Breaking His Rules Page 2

  It took a second to track. Oh, she was good. She’d picked up on my attempted save and ran with it. Quite convincingly, at that. “Just a couple of days,” I said, seizing the opportunity to inhale her lovely floral scent blended with vanilla notes in her hair. I had to fight a nearly losing battle to keep my hands at the center of my back and not run them the length of her body.

  “Oh my gosh,” she said, pulling away with a look of concern in her eyes. “I wish I’d known. I’m not free for the rest of the week. You know what…” she said, turning slightly but leaving one of her arms entangled in mine. “Daniel, do you mind if I take a rain check on brunch today? I can give you a call to reschedule. You understand, don’t you? I haven’t seen Brian here in years.”

  “Bret,” I whispered, followed by a cough.

  “Bret,” she said, her voice going up an octave, “and I are very old friends and I haven’t seen him since college.”

  Christ, she was still holding on to me. My pulse was racing, and not from the possibility of getting into a fistfight, which was not at all what I’d had in mind when I came to my weekly haunt. It was her. It was as if my entire body revved up from her touch—everything everywhere was tensed and ready.

  “So you’re just gonna end our date just like that? I had a whole day planned for us.” The guy, Daniel or whatever, looked genuinely hurt by the abruptness of the episode. If I hadn’t seen him in his true persona, I would have thought him the victim in the whole thing.

  “No hard feelings, mate. Honestly, if I weren’t leaving soon, I’d say we could do this another time.” I gave him the wide-eyed innocent stare I saved for secretaries when I barged into offices without an appointment. At least in their case, I gave them flowers and lunch. This bloke got nothing, except his date swooped up right from his clutches. I make him sound rather evil, but I had my suspicions he wasn’t far from my portrayal.

  “Yeah, all right, Terra. I guess I understand. Give me a call, why don’t ya? We’ll try for next weekend.” He was practically growling the words.

  “Sure, I’ll do that. Thanks for understanding.” She blinked at him, long lashes fanning in a look that was both apologetic and sexy as hell. Okay, maybe that wasn’t what she was going for, but it was surely what I took from it.

  “Thanks, Daniel. I really appreciate your understanding,” I added to emphasize how sorry we both were—truly.

  And I was. Because this was the type of woman I’d been warned of before. My father used to tell me anyone who can make you change the way you behave was the one. Presumably, the one was something to avoid. Someone who could leave you in an alcoholic stupor for years after her death. I shrugged the whole thing off as Mr. Winkled Suit made his exit. He loitered for a bit near the bar, I guessed to settle up on the drinks that were on the table.

  “So, I’m guessing I should take a seat here to continue our ruse?” I asked, holding my hand out in the direction of the recently vacated chair opposite her.

  “Yes…and thank you,” she said. She looked up at me with hazel eyes that flashed with intellect and cunning. Something else lingered beneath the surface, but one look at her and I knew I should run in the opposite direction.

  It was time to release her; otherwise, it would have gotten awkward. I slipped my arm from her and cupped her hand in both of mine for a moment, if only to touch her once more. After our encounter, I’d never touch her again. For some reason, that made me sad.

  I held her chair out for her and watched as she slid into the seat, then took myself, along with my inner conflict over whether to pursue her, to the other side of the table. It was set with pink peonies, one of my mother’s favorite flowers oddly enough, and white tablecloths and napkins with gold napkin rings. They were the same as the larger tables, but more intimate. In all the times I’d been to Soar, I’d never once sat at a table. I glanced back up to my bartender friend and waved him over, hoping he’d bring my drink. He merely gave a nod acknowledging he’d seen me. It was more than I expected, but maybe something I’d done made him a touch more sympathetic to my cause.

  Returning my attention to the woman who so brilliantly threw me off guard every time I looked at her, I smiled. “Now that we no longer have an audience, I hope that wasn’t too forward of me. It looked as if you could use some assistance.”

  “Too right. He was getting a touch too handsy. It was like lunch with an octopus. Last blind date for me.”

