If he Only Knew…
Debbi Rawlins

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Epilogue

Prologue

H EADS TURNED toward the door of Mist, the chic Manhattan bar where high-priced attorneys hung out after work and didn’t mind paying twenty bucks for a peach martini. Brisk early-spring air rushed into the cozy burgundy-accented room, but that wasn’t what commanded the attention of the tony crowd.

Sara Wells’s heart started a slow, torturous pounding. She didn’t have to look to know who’d just walked in. The last person she’d expect to come to her going-away party. Why would he? After all, she’d been a lowly temporary worker. Showing up wouldn’t help his career or get him in tomorrow’s society pages. And that was about all Cody Shea seemed to live for.

Even so, she’d foolishly wished with all her heart he’d show up. That she’d see him just one more time before she got on that plane tomorrow. God, but she wanted to look. Of course she wouldn’t stoop to even the tiniest peek.

“I want you to know that if you change your mind, the job is still yours.” Dakota, who’d been her boss until an hour ago, slid into a seat across from Sara at the small table.

“What? Oh, um, thanks.” With incredible willpower, she kept her eyes away from the door and stared at the huge green concoction Dakota had set in front of her. Chunks of salt clung to the rim of the glass. “A margarita?”

“You haven’t had a margarita until you’ve had one here.”

Not that she’d tell Dakota, but in truth, she hadn’t had a margarita. She stuck with wine. White, mostly. A glass with dinner since she was seventeen. But not during the last ten months she’d been living in New York. With rent being what it was, she hadn’t been able to afford wine. Not the good stuff, anyway. And she’d rather drink tap water than cheap wine.

Dakota touched her hand, and Sara met her eyes. “I hope Cody isn’t the reason you’re leaving New York.”

“No,” she said truthfully. Her year of “dangerous” living was up. It was time to go home. She sighed. “Does everyone in the office know about my silly crush?”

“No, not even my idiotic brother.” Her smile turned into a slight frown. “Although Cody has been acting pretty strange for the past couple of months.” She gave a small shake of her head. “I told him some of us were coming here for a farewell drink, but I wouldn’t count on him showing up.”

Sara couldn’t help it then. She turned her head slightly, enough to see Cody in his navy blue Alexander McQueen suit, standing at the black polished bar, listening to another attorney from the firm. Staring at her.

Their gazes collided. He didn’t smile. Didn’t look away. Just stared.

Dakota’s gaze followed. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

Sara swung back around to face Dakota, her breathing obstructed by the growing lump in her throat. God, she didn’t understand him one bit. Staring at her like that in front of everyone.

“Won’t this be the topic of conversation in the office on Monday?” Dakota said, her gaze moving between Sara and her brother.

“Glad I won’t be there.” Sara’s mouth was so dry the words almost didn’t come out. She picked up the margarita and took a long cool sip. It was surprisingly good, and not just because she was parched.

Dakota’s lips curved in a wry smile. “Sure you don’t want to stay?”

Sara nodded. “Not that you haven’t been the best boss ever.”

“That could get you a raise.” Dakota studied her for a moment. “You really should think about finishing law school. If tuition is a problem, the firm would—”

Sara shook her head, wanting to tell Dakota the truth. That she not only didn’t need the money, but that she already had her law degree. That most people went to Europe when they graduated, footloose and fancy-free, but that Sara had chosen instead to come to New York and get a traditional job for traditional pay, just to see what it was like to be normal. To not be Sara Wellington, at least for a while. Of course, it didn’t matter now. Tomorrow she’d be on the first flight back to Atlanta. Back to her real life. She supposed she could tell Dakota who she really was, but that would just invite a lot of questions, and frankly, answering them was the last thing she wanted to face at her going-away party.

“Okay, no pressure. I just wanted—” Dakota’s smile widened as she looked past Sara. “Tony’s here. I asked him to stop by.”

“Good. I’d like to say goodbye.” Sara looked over her shoulder. Cody was the first person she saw. Standing closer this time, talking to a paralegal two tables away.

He looked over at Sara and a slight smile lifted the corners of his mouth. She quickly turned away, suddenly warm and not so thrilled he’d come. What would it accomplish? Except to make her wish that they’d had a chance to get to know each other.

But then he would never allow that to happen. Careful about his image and personal life, Cody liked to keep himself removed from the rest of the staff. He was good at it, too. No one would think of approaching him unless it was work-related and absolutely necessary. People who’d worked with him for years didn’t really know him.

Sara’s perception of him had changed one night after hours when she’d overheard him talking to his secretary. The woman had been crying.

Sara’s first reaction was outrage but as she listened she realized the tears had been in gratitude. Cody had spent his own money and time to track down her ex-husband and secure the woman’s delinquent child support payments. His only condition was that the woman agree never to speak of it again.

After that, everything changed, at least in Sara’s eyes. Too bad he never let others see that human side of him. Did he think it made him look weak?

Soft jazz filled the air, and Sara tried to focus on the soothing sound of the keyboard and not Cody. Socializing, talking to his subordinates. Being human. Reminding her of that night four months ago. Better to remember that than if they had hooked up, then leaving would be a hundred times more difficult than it already was.

“I don’t think Tony sees us. I’ll go get him.” Dakota got up. “We’ll be right back.”

Sara nodded, and feeling her throat tighten again, picked up the margarita. The icy coldness soothed the inside of her mouth and the heat that had started in her chest. Now would be the perfect time for Cody to approach her.

The thought had barely crossed her mind when she felt him behind her. She forced herself to breathe as she pulled back her shoulders.

“Hey, Sara.” Wrong voice. It was one of the junior attorneys from the firm who claimed Dakota’s seat.

“Oh, Barry.” What did he want? He’d hardly said a dozen words to her in the past six months.

He hesitated. “You expecting someone?”

“Dakota went to get her fiancé.” Sara casually glanced over her shoulder, ostensibly to look for Dakota. Cody was gone. She twisted all the way around. No sign of him.

“I just wanted to buy you a drink.”

Only a lifetime of Southern hospitality stopped her jaw from dropping to the table. “ You want to buy me a drink?”

He looked a little sheepish and quickly turned to signal the waitress.

“Thanks, Barry, really, but this is going to be my last one.”

“Look, I don’t blame you for being ticked at me. I’ve been a jerk.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

With his caramel-colored eyes and dark hair he was good-looking when he smiled, but that didn’t happen often. “Dakota told me about the screwup you caught on the Clarkson brief. I was pissed at first.”

“Me being a temp and all.”

“Well, yeah,” he said unabashedly. “Then I heard you caught a mistake Margot made, too. Bottom line, you saved my ass.”

Sara shrugged a shoulder. “Not a problem. I had to type it, so of course I noticed.”

He shook his head. “You had to understand the content to notice. Most of the secretaries have been with the firm for years but couldn’t have caught it on a dare. You’re wasting your time. You should be in law school.”

Sara just smiled. Been there. Done that. Yale. Second in her class. But none of these people needed to know that.

Barry studied her for a moment. “You have plans for dinner?”

“I have to pack. Early flight tomorrow.”

“Where are you going again?”

“Atlanta,” Cody answered for her.

Sara and Barry both stared as he pulled out a chair and joined them.

His knee brushed hers and the slight touch sent her pulse skittering. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

Barry looked from him to Sara and then back to Cody. “I didn’t know you hung out here, boss.”

“I don’t.”

After an awkward silence, Barry noisily cleared his throat. “Right.” He pushed his chair back. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll be going.”

Cody didn’t say anything, simply sipped from the glass he’d brought with him.

Barry stood. “Good luck to you, Sara. Travel safely.”

She smiled, and then waited until Barry was out of earshot. “You were rude to him.”

