My Double Life: Wild and Wicked (6 page)

And no matter what fantasies I might have had about Trey, relationships with clients were off-limits.

“I hope so.” I had my digital tablet tucked in my bag and a few notes prepared to help him with cyber security. “That is, yes.”

Belatedly, I remembered to be more firm. Direct. If I was going to succeed as a public speaker, I had to articulate better.

“Great.” He glanced down at my feet and I remembered I wore canvas tennis shoes. “Those are perfect for what I have in mind.”

I was relieved, since I’d had every intention of bringing a pair of high heels to work today specifically for this lunch. But my mom had called right before I went out the door, rattling me with her monthly barrage of questions about what I planned to do with my life. She still didn’t acknowledge me in public since I continued to embarrass her in her perfect world, but she hadn’t given up on her quest to mold me into a better human being. She still signed me up for elocution classes I didn’t attend, and design workshops intended to help me learn how to dress with more flair.

Um. No thanks, Mom.

“Really?” I stepped through the office doors and out into the noontime heat. A few threatening clouds were rolling by, but for now the day was just humid and hot. “Are we doing a vending truck? There’s a Greek guy the next block up who sells gyros that are...” I was too enraptured with my culinary memories to describe the taste “...amazing.”

“No.” Trey guided me through a handful of suit-wearing businessmen who walked elbow to elbow, all talking on their cell phones. “My car’s this way.”

Trey’s hand on the small of my back was fleeting but sexy. My skin tingled in that spot even after he ended the contact.

“Now I’m curious.” About Trey, I realized. Immediately I felt flustered. “I mean, about where we’re going.”

“Do you like surprises?”

“Actually, yes.” I spotted a low-slung black Jag down the street and guessed it belonged to him. “You might not think that a shy, quiet girl like me would go for surprises, but my parents were both older when I came along and they never did anything without major planning.”

Trey’s hand moved to my back again and he guided me around a corner onto a side street. Turned out the Jag wasn’t his. I caught the tiniest hint of his scent and wished I could move closer.

“Shy?” he asked, tilting his head at an angle to peer into my face. “I would have never taken you for shy.”

Oh, my God. Something about his tone of voice made me think he knew my secret. He knew I was the dancer at Backstage. My heart pounded wildly and my feet got a little tangled.

Trey took my arm, an amused smile on his face.

“Here’s my car.” He pointed to a big white sport utility vehicle.

“I would have never taken you for an SUV kind of guy.” I was happy to redirect the conversation since I had no idea what to say to his assertion that I wasn’t shy. Everyone thought I was shy—at least, people who didn’t know me.

“Then I guess we’re already surprising each other,” he observed lightly, opening the passenger door for me and helping me up into the cab.

He came around to the driver’s side and hopped in. We buckled up and he pulled smoothly out into lunch-hour traffic even though it was crazy busy.

“So you like driving a tank?” I used the side mirror to make sure he wasn’t crushing the smaller cars in the next lane when he moved to the right. “I would be a nervous wreck in this thing.”

I was a nervous wreck anyway, being alone with Trey in an enclosed space. A lifetime of my mom’s scathing comments came back to haunt me as I