Читать книгу Unbridled - Tori Carrington, Tori Carrington - Страница 10

OH, YES. This was exactly what Carter was looking for. Laney Cartwright’s heated reaction to his appearance would stroke any man’s ego; to his, it was a much-needed boost.

It wasn’t often his path crossed with women of her class. Just seeing her sitting behind that expensive desk in her navy blue suit, her white-blond hair slicked back into some kind of neat do, baring her pale, elegant neck and what he suspected were real pearls at her delicate lobes—it all spoke of someone used to the better things in life.

Merely looking at her made him feel as if he’d soiled her somehow.

His grin widened. Oh, how he wanted to get her even dirtier still.

Laney looked as if she’d forgotten something and quickly got to her feet. She edged around the desk to face him, wiping her palms on her pencil-thin skirt before extending her right hand. “Where are my manners?” she said with a smile. “Hello, Mr. Southard.” She gave his hand a quick shake, but Carter held on to hers a heartbeat longer. “It’s good to see you again,” she said.

He cocked a brow. “Is it?”

He watched as her initial surprise melted into something much different. Much more dangerous. Although to whom, he couldn’t say.

She leaned against the edge of her desk and crossed her arms over her chest, drawing his gaze there and down to the long line of her legs in another pair of naughty high heels. She pursed her pink lips and considered him with the same naked suggestion that he knew was in his eyes.

Huh. A woman who liked a challenge.

While Carter could honestly say he’d never dated anyone with so much schooling, he had dated a woman or two who engaged him on more than a physical level. And Laney looked as if she could easily wipe them from his memory, set a new benchmark for those who would come after her.

She obviously enjoyed the sexual game of cat and mouse, where it was never quite clear who was the cat and who the mouse, with each of them easily sliding into either role to achieve some undefined objective.

Undefined? Carter took in the expression on Laney’s beautiful face. Oh, no, there was nothing undefined there. Both of them were in it for the kill.

“Violet said you had something important to discuss?” she asked.

“Mmm. Yes. Important.”

He stepped nearer to her, catching the subtle scent of magnolias. She smelled like heaven and he wanted to visit for a while. He reached out and fingered a soft curl that had escaped her do, then met her gaze, moving in closer still. He watched with a mixture of amusement and fascination as her pupils dilated in her blue, blue eyes. He guessed she wasn’t used to such bold moves, and he liked that he’d still managed to knock her slightly off-kilter. Although he didn’t expect her to remain that way for long.

He lowered his chin and then brought it up slowly, making it evident that he was smelling her…and that he liked what he found. The top of his nose brushed against her cheek and she gasped slightly.

He stepped back, holding her gaze captive with his. “I’m a man who always honors his debts and I’ve come to pay mine.”

Laney blinked. “Debt…oh.” She appeared to have momentarily forgotten the circumstances of their first meeting. “All expenses surrounding your release have been taken care of.”

“Too vague. Who took care of the debt, Laney?”

“Mr. Armstrong.”

“And your connection to him would be?”

“Client.”

“Strictly?”

She smiled. “I don’t see how that impacts the situation, Mr. Southard.”

“Carter, please.” He was tempted to press his thigh between her legs, force her skirt up and pin her against that expensive desk of hers right there before the window. But he planned to drag the hot anticipation out as long as he could.

Besides, he wasn’t sure how far he could push her before she picked up the phone and called for security.

“Answer my question,” he insisted. “Brother?”

A corner of her mouth turned up. “Cousin.”

“Judging from your name, I’m guessing your mother’s side?” He cleared his throat. “Unless Cartwright is your married name.”

The other side of her mouth edged up until she was nearly smiling. “My mother’s side.”

He enjoyed the way she answered the question without answering the question.

Was she married? She wore no ring, but he’d met plenty of women who didn’t. Whether it was a barmaid trying to encourage better tips from customers who thought she was single and therefore free game, or a taxi driver who didn’t want to risk losing her ring at gunpoint, there were all sorts of reasons why women chose not to advertise their marital status.

Of course, a woman like Laney Cartwright wouldn’t want to promote it because the less you knew about her, the better leverage she had.

Carter looked forward to compromising that power in every way that he could.

Laney seemed to realize that the scales were tipped a little too heavily in his favor. So he wasn’t surprised when she walked back to the other side of her desk, breaking eye contact with him.

He half expected her to end the meeting. To give up the ghost and realize that indulging in a sexual duel with him benefited her not at all. Instead, she said, “I was about to head for lunch. Would you like to join me?”

He squinted at her.

She pressed the intercom button before he responded. “Violet? Have Raphael’s ready a table for two for lunch, please.”

And just like that the scales tipped back to her.

LANEY GREETED the maître d’ with a kiss to both cheeks, as if seeing an old friend. Which, in essence, she was, since she took so many of her meals at the exclusive French restaurant.

“Miss Laney, how especially beautiful you look today. I was afraid I would not see you after your secretary called earlier to cancel your luncheon plans.”

