“Are you busy?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Very busy.” Eating ice cream out of a carton.
“I heard there’s a great spot just north of here, right on the water. Let me take you to dinner.”
“I don’t know…”
“Come on, it’ll be fun.”
She really shouldn’t, but he hadn’t agreed to the Spring Fling yet, and this might be the perfect opportunity to nail him down.
And if her heart was racing just at the thought of seeing him again, that was her heart’s problem. “Fine,” she said. “Okay.”
“Great. Pick you up in thirty minutes?”
“Sure.”
“Oh, Ruby?”
“What?” she asked, his tone making her more alert.
“Wear a dress and don’t wear any underwear.”
“Mark!”
But he’d already hung up.
Ruby was waiting on the curb when the red Ferrari turned the corner and purred up her street. When it stopped in front of her, she had to pick her jaw up off the ground. Leaning down to look through the passenger-side window, she found Mark grinning at her.
“I see you’re not going crazy with your newfound wealth.”
He shrugged. “Company loaner. I guess they were out of Pintos. Hop in.”
She opened the door and slid into the luxurious leather seat. She took in the chrome dials, sleek design, total opulence. The engine hummed quietly beneath her, a mix of restrained power, youthfulness, and extreme indulgence. Kind of like the man driving it.
“I take it you’ve never been in one of these before?”
She clutched her bag tightly on her lap. “In fact, I have.”
Putting the car in gear, he smoothly accelerated. “Yeah?”
“My father was a mechanic. For a while he worked for a very wealthy man, maintaining his fleet of luxury vehicles and boats.”
They pulled onto Nineteenth Street and continued south. She hated talking about her parents, so she changed the subject before that particular conversation continued.
“Tell me about the record you’re about to make.” She truly was curious. She’d downloaded the band’s previous two albums from iTunes and had been impressed by their modern, cross-genre sound. She could see why they were so popular; they could potentially be played on nearly any major radio station.
“What can I say? It’s gonna be a kick-ass record. Like bluesy, and scratchy with a bit of hip-hop and Tom Waits thrown in.”
“I love Tom Waits.”
He glanced at her, an eyebrow cocked. “Really?”
“Why are you so surprised?”
He shrugged. “Because his music is so chaotic, so uncontrolled.” He gave her a quick glance. “So unlike you. But then you like jazz, too. And that’s a very spontaneous type of music.” He eyed her vintage fifties yellow dress with a raised brow, and she wished she’d left the top button undone. As if her primly buttoned dress proved his point, he grinned and faced forward.
She bristled. “I’m not the controlled priss you seem to think I am.”
He gave her a bone-melting grin. “Oh, baby. I know you’re not. I knew that last weekend when you had me between your legs. I still have scratches on my shoulders from your nails.”
Her cheeks burned as she reached over to turn up the air-conditioning.
“You hot, baby?”
“I’m not your baby. Or anything else.”
“But you did wear a dress for me.”
“It wasn’t for you. I always wear dresses.” She left out the fact that she never wore dresses on Sundays.
“And what about the panties? I hope you followed that direction as well.”
God, for such an expensive car, the air-conditioning really needed some help.
“Ruby?”
“Of course I’m wearing my underwear!” She didn’t mention that she’d been tempted to follow his orders, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. She tugged the hem of her dress lower.
He shook his head in that way of his—the way that let her know she was in trouble.
She needed to change the subject again, and now that she finally had him cornered, she wanted a definite answer about James Cleaver’s event. “So, Mark, I was wondering if we could discuss the Spring Fling—that’s what we’re calling it, by the way.”
“Shoot.”
She turned to face him, watched his long legs as he shifted into a higher gear, pulling them onto Highway 1. She swallowed; why did just watching the way he controlled the car heighten her awareness like this?
She said, “Can I get a confirmation from you?” She really needed him to say yes. James had sent her the guest list, and it included some very impressive potential clients. She needed to wow them.