Intend To Seduce(17)

"I'm sensing some more interesting gaps in the story. C'mon, boss. It's raining here and I'm stuck in the back of a delivery truck. I could use a good story."

"Falcone wants to meet the day after tomorrow at his place in Napa at 3:00 p.m. His exact words were 'Fortune has dealt me a few cards I didn't hold before. One of them might grab your attention.'"

"Cards as in plural."

"Yeah." One of the things that Lucas admired most about his friend was the way Tracker's razor-sharp mind always cut right to the quick.

"If – when I find Sophie, you want me to get her out of here?"

Lucas thought for a moment. "No. And I don't want you to cause any disturbance. I just want you to make sure no one can get to her there."

"Right. I'll be able to verify she's here by morning even if I have to search each one of those damn cabins. I'll also have a look at their security system."

"Have fun."

Tracker laughed. "You too, boss."

The moment that Lucas disconnected the call, he strode purposefully toward Mac. It was time to salvage his reputation and the reputation of his hotel by escorting "Sally" to his suite. The moment be reached her chair, she jumped up, his present still clutched tightly in her hand.

"Shall we go, Sally?" he asked.

Rising up on tiptoe, she said in a low voice, "I'm not Sally anymore."

"I was beginning to like that fantasy," Lucas said, taking her arm and guiding her toward the bank of elevators. "I especially liked the way it was bound to end."

Mac dug in her heels near the fountain. "My turn isn't over yet."

"I think it is."

She shook her head. "We haven't made love yet, and that was the deal. And I've got an even better fantasy in mind."

He studied her. Did he want to know? "What is it?"

She tapped one hand against the bag that contained his present. "It's right in here. You're going to love it."











Chapter 8

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"You're not really going to make me wait until Saturday afternoon to see you again."

Sophie turned in the front seat of the convertible to smile at the man behind the wheel. Sonny Falcone had been surprised and delighted when Susan Walker had called to invite him to lunch. "I'm booked solid with clients until Saturday morning."

Susan Walker had a business trip that would coincide with a party his family was throwing at their vineyard. That was the story she'd given Sonny in D.C. When he'd invited her to attend the party, she'd agreed. But at some point during the time they'd spent together that afternoon, she'd decided she didn't want her time in Napa dominated by Sonny.

He'd taken her to a lovely place in the hills where they'd sipped wine on a veranda that offered an even more enchanting view than the one she had from her hotel room. Then they'd had a late lunch at a small inn. He'd been charming, but less than totally attentive to all the lies she was telling him about herself and her business.

He was a very handsome man with the kind of body that had fascinated Italian sculptors for centuries. Perhaps that was why he was so totally self-absorbed.

"It was my good fortune that your plane got in early," Sonny murmured.

"Mine too." He'd mentioned that four times now. It wasn't really his fault that he was … dull.

Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips.

Sophie waited, hopeful.

Nothing happened. His practiced, romantic gesture only confirmed what she'd been gradually discovering all afternoon. However smooth the moves, when this man touched her, she didn't respond at all.

"I had a really lovely time," Sonny said. Very gently, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was very soft, very warm – an expert caress of tongue and lips.

And it left her unmoved.

When she drew back, she kept a smile on her face. His eyes told her that he at least had enjoyed the kiss.

"Are you going to invite me in for a drink?"

"I can't," she said, taking care to inject regret into her tone. "Just as soon as I freshen up, I have to race to meet a client. After that I have to prepare for my presentation tomorrow. But I am so looking forward to relaxing on Saturday. The bulk of my business will be over by then."

He reached out and ran a gentle hand down her hair. "We'll relax together. The vineyard will be crowded, but I have a special treat for you. I remember what you said about wanting to go up in a hot-air balloon, and I have one reserved for us."

"I'll be looking forward to it." Sophie let herself out of the car. At the archway that led into the courtyard of the hotel, she turned and waved. But it wasn't until the doors of the lobby swung shut behind her that she let out a sigh of relief.

Or was it regret? No, she wasn't going to let herself think that way. Dwelling on the fact that she'd switched identities with Mac just so that she could anonymously date a man she wasn't attracted to was not going to be productive.

