CHAPTER THREE
SO HE WANTED to see the woman behind the frigid façade did he? Mallory jerked open and slammed closed the drawers in her room, tossing things on the bed and muttering aloud.
Cold. He’d had the nerve to call her cold. She picked up her most sinful, decadent teddy and held it in the air. Could she really be cold, frigid, she amended if her taste ran to silk and satin? To warm brandy and smooth sheets? To erotic dreams she couldn’t share with anyone, including the man who inspired them?
She pushed the pile of lingerie aside and flopped down on the bed. Her fist curled around the bedspread and she swiped at a stray tear that dripped down her face. God, the man had a way of getting to her. Sexually, emotionally, it didn’t matter. She cared what he thought of her and hated, hated that all he saw was Mallory Sinclair, Esq. A woman she’d created to achieve her long-standing goal.
A goal that suddenly came in second to showing Jack Latham his hunch was right. The man obviously sensed there was more to Mallory than what the world saw. What he saw. Just as she believed there was more to Jack Latham than his Terminator moniker implied.
But the old double standard had come into play and Jack had actually criticized her for doing her job as well as any man. Mallory might not like her father’s outlook on many things, but her parents had still ingrained her with some values she both admired and lived by. Including loyalty, respect and staying power—in relationships as well as careers. So here she was attempting to do her best for a man who was obviously hurting his wife. His treatment of Mrs. Lederman didn’t, or shouldn’t, matter, not to the professionals hired to represent him in a divorce. And that’s what Mallory was. A professional.
Jack ought to understand because they were bound by the same ethics. Yet because she was a woman he expected her to act differently. To show her emotions. Coming from Jack, that damn double standard hurt. She’d expected more of him though she didn’t know why. The man was the Terminator, after all. He represented husbands against wives regardless of fairness or truth. Because that was his ethical obligation.
But despite his job as Waldorf, Haynes’s chief divorce attorney, Mallory believed there was more to Jack. Just one day in his company and she sensed a gold mine of emotion beneath the surface. Oh, if pushed, he would claim to believe in all his male clients. He would state aloud that women were at fault in the breakup of most marriages. She’d heard him spout the same rhetoric around the office. She couldn’t help hearing his secretary’s gossip about why he’d become a hotshot divorce attorney. If the stories regarding his mother’s blatant and ongoing infidelities were true, then personal pain lay behind Jack’s antimarriage rhetoric.
His shaded sunglasses had hidden his eyes but other things had given his emotions away. The twitch in his full lips and the grip of his hand on the table that turned his knuckles white, only obvious because she’d been looking for a sign of humanity, had proven Mallory correct. He wasn’t immune to Mrs. Lederman’s suffering, even as he directed her to communicate with the husband she loved through their attorneys from now on.
It had been easier to ignore Jack Latham’s appeal when only sexual attraction was involved. Now that Mallory had spent time with the man, now that she saw depth behind the good looks and toned body, she couldn’t leave him with the impression he obviously had of her. He wanted to see the woman behind the mask. And she had enough pride to want to strip away the veneer and show him.
It was a gamble. Jack Latham was a respected partner. He could break her career with a word whispered in the right ears. But weighing all risks, Mallory came down on the side of chance.
Geez, lady, you’re cold. Just once on this trip I’d like to see the woman beneath the frigid façade.
She fingered a garment of pure silk between her fingertips. If he was perceptive enough to use that sort of terminology, Mallory was gutsy enough to expose what lay beneath.
For his eyes only.
Curling her legs beneath her, Mallory gave serious thought to how best make her point. By the time she’d formulated her plan, she’d actually managed to arouse herself with tantalizing, intriguing possibilities.
She glanced at her watch. She had some free time before meeting up with Jack again later. Plenty of opportunity to set things in motion.
She lay back against the pillows, squeezed her eyes shut tight and imagined Jack’s reaction. Anticipation rose inside her, building to a rolling crescendo, causing a steady, rhythmic pounding beat between her thighs. She lay her hand on the soft material of her panties. A small press downward both alleviated the ache and increased her need. Her fingertips glided over silk, outlining her mound of flesh. So easily, she thought. She could take the edge off the hunger and go on with her day. But alleviating her tension would kill the anticipation she’d feel watching Jack.