“Was I?” Cody’s gaze narrowed and he seemed genuinely surprised.

“If you hadn’t noticed, we’re at a party. My party.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

She watched him stop a passing waitress and order another scotch, shaking her head when he added a margarita. After the woman left, Sara asked, “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Treat people that way.”

He frowned. “The waitress?”

“No, Barry. Other people in the office.”

He leaned back in the burgundy leather club chair, studying her, amusement in his eyes. “You make it sound like I’m an ogre.”

Sara leaned forward, staying locked on his gaze. He didn’t show surprise at her boldness, but she knew it was there. She’d purposely played the stereotypical Southern belle for the past ten months, sweet and accommodating. But she didn’t have to play a part any longer.

Maintaining eye contact, she said, “Number one, you’re aloof, which makes you inaccessible to your employees, and if you have a sense of humor, you hide it well. Does everything have to be all business all the time?”

It occurred to her in a flash of belated insight that she wasn’t angry about how Cody treated Barry. She was pissed at how he’d treated her. Oh, he hadn’t been mean or anything, but he had to have felt the sparks that ignited every time they were together. His being here was proof that she hadn’t been the only one who’d been smitten. So why now? Why not months ago, when she could have done something about it?

The margarita beckoned as the truth hit her once again. He hadn’t pursued her because he thought she was a secretary. A temporary one, at that.

She sipped her drink, her gaze turned away from his, wishing she had left ten minutes ago. Oh, hell. Who was she to judge Cody for being an arrogant snob? That he had sized her up by her appearance? She certainly wanted him based on his.

“That’s it? That’s the whole lecture?” The right corner of his mouth slowly lifted.

“Yep. That’s the whole thing.” She looked away, planning her exit strategy.

Instead of reaching for her purse, however, she made the mistake of looking at him. Dammit. He was doing it again. Staring at her with a hungry intensity that made her want to throw herself at him. It was that very look that had made the last few months such hell for her. That hunger had met her every time he’d come by her desk to drop off a motion or brief for Dakota. He’d lingered, never talking about anything but work and the weather, but the current had run between them, hotter than a live wire.

His secretary had done everything else for him, including getting his coffee and lunch and dry cleaning. So yes, every trip by her desk had been designed to torment and tease. Yet, he’d never taken the next step.

At first, she’d thought it was because they worked together, but the company had no policy about that. She’d found out that a couple of years ago, Cody had dated an attorney who’d since gone on to another firm. So the precedent had existed.

She simply hadn’t met his standards.

The waitress brought his scotch, and he slipped her some money and told her to keep the change. The tip was a large one judging by the younger woman’s eyes, but she didn’t get a smile with it. Had he ever smiled in his life? Not the kind you gave the camera, or what was expected by a client, but a real spontaneous smile?

He adjusted his red silk tie and for a crazy second she thought he might loosen the knot. “You’re a strange one, Sara Wells.”

She blinked at him, confused. “Me? Why am I strange?”

“I can’t put my finger on it, but something’s…off.”

“Pardon me?”

He chuckled, and at the odd sound coming from his mouth she almost slid off her chair. “I’ve known a lot of legal secretaries in my day, and none of them were like you.”

“What were you expecting?”

He shook his head. “So illusive…” he said, but more to himself than her.

“Is that why you came tonight? For one last chance to get your answers?” she asked.

“Maybe. But mostly I came to say goodbye.”

Her heart skidded at the quietness of his voice. “That happy to be rid of me, huh?”

His expression tightened. “No.”

Uncomfortable, Sara glanced around. Dakota and Tony had sat at another table and they, along with everyone else from the office, seemed to be staring in Sara’s direction.

This was nuts. None of this mattered. Not his voice, not his eyes, not even the reason that she dreamt about him night after night. Tomorrow she’d be gone.

She checked her watch, but it didn’t matter what time it was. “I really need to get going. I have so much packing to do yet.”

He didn’t hide his surprise. “It’s early.”

“So is my flight tomorrow.” She got up and grabbed her purse from where she’d left it on the chair beside her. “I’d better go say goodbye to Dakota and Tony.”

“Wait.”

She took a deep breath and turned back to him. The desire in his eyes totally unsettled her.

“You’ll be coming back to New York sometime, won’t you?”

“I doubt it.”

“I see.” He paused. “Well, you did a fine job for us. Thank you.”

Absurdly disappointed, she smiled. “That’s what you paid me for.”

He nodded slowly, looking as if he had more to say.

“Goodbye, Mr. Shea.”

Without looking back, she hurried over to Dakota, the one person in New York she’d truly miss. “Hey, Tony,” she said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Good to see you.”

“I don’t blame you for ditching my brother,” Dakota said, laughing, as Tony got to his feet. “Here, take my chair,” he said. “I’ll get another one.”

“No.” Sara shook her head and waved Tony back to his seat. “I have to go.”

Dakota’s eyebrows went up. “So soon?” And then her gaze drew to Cody. “Did he—?”

“I have an early flight. That’s all.” Sara smiled. It wasn’t as if she’d be missed. She hadn’t clicked with anyone other than Dakota. Not that Sara didn’t appreciate people stopping by, but she also knew many of them frequented the bar on Fridays anyway. “I’ll call you sometime, okay?”

“I’m counting on it.” Dakota stood and gave her a warm hug. So did Tony. They were great together. Opposites in so many ways. And yet, they made it work. Probably because Dakota, unlike her brother, had taken the time to get to know him, just as she had gotten to know Sara, even though she was just a temporary secretary.

“Okay, I have to go before I start crying like an idiot.” Unexpectedly, the tears had started to burn the back of her eyes, which was stupid because she’d known from the beginning she would be leaving now. Life here had gotten so much more complicated than she’d ever dreamed.

She briefly waved to everyone scattered around the bar, careful not to look at Cody, then rushed to the door. Her heated cheeks welcomed the crisp air and she didn’t care that she had no coat, just her tweed suit jacket.

Two cabs on the corner both had passengers and no others were in sight, so she started walking toward Lexington. The light turned red and she slowed down, wrapping her arms around herself. A huge chapter in her life had just ended. An unsatisfying chapter. Not just because being normal hadn’t been all she’d dreamed it would be, but mostly because of Cody.

“Sara…wait.”

Had she imagined his voice? She looked over her shoulder. Cody hurried toward her, his shoulders hunched against the chill, his hands in his pockets. She couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to. His gaze held her rooted to the spot even as pedestrians swirled around her.

He caught up with her and, taking her by the arm, steered her out of the way toward the bank that took up most of the block. Partially sheltered from the sharp wind that whipped through the canyon of high-rises, she shrunk closer to the gray brick building as she tamped down her foolish hope.

“Did I forget something?” she asked, breathless, annoyed that his face was in shadow.

“No, I did.” He pulled a small Tiffany box out of his pants’ pocket and held it out to her.

“What is it?”

“Open it.”

“But I—” Her heart pounded so hard he had to be able to hear it. All of Manhattan could. “Is this from you?”

He glanced around and pushed a hand through his short, sandy-brown hair. “From the firm. For doing such a good job.”

“Really?” She took the box, her hand shaking a little because she knew he was lying and it made her angry. Couldn’t he be candid for one moment? Not even on her last night in New York?

“Aren’t you going to open it?” he asked when she slipped it into her bag.

“Later.”

He exhaled loudly, cursed, then took a step closer. “It’s from me.”

The smile began in the pit of her stomach and how it managed to pass through the tightness in her chest, she couldn’t imagine. She should be angry. Furious. He was too late. Whatever was in the box would change nothing. Her time was up. She had to go back to Atlanta.

“Aren’t you going to open it?”

