Читать книгу An Heir For The Billionaire - Kat Cantrell - Страница 8

Three

The dress Nora had chosen for her date with Reid—or rather the dress Eve and Gracie had bullied her into wearing—should’ve been be illegal.

Actually, if she moved the wrong way, it would be.

The plunging neckline hit a point well below her breasts and the fabric clung to every curve Nora had forgotten she had. Simple and black, it was more than a cocktail dress. It was a dress that said: I’m here for what comes after dinner.

Nora was not okay with that message. Or maybe she was. No. She wasn’t.

“I can’t wear this,” she mumbled again.

“You can and you are,” Eve countered. Again. “I’ve only worn it one time. No one will recognize it.”

As if committing a fashion faux pas was the most troublesome aspect of this situation.

Part of the problem was that Nora liked the way she looked in the dress. The other part of the problem was that Nora didn’t have the luxury of sticking around for what came after dinner, if she even had a mind to be available for...that. She had Declan. Her son made everything ten times more complicated, even what should have been a simple dinner with an old friend.

A friend whose very gaze had touched places inside her that she hadn’t known existed. Until now, she hadn’t realized how very good it felt to be the object of a man’s interest. Sean had loved her and of course had paid attention to her, but this was something else. Something with a tinge of wicked. Purely sexual. It was exhilarating and frightening at the same time.

She practiced walking in front of the full-length mirror affixed to the closet in the master suite of her father’s guesthouse. Yep. If she stumbled, her bare nipples would peek out with a big ole hello. So she wouldn’t stumble.

Eve fastened a jewel-encrusted drop necklace around Nora’s neck. “Perfect. It draws attention exactly where it should. To your neckline.”

“It’s like a big arrow that points to my boobs.” Nora tried to shorten the chain but Eve took the necklace out of her hands and let the stone fall back into place in the valley between her breasts.

“Yes. This is not a date with a guy you met at church,” Eve advised her. “Reid Chamberlain has a well-earned reputation. He doesn’t invite women into his private domain. What few he’s spent time with are very hush-hush about it, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that he’s giving these women a ride worth keeping their mouths shut over. You are beautiful and have something to offer. Make him aware of it and then make him work for it.”

Gracie nodded as Nora swallowed. “It’s not like that. We’re old friends.”

Eve took a flatiron from the vanity to their right and fussed a bit more with Nora’s hair. “Yeah, well, I’ve known Reid a long time and he’s never asked me to dinner.”

Eve and Reid hadn’t been friends, though.

Nora’s history with Reid gave her one up on all these other women whom he hadn’t asked on a date. When Nora had labeled it as such, she’d hoped that would dispel some of the confusion. It was always better to call a spade a spade, and it was clear—to her at least—that there was something simmering between herself and Reid. And dinner was A Date, she had no doubt.

Nora didn’t date. She hadn’t dated anyone since she’d met Sean nearly ten years ago. The only reason she had even agreed to this one was because Reid was a friend. It afforded her a measure of comfort to think about jumping back into the pool with someone she knew. Someone she’d always had a crush on.

Except the way he looked at her... She shivered. There was a lot more than friendship in his dark, enigmatic gaze. Tonight was a chance to finally see what it was like to be with Reid and not think of him as “just” a friend. The real question was whether she’d act on the undercurrents or chicken out. Nora hadn’t had sex in over two years. What if she’d forgotten how?

“Reid is not some mysterious guy with a shady reputation,” Nora insisted, but it was mostly to convince herself.

He was different. She’d definitely noticed that earlier today. Darker, more layered. But she’d gotten the distinct impression he needed to connect with someone—her. Perhaps for the same reason she’d agreed to the date in the first place. They had a history. Being in his presence today had brought back some good memories. No reason that couldn’t continue.

“Nora, honey, you’ve been away from Chicago for a long time.” Eve wrangled the same lock of hair until she got it the way she wanted it. “Trust me, I’ve crossed paths with him a few times now that I’m taking a more active role in the inner workings of Elite. He was short with me, all business. He’s like that with everyone. Except you, I guess.”