She wanted to make him need Mallory Sinclair, the woman.
Then she wanted to take him to the edge…and over.
And she wanted to topple with him, not alone.
So, Mallory thought, let the seduction begin.
* * *
HE COULD get used to this. Jack glanced out over the pool to the glistening water beyond. The tangy smell of the ocean, the clear blue sky and the sexy women in bikinis. Yeah, he could get used to this. He leaned back in his seat and stretched his legs out in front of him. The sun beat against his skin, warm and comforting.
“Sorry I’m late. I had to run a few errands and they took longer than I thought.” Mallory slid into the seat across from him, looking uptight in the same boxy blue dress. But she didn’t seem upset over this morning’s incident and he was grateful.
“Everything okay?”
She nodded. “We left in such a rush that I forgot a few things.”
“Well I managed to catch up with Paul in the sauna. We spent an hour commiserating over needy women. It’s way too soon to push him on making a decision, but he’s starting to trust me and I’ve got some more facts to fill you in on.”
“Sounds good.”
“Drink first?” he asked.
She hesitated.
“Consider this more a vacation than a business trip. Seriously we’re only here because Lederman wants to get to know us outside of the office. He’s eccentric, like I said. So go ahead. Have a drink.” Jack wanted to put her at ease. There was no way he could spend a week in her company if she looked like she was about to bolt at the first opportunity.
After his thoughtless comment this morning, he wouldn’t touch the issue of her clothes now, but he didn’t know how long he could watch her roasting in dresses beneath the blazing sun.
He gestured for a waiter. “The lady will have a…” He narrowed his gaze, trying to assess what Ms. Sinclair would drink. “White wine spritzer?”
She shook her head. “Club soda, please.”
Jack blinked, and refrained from rolling his eyes. “I’ll have a refill.” He lifted his glass that had contained Absolut vodka on the rocks.
The waiter nodded. “Be right back, folks.”
“Oh, wait,” Mallory said.
He turned back around. “Change your mind?”
Jack actually held his breath.
“A wedge of lime, please.”
He should have known.
“So what were you saying about Lederman?” she asked.
“Aside from complaining about marriage, he’s hiding something.” Jack finished the end of his drink.
“What makes you say that?”
“He got a phone call. The guy who relayed the message didn’t say who was calling, but Lederman bolted out of the sauna so fast he nearly lost his towel.” He laughed and waited for her to do the same.
Her expression remained steady. He stifled a groan. He couldn’t imagine she didn’t find the image amusing, so he figured she was still angry with him after all. But he wasn’t about to repeat this morning’s conversation.
Better to focus on work. “At any rate, when he returned I asked him if everything was okay. I thought maybe there was an emergency at the resort, but he didn’t cover well. He flushed, hemmed and hawed, then finally said his son had called from California.”
Mallory shrugged. “Why are you so sure he didn’t?”
“Gut instinct. Besides, that’s an easy enough answer without beating around the bush.”
She nodded. “True. So what do you think he’s hiding? It makes no sense to keep us in the dark. Not if we’re on his side.”
“Agreed. And I intend to find out just as soon as…”
“Here are your drinks, folks.”
The waiter exchanged Jack’s empty glass for a full one that no longer appealed, but he thanked the man and turned his gaze back to Mallory. “I could have outright asked him what was going on, but…”
“Excuse me sir, but this is for you.” The waiter handed Jack a folded slip of paper.
“Phone message?” Jack wondered aloud.
“Actually the bartender asked me if I recognized the name on the top and since you’d just signed for your lunch earlier…”
“Did he say who left it?”
“He found it on the bar when the lunch crowd disappeared.”
“Strange.” He lifted the folded paper and a feminine scent drifted toward him. He raised the paper and the aroma grew stronger. More appealing.
“Anything else?” the waiter asked.