She slid her arms around his neck and got up on tiptoe. “This is from me,” she whispered and brought her mouth to his, running her tongue across his lower lip.

His arms came around her and he pulled her against him. He plunged his tongue inside her mouth with passion. She kissed him back with equal intensity even though tears threatened.

Damn him.

She pulled away and was lucky enough to hail a taxi.

She slid inside and wouldn’t look back. What was the point? He’d blown their chance. She’d never see him again.

1

T HE CHIC SALON was still decorated in its signature rose color, each workstation large and private. An abundance of fresh flowers graced the lobby and lounge where juice, Evian and wine were served to the prominent and wealthy clients while they donned silk robes and waited for their grooming services. Not a thing had changed in a year. Only Sara.

“Girl, I don’t know what that guy did to you.”

Sara lifted her horrified gaze to her hairdresser’s reflection in the mirror. How could Chloe possibly know about Cody? No one knew. Except Sara’s sister. And the ladies from Eve’s Apple, the Web site where women went to vent or ask advice about men, anonymously if they chose.

“I could’ve given you a better cut with my eyes closed.”

Sara relaxed. As much as she could. Her nerves were shot from lack of sleep. She’d only been back in Atlanta for a month, but with all the family obligations it seemed like a year.

“I can’t believe you’ve been walking around like this. You should’ve come to see me as soon as you got back.” Chloe’s hair was red this month, her green eyes rimmed with too much black. “Everybody makes a big deal out of New York and L.A. hairdressers. They treat them like frackin’ gurus.” She held up a thick blond lock of Sara’s hair and frowned at the dry ends. “How much did you pay for this highlighting?”

“None of your business.”

“Come on.”

Her experience in New York hadn’t lived up to her expectations. In fact, it’d gone bad. All she’d wanted was to live like anyone else. Earn her keep. What she hadn’t counted on was meeting Cody Shea, and having her life turned upside down. She thought about him way too much as it was, she had no desire to talk about it, not even with Chloe. “Would you forget it, already?”

“How many years have I been doing your hair? How many boyfriends have we gone through together?”

Sara raised her eyebrows.

“Okay, so they were all mine. The point is, I tell you everything.”

“Yes, you do. Whether I want to hear it or not.”

Chloe grinned. “Speaking of which, guess where I’m going tonight?” She paused, and before Sara could hazard a guess, she said, “The French Riviera.”

“Just for the weekend?”

“No, for a whole week. It’s our annual convention.”

“Are we talking hairdressers or nudists?”

“Please.” Chloe set the mixed color solution aside and got out the foil squares. “Like I’d fork out that much money to spend the week with a bunch of prima donnas who think they know more about hair than I do.”

“Of course not.” Smiling, Sara watched her strategically choose strands to highlight and then clip them off to the side.

In the ten years that Sara had known Chloe, she’d gone from a cosmetology graduate to one of Atlanta’s most popular and expensive hairstylists. Admittedly, discovering that Chloe was a nudist had been somewhat of a surprise. Sara couldn’t grasp the attraction. Running around naked, in the stark sunlight, every flaw on full display. The thought alone gave her the vapors.

“Shelby still in Europe?”

“Last I heard. But you know how my sister is.”

“I haven’t read about her in the local papers lately so I figured she was still out of town. Hey, is that a new bracelet?”

Sara automatically touched the row of abstract gold hearts, unwanted memories filling her head. Stupid to even wear the thing, but she hadn’t taken it off since that night. “I got it in New York.”

“But you hate bracelets. You don’t even like wearing a watch.”

“Don’t go too light,” Sara said, eyeing the bowl of color solution Chloe had dipped the brush in and started to work on the pre-selected strands.

“You’re a natural blonde. How light can I go?” Chloe said, as she wrapped a square of foil around the strand.

Sara said nothing. All she’d really wanted to do was distract Chloe from the bracelet. She glanced down at it. Were those really hearts or was that what she wanted to see? She’d browsed in Tiffany’s often, and even had several of the store’s signature gifts given to her tucked away in her drawers, but she’d never seen this style.

“You gonna get that?” Chloe nudged her chin toward the cell phone Sara had left on the counter. The ringing cell phone.

She’d been expecting an important call from her father and grabbed the phone before the call went to voice mail. The second she pushed the button she saw that the call was from New York. Too late. She had to answer. Anyway, it could be Dakota. “Hello?”

“Sara.”

Except that it was Cody. Her throat constricted. For a second she couldn’t speak.

“Sara?”

“Yes.” She looked at Chloe who was staring at her with curiosity. “Um, could you hold on a moment?” She lowered the phone to her side so that he couldn’t hear and struggled to her feet, getting tangled in the cape and tugging it from around her neck.

Brush in midair, Chloe backed out of her way. “What are you doing?”

“I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

Sara didn’t answer. Nor did she acknowledge the stares of the other clients as she hurried through the salon in the pink silk robe and with packets of foil wrapped in her hair. She went past the reception desk and straight out into the street before bringing the phone to her ear again.

“Sorry,” she said, trying to blend into the landscaped courtyard beside the entrance.

“Is this a bad time?” His deep voice went right through her, taking her back to that night. That kiss.

“No, not really. I’m just surprised to hear from you.” She figured Dakota might have called, but never Cody.

“Are you?”

“What?”

“Really surprised?”

“Yes. Really.” She turned her back to a couple strolling by on the sidewalk. When a teenage boy riding a skateboard slowed down near her to stare, she glared at him. “What?”

“I beg your pardon?” Cody asked uncertainly.

“No, not you. It was this kid—”

“This is a bad time.”

“No, I mean—is there anything in particular you wanted?” That came out totally wrong. She should’ve sent him a thank-you note for the bracelet. She’d even made several attempts. But in the end, cowardice won over manners.

After a long pause, he said, “How about I call you back later?”

“No, it’s okay. Anyway, I wanted to thank you for the bracelet.” The breathless words were barely out of her mouth when she heard the salon door open and turned to see Chloe frowning at her.

“You realize you can exchange it if you don’t like it.”

She gave Chloe her back and lowered her voice. “Oh, no, I love it. I’m wearing it right now, in fact.”

“Good.” He sounded genuinely pleased. “Look, the reason I called is to ask if you’d have dinner with me.”

“Dinner?” Was he kidding? “When?”

“Tonight.”

“But—” In the background, she heard a woman’s voice announcing that a flight to Acapulco had been delayed. “Where are you?”

“Here. Atlanta.”

She nearly dropped the phone.

“What’s going on?” Chloe got in her face.

Sara fiercely waved her away while putting distance between them. “Are you at the airport?”

“I just arrived.”

She swallowed. He hadn’t wasted any time calling her. Should she be flattered, or scared out of her mind?

Scared won.

The truth wasn’t her friend at the moment. She wasn’t who Cody thought she was, and she wanted it left that way. She cleared her throat, then asked, “Here on business?”

“Yes, for the week.”

That wasn’t the answer she’d expected. When she’d worked for the firm, Cody never traveled. He’d always sent an underling. “Must be a big client.”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “About tonight?”

Cody. Here in Atlanta. It didn’t seem real. “All right,” she said slowly, trying to remember if she was supposed to be somewhere tonight. But she couldn’t think straight. Not that it mattered. How could she not see him? “Where are you staying?”

“The Ritz-Carlton on Peachtree. Would you like to meet there?”

“No.” She squeezed her eyes shut, mentally kicking herself for her abruptness. But she couldn’t get through the lobby without a dozen people recognizing her. “I thought maybe you’d like to experience a little local color.”

“Sure. Name the place.”

Oh, God. “Could you hold for just a moment, please?” Without waiting for his answer, she turned to get Chloe. She was at the door of the salon about to go inside. Sara frantically motioned her back, and then met her halfway, holding the phone behind her back. “I need a name and address of a restaurant.”