“He runs a billion-dollar company,” Nora said faintly. “You of all people should know that means you can’t be Mr. Pushover, especially not in meetings.”

Gracie shook her head and added, “Just be careful. The girl who does my nails is convinced he pays off the women he dates. Word is that he’s got some very unusual...tastes. Things he prefers in the bedroom. Things that are not fit to be discussed among polite company. That’s why they never talk about it. They’re well paid to keep quiet and probably don’t want anyone to know they participated.”

“That’s just speculation,” Nora scoffed as her pulse jumped.

What kind of things? Unfortunately, she had a good enough imagination and some of what she envisioned couldn’t be unseen. It was a delicious panorama of poses, featuring Reid Chamberlain in splendorous, naked glory. Not that she’d ever seen him without clothes, but Reid was devastating and gorgeous in a suit. It wasn’t a stretch to assume he’d look good out of one, too. Throw in this new dark and mysterious side? It only added to his appeal. And heightened her nerves.

“Besides, it’s dinner between old friends,” Nora continued, her voice growing stronger as her resolve solidified. Whatever his predilections were in the bedroom, she’d probably never find out. “That’s all. I’m a mom. We don’t incite men’s fantasies.”

And she had to keep Declan forefront in her thoughts. There were no grown-up sleepovers in her future, not when she had a two-year-old who still woke up calling for mama in the middle of the night. This was a thank-you dinner, nothing more. An escape from her father’s scary health problems and the scandal of the inheritance drama.

Eve’s brows quirked as she spun Nora to face the mirror. “Honey, that body is every inch a man’s fantasy, and by the way, you’re a strong, entertaining woman. A man can and will be as attracted to what’s up here—” she tapped Nora’s temple “—as by what’s down here.”

All three Winchester sisters followed Eve’s gesture as she indicated Nora’s torso. Even Nora couldn’t argue that the dress did highlight her curves. Nor could she argue that any man who was worth her time would be attracted to her brain.

“Regardless, I’ll be home by ten,” Nora promised. “Ten thirty at the latest.”

She kissed Declan and left him in Gracie’s capable hands. They settled in to watch cartoons, waving to Nora as she left, nervous as ever.

On the way over to the Metropol, Nora sat ramrod straight in her seat, too edgy to relax. The driver didn’t try to talk to her, which was a blessing.

Her imagination went into overdrive again. If Reid did have unusual tastes...did that automatically mean she’d say no? The thought of being a bit more adventurous than normal with someone she trusted got her a little hot and bothered. Because of course Reid was still Reid. There was nothing anyone could say to convince her that he’d turned into a monster who incited women into submitting to his twisted sexual practices.

Besides, her heart belonged to Sean. Anything that took place with Reid could be left behind once she went home to Colorado. It was freeing to not have the slightest worry about what might happen in the future.

When the concierge snapped for a bellboy to escort her to the penthouse—a different bellboy from last time—she forgot to breathe for a moment as the elevator doors slid shut. This was a one-way ticket to something she had no idea if she was really ready for.

You’re being silly. You have no idea if the rumors are true. No idea if Reid even planned to do anything more than eat dinner. Also? He wasn’t going to hold her prisoner. If she didn’t like where the evening was headed, all she had to do was leave.

Of course, there was always the possibility that she would be on board with more than dinner. Maybe. The jury was still out.

The elevator doors parted, leading to a small alcove with a dazzling white marble floor. She stepped out and faced a closed unmarked door directly opposite the elevator.

“Have a good night, ma’am.” With a silent swoosh of the elevator doors, the bellhop disappeared and then there was nothing left to do but knock.

Except the door opened before she could. Reid stood on the other side, wearing a different suit from earlier. This one had more closely cut lines and a darker hue and showcased his broad shoulders in a way she couldn’t quite ignore. His jaw was shadowed with stubble that lent his handsome face a dangerous edge. Or perhaps she was imagining the edge after her conversation with Grace and Eve.

“Hi, Reid.” Her voice came out all breathless and excited, turning the short phrase into something else entirely.

His gaze slowly traveled down her length, stopping every so often as if he’d run across something worthy of further examination. She felt the heat rise in her exposed chest but she refused to cover herself by crossing her arms. Still, her muscles flexed to do exactly that three times in a row.

