Читать книгу The Blind-Date Bride - Emma Darcy - Страница 7

PETE insisted they set off at a quarter to eight, even though it was barely a ten-minute drive around the coast to the beach town of Terrigal where they were dining in style tonight. Livvy and Catherine were to meet them at the restaurant at eight, which probably meant anything up to an hour later. Zack had little faith in female punctuality, particularly with social evenings. Still, the less time he had to spend with his blind date, the better.

Terrigal was a prettier beach than Forresters with its row of Norfolk Pines lining the foreshore, but it was tame in comparison with none of the wild, dangerous surf that stirred the sense of primitive elements at play. This was a highly civilised beach; calm water, smooth sand, edged by lawns, a large resort hotel and many fashionable boutiques and restaurants. A yuppie place, not a getaway, Zack thought, glad that Pete had chosen to buy a house on an untamed shoreline.

The restaurant they were heading for was called The Galley, built above the sailing club on the other side of town and facing towards the Haven, a sheltered little bay where yachts rode at anchor. The main street traffic was heavy and slow. By the time they got through it and reached the parking area adjacent to The Galley, it was precisely eight o’clock.

Drinks at the bar coming up, Zack anticipated. He watched a zippy red convertible coming down the incline to the car park as Pete was collecting a celebratory bottle of Dom Perignon from the back seat of his beloved BMW. Had to be a Mazda MX-5, Zack decided, and was surprised to see two women occupying the open front seats. It was the kind of car guys would cruise in. Women were always worried about their hairstyles being blown awry.

‘Told you they’d be on time,’ Pete crowed, nodding to the car Zack was watching. ‘That’s Catherine driving.’

A long-haired brunette. The blonde in the passenger seat had to be Livvy. ‘Is it her car?’ he asked, finding himself interested by the unexpected.

‘Yes. Livvy calls it Catherine’s rebellion.’

‘Against what?’

Pete shrugged. ‘Being a woman, I guess.’

Zack rolled his eyes at him. ‘You mean I’m about to be faced with a raging feminist.’

The answering grin was unrepentant. ‘More a femme fatale. Just watch your knees. They might buckle any minute now.’

Not a chance, Zack thought.

She parked the convertible right at the end of the row of cars, the furthest point away from the entrance to the restaurant. Ensuring it wouldn’t get boxed in, Zack decided, in case she wanted an easy getaway.

Which makes two of us, darling.

He and Pete waited at the BMW for the two women to join them. The black roof of the red convertible lifted from its slot at the back of the car and was locked in at the front. The blonde emerged first, waving excitedly at Pete. She looked very cute, wearing a clingy blue dress with shoestring shoulder straps. A pocket Venus for Pete, Zack thought, smiling at his choice.

Well, Catherine, strut your stuff, he silently challenged as a long rippling mane of very lustrous brown hair rose from the driver’s side, the kind of hair that would look good on a pillow, Feel good, too. A tingle of temptation touched his fingertips. He clenched his hands to wipe it away. This was not the time to let a woman get to him. So she had great hair. The workings of the brain under it probably had no appeal at all.

She turned to close the door and lock the car. Zack’s attention was galvanised. Pete hadn’t lied. He hadn’t even exaggerated. Catherine Trent was a stunner. Helen of Troy came to mind. Here was a face that could definitely launch a thousand ships. It seemed to simmer with sexual promise, aided by the erotic positioning of a deep pink flower over her right ear.

The tingle in his fingertips moved to his groin and there was nothing physical he could do to remove it. He tried willing it away. Impossible mission. She moved to the back of the car to join up with her sister and the full view of her was enough to blow any willpower right out of Zack’s head. Even his side vision was affected. Livvy Trent blurred. Only Catherine remained in sharp focus.

She had a mesmerising hour-glass figure, mouth-wateringly lush femininity encased in a slinky little black dress with a short flirty skirt that barely reached mid-thigh on long shapely legs that Zack thought would feel fantastic wrapped around him. She was tall—tall enough to wear flat black shoes, though they looked like ballet slippers with straps crossed around her ankles. Somehow they were erotic, too, more so than kinky stiletto heels.