Chloe narrowed her gaze. “Is this a joke?”

“Chloe, please.”

She gave Sara a curious look, and then said, “Café Tu Tu Tango in Buckhead.”

“Thanks, I’ll be right back in.” She waited, keeping the phone right where it was so he couldn’t hear.

Chloe gave her another questioning look and then went into the salon.

Sara brought the phone back up to her ear as the name Chloe had given her registered. Chloe wouldn’t send her to someplace too weird, would she?

Ignoring the older woman with the ridiculously permed hair and disapproving look who climbed into the rear seat of a limo, Sara turned her attention back to Cody. “How about we meet at Café Tu Tu Tango in Buckhead? Any taxi driver will know where it is.” Not that she did. Of course, she’d been to the Buckhead district many times, but not that restaurant.

“Fine. What time?”

She glanced at her watch. God, she was insane for doing this. “Seven-thirty?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Okay, me, too.” She cringed at her lameness.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you, Sara,” he said, his voice so low and husky her mouth went dry. Then he disconnected the call, leaving her weak-kneed and questioning the prudence of showing up tonight.

Of course she would. She had better manners than to stand anyone up. Oh, God. Where was Shelby when she needed her? Sara took a deep breath and headed back into the salon to face the stares and exchanged looks as she passed through the lobby. She ignored them all as she nonchalantly lowered herself back into Chloe’s chair.

Chloe didn’t miss a beat. She draped the cape Sara had discarded, then picked up the bowl of color solution. After glancing around, Chloe leaned close to Sara’s ear. “What the hell is going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.”

Sara disregarded the sarcasm. This wasn’t something she’d discuss with Chloe, especially since the woman’s answer for everything was to go for it. Besides, Chloe didn’t understand what it meant to be rich. She was like so many other people who thought money solved every problem. How could you be unhappy if you could buy anything you wanted?

Fortunately, they hadn’t been defined by a trust fund, like Sara and her sister. As soon as a man heard Sara’s last name, it was over. There was no way to tell if it was her he wanted. Or the money. Or the publicity. Those people who thought she had it so good hadn’t had expectations so huge they thought they would choke on them. One mistake and the local press was all over them, almost as if they’d been waiting for one of the Wellingtons to fall from grace. There was no privacy. Not in Atlanta, anyway.

And here Cody was. In the thick of things. What was he doing here for an entire week? It didn’t make sense. At least she knew where he was staying. She could call and excuse herself for tonight. Tell him she’d forgotten an engagement on her calendar.

In fact, now she had his cell number. Her gaze fell to the small cell phone she still clutched in her hand. Should she program his number, or…

“Fine. Give me the silent treatment.” Chloe turned to sip her French vanilla latte and then with an acerbic look returned to brushing on the highlights.

Sara wasn’t big on sharing confidences. Except, of course, with Shelby. Although she didn’t have to worry about Chloe. She was discreet, just like every other stylist at Papillon in deference to their high-profile clientele.

“Okay, there was this guy in New York…”

“Yeah?” Chloe’s eyebrows went up but she kept working. “And?”

“He didn’t step up to the plate until my last night there. So honest, nothing to tell.”

Stepping back, Chloe gave her a wry look.

“I’m serious.”

“He give you the bracelet?”

“Yes, but nothing happened. He was…out of reach, you know?”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were high. The only man that could be out of reach for you is damn Prince Charles, but that’s not the point. When was the last time you had a date?”

“I can always count on you to make me feel better.”

“Sorry.” Chloe smiled sheepishly. “Tell me about this guy and I promise to skip the editorials.”

She breathed in deeply. “He’s an attorney, a senior partner in one of the foremost law firms in Manhattan. But I think he’s only about thirty-five. Which means he’s intelligent and ambitious.”

“Or that he’s sleeping with the boss.” Chloe winced, when Sara gave her a dirty look. “I’m supposed to shut up.”

“That’s what I get for asking the impossible.”

“No, come on. What does he look like?”

“Tall, maybe just over six feet. Athletic-looking. Kind of light brown hair, or maybe you’d call it dark blond. I’m not sure what the difference is.” She stopped and thought a moment. He wore his hair too short, in her opinion, so she really hadn’t noticed it much. It was his eyes that got to her. “Bluish green,” she said and then looked at an obviously confused Chloe. “His eyes. They’re this bluish green color that’s really hard to describe.”

Chloe smiled and kept working.

“What?”

“Girl, you got it bad.”

“I do not. He’s just—” She slumped. “Okay, so what do I do about it?”

“You have to ask?”

“Ouch!” Sara jerked.

Chloe eased up on the hair she was applying color to. “That wasn’t deliberate. Although I hope it jarred some sense into you.”

“All right, all right. He’s here for a week. I promise to see him at least twice.”

Chloe sighed dramatically. “I’m so proud.”

“I have one little problem.” Sara met her eyes and waited for her words to sink in.

“He doesn’t know who you are,” Chloe said quietly.

Sara shook her head. “Which means I can’t take him back to Shelby’s and my apartment. And he’s staying at the Ritz-Carlton.”

“Shit.”

“Couldn’t have put it better myself.”

“Wait.” Chloe freed her hands and pulled out the top drawer. She withdrew a ridiculously small red purse and dug inside until she produced a set of keys. “Ta da. The answer is my apartment. Think about it. The timing is perfect.” Careful of her long red fingernails, she separated a key from the others and handed it to Sara. “I’ll be gone for a week. I have to be at the airport tonight at six, so it’s yours from 4 p.m. on.”

Sara stared at the silver key in her hand. Was this fate, or what?

Chloe went back to work as if the matter were settled. “The microwave died a couple of months ago. I don’t eat at home much, so I haven’t replaced it. I don’t even know if the oven works. But I’ve only had the apartment for two years.”

Sara laughed. “You’re sure about this? Because I can—”

“Come on, you wanna get laid, or what?”

Sara briefly closed her eyes. Not a good day for Chloe to be testing her patience.

“Relax. Nobody heard.”

“Look, Chloe, I appreciate what you’re doing, but you can’t tell anyone about this. I’m serious.”

“That hurt.”

“I apologize.” Sara sighed. This whole thing was too bizarre for words. “I do. I totally trust you.”

“You gotta lighten up. You’re only twenty-seven. Have some fun.”

Technically Sara was still twenty-six, but darn it, Chloe was absolutely right. For the rest of her life she’d regret not jumping at this chance to be with Cody. She only wished the opportunity had presented itself in New York and not Atlanta where she knew half the people in the city. Or rather, they knew her.

2

A T SEVEN-FIFTEEN, Cody slowly got out of the cab in front of Café Tu Tu Tango. He knew this was the right restaurant. Unlikely he’d have gotten both the name and location wrong, and the driver had known exactly where to go. But this definitely wasn’t the type of restaurant he’d had in mind. Nor would he have guessed it was the kind of place that met with Sara’s taste.

But then again, what did he really know about the woman? Other than she couldn’t be more wrong for him and had a wide smile that made him behave like a stupid prepubescent teen. In his saner moments he’d wondered about her many contradictions. She’d sublet a fifth-floor walk-up in Manhattan that was the size of a postage stamp, and she didn’t go with the rest of the staff to their daily lunches, preferring to eat alone in the park or at her desk from the same brown paper bag. Yet she wore really expensive shoes and, according to his sources, her purse cost a bundle, and it wasn’t a knockoff.

Nothing wrong with desiring the finer things. He settled for nothing less. But he knew how much money she made as a temporary office worker. Something didn’t add up. And that should have made him nervous. Not intrigued.