“That dress was worth waiting for,” he finally said, his voice as smooth as it had been earlier.

“Waiting for?” She scowled to cover her excitement. Two seconds in and he was already starting the seduction part of the evening, was he? “I wasn’t late. I’m right on time.”

His dark eyes took on a tinge of amusement, but his smile still hadn’t returned. “By my count, I’ve been waiting fifteen years.”

Oh, my. She fell into the possibilities of that statement with a big splat. Had he harbored secret feelings for her way back, as she had for him?

That couldn’t be what he meant. He hadn’t exactly been sitting around pining over her. “What are you talking about? You forgot I existed the second you turned sixteen and your parents gave you that Porsche for your birthday.”

He crossed his arms and leaned on the door frame. “Would you like to continue this argument over a drink, or stay in the hall?”

“You haven’t invited me in yet.”

“I was busy.”

He gave her another sweeping once-over that pulled at her core. And still, he didn’t step aside to allow her to enter his private domain.

She could not get a handle on him, and only part of that stemmed from her sisters’ warnings swirling around in the back of her mind. He’d invited her here, yet didn’t seem to know what to do with her. Maybe she should help him out.

“Well, I’m thirsty,” she informed him with a touch of frost. “So I choose the drink over the hall. You must not entertain much or you’d have already poured me a glass of wine.”

A ghost of a smile played at his lips. “Forgive me, then. I don’t entertain often and my manners are atrocious. Please come in, Ms. O’Malley.”

With that, he stepped aside and swept his hand out. Clearly, she was supposed to take it. So she did.

The moment their flesh connected, awareness sizzled across her skin, raising goose bumps. A bit overwhelmed, she let him lead her into his penthouse.

With a whisper, the door shut behind her, closing her off from the world. And then she saw Chicago lit for the night beyond the glass wall at the edge of Reid’s enormous living room.

“Oh,” she gasped and his hand tightened on hers. “That’s an amazing view.”

Neon and stars, glass and steel, as far as the eye could see. The world was still out there, but they were insulated from it up here, high above the masses.

“I totally agree,” he said quietly and she glanced at him.

His gaze, hot and heavy, was locked on her. Unblinking. Unsettling.

“You’re not even looking.” And then she realized what he meant and heat flushed her nearly exposed breasts again. “Um, didn’t you promise me a drink?”

“I did. Come with me.”

Apparently loath to let go of her hand, he led her to a wet bar where an uncorked bottle of wine stood next to two wineglasses. From that vantage point, she could see into the dining room, where a long table was set for two.

“Your servants have been busy,” she commented as he finally dropped her hand to pour the red wine, filling each glass far past the line she’d have said would be an acceptable amount for a lightweight drinker such as herself.

But then, Reid didn’t really know that about her.

“I gave my servants the night off.” He handed her a glass and when she took it, he held his up in a quick toast. “To old friends.”

She nodded and tossed back a healthy swallow. How she got the wine down her throat was beyond her; he hadn’t taken his eyes off her once since she’d walked through the door and her self-consciousness was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

They were alone in this penthouse where no one could enter unless they had a special key for the elevator. Blessedly, deliciously alone. Should she be frightened? She wasn’t.

Reid had gone to some trouble in anticipation of her arrival. The ambiance was sensual, edgy and quite delicious. All hard things to come by as a widowed single mom. Maybe she was far more wicked than she should be, but Reid made her feel beautiful and desirable and she wasn’t going to apologize for liking it.

“Tell me something,” she said impulsively, suddenly interested in picking up the thread of their conversation from the hallway. “You said you’d been waiting fifteen years for me to show up. What did you mean?”

He cocked his head, tossing a few curls into disarray, and she liked that he wasn’t one of those men who used a ton of hair products. She could slide her fingers through his hair easily.

The thought warmed her further. That would be bold, indeed, if she just reached out and touched him. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do it.

“Our friendship means something to me. I...didn’t ever tell you that.”

“Oh.” A bit thunderstruck, she stared at him as the lines around his mouth grew deeper, expressing more than what his words had. Was he disappointed that he’d never told her for some reason? “That’s okay, Reid. We developed other friendships and went on.”