His gaze leapt back to her fascinating face as she came nearer. A slight dimple in her chin, a sultry full-lipped mouth, straight nose, angled cheekbones that highlighted the unusual shape of her eyes, more triangular than almond, amber irises, glinting golden between their black frame of thick lashes. Cat’s eyes, he thought, but they didn’t conjure up the image of some tame domestic cat, more an infinitely dangerous panther, capable of clawing him apart.

And why he should find that idea exciting he didn’t know. Didn’t think about it. It just was. He felt something dark and primitive stir inside him, wanting to take up the challenge she was beaming at him, wanting her submission to the desires she aroused, wanting to possess every part of her until he’d consumed the power she was exerting over him.

A Class-A hunk, Catherine thought when she first saw Pete’s friend. Tall, dark and handsome with a body brimful of strong masculinity, his tight black jeans and the short-sleeved, open-necked white shirt showing off his impressive physique. Lots of surface sex appeal, but undoubtedly a bloated male ego to go with it.

‘Wow!’ Livvy murmured approvingly. ‘Pete’s friend sure measures up.’

Probably worked out at a gym in front of mirrors. Catherine was determinedly unimpressed, yet as they strolled towards the two men, a flutter started up in the pit of her stomach. It was the way he was looking at her, she argued to herself, assessing her female assets which, unfortunately, were on blatant display in Livvy’s dress.

She hadn’t cared earlier, even letting Livvy put the silly pink flower in her hair. It matched the spray of pink flowers featured on the black fabric of the dress, spreading diagonally from the left shoulder to the hem of the skirt. Livvy was into flowers in her hair this summer, using them as accessories to her outfits, but it wasn’t Catherine’s style. Not that it mattered tonight, except…she hoped Pete’s friend wasn’t seeing it as some flirtatious come-on.

On the other hand, if he wasn’t too full of himself, he was certainly attractive enough to flirt with. Though that could be a dangerous play. She wasn’t used to partnering a powerfully built man, and as she got closer, this man seemed to emanate power, the kind of big male dominant power that suddenly sent weak little quivers down her thighs.

Stuart was no taller than herself and his physique was on the lean side. His attraction lay more in a quicksilver charm than sheer physical impact. Catherine had always found eye contact and conversation sexier than actual bodies. All the same, she couldn’t stop her eyes from feasting on this guy. He had an undeniable animal magnetism that tugged out a wanton wondering about what it might be like to have sex with him.

Different, she decided.

Not quite civilised.

Dark and intense.

Like his eyes…now that he was looking directly into hers.

Catherine sucked in a quick breath as her heart skipped into a wild canter. This guy had it in spades. With one searing look he burnt Stuart Carstairs right out of her mind and stamped his own image over the scar. It was a stunning impact. Catherine hadn’t even begun to recover from it when she heard Pete Raynor start the introductions.

‘Livvy…Catherine…this is my friend, Zack Freeman…’

Another stunning impact.

She knew him. Or rather, knew of him. Who didn’t in the computer graphics business? Zack Freeman was already reaching legendary status for what he had achieved in special effects. He produced amazing stuff. And he was Pete’s friend…her blind date?

Very white teeth flashed a winning smile. ‘I’m delighted to meet you both. And I wish you a very happy birthday, Livvy.’

He offered his hand to her first—a perfunctory courtesy as Livvy thanked him—just a quick touch—then to Catherine, who found her hand captured by his for several seconds, making her extremely conscious of the warm flesh-to-flesh contact.

‘I appreciate your giving me your company tonight, Catherine,’ he said very personally, his voice pitched to a low, deep intimacy.

Her stomach flipped. She’d thought of Zack Freeman as some clever computer nerd with a weird creative genius, occupying some planet of his own. Yet here he was, right in front of her, so dynamically sexy she could scarcely breathe. It was a miracle she found the presence of mind to produce a reply.