In fact, he almost hoped that he’d find out she was one of those women. The kind that lived in dives and spent all their money on expensive accessories and hung out at ritzy bars in the hope of finding a rich husband.

A couple of law school friends had been taken to the cleaners by women of that ilk, but he’d been lucky to avoid the trap himself. Actually, luck had nothing to do with it. He was careful. Selective. Although he had no political ambitions at this point, he had no intention of screwing up his career or any future options.

He looked again at the colorful restaurant sign. Café Tu Tu Tango? Maybe it was a Southern thing.

Taking a deep breath, he looked at his watch. One week. That’s all he’d be in Atlanta for. He’d probably have dinner with Sara a couple of times. Maybe even invite her back to his hotel for one discreet night. Then he’d head back to New York. How much trouble could he get into?

He headed for the door of the restaurant, his step quickening at the thought of seeing Sara. If he didn’t like the place, he’d persuade her to come back to the hotel with him, to the Atlanta Grill.

Just as he opened the door, a couple stumbled out. He quickly moved back, but the woman’s stiff blue spiked hair scraped across his chin, the heavy smell of gin assaulting his nostrils.

“’Scuse us,” the young man with an unfortunate tattoo scrawled around his neck said, and then guided his partner down the sidewalk.

Cody adjusted his right cuff. This obviously was not a good idea. Stepping inside the restaurant further convinced him. Not only was the place packed with people, but the room itself was a dizzying avalanche of color. And noise. God almighty.

There were paintings everywhere, on practically every surface. Everything from contemporary oils to copies of masterpieces. There was a rather loud three-piece band on a second-story stage, and dancers with big blue twirling skirts.

“Hi, do you have a reservation?” A pretty blonde, or she might have been had she not had both her nose and left eyebrow pierced and bolted, approached him.

“I don’t think so.” He glanced around, hoping Sara had also arrived early.

“Oops.” Sighing, the blonde consulted a list, using the tip of a bright pink fingernail that matched her short tight spandex dress. “We’re full up tonight.”

“Thank you, anyway.” He’d wait outside and give Sara the bad news. Meanwhile, he’d get them another reservation.

“Were you meeting someone?”

He’d already started to leave and withdrawn his cell phone to call the hotel concierge. “Yes, but that’s all right.”

“What’s the name?”

“Sara Wells.”

“Ah, yes. Chloe made a reservation for the two of you. The lady’s not here yet, though.” The woman smiled, and Cody caught a flash of a silver stud embedded in her tongue. “You can wait at the table or the bar.”

Damn. He jammed his cell phone back inside his suit jacket. “The table, thank you.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the door, futilely hoping to see Sara, and then followed the blonde to a table in the back of the restaurant.

Although the patrons were an odd assortment of yuppies and bohemian types, none appeared to be financially lacking. Judging by the abundance of Louis Vuitton and Chanel purses sitting on tables, and the gold Rolexes encircling many a wrist. Of course the accessories could all be knockoffs, or then again, supporting evidence of social climbing.

God, he didn’t want to think that about Sara. But he wasn’t going to be taken for a fool, either.

He sat down, taking the seat that faced the entry, and was promptly approached by a waitress who took his scotch order. While he waited, he glanced around and noticed that a young man was actually painting on a canvas while three others at his table watched. The abstract he worked on was actually pretty good. He couldn’t say the same for the acoustics. The music was too loud, and so was the laughter and chatter all around him. He’d wanted a nice, quiet dinner. One where he and Sara could talk.

The waitress returned with his drink, but before he could ask her anything, he saw Sara heading toward him. A simple, sleeveless cream-colored blouse was tucked into the slim waist of her jeans, and her blond hair seemed slightly wilder than he remembered her wearing it. Longer, too, skimming her shoulders. She looked so beautiful.

He started to rise but she waved for him to stay seated. To his amazement, his heart beat faster the closer she got to him. That hadn’t happened since he was twenty. In court, at times, while awaiting a verdict. But he hadn’t been this attracted to a woman since…

Since that damn kiss.

“Traffic was brutal,” she said as she pulled out a chair and gracefully sat down. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“Just got here. And I’m early.” He’d forgotten how much he liked her lilting Southern accent. Not too pronounced. Soothing. Which was odd, because accents generally annoyed him.

She glanced at her watch, frowned and then promptly lowered her wrist and smiled. “Interesting place, huh?”

“That’s an understatement.”

She looked past him, her gaze narrowing as it flitted around.

“It’s got a lot of energy.” He caught their waitress’s eye as she served drinks at another table and she gave him a nod.

“I’ll say.”

“You seem surprised.”

She shifted, clearly uncomfortable, but only shrugged a shoulder. “I was getting my hair done when you called and I asked my hairdresser for a recommendation.”

“Ah. I like it.”

“What?”

“Your hair.”

“Oh.” She absently tugged at a curl that wound its way toward her cheek. “Not my usual.”

“No,” he agreed. At work she’d always worn her hair in a sleeker style, one he normally preferred on women. But this sexy tousled look suited her heart-shaped face and contradicted those clear, innocent blue eyes. “So where do you usually go?”

“Me?”

He smiled. “Yes.”

Sara gave a self-deprecating shake of her head, her lips curving. “I don’t go out much.”

He found that hard to believe. She had to have a lot of dates. “Really?”

She briefly met his eyes and then turned her attention to the waitress who’d finally shown up. Sara ordered white wine, and then changed her mind and asked for a frozen margarita. “Dakota got me hooked on those,” she said as the waitress walked away. “How is she, by the way?”

“Great. Busy as usual.”

Sara’s gaze narrowed. “So what are you doing in Atlanta?”

“Representing a client.”

“I didn’t think you ever left New York.”

He smiled. Basically, that was true.

“Seriously. I would’ve thought you’d have sent Matthew or Sterling.”

“Yes, well…” Of course he should have. Everyone in the office was probably wondering the same thing. Dakota had been the only one to call him on his decision to come himself. She’d even had the nerve to ask if Sara was the reason. As if he’d let his personal feelings influence a professional decision. “The guy I’m representing…his father is an important client and he’s called in a favor. His son’s gotten himself into a little trouble that’s become too public.”

She seemed to tense, her pink-tinted lips tightening as she leaned forward. “Anyone I would know?”

The local papers had already run the story so it wasn’t a matter of maintaining confidentiality. Her reaction, however, made him hesitate. He shook it off. What difference could it possibly make? “Harrison Manning Junior.”

“Ah.” She relaxed back in her chair. “I read something about him in the newspaper. He’ll never see the inside of a courtroom.”

“Not if I do my job,” he said, confused at the flash of anger in her eyes. “Do you know him?”

“He’s in the Journal a lot. This isn’t the first time he’s gotten himself in a mess.”

That was news to him. “Really?” Cody picked up his drink and took a sip while studying her over the rim, his curiosity piqued. This was supposed to be a slam dunk case.

She blushed a pretty pink, then shook her head. “I don’t really know. It’s just gossip.”

He decided he didn’t want to talk about Harrison Manning Junior. “What have you been doing?” he asked. “Since you got back.”

She looked down at her hands, then back at him. “Still temping.”

That surprised and annoyed him. She was too talented to still be drifting. “Dakota tells me you’ve taken some law classes…”

She nodded and then picked up one of the menus the hostess had left. “Have you had a look at this, yet?”

“She also told me that you’d caught a couple of significant errors in—”

She looked up, clearly flustered. “Are you trying to recruit me?”

“I thought I was making small talk.”

Sighing, she sank back. “Sorry. I had a bad day. Traffic. You know…”

“Well, since you brought it up, how would you like to assist me while I’m here? Thirty percent over whatever we paid you in New York.”