“No thank you,” Mallory said in her polite but husky voice.
Jack shook his head, then unsealed the note. Invitation to Seduction—a private evening of dinner, dancing and gratification of the senses. Eight o’clock. Beach cabin number 10. He tried to swallow and choked instead. There were further instructions, seductive allusions about what he could expect should he dare to RSVP.
He flipped the page over and read the back print. Come on time. And come hungry. His eyes teared and he grabbed for the drink that hadn’t appealed to him minutes earlier. Instead of easing his distress, the alcohol burned its way down his throat, and he coughed harder.
Mallory stood and gestured for the waiter. “Water, please,” Jack heard her request. “Are you okay?” she asked.
He swallowed again and breathing came easier. “Fine. Just…swallowed wrong.”
“Oh.” She lowered herself into her seat. “You scared me for a second. I thought I was going to have to do mouth-to-mouth.”
He stared at her, sure he hadn’t heard correctly.
“Resuscitation,” she said quickly. “Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation because I thought you’d stopped breathing or something.” She waved her hand in the air. “Never mind. As long as you’re okay now.”
“I’m fine.” He glanced at the note that now lay in his lap. As fine as he could be with an erotic invitation to seduction nestled in his groin and his repressed associate staring at him wide-eyed from across the table.
Who the hell could have sent it? He glanced around but the sea of women in bathing suits gave him no clue. Jack broke into a sweat that had nothing to do with the sun’s burning rays.
“Is it from Lederman?” Mallory asked.
He sure as hell hoped not. “It’s personal.”
She shrugged. “Okay, so do you plan to ask him straight out what’s going on?”
He stared over her shoulder, scrutinizing each woman who passed. None gave any indication that they’d sent the note, but someone had propositioned him and damn if it didn’t sound exciting. Tantalizing. Intriguing.
Hell, he’d be a fool not to show up at eight. And he’d be an even bigger fool to walk into some unknown woman’s fantasy.
“Jack? Jack. I asked if you plan to confront Paul Lederman.” Mallory asked, obviously confused by his inability to concentrate. She stared at him openly behind those damn black-rimmed glasses.
He had the absurd urge to confide in her and that in itself told him what a bizarre frame of mind he’d been in since starting this trip. Now this. He lifted the note and held it to his nose.
Floral? Oriental? He couldn’t place the scent, though he had the sense he’d smelled it before. In his dreams, Jack thought.
“Maybe we ought to do this some other time. You’re obviously distracted.” Mallory rose from her seat.
“Wait.”
“Why? Nothing I do or say seems to hold your interest. Why don’t you take care of personal matters and we can meet up again later.”
He let out a long groan. “Have a seat, Mallory. You asked if I plan on confronting Lederman. The answer is no. This is how the man operates. He likes to build trust slowly. That’s why we’re here, for him to assess us, to build trust. The firm still handles most of his business, but this…this is personal. When he’s ready, he’ll confide.”
“And in the meantime?” She tapped her foot against the white concrete.
“We wait. Enjoy the beach. The view.” Come on time. And come hungry. “The food,” he muttered.
“Excuse me?”
He shook his head. She was right. No way in hell could he concentrate on business now—whoever sent this invitation could be watching him. Assessing him. Appraising him. His body shook in reaction.
Mallory grabbed for her pad. “Maybe you’re coming down with something. You’ve got the chills.”
More like he was burning with anticipation. “You’re right. Let’s meet up again later.”
She nodded. “Get some rest first. How does eight tonight sound?”
He sucked in a breath of ocean air and forced a grin. “I thought I told you to consider this a semi-vacation. Take the night off and we’ll talk in the morning.”
“Suit yourself.” She turned and walked away.
He followed the sleek way she moved and the sway of her legs in her sensible sandals. Wasted potential, Jack thought, and it was a pity.
But he couldn’t think about Mallory now. He waved the note in the air, savoring the lingering scent and the arousing effect the perfume had on his senses. All of his senses, and no doubt that was the intention.