  “Oh, I was afraid you’d been catphished.”

  She’d been taking a sip of what looked like sparkling water when I said it and nearly spit it out. She took a deep swallow and let out the cutest laugh on the planet. “Oh my god, no. Just to be clear,” she said, taking a break to laugh again, “I don’t date men for how they look. I was set up by an old friend who is best friends with the man. If you could imagine. He was so sweet on the phone. In person, he was a complete narcissist. And insisted tonight end with a…happy ending, for lack of a better term.”

  “Well, I was about to apologize for barging in, but now that I know he’s a complete jerk, I’m sorry, but I’m not sorry at all.” I said.

  She laughed in a light and airy tone that was surprising. “Yeah, I’m not sorry, either. I do feel bad, though. Weren’t you checking out that group of ladies on the other side of the room?” She waved her hand in my direction and a pleasant floral scent filled me. I was already on the verge of becoming enchanted by her. I didn’t need her to add any more enticement. She was enough on her own.

  A brilliant smile tugged at her lips. I had a feeling she noticed my eyes lingering over her lips and that I’d been quiet entirely too long. “What?”

  “Nothing. You just…you just look like someone I once knew,” I said. It wasn’t actually a lie. There was an actress in an old Eddie Murphy movie my friends and I used to watch who looked just like her. Except…except this woman before me was more beautiful than…than perhaps anyone I’d ever met. Or seen alive. Ever.

  I took a moment to look at her fully again.

  She was an astonishing woman. Her curly hair fell in thick ringlets over her shoulders, and oval-shaped, honey-colored eyes danced with vaguely camouflaged amusement. Her high cheekbones led down to full lips, and she was easily the most gorgeous woman in the entire room. I looked back over at my previously identified prey for the evening and found she had returned to chattering with her friends. It would take me a little while to regain her attention, but—

  “She doesn’t seem like your type,” she said.

  I wasn’t too stupid (although that was debatable) to know I’d managed to make her uncomfortable. “Pardon? Who—”

  “The woman over there. Since I had all the time in the world with Daniel, I noticed you looking in her direction. I thought you’d be into someone…I don’t know…younger maybe,” she said.

  Experience taught me to stall a bit when caught in a web. I gave her my best innocent smile, instead.

  “Listen,” she continued. “I’m obviously exploring the singles scene just like you, honey, so no worries. As soon as I shook Mr. Touchy-Feels, I was set, and now I can happily leave you to your pregame activities,” she said, bobbing her head in the direction of Daniel, asshole. “Trust me, she’s not going to let you get out of here unscathed. The moment I leave, she’ll hightail it over here and pounce. Probably did you a favor by saving you the well-timed scamp over to her bathroom trip. Nice accent, by the way. Authentic or acquired?”

  I couldn’t help the smile that formed on my lips. This time it was natural. Just as the waitress brought my drink from the bar, I grabbed the glass in an effort to ground myself to something, since I was spiraling out of control. I took a sip, and as the liquid burned its way down my gullet, I managed to wipe all amusement from my face. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t I? Look, I don’t care one way or another, but—” She stopped for a quick g
lance in the opposite direction and my eyes followed her. She was looking at Daniel, who’d chosen to take another trip around where we sat in a very territorial manner after settling the check. “Here he comes. The man doesn’t quit, right? I can still feel his paws on my backside. A real charmer, that one.”

  I surveyed the guy for another few beats before deciding that he reminded me too much of my father. Leaning forward on the table, I took the manicured hand resting closest to me, picked it up, and kissed it. With a flip of my eyes, I saw the wanker slow his roll, nearly as if he wanted to head in the opposite direction.

  The lovely Terra turned to face me, her easy, albeit fake, smile warming me inside even more than the liquor. She was in no way my type, and broke every single rule I had. Too young and too pretty equaled a bunch of work, for which I didn’t have the time or inclination. “Thank you,” she said in nearly a whisper. Hmmm…I’d have to try another kiss again later to see if it was actually working or if she was just grateful to be rescued.