Her gaze met his, her blue eyes narrowing in alarm. Her lips, pink and glistening from a slow swipe of her tongue, parted slightly. “I already have a job this week.”

“Hey, that’s fine. That’s good. Just thought I’d…” He picked up his menu and pretended to read it. He had to stop staring at Sara before he said or did something stupid again. What if she’d accepted his ridiculous offer? Where had that come from, anyway? He’d always kept his social and professional life separate.

That was the problem. He didn’t know what he wanted from Sara. His whole attraction to her was weird. Sure she was gorgeous, but they basically had nothing in common. It wasn’t like college, where he felt free to pursue any woman at any time. Besides the fact that he wasn’t a kid anymore, his career was too important for him to not be discriminating.

“Cody, what are you really doing here?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts, her tone bordering on accusing, as if she’d read his mind.

He reluctantly looked up from the menu. “Excuse me?”

“Come on. Tell me.”

The challenge in her eyes made him smile. “I have a client—”

She tilted her head to the side. “I know why you’re here. I just don’t understand it.”

“Don’t understand what?”

“You barely gave me the time of day when I was in New York.”

“That’s not true.”

“And then that last night—” She briefly looked away, and then stared back with determination, leaning closer, the undersides of her breasts grazing the table. In a low voice, she asked, “What was that about?”

He felt his face flush in embarrassment. He turned to his menu and prayed for a waitress.

“Don’t be defensive. Please. I just don’t understand why you didn’t ask me out months ago.”

He looked up at the change in her tone. There was no accusation, just curiosity, and that he understood. “You were working for the firm.”

She looked him straight in the eyes. “Was that the only reason?”

He shook his head. “Man, I should’ve gone to a Braves’ game.”

“I assume that means I’m not going to get any more out of you, right? Well, that’s okay. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot. As for the Braves, they’re out of town, playing the Cubs. But they’ll be back on Wednesday.”

“You like baseball?”

Her eyes widened. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“Uh, no. You go to the games?”

“Most of them. Are you a Mets’fan by any chance?”

Amazing. She was the only woman he knew who liked baseball. “Hell, yes.”

“I bet you have great season tickets.”

“I don’t have time to go to the games. I try to catch the scores on ESPN.”

“That’s sad,” she said earnestly. “The fun part of baseball is sitting in the stadium with all the noise and eating hot dogs and popcorn. Oh, and I love those big pretzels.”

He smiled at the rapture on her face, at the flash of memory from his college days. Before law school. Before life had gotten so damn complicated. “Don’t forget a tall frosty beer.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I can do without that.”

“Normally, I’d agree. But there’s something about a ball park dog and a cold beer that can’t be beat.”

Her lips curved in a mysterious smile before she obstructed it by taking a sip of her margarita.

The odd smile and her silence made his eyes narrow. “You know something I don’t?”

“Probably a lot of things.” Salt from the rim of the glass clung to her lower lip and she used the tip of her tongue to remove the small chunk. Slowly, as if she knew the act was driving him crazy.

He silently cleared his throat. “Is that right?”

She nodded, and then she went real still, staring at him as if she’d just now realized he was at the table. To say the look was unnerving was an understatement.

“What are you doing tomorrow night for dinner?” she asked.

The way she asked matched the gleam in her eyes, and he wasn’t sure if he should be thrilled or head back to New York on the next flight. “Why?”

“Here’s the thing.” She placed her clasped hands on the table and leaned forward with no hint of a smile. “This is my territory.”

“Meaning?”

“If you want to see me, it’ll be on my terms.”

Cody snorted. Who did she think she was talking to? He could have a date every night of the week if he wanted. With attractive Manhattan socialites. Prominent career women. Sara was a damn temp worker, and she thought she could dictate terms to him?

He drained his scotch. “What?” he asked, as he realized with a jolt that her terms might be very, very interesting. “What are your terms?”

“First, we’ll only—”

“Shelby?” A tall, balding man, wearing a well-tailored suit, approached the table. “I thought you were still in Europe.”

She blinked and her face paled. “Robert?” She shot out of her chair, glanced at Cody and said, “Would you excuse me?” before taking the man’s arm and steering him toward the front of the restaurant.

Cody watched until he couldn’t see her anymore, and then stared at the amber liquid at the bottom of his tumbler. Barely a taste of scotch remained. The man had called her Shelby, and she obviously knew him. She hadn’t been in Europe. She’d been living in New York. What the hell was going on?

Their waitress was taking orders at the next table, and Cody couldn’t decide if he should get another drink or disappear before Sara got back. What did he know about the woman, anyway?

Using a different name. Lying about going to Europe. Choosing a restaurant she’d never been to before.

It all spelled trouble.

He reached into his jacket for his wallet, anxious to pay his tab and get out, when he saw her heading back toward him, without the balding man. Long blond tendrils bounced as she walked and even from three table lengths away, he could see the sapphire blue of her eyes. But it was the slow wide smile and straight white teeth that got him. Right in the gut. And lower.

“Sorry,” she said in a breathy voice as she sat down. Her gaze briefly scanned the room behind him, before she met his eyes.

“What was that about?”

“He’s a family friend,” she said without blinking, without displaying any other sign she was lying.

“But he doesn’t know your name?”

Her eyebrows went up in challenge. “He mistook me for my sister.”

“Right.”

“Okay, here’s the deal.” She reached behind for the black leather purse she’d hung on the chair back. “As I said, my territory, my terms. This is nonnegotiable. I choose where we go, what we do. I’m leaving now. If you can deal with that, come with me. Otherwise, the best of luck on your case.”

He needed at least one more scotch. “Are you serious?”

She’d already gotten up and stopped only to give him a definitive nod before walking away.

Screw her. The woman was totally insane. His gaze stayed on the graceful sway of her slim hips, the way her jeans hugged the generous swell of her backside. Instead of getting his questions answered, he had a dozen more. She wasn’t just intriguing, she was infuriating. He should be grateful to get out of this so easily.

Shit.

He threw a couple of twenties on the table and then hurried after her.

3

S ARA LOOKED straight ahead until she got out of the restaurant and into the chilled evening air. She should have known better. Did she think she could get away with going to a restaurant in Buckhead and not seeing someone she knew? She’d have been better off choosing a place out of the phone book. Someplace on the far side of town. Not that it mattered now. From the look on Cody’s face, she knew she’d never see him again. Which was probably just as well.

Damn him. Why hadn’t he made a move in New York? All that time wasted…

She jerked open her purse, looking for her car keys and then remembered she’d taken a cab. Since taxis weren’t abundant in the area, she’d have to call for one. Sighing, she got out her cell phone while glancing up at the darkening sky. Looked like rain. Great.

She sensed him behind her a moment before he laid a warm hand on her bare arm. Sucking in a breath, she slowly looked up at him. His eyes were more green than blue and the surprising hint of stubble on his chin made him look more rugged than usual. As quick as that, she knew she’d been full of it, thinking his loss was no big deal.

“Okay,” he said simply. “You win.”

“It’s not a matter of winning or losing. It’s just—” A chill chased up her spine and she shivered.

He moved closer and slid an arm around her shoulders, bringing her against the warmth of his body. “Is this allowed?” he whispered.

The urge to give him a good shove faded next to the pleasure of being pressed against his chest. “Only because it’s freezing out here.”

He smiled. “Freezing?”

Sara sighed. So it was only in the low seventies. Still, it was unseasonably cool. And his chest felt so damn good. A lot stronger and more sculpted than she’d imagined. Despite his busy schedule, he obviously found time to work out. “We’re going to have to take a taxi.”

“You don’t have a car?”

“I do, but it’s in the shop.”

He gave her an odd look, though there was no way he could know she’d lied. “No problem.” Frowning, he looked down the street. But of course there were no taxis.