Squaring her shoulders, she strode across the lobby. Sonny wasn't the only man in the Napa Valley. She would just have to find someone else to date anonymously while she was here. Turning on her heel, she walked back to the small desk where the concierge stood, talking into a phone. The moment he hung up, she beamed a smile at him. "My business dinner has just been canceled. Can you recommend a place nearby where a single girl could have some fun?"

"Sure thing." The concierge placed a list in front of her, then began to run down it, adding to the information that was on the paper. By the time he finished, she had two possibilities in mind.

"Dr. Lloyd…"

The man had to call the name again before Sophie remembered to turn around. He was tall, blond, casually dressed and wearing the kind of sunglasses that reflected back a mirror image. He held a basket of flowers in his hand. "I came in just as you were talking to the concierge. When I heard your name, I thought I might deliver these personally and save one of the bellhops a trip. You are Dr. Lloyd?"

"Yes," Sophie said, digging in her purse for a tip. She handed it to him in exchange for the basket. "Thanks."

"No problem. Enjoy the flowers."

Sophie couldn't help but enjoy the scent. She had to hand it to Sonny Falcone. He had all the moves down pat. Maybe her lack of reaction to him was due to jet lag, and she'd feel differently on Saturday. It wasn't until she got to the top of the stairs that it struck her.

Sonny didn't know her as MacKenzie Lloyd. He couldn't have sent the flowers. Sitting down on the top step, she fished through the blossoms for a card.

There wasn't one.

*

What in the world was she going to come up with next?

Lucas glanced down at the present in the hotel gift-shop bag Mac had been carrying around. To call the thin layer of latex he was wearing a bathing suit was a misnomer – unless you were an Olympic swimmer going for the minimum in aerodynamic resistance.

Turning his head and craning his neck, he attempted to get a view of the back. The suit revealed as much there as it did in the front.

"Are you ready?"

At the sound of Mac's voice, Lucas poked his head out of the cabana. "This suit doesn't cover much…" Neither did hers. In fact, it left enough bare to have his breath clogging his lungs. The tank top fit tighter than a second skin, and it stopped well above her navel. His gaze drifted over her soft, silky-looking skin to the bottom of the suit – a thin triangle of cloth that barely covered her—

"You're embarrassed again," she said, the amusement clear in her eyes.

"And you're definitely not." Stepping out of the cabana, Lucas took a quick look around the pool area to see how many other men were feasting their eyes on her. The heat had driven most of the hotel guests inside where they were either drinking in the lounge or resting up so they could sample some of the nightlife that Key West had to offer. He and Mac were alone except for the young man behind the towel booth about fifty yards away.

When they'd arrived, he'd introduced himself as Yancey and waved them toward the cabana, all the while assuring them that he'd guard Mac's duffel bag with his life should they care to swim off to a more private part of the lagoon.

"Very nice suit," Mac said.

When Lucas glanced toward the towel booth, he saw that Yancey was giving him a three-fingered wave.

"I think Yancey likes you," Mac said. "In a totally sex-object sort of way."

Lucas looked at her. "That seems to be the story of my life lately."

"Are you ready to get started?"

For one moment, he was tempted to grab her wrist and drag her into the cabana. The fantasy filled his mind of how quickly he could have her out of that suit. God, he wanted to touch her – to run his hands over that skin at her waist, pale as moonlight, soft as rainwater. He wanted to taste it. The need ripped at him like a rusty claw as he whispered, "Come here, Doc."

She took a step forward, then stopped. "You want to make love to me in the cabana."

"You think?"

"That's amazing. At least fifty-five percent of the men interviewed fantasize about making love in a place where they might get caught. I thought the number was a little high. Is that one of your favorite fantasies too?"

Lucas never before would have lumped himself in with that fifty-five percent. He couldn't ever recall wanting to take the kind of risk that she was talking about. That he was thinking about. But he'd come very close to doing something in that lounge that might have gotten him arrested. Truth told, he was skating on pretty thin ice again.