‘My pleasure.’

His smile was quite dazzling, given the dark tan of his skin. He had a strong nose, strong chin. His eyebrows were straight and low, his eyes deepset, somehow emphasising their penetrating power. His hair was a mass of tight, springy black curls which should have had a softening effect, but perversely added a sense of wound-up aggression.

‘Nice car,’ he said, nodding to where she’d parked.

‘I like it.’

His eyes teased as he asked, ‘What does it say about you?’

She already felt under attack from him and instinctively she fended off the probe that was asking her to reveal private feelings. ‘Does it have to say anything?’

‘Cars always say something about their owners.’ He withdrew his hand and gestured to his friend. ‘Now take Pete here. His BMW says he’s made it. He’s solid. He likes proven performance.’

‘Right on,’ Pete agreed.

‘So what car do you own?’ Catherine asked Zack, wanting to learn something about him.

He grinned. ‘I don’t. If I need a car, I hire one.’

‘Don’t let him fool you, Catherine,’ Pete quickly inserted. ‘Zack’s a bikie from way back. He’s got a whole stable of bikes to suit whatever mood he’s in and whatever he wants to do.’

‘An open road man,’ she observed, thinking Zack Freeman had to have the kind of mind that would hate any form of confinement.

‘Like you, Catherine,’ Livvy popped in, all for encouraging this twosome.

Zack raised one eyebrow. ‘True?’

She shrugged. ‘I’ve only ever thought of my car as a somewhat impractical self-indulgence.’ She shot a rueful look at her sister. ‘Livvy’s the one who analyses everything to death.’

‘And I love her great sense of logic,’ Pete said with relish, beaming pleasure in her sister. He held out the bottle he was carrying. ‘Brought the best French bubbly to celebrate your birthday, Livvy.’

‘Great!’ She grabbed his arm, hugging it as he turned to lead them into the restaurant. ‘I just love your sense of occasion, Pete.’

They were so obviously happy with each other, Catherine shook her head over the pressure exerted on her to make up a foursome. She eyed Zack Freeman curiously, aware that he could probably snap his fingers and pick up any woman. So why had he agreed to a blind date?

She remembered Livvy’s argument, centred mostly on getting Catherine to rid herself of Stuart and open up to other men. Embarrassment squirmed through her at the thought that Livvy had engaged Pete’s help to fix up her sister and she was some kind of charity case to Zack Freeman—doing a favour asked of him by his old friend.

A horrible sense of humiliation forced her to blurt out, ‘Did Pete coerce you into partnering me tonight?’

He was slow to reply, possibly picking up her inner tension and musing over its cause. ‘I had no other plans. Pete wanted me to make up a party of four tonight and I agreed.’ His mouth quirked. ‘No regrets so far. But if you have a problem with the arrangement…’

‘No,’ she rushed out on a wave of intense relief. He hadn’t been told anything personal about her.

His head tilted quizzically. ‘You want to cut and run?’

Truth spilled out before she could stop it. ‘Livvy would kill me if I did.’

‘Ah! So she coerced you.’

Catherine took a deep breath, wanting to get onto some kind of equal footing with him. ‘It was more her idea than mine.’

‘Does that mean you’re anticipating pain with me?’

A nervous gurgle of laughter bubbled out. ‘Let me fantasise pleasure for a while.’

‘Good idea!’ His eyes twinkled wicked mischief. ‘I’ll do the same.’

He half turned, waving her to fall into step with him to follow Pete and Livvy. He made no attempt to take her arm or hand, for which she was grateful since she was super-conscious of his physicality as it was, and any contact would feel sexual after her blunder in linking pleasure and fantasy.

‘Livvy said you and Pete have been friends since school days,’ she remarked, trying to dampen the sizzle she’d unwittingly raised.

‘Mmm…going on twenty years. We’re still the same people to each other. You get to value that as you move through life.’

‘I guess you do a lot of role-playing with your work.’

He paused, slanting her a sharp look beneath lowered brows. ‘You know what I do?’