“This isn’t like New York,” she said. “Most people around here drive, so we’ll have to call for a cab.”

“Right.” With a look of exasperation, he removed his arm from around her shoulders and reached into his breast pocket for his cell phone.

Immediately, she missed his touch. But the sudden realization that she had no idea where they should go next sent her thoughts in a different direction. There were a dozen places that she favored but none without consequence. Of course there was always Chloe’s place. But the first night? Not a good idea.

“You wouldn’t happen to know the number?”

She shook her head. “I’ll run back inside and ask the hostess to call.”

Before she could move, he took her hand. “I’ll take care of it.”

She didn’t argue. She simply enjoyed the feel of his palm pressed to hers, the way his long fingers curled around her hand as he called directory assistance, even though the problem of where she’d take him once the cab arrived remained unsolved.

Was she being too cautious? At this point, did it really matter if he knew who she was? While living in New York, it hadn’t just been about the anonymity. She’d genuinely wanted to know how it felt to live by herself, to depend on no one else for money or influence or anything else.

But now she was back to reality. And Cody would be here for one short week. He’d actually called and wanted to see her. Only for sex, of course. And only because he was here in Atlanta, where no one knew him. She laughed at the irony. Except it wasn’t really funny. She still didn’t know what to do. After all, what if he was the one?

The sudden ridiculous thought took her by surprise and erected her defenses so fast it made her chest tighten. She withdrew her hand from his and moved away, keeping her gaze averted. There could be nothing between them but sex. Anything more, for her especially, was out of the question.

“Are you all right?”

She looked over at him. He’d already put his cell phone away. Who knows how long he’d been watching her? “Did you get a hold of a cab?”

He hesitated, and she braced herself for an unwanted question. But all he said was, “One should be here within five minutes.”

“Good.” She checked her watch. Mostly for the distraction. She’d purposely not worn the bracelet. She didn’t want him reading too much into it.

“Care to tell me where we’re going?”

This time she did the stalling. Should she wing it? Get to the other side of town and then blindly choose a place at which to stop. Or should she play it safe and take him to Chloe’s?

Safe? She nearly laughed out loud. There were so many questions in his gorgeous eyes, but there was also that spark, the connection she’d never thought she’d feel again.

All right. There was safe, and then there was safe.

She smiled up at him. “How about we go to my place?”

S ARA NEEDN’ T HAVE opened the door to Chloe’s apartment to realize how incredibly dumb it was to have brought him here without having checked out the place first. Chloe was a terrific hairstylist but she was rather odd.

So was her taste in decorating. And that was putting it kindly.

As much as Sara wanted to block Cody’s view, she knew there was no turning back now. Not without making him think she was nuts. There was nothing to do but plunge ahead and try not to cringe.

Taking a deep breath, she led Cody into the rather vibrant front room. Orange wasn’t the color Sara would have chosen for the walls but there it was, an interesting contrast to the oversized lemon-yellow sofa that curved like a snake halfway around the freestanding fireplace.

Dreading it, she turned to look at Cody. She had to hand it to him, he kept a straight face. Of course, good lawyers could do that, and he was one of the best in the country.

She steered them farther into the room, and out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the small but open kitchen. Thankfully, she eyed a hutch near the glass dining table stocked with several bottles of booze. Premium stuff, which didn’t surprise her. Chloe was truly gifted and commanded a hefty fee for her work. And she did enjoy the finer things. Even her furnishings, although on the bohemian side, looked like the highest quality.

“I see you like the retro look,” Cody said, eyeing the lime-green side chairs with amused interest.

Sara paused, taking a new look at the place. It was retro, which, for whatever reason, seemed to make it less tacky. “Not really. I have a roommate. This was originally her place. I just moved in two weeks ago.”

“Ah.” He looked relieved.

She hid a smile and dropped her purse on a black lacquered console table beside a sculpture of a nude couple embracing.

Cody came up beside her and studied the sculpture. “Is she going to show up at any moment?”

“No, she’s on her way to Europe.”

His head reared back slightly. “Is that some kind of code?”

“Excuse me?”

“Didn’t you say your sister—”

Sara laughed. “Yes, she really is in Europe. And Chloe left for the French Riviera—” she glanced at her watch “—about three hours ago.”

“Quite a jet-setting crowd you hang around with.”

“Chloe’s also my hairdresser and with what she charges for a haircut, she could probably retire.”

He didn’t comment, just continued to check out the odd pieces of art that adorned the walls, the knickknacks of wrought-iron stick people holding silk flowers and glass fuchsia-colored high heels filled with colored marbles scattered about.

“Why don’t you fix yourself a drink?” she suggested, trying to divert his attention so she could check out the rest of the apartment in privacy. “I’ll be right back.”

“All right,” he said, turning to look at her. Their eyes met and his crinkled with humor. “Going to slip into something more comfortable?”

“You wish.”

“Indeed.”

She laughed, delighted to see this side of him. “I’ll take a club soda while you’re at it.”

“Glasses are in the kitchen?”

Sounded logical. She nodded, and then hurried down the small hall with the sudden hope that there were two bedrooms. Otherwise, she wasn’t sure how she’d explain that.

The first door to the left was a bathroom, the yellow and orange living room colors repeated in its abstract wallpaper. Further down to the left was a nice-sized bedroom decorated in a surprisingly subtle palette of taupe and blue. Placed in the middle of the queen-sized bed was a piece of folded paper. Sara moved in closer to read the writing.

The sheets are clean, it read in large bold letters. Punctuated with a smiley face.

Sara quickly snatched the note and crumpled it in her hand. She turned around just as Cody appeared at the door. She jumped back, coming up against the bed and quickly having to steady herself. “Good grief, you scared me.”

“Sorry, but you don’t have any club soda.” Scanning the room, his startled gaze briefly rested on the dresser, before he stared questioningly into her eyes.

She turned to see what had caught his attention. A picture of Chloe. Naked.

Sara sighed and with great reluctance, looked back at him. This was it. He was going to leave, and she’d never see him again. Wouldn’t blame him one bit. He had to think she was a lesbian. Or at the very least, bi. “That’s my roommate.”

His eyebrows rose slightly. Clearly at a loss for words, he could only stare.

Sara decided that sticking as close to the truth as possible was her best avenue. “She’s a nudist.”

He frowned.

“She’s also a practical joker.”

His frown deepened. “Are you…?” He spread his hand as if he couldn’t bear to finish the question.

She couldn’t help but laugh. “No. Never. Not in this lifetime.”

His mouth curved in a slight smile. “Good.”

“Can’t stand the thought of seeing me naked?”

Cody’s eyes darkened. “Try me.”

“Funny.” She abruptly turned away to get rid of Chloe’s picture. Damn, the man could reduce her to Jell-O with just a look. “I think I’d like something stronger than club soda, after all.”

She approached him, and since he was blocking the door, she expected him to lead them out of the bedroom. Instead, he grasped her by the shoulders and kissed her lightly on the lips. She stiffened, even though she hadn’t meant to.

He pulled back with a weary smile. “I’m hungry. How about you?”

“Starved.”

He stepped aside to let her go first. As she left the room, she saw another door at the end of the hall to the right, which had to mean there was another bedroom. Unfortunately, he already thought this one was hers.

“So, I assume we’re ordering dinner in,” he asked, once they’d returned to the living room. He went back to the small bar where he’d set out two glasses. Ironically, he already knew the apartment better than she did.

“I’m sure not cooking.” She briefly studied the liquor offerings. “Is there any tonic?”

“Right here.” He picked up the bottle. “Plain?”

“Add some gin.”

He uncapped the bottle. “All right, back to dinner. Any preference?”

“I’m easy. You?”