Whoever had sent the invitation meant to stimulate and arouse. Well she’d done a damn good job. So good he couldn’t get up from this table yet, and probably not for a long while. At least he’d have time to think about whether or not he’d show up as requested.
Who was he kidding? Jack knew damn well he’d be there. Whoever had gone to the trouble of seeking him out deserved to at least have him respond. In person. And his tingling flesh and burgeoning erection left no doubt he wanted to make an appearance as well.
* * *
TWILIGHT ENVELOPED the beach as night settled in. With burning anticipation, Jack watched the digital clock in his hotel room inch closer to the hour. He had to hand it to the anonymous sender of that note, she’d managed to set the stage for a seduction and keep him aroused the entire afternoon.
A soft breeze swept in through his open terrace door, traveling off the ocean. And his body throbbed in time to the lapping sound of the waves hitting the shore. His heart pounded frantically inside his chest. Desire flowed fast and furious.
Yet he had no idea who he was about to meet.
Did anonymity heighten the sense of anticipation? The excitement? Mystery was a potent aphrodisiac, that much was certain. The need to know, the desire to act out the fantasy, had him ignoring his self-imposed rules against one-night stands. Whether he’d regret making an appearance later, he didn’t know. But right now, nothing could keep him from inhaling that intoxicating scent in person. Nothing could prevent him from arriving on time. And as he locked the hotel door behind him and made his way outside and into the dark night, the frenzied fire, already ignited, burst into a potent, powerful flame.
The resort boasted ten secluded cabins, dotted along the beach. Thanks to the map in his hotel room, Cabin 10 wasn’t hard to find, even well-hidden beneath lush foliage. But keeping his cool was difficult and by the time he arrived, he’d actually broken into a sweat.
Jack Latham, the self-proclaimed playboy, the man who thrived on challenges and the women who provided them, was jittery and impatient. And also self-conscious, he admitted as he recalled the instructions he’d committed to memory after one reading.
Following those detailed instructions, he closed his eyes, raised his hand and knocked on the cabin door. In the darkness, sounds became magnified and his knuckles rasping against the door pounded inside him as well. Crickets chirped around him and the breeze rustled the neighboring branches. Seconds passed and then he heard creaking hinges as the door opened.
His stomach churned in anticipation and the urge to look was overwhelming. But the instructions had been clear. If he wanted his desires granted, he had to follow the rules and so he kept his eyes shut tight.
Without warning, a soft hand grabbed his wrist. His breath caught in his throat and his mouth grew dry. He found himself locked in a warm and gentle, yet firm and determined, grip. Not a word was spoken but an insistent pull propelled him ahead, probably inside the cabin.
Jack stepped forward, eyes still closed, pulse still hammering out a rapid beat. He crossed a wide expanse of space until a jerk on his wrist stopped him. The warmth of feminine body heat grew closer. He wasn’t sure how he sensed it, but somehow Jack knew she stood before him. And then he inhaled, taking in the fragrant scent that had been with him all afternoon. Stirring his senses. Teasing his restraint.
Her hands settled on his shoulders and pushed him downward until he was sitting, enveloped by luxurious cushions and what he thought was soft velvet.
“I have to look at you,” he murmured.
He sensed the shake of her head, felt the press of delicate fingertips against his eyelids. Not yet. The unspoken words hovered between them.
“You followed the instructions, so now you get your wish. You wanted to see the woman beneath the frigid façade.” The words were whisper-soft. Featherlight.
But the husky voice was glaringly familiar—and arousing, as it had been from the first. Still, shock propelled his eyelids open.
He expected to see Mallory Sinclair, Esq. Instead he faced a seductress with curves he’d never dreamed Mallory possessed. Glorious waves of black hair flowed over her shoulders. Perfectly applied makeup accented features he had thought only had potential.
He’d been wrong.
Perfection couldn’t be improved upon and if he hadn’t been so caught up in what could be, he would have seen this Mallory all along. Mallory Sinclair, the sultry beauty.
The woman who’d sent him the invitation and who had an evening of seduction in store.