  It took a bit longer for me to release her hand. I hadn’t yet when she slid it from my grip just as the man arrived at the table. “Anything for you, sweetheart,” I said, a little louder so the fat rat could hear.

  “Hey, Terra. I’ll call you, huh?” He was downright squinting when I looked up at him. Like he wanted to say more.

  “Sure, Daniel. Talk soon,” she said, still smiling sweetly. I knew it was a lie, but it would have been hard as hell to prove.

  With a nod, Daniel fled the scene, trailing his dignity behind him.

  Damn, she was pretty. If I were in Daniel’s shoes, I would have taken another trip around, too.

  “Thanks again…I, uh, owe you one.”

  “You don’t owe me anything,” I said. I could possibly slip and fall into those eyes. She wore a low-cut black top revealing a lot of cleavage for Sunday afternoon. But then again, she was obviously out to catch someone. Maybe a benefactor to pay for those oodles of curls and clearly expensive lipstick. None of my business. How many times would I have to remind myself to back away from this gorgeous dynamite with a lit fuse?

  “I do. Listen, I’m getting us a drink. Something tells me you ain’t missing nothing with the golden girl across the room. Good-looking guy like you probably has a hundred more of those, all in different phases of nonrelationship. Andrea,” she called out, waving her elegant hand to catch the waitress’s attention as she reset a table across the room.

  The girl hurried over and gave her a bright smile…almost too bright. Maybe she was a good tipper. Although it was my first time seeing her, she could have been a regular. “Hi again, did you need a menu or anything?”

  Before she could say anything, I jumped in. “Yes, please get me and this lovely lady a round. That beautiful man over there,” I said, waving my glass toward the absolute behemoth at the bar, “knows what I’m drinking.”

  “I’ll take a sextini,” she said. She smiled at the young woman, and a pink tongue tip darted out, wetting her matte-red lipstick, which in turn whet something deep inside my soul.

  Christ, surely the charge that went through me was from being struck by lightning and not a well-placed lip lick. “Go big or go home, right?” Was that lilacs I smelled? Shit, she even smelled great.

  “Coming up,” Andrea said.

  My brow cocked, I glanced over at her. “Sextini?”

  “Off menu and a personal joke between me and the owner,” she explained. Her slight smirk let me in to something personal and funny as hell lighting across her brain.

  I couldn’t help but steal a peek over at my other friend. She was looking at me, and right there, I had the option to continue my pursuit of her by holding up the infamous one-moment finger sign or to call it off. With a dumb-ass shrug, I did just that. A shame, too. She had probably already come up with a string of Pilates-inspired sexual positions for us to try later that evening. But the girl in front of me could be a fun distraction. She looked to be close to my age. She was fashionable and hip. But no one I would get involved with, since she was clearly at the top of the food chain. It would take years to get out of her clutches, and no one wanted to end up destroyed in someone’s wake.

  “So, exactly what is your—”

  Damn, she’d made me lose part of my normal routine. “I’m Ashton. Ashton Lyle. Rescuer of damsels, at your service.”

  “Hey now, I’m not into the whole distress part of that statement.” She waved her hand as if swatting at an imaginary bug. “And now that that’s settled, what do you do for a living…besides being a self-professed rescuer of damsels?”

  “Sales. I’m in pharmaceuticals. Not a professional fake boyfriend.”

  “Oh. I can see that. I work at Club Ivy.”

  “And I can see that. Club Ivy, huh?”

  “Yeah. Been there?”

  “Oh no. I’m not exactly the club type.”

  “Really? That’s new. What type are you then? Oh wait. Let me guess…”

  I watched as her eyes lit with mischief and her mouth curved into an absolutely outstanding smirk. “Go on, then. I’m all ears.” I leaned on my elbow, tilting my head, and waited to be dazzled.