His mouth started to slowly curve. “You’d be amazed how easy I am.”

She flushed at his teasing, knowing if she lobbed the ball back into the same court, there would be no dinner. Nope, she wasn’t ready quite yet.

“I’ll check in the kitchen for takeout menus.”

His shoulders sagged just enough to let her know he understood. Poor guy. She knew she was sending him mixed signals.

She headed for the kitchen, anxious to escape his probing eyes. “As I mentioned, I just moved in. And since it’s a temporary arrangement…”

“Then what will you do?”

“Depends on what job I get.” She found two menus held to the side of the refrigerator with magnets. “Chinese or Italian do anything for you?”

“Either one.”

At the sound of his voice right behind her, she started. “Would you quit sneaking up on me?”

He handed her the gin and tonic. “I didn’t think I had.”

“No, of course not.” She shook her head. “Sorry. It’s been—”

“A bad day. I know.” He took her free hand. “Come here.”

She let him guide her to the living room, her heart beginning a slow steady beat. Then he took her drink and urged her to sit down. After placing both their glasses on the coffee table, he shrugged out of his suit jacket and sat beside her.

“Turn around,” he said.

It took her a moment to realize what he wanted. The second she’d shifted and her back was to him, he pushed her hair aside and then started kneading the tension at the base of her neck. This man definitely had done this before. With his strong fingers, he followed the cords of muscle, applying the right amount of pressure to make her sigh with pure bliss.

“I assume I’m getting the correct spots,” he said in a husky voice, his breath skimming her sensitized skin.

“Oh, baby.”

He slid his hand down her upper arms, and she felt his lips on the side of her neck. She closed her eyes, allowing the pleasure of his touch to wash over her.

Right now, this second, with her eyes closed and the tension easing out of her shoulders, it all seemed like a dream. How many nights had she lain awake in her tiny Manhattan studio apartment, imagining that he was with her, both of them naked, him running his palms over her body?

Her fantasies had been so intense they’d actually elicited dreams so vivid she had barely been able to meet his eyes the next day in the office. And now he was here. Touching her with his strong, capable hands, his warm breath on her neck and his hard body there for the taking. Making her wet and wanting. Maybe…

Oh, don’t let it be a…

He dispelled any possibility that this wasn’t real by crossing his arms over her breasts and pulling her back to lie against his chest. She clutched his forearm, and he apparently misunderstood because he loosened his hold and started to retreat.

Already having screwed up the kiss earlier, she quickly pulled his arms back around her, strategically placing one of his hands over her breast. His sharp exhale stirred her hair and she smiled. He hugged her closer and began to gently knead her breast.

“Sara?”

His gruff whisper took her breath away. She didn’t speak, only tilted her head in answer.

“Look at me.”

She turned around in his arms. His lips were parted, his lids lowered so that his eyes were only slits, but there was no mistaking the smoldering gleam that told her exactly what he wanted.

He lowered his head, and she lifted her mouth to his. Even though they’d already touched, when their lips met, everything changed. A fine tingling started at the crown of her head and traveled down her spine, straight to the dampness between her thighs.

It didn’t help that he took his time, exploring the inside of her mouth with his tongue, leaving no inch untouched. This wasn’t foreplay. It was sheer torture. Exquisite pain, but still.

Unable to stand it another moment, she broke the kiss long enough to turn around. Facing him took the torture to another level. She barely recognized the man. The feral color of his eyes darkened his face, and the normally stoic expression had morphed into pure desire.

He didn’t seem in a hurry to resume the kiss. Instead, he touched her face. Gently, using the back of his hand, he stroked her cheek. And then he drew the tip of his finger across her damp lower lip before leaning in to reclaim her mouth.

She gladly submitted. The urge to touch him, and not only his face, was strong, but if she did, there would be no going back. This was it. The moment of decision. His low moan made it an easy one. As she pushed her tongue into his willing mouth, her hands moved to loosen his tie.

She felt the change in his kiss. They had crossed the border into uncharted territory. It took her a minute, but she finally got his tie undone. He, on the other hand, was far more dexterous and had her blouse all but unbuttoned. She yanked his shirt from his waistband. He did the same with her blouse.

Some part of her brain still persisted in worrying that they were going too fast. That they should talk more, get to know one another better. Then his knuckle lightly caressed her nipple.

“Oh, Sara,” he whispered, pulling back to look at what he’d just touched.

She gave a silent thanks for push-up technology before she got busy taking off his shirt, only to be disappointed that he was an undershirt kind of guy. Not that she hated undershirts, but she really wanted skin. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable without that T-shirt?”

The corners of his mouth twitched as he reached for the hem. He pulled off the T-shirt, and she could only stare. She knew by feel that he was in great shape, but my, oh, my. This man definitely took good care of himself.

“Your turn.” He didn’t wait, but pushed the front of her blouse open. He ran his gaze from her breasts down to her belly. She’d barely had time to suck it in. “As pretty as that bra is,” he said as he pushed the blouse off her shoulders, “I’d like it off.”

The silk fabric slid down her back. “I’m sure you know how to handle that.”

A slow sexy smile curved his mouth and within seconds he unfastened the front clasp and tossed her bra atop his jacket.

4

H ER BREASTS were small and perfect all the way to the pink tips. He’d been hard for the last ten minutes; if he didn’t unzip his fly soon, there’d be damage. And pain. When was the last time he’d wanted a woman like this?

It was definitely worth it. All of it. Coming to Atlanta for this menial case. Suffering Dakota and her annoying I-know-what-you’re-up-to look. The curiosity from everyone in the office, including Teddy in the mailroom. Even enduring Gwen’s undignified temper tantrum because he wouldn’t be in New York to escort her to the Heart Ball that she was cochairing.

Cody knew he was insane, but right now he didn’t give a damn. Sara was every bit as beautiful as he’d imagined.

“I didn’t think you did anything but work.” Sara flattened her palms against his chest and ran them up over his nipples, which promptly responded.

“Where did that come from?”

“You don’t get a chest like this sitting at a desk.”

He laughed, a little surprised at her bluntness. “I play tennis and jog. I even catch a pickup game of softball on the occasional Sunday.”

“Are you serious?”

He touched the tip of one budded nipple, enjoying the way she shivered. Maybe now she’d stop talking and start doing far more interesting things.

She ran her hands back down his chest, to his belly, stopping right above his fly. “I can’t imagine you playing softball.”

“Why not?”

“Must be tough playing in a suit.”

“Hey, I played baseball all through high school and for three years in college.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

Instead of being satisfied and moving on, she looked even more curious. “Were you playing on a scholarship?”

“No.” That would’ve pushed his parents over the edge.

“What happened the fourth year?”

“I decided to concentrate more on my studies.”

“To get into law school.”

He nodded. “You don’t think it’s rather absurd that we’re both half-naked and talking about baseball?”

Sara smiled. “To be honest, this is killing me.”

“I see,” he said slowly as he palmed her right breast.

She moved into his touch, but just for a moment, and then settled back, her eyes full of misgiving. “Do you realize this is the most you’ve ever talked to me?”

“Not true.”

“Okay, when have we had a decent conversation?”

“Back in New York.” He tried not to stare at the way her nipples had ripened. But then again, what the hell. She was the one making a game of this.

“When?”

“Many times.”

“Give me a for instance.” She folded her arms across her chest, cutting off his view.

“I spoke to you nearly every day.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, right. Good morning, Sara. See you tomorrow, Sara. Is Dakota in her office? Have her call me when she gets in. Have you finished typing the Murphy briefs?” With a resigned shake of her head, she added, “I stand corrected. You talked to me all the time.”

The earlier sarcasm had been much easier to take. She was being unreasonable. “The office is no place for small talk.”

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