“You did. I didn’t.”

His cryptic words perplexed her. “You mean you didn’t make other friends? But you were always with the popular crowd, piling into each other’s cars after school and leaving dances or football games together to go someplace more exciting. Or at least that’s always how I imagined it.”

Reid shrugged slightly. “I passed the time with them. That’s all.”

Things weren’t as they appeared back when they’d been in high school? Her heart turned over with a squish. “Sounds like you were a recluse in training, even then.”

If things weren’t as they appeared back then, what’s to say the same wasn’t true now?

His expression darkened. “In a way. I’ve never had much luck connecting with people.”

“Except me.”

Bold. But she didn’t take it back. They’d been dancing around each other and she wanted to get on with the evening, whatever that entailed.

Their gazes met and he watched her as he sipped his wine, neither confirming nor denying the statement.

Go bold or go home. It was her new mantra, one she wanted to embrace all at once.

“Is that why you invited me to dinner?” she asked with a small smile. “Because you’re lonely?”

* * *

“There’s a difference between being lonely and desiring to be alone,” Reid countered.

“That doesn’t really answer my question, now does it?”

Nora was so close, Reid could easily count the individual strands of hair—honey wheat, warm sand, a few shoots of platinum—draped over her shoulder. He suspected it would be cool to the touch if he slid a strand through his fingers.

Dinner had been a mistake.

He’d wrongly thought that he and Nora would catch up, talk a bit about the past, that it would be an innocent opportunity to reminisce about an easier time. Before his world had crashed around his feet. He’d craved that with blinding necessity.

Instead, he’d spent the ten minutes she’d been in his penthouse trying desperately to keep his hands occupied so he didn’t pull her into his arms to see if she tasted as good as she smelled. To see exactly what was under that black dress that showcased a body he hadn’t remembered being so difficult to ignore.

You didn’t seduce an old friend the moment she crossed your threshold. It was uncivilized and smacked of the kind of thing a man with his reputation would do. He’d done his share of perpetuating the myths surrounding his wickedness, mostly because it amused him.

Nora deserved better.

The problem was he had no interest in eating. At all. He’d developed an intense fixation with the hollow between Nora’s breasts, which were scarcely contained by the bits of fabric that composed her dress.

You didn’t stare at an old friend’s rack, no matter how clearly she was inviting you to.

There were probably some other rules he should be reciting to himself right about now, but hell if he could remember what they were.

It had been too long since he’d had a woman in his bed; that was the problem. Nora Winchester O’Malley shouldn’t be the one inciting him to break that fast. If he wanted to make the evening about catching up with an old friend, that was in his power to do.

“You’re right,” he allowed with a nod. “I didn’t answer the question. I invited you to dinner because I wanted to thank you for being a good friend to me. The scales were unbalanced.”

“Oh.” Disappointment shadowed her gaze but she blinked and it was gone. “So dinner was motivated by the need to say thank you. For both of us, it seems.”

“It seems.”

That should have dispelled the sensual, tight awareness between them. That had been his intent. But she smiled and it lit up her face, inviting him in, warming up the places inside that had been cold since the plane crash that had changed everything.

“I feel properly thanked. Do you?” she asked.

“For what?” he nearly growled as he fought to stop himself from yanking her into his arms.

“For the food, silly.” Her hands fisted on her hips. “That’s the whole reason I asked you to dinner, remember?”

Yes, he did. They were two old friends. Nothing more. He had to remember that her labeling it a date might not mean the same thing to her as it did to him.

“Everyone has been properly thanked.” He drained his wineglass and scouted for the bottle. The bite of the aged red centered him again. “Are you ready to eat?”

“Depends on what you’ve got on the menu.”

His gaze collided with hers and yes, she’d meant that exactly the way it sounded. Her smile slipped away as they stared at each other, evaluating, measuring, seeking. Perhaps he’d been going about this evening all wrong and the best course of action was to let their sizzling attraction explode.

But he couldn’t help but think that if that happened, he’d miss out on the very thing he’d craved—friendship.