Pierre darted glances Carter’s way, as if half hoping that during the conversation Carter would disappear.

“I have your favorite table all ready for you, Ms. Cartwright.”

Laney swept her hand toward Carter. “Pierre, this is Mr. Southard. He’ll be dining with me today.”

She didn’t need to say more. Pierre looked as if someone had just hit him in his snobbish head with a two-foot-long salami. And Carter stared back at him as if he didn’t know whether to greet Pierre or hit him. He appeared prepared for both.

Laney hid her smile as Pierre explained to Carter that the restaurant had a dress code and asked if he wouldn’t mind choosing a suitable jacket from an array they had in the cloakroom.

Laney twisted her lips, pretending that she didn’t notice Carter’s discomfort while challenging him to react in the way he’d like to. Namely, storm out of the uptight place.

Instead, he motioned for Pierre to lead the way.

Moments later, he came out wearing a bright green blazer bearing the crest of an exclusive club on the breast pocket and a bright yellow tie. Laney couldn’t help laughing behind her hand. Not just at the garish combination, but at Pierre’s chagrin and Carter’s wide grin.

Pierre appeared exasperated as he led them to a table to the left, away from the kitchen and in front of the window, but he could do nothing as he watched Carter take the seat smack-dab where anyone passing could see him.

“Thank you, Pierre,” Laney said after he pulled out the other chair for her.

He usually thanked her back or at the very least told her to enjoy her lunch. This time, he just gave her a little bow and then scurried away as fast as his fashionably decked feet could carry him.

The waiter came immediately, not indicating one way or another whether Carter’s purposely chosen attire affronted him as he offered the wine list. Carter didn’t bother reading it but handed it back and requested a beer in a frosted glass.

Laney did the same.

“I’m impressed,” she said quietly, fingering the rim of her water glass and ignoring the stares from neighboring tables. “I figured you would have turned and left the instant Pierre informed you that you weren’t dressed properly.”

“Then it takes little to impress you.”

She enjoyed it when people acted contrary to her expectations. So few did. She could usually predict exactly what a person would say. And was disappointed when they did. So when she came across the odd man like Carter, she liked to linger in his company. Just to see what he would do next.

The waiter served their beer and then informed them of the specials. Laney didn’t have to look at the menu he handed her. She already knew every dish listed and what she would have. She was surprised when Carter didn’t bother to open his menu, either, instead holding her gaze as the waiter finished with the specials and looked to her.

She ordered salmon with rice and then raised her brow when it was Carter’s turn. He didn’t even blink as he said, “Give me a strip steak, grilled. Baked potato and salad with vinegar and oil. No gravies, no funny stuff I can’t identify. Just give it to me straight up.”

The waiter bowed slightly, took back the menus and disappeared.

If Laney had hoped to outmaneuver him by bringing him here, she’d failed. And she couldn’t have been happier.

“So,” she said, taking a sip of her water, “how is it that you know my cousin Trace?”

Carter grimaced and looked around the nicely appointed room, giving a small finger salute to an older woman nearby who openly stared at him. “He shot me.”

Laney nearly spewed her water over the table. “Pardon me?”

Carter’s grin returned. “I said he shot me.” He formed a gun with his fingers and pulled the trigger. “I have to say that if our positions had been reversed, I’d have done the same thing to him. But I would have hit him so he wouldn’t get back up.”

Laney had heard stories about her mother’s side of the family. “A bunch of rowdy cowboys,” her father would say before launching into a story about rustled cattle or gunfights or land feuds involving the branch of her family that came from the southwest part of the state.

Blake Cartwright was never flippant when telling the tales that had undoubtedly grown longer and longer over the years. Rather, he usually looked envious of a way of life so different from his own upbringing chasing oil with his father. Although occasionally guns had been involved, there had been no real honor in any of the clashes. All the disputes had revolved around money and who would be walking away with it. And it was usually Laney’s grandfather.

Which explained why Laney had never had to worry about anything. She could have attended the best Ivy League colleges in the world, but had instead chosen to go to the University of Texas. Her father had been proud of the move, when she had expected him to argue with her.

Then again, her father had never acted the way she anticipated, either. Much like the man across from her.

Their salads arrived.

“To be honest with you, Ms. Cartwright—”

“Laney, please.”

“Any outstanding debt is only part of the reason why I requested to see you today.”

She folded a few spinach leaves onto her fork with the aid of her knife. “Oh?”

Carter took a bite of his salad, and then wiped his mouth with his napkin, resting his elbow on the table as he chased the greens with water. “Christ, they’re feeding me cow food. I feel like I should be grazing.”

She laughed.

He pushed his plate away and took a bread roll instead, slathering it with butter. Laney found her gaze riveted as he put the extra large bite into his mouth, chewing without much regard for etiquette. A man who was obviously hungry for more than what was on the table in front of him.

“I want you to help get me reinstated into the Corps.”