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She was drawn to the guy, no doubt about it. And this was her one night out in the city to have fun before it was time to head back to Zeke’s Bend and face her newly single status.
Whoever Heath (and what a yummy name that was) had arranged to meet, it wasn’t Sylvie. But that didn’t mean the woman couldn’t be Sylvie now. Take a chance, have some fun, be dangerous, live on the edge.
She took a moment and glanced around the bar to see if another woman in a champagne dress was waiting nearby.
The bartender delivered Heath’s drink with a quick bow then scrambled away again.
“I think he’s afraid of you,” Sylvie said, stalling for time. “Are you a secret agent type who seduces ladies and terrifies men? Am I going to be your sidekick while you stop a bad guy from blowing up the city?”
“It wouldn’t be so bad a life.” His tone was devastatingly flirty. “Adventurous missions, exotic locales and meeting beautiful women like you. It sounds like a much better alternative to what I actually have planned for us tonight. It’s only a business dinner I’m afraid.”
Sylvie frowned. What was it with men and business? From a chiropractic convention to a business dinner. Well, hurrah.
He laughed. “You look disappointed. Didn’t your employer tell you why I was hiring you? I can’t imagine your services are often required for saving the city from villains.”
Hiring her? What the hell? He mentioned a service. Services? Her employer? She was beginning to put this together and —
“Do you think I’m a whore?” she blurted, her verbal filter dropped like a hot coal.
His thick brows shot up. “Of course not. I don’t know what I could have said to give you that impression, but I certainly didn’t intend it.”
“Oh, well then, that’s good. Because I’m not a whore.”
“Of course not.”
He took a long drink and studied her. She took a long sip of her own drink because right then, she seriously needed some liquid courage.
“I’ve used your employer before,” he said. “It’s strictly an escort service without the … well … without the happy ending, so to speak.”
He looked uncomfortable, which amused Sylvie, who sensed that this man was rarely flustered.
Sylvie wasn’t sure what to think. Here was a gorgeous, obviously wealthy man who hired an escort service to provide him with dates for business dinners. It didn’t make any sense.
“Why would a man like you need an escort service to get a date?” she asked.
“What difference does it make? I don’t mean to be rude, but do you always grill your dates like this and accuse them of thinking you’re something you’re not?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But come on. You’re not a paunchy, red-faced blowhard who has just enough money to drape a decent-looking woman on his arm every once in a while. You must be aware that women find you attractive.”
His grin returned. “You think I’m attractive?”
“Quit playing around.” She ran a fingertip over the rim of her glass, pretending to be cooler than she actually was. “Fess up. Why’d you hire me?”
“Honestly? Because it’s easy. I don’t know you. You don’t know me. You won’t get the wrong idea and think we’re going to live happily ever after just because I asked you out once.”
She considered his response. His honesty was plain on his handsome features. “You’re rich, good looking, and women are always hoping you’ll marry them if you so much as smile at them. That’s what you’re saying.”
“I wouldn’t put it that way, but, yes. I’m a busy man, and a simple transaction is the easiest and quickest way to handle things.”
“Even your love life?”
“Who’s talking about my love life?”
The way he said it sent a shiver down her back. “Your social life, then. You’ve turned it into a business exchange.”
“This aspect of my social life, yes. It’s a simple transaction.”
Sylvie batted her eyelashes, deciding to go fishing. “It’s not a cheap transaction, either.”
“It’s not. But seeing you, it’s well worth every dollar and then some.”
Hmm. She was in a dilemma. On the one hand, she wasn’t a prostitute, not even a woman who’d prostitute her company. But on the other hand, this was the finest man she’d ever met and he was probably planning to take her to a fancy restaurant.
Wow. Tonight, she’d dumped one guy for acting like she wasn’t good enough, and now here was another one thinking she was a hot paid escort.
The idea of a spontaneous adventure appealed to her. She realized she should set Heath straight, but this could be a story she could tell her friends for ages.
She could hear it already, how she’d pretended to be an escort and gone to dinner with a rich, devastatingly handsome man. Everyone would ooh and ahh and ask what she ate, if they danced, and what it was all like. They’d want to know how much he paid for it all, too.
Really, if she played along, what was the worst that could happen? She might have to eat snails or something like in “Pretty Woman.” It didn’t sound so bad.
She took a few more hasty glances around the room and didn’t see anyone in a champagne silk dress. The real Kassy had missed her chance.
She smiled and gave her companion her full attention. “I’m definitely worth every penny, Heath.”
He held out a big, manicured hand. “I look forward to spending time with you this evening, Kassy.”
“And I, you.”
She took his hand, and when her skin touched his, she nearly yanked her hand back in surprise. A brilliant, electric buzz passed between them, something akin to static electricity, but not that. Something else. Something she’d never felt before.
She blinked. He blinked.
His eyebrows shot up again. He’d felt it, too.
Tonight had taken a fascinating, tingly turn.
Chapter Three
HEATH BLINKED. SOMETHING ELECTRIC HAD passed from Kassy straight up his arm and down his spine. Something that made his loins tighten. Something he’d never felt before.
When Kassy pulled her hand away, he realized she was flustered. She must have felt it, too. Interesting. No, more than interesting. Strange.
He watched her pick up her drink and take a sip, her full upper lip wrapping over the brim of the glass. Damn. He couldn't look away. He tried to focus on her elegant, tapered fingers, the long, silvery nails sparkling in the low lighting. Nope. He had to watch her mouth, those sexy lips.
He sipped his own drink but didn’t taste it. Who was this woman?
He’d used this particular escort service several times in the past, and he’d always been pleased enough. The women they sent were always intelligent, educated, good-looking and decent conversationalists.
In general, they were everything they should be to pass as a legitimate date, and most of them only did this work part-time as a way to afford college or as extra income to support a fledgling career in some field or other.
But this woman, Kassy, she was a world apart. When he’d spotted her from the doorway, he hadn’t dared dream this vision was his date for the evening.
To say that she was built was an understatement. She had curves in all the right places, with wide hips and a nipped-in waist that couldn’t be hidden even when she was sitting.
Her silk dress hugged her shapeliness and snugged up against a generous bosom that was just the right heaping handful size. And those legs, those long, shapely, creamy mocha legs that were silkier looking than her dress, ending in delicate feet slipped into heels that displayed her dainty, painted toenails — she was more than right, in every way.
She was a vision of femininity from another time. Her gently curling hair and her wide-set eyes, her full lips and defined cheekbones, all combined into a devastating assault on his senses.
She was, without doubt, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And that was what he thought before she smiled at him.
When Kassy smiled at him, it was like he’d been punched in the stomach, briefly knocking the air out of him. It was a thousand watt flash that lit up his world like a floodlight in a blackout. That smile was everything, kind and spunky, smart and teasing, welcoming and warm, and perfectly devastating.
It made him want to know her. To know her well.
In fact, the actual words that passed through his befuddled mind had been, “That’s the woman I’m going to marry.”
What an idiot he was. He hadn’t even spoken to her yet. How stupid was it to think such a thing? He wasn’t some country bumpkin on his first trip to the city getting his first look at a beautiful girl.
He was one of the most sought-after men in his social sphere. Women threw themselves at him. He could have his pick, and he did pick, plenty. He just always wound up tossing them back.
He’d certainly never had the clichéd, “I’m going to marry that woman” moment you heard long-dead actors talk about in scratchy black and white movies. Not until tonight. Not until Kassy.