  “Well, you frequent fine establishments like this and pick up older women. Those who are merely happy to catch a few hours with someone so handsome and so very devil-may-care. They’re usually so grateful they have no other expectations than you bringing that pretty face, among other things, to the party. Am I close?”

  Spot the fuck on. “Not even a little bit. I happen to enjoy a few casual acquaintances, but the strict prescription you suggest is, well…a little on the wolfish side, don’t you think?” I crossed my legs in reaction to the nerves bundling in my belly.

  “That shoe doesn’t fit, huh…Cinderella?”

  “Here you go,” the waitress said as she set the fresh glasses before us on the white linen–covered table. She was speaking only to her, something that annoyed the shit out of me for some reason.

  “Thank you,” she said with a wink.

  Oh, FFS. “Yes, thank you. Your service is exemplary, really.”

  She didn’t comment. Only gave her own wink and turned to leave. Jackass.

  “So I’m way off? Marginally? Tell me, I’m dying to know.” She smiled before taking a sip from the long straw in the tall glass.

  “Off? Not even in the same stratosphere. I’m a wine connoisseur, you see. These French places have the very best to offer in the city.”

  “Which is why you’re sitting there with one and a half glasses of Maker’s Mark?”

  “Do you answer every comment with another question? This could get exhausting.”

  “I’m sure it’s not the type of exhaustion you’d planned on this evening, but here we are. So tell me, why haven’t you been to the hottest club in town yet?”

  “I just don’t like them. Too many barely-out-of-puberty women and clowns who want to impress them with Daddy’s Beemer and untailored suits straight off the clearance racks. It’s all a bit much once you’re out of your twenties.”

  “Umm-hmm.” She crossed one hand over the other atop the table and leveled a skeptical stare.

  “What the hell is that? Well, go on then…Have at it.” I held my own hands wide on the table and tried hard to appear hurt by her unstated assessment of me.

  “I think it’s what I said earlier. Why fight through a sea of vultures when the real heavy hitters are at home by then? Best catch them at brunch where their guards are low from all the champagne consumption.”

  “Lady, you are seriously into busting my balls. Here, let me bend over. It’ll give you easier access. Those stilettos have ball sack written all over them. C’mon. Take your best shot.” I was out of the chair in a matter of seconds, preparing to bend over in front of the most exquisite sight I’d ever laid eyes on.

  Her laughter stopped me i
n my tracks and I turned back to face her, the infectious smile she wore latching on to things inside of me and jostling them about.

  “Stop it. You’re going to make me pee my pants,” she said, still laughing at the sight of me.

  “I mean it. Really. You should take up archery or sharpshooting, because all I’ve done since I sat down next to you is cater to you, yet you still shoot your shots, landing them right on target. I even saved you from a charging bull and you won’t cut me any slack.”

  I took my seat and killed the last of my first drink, moving the empty vessel to the middle of the table.

  “Yes, and I told you thank you.” She laughed more. “Actually, I’m a very nice person once you get to know me, I’m told. I just call it like I see it.”

  “So how long were you going to let Daniel drone on before telling him like it is, or was at least?”

  “Not long. I’m also told I don’t give people a chance to disappoint me. Too guarded, they say. And I was trying, but I’m not into the whole ‘jump my bones because you have a little cash’ thing. I’m more old-fashioned than that.” When she ran her hand through her absolute mane of coiled perfection, my fingers twitched with the urge to touch the shiny locks…to touch her.

  Resisting the overwhelming urge, I touched my own hair instead and leaned to the side, back far enough to get a peep at the rest of her: long legs clad in black slacks, a neat sweater tucked in at the waist. Her shoes were a pair of high numbers with silver heels that looked like spikes. Probably best used to grind the hearts of men into the concrete. “Uh-huh. I can see that.”

  “Shut up,” she said, laughing again. “I’m going to work at five, so instead of dressing more conservatively, I wore my uniform.”

  “Jesus. Maybe I should go to the clubs more. The sights are…”

  “Charming-ass man. I can’t even imagine the poor souls who’ve lost their hearts to you.”