Would he have preferred her not to know? To pretend he was just some regular guy for the night? Was he sick of women climbing all over him for what he was?

‘It’s okay. I won’t blab on about it,’ she assured him. ‘I don’t think Livvy knows. I happen to work with graphic artists who are interested in everything you come up with—big discussions—so when Pete introduced you…’

‘You’re a graphic artist yourself?’ he cut in, an angry tension emanating from him.

‘No. And I’m not a user, either,’ she asserted, resenting the implied assumption that she might angle some benefit out of this meeting with him. ‘You’re perfectly safe with me, Zack Freeman.’

He gave her a long hard look that bristled with suspicion and she stared right back with fierce pride, finally earning a glint of respect.

‘Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,’ he drawled, his mouth taking on a wry twist. ‘You pack quite a punch, Catherine Trent.’

Heat whooshed up her neck and into her cheeks as sexual electricity crackled from him and zipped into her bloodstream. Catherine was appalled at herself. She never blushed. She might flush in anger, but blushing belonged to adolescence and she was way past that. A sophisticated career woman did not blush.

‘You’re not exactly harmless yourself,’ she retorted defensively, only realising it was an admission of the attraction he exerted after she had spoken. Not that it mattered. He knew anyway. Impossible for him not to be aware of his effect on women, just as she was aware that many men fancied her.

He shrugged. ‘Sorry if I gave offence. This is my week off from being the Zack Freeman. In fact, it’s my last night off. I have to go back to being him tomorrow.’

‘You don’t like being him?’ Was being so successful such a burden?

‘It has its rewards and I’m not about to give them up,’ he stated, determination glinting in his eyes. ‘But there’s a time and place for everything.’

And it was clear he wouldn’t enjoy being with some star-struck woman who raved on about what he’d achieved or tried to ferret out the key to his meteroric rise to fame in his field.

‘So what would you like tonight to be?’ Catherine asked, somewhat bemused by his wish to set aside the recognition that most men’s egos would demand.

He paused to consider. His eyes beamed a speculative challenge as he answered, ‘Whatever two strangers want to make of it.’

‘Without a tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow I’m gone.’

Well, that was laying it on the line. No future with Zack Freeman. Not that she had had time to even think of one or consider whether it might be desirable.

‘Then I’ll just take this one night experience with the man behind the name,’ she countered, pride insisting that his schedule did not affect her expectations from this blind date, which had been zero before she met him anyway.

Sexual invitation simmered back at her. ‘I wonder if you will.’

She hadn’t meant a one-night stand. Another wretched blush goaded her into being uncharacteristically provocative. ‘You win some. You lose some.’ It was a warning not to assume anything.

He grinned. ‘The game is afoot. And you can’t cut and run because your sister is watching and she’ll kill you if you do.’

She laughed, trying to lighten the effect of a charge of nervous excitement. ‘You think I’m trapped?’

‘Why did you come?’

‘To please Livvy. It’s her birthday.’

‘Then you have a giving nature. That’s a trap in itself, Catherine.’

‘Oh, the giving only goes so far.’

‘What would you take, given the chance?’

‘That’s a big question.’

‘And you don’t intend to answer it yet.’

‘That would spoil the game.’

He laughed, entirely relaxed now and enjoying the flirtation he’d fired up and was stoking with every look and word. ‘I guess we’d better join Livvy and Pete. They’re waiting for us on the steps.’

So they were, paused halfway up the flight of steps to the restaurant and viewing her and Zack with an air of smug satisfaction—the successful matchmakers congratulating themselves on getting it right!

Except this blind date wasn’t going beyond whatever happened tonight.

Remember that, Catherine sternly told herself as she walked beside the man who had every nerve in her body agitated, her heart thumping, her mind bombarded with tempting fantasies.

There is no tomorrow, she recited, meaning it as a sobering caution to be sensible. Yet somehow it had the perverse effect of inciting a sense of wild recklessness—a desire to take what she could of Zack Freeman while she could. To have him. All he’d give her. If only for one night.