I blew out a breath. “How much time do we have? Maybe swing by the mall to pick up a loaner?”
He pulled out his cell phone, glanced at it and shook his head. “You’re going like that. Besides, he’s not paying the big bucks to sleep with your skirt, fortunately for you.”
I glared at him. “Sometimes you annoy the shit out of me.”
“I know.” He shrugged and jerked his shoulder toward the door and walked out. I followed him into a gorgeous spring afternoon.
Once in his blue Jeep Wrangler, Heath maneuvered his way to the nearest freeway entrance down sleepy residential streets cloaked in bright purple jacaranda and whispering pepper trees. Out on the wider boulevard, towering palms—ubiquitous in Southern California—shivered in the cool ocean breeze.
“So who is this guy?” I asked him as we zipped down the 55 freeway.
“You’ll find out soon enough. Name’s Drake.” He shot me a glance like I should know who that was. “Adam Drake.”
“And which rich dude is he?”
“The one from out here. Lives in Newport Beach, of course. Don’t they all?”
I snorted. “And you said he’s young?”
“A bit older than we are. Twenty-six.”
“So how’d he get so rich? Trust fund? Daddy’s company?”
“Nope, he’s completely self-made, actually.”
That bit of info blew me away. “How is that possible at his age?”
“He’s a software architect—video games.”
My mouth opened in surprise. Heath’s sense of irony was not lost on me. “I can see why you picked him. He develop anything that I know?”
Heath shrugged. “Maybe.”
I shot him a pointed glance. “Just how thorough was your background check?”
“Oh God. I think I know him like a brother by now. We spoke on Monday for three hours. Then had another long chat on Wednesday on the phone. I was already half in love with him before I even met Mr. New York.”
I snorted again.
“Yeah, don’t do that when you are in there. He might back out of the whole thing if he hears you laughing like a piglet.”
I slapped his shoulder with the back of my hand and he grinned.
Not half an hour later, we sat at a glass and chrome conference table in black leather chairs, sleek granite décor ensconcing us in all that was modern and exuding wealth. I’d driven by this hotel many times but never been inside—and never hoped to have the chance to stay in a place so nice.
My hands drummed on my lap, slapping against my bare knees. Heath stopped me once by placing his large hand across mine but I only resumed the minute he removed it.
“You’re driving me up a tree with that.”
I shot him a look. He’d just have to deal with my nerves. “Are we really that early?”
“No, he’s late.”
“If he was that anxious to meet me today, shouldn’t he be here on time?”
“He’s coming up the 405. After three, it’s an instant parking lot. He’s probably stuck in traffic.”
I huffed. “Can’t he take the filthy rich limo lane or something?”
Before I could even finish my sentence, two men approached the frosted glass door into the conference room. One of them leaned forward to snap open the door. He was the taller of the two and wore his dark hair in a close-cropped style. The other man—well, I hardly noticed him when I locked eyes with the first man’s obsidian stare.
Heath and I jerked to our feet. My pulse ratcheted up to a near-fatal rate, threatening acute hypertension. The first guy with the dark eyes was the software mogul—I would have bet my every measly belonging on it. He hesitated at the doorway once he’d caught a full glimpse of me and my breath caught when I looked into his stunningly handsome face.
He was about six feet tall and wearing an expensive suit—the kind with a vest under the jacket that looked like it had been tailored for him, hugging his tapered waist and slim hips. The suit looked so good on him that I knew it had to be designer, even though I was the first one to confess that I knew nothing about designer anything.
He was finely built but not imposing. His slacks clung to muscular thighs, his jacket stretched across solid but not broad shoulders. His suit was a crisp, steel gray with a slightly darker shirt and tie. The silver tie clip caught the light and my eyes flicked to it and then back to his face. He had the chiseled masculinity of a marble god. All angles and strong, clean lines.
My heart felt like it might fibrillate or—as a nonmedical student would say—flutter. I’d never been so strongly affected by a man. Especially one I’d only just laid eyes on. His dark eyes met mine and my chest felt like it was about to explode. He stopped, his eyes narrowing. While he gave me the once-over, I sucked in a lungful of air because I’d almost forgotten to breathe during this initial lightning strike.