed back her chair. “Nice dance, nice meal, have a nice life, Tanner.”
She got to her feet, her movements tense and jerky. She felt so many conflicting things at once—nervousness, disappointment, sexual frustration—and he was the cause of it all.
Not really. Carlo Vega has a lot to do with you ending up here.
“What’s your hurry, Vanessa?”
She wished she’d given him a fake name. The sound of her name on his tongue, spoken in that deep, arresting voice, did funny things to her insides. “It’s late,” she said. “I gotta go.”
Without a backward glance, she hurried from the hotel restaurant, pushing through the revolving glass door and ending up on the vacant street.
The wind had kicked up while they’d been inside, tossing litter and leaves along the sidewalk. Lightning lit the sky in the distance. Thunder rumbled. An unseasonable rainstorm on the way.
Goose bumps raised on her arms. Who would have thought she’d need long sleeves in August in Austin?
She walked to the front of the hotel entrance, but there were no cabs at the cab stand. She stood underneath the streetlamp, glancing up and down the block. No taxi in sight, but surely one would be along in a minute. No sign of the valet, either. She paced to the end of the block, feeling like a target in her red dress and high heels. Maybe she should wait in the hotel lobby.
And risk running into Tanner again? No thank you. She had the feeling if she saw him again she’d throw all caution to the wind and ask him to take her home with him.
Where was a taxi?
“Come on, come on,” she muttered and glanced at her watch. She remembered other late nights, other lonely streets and her gut squeezed.
Footsteps sounded behind her and her heart froze. She fumbled for the mace in her purse and found it.
With the mace in her palm, finger on the nozzle, she whirled around, growling, “Back off!”
Tanner raised both arms. “Don’t shoot.”
“Oh,” she said and let out a breath. “It’s you.”
“Storm got you spooked?”
“A little,” she said, dropping the mace back inside her handbag. She hated to admit it, but she was relieved to see him. “What are you doing here?”
“What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you stand out here alone? Are you sure I can’t give you a lift home?”
In the time it took her to draw in a deep breath, she considered his offer, but she was intensely private and didn’t like strangers knowing where she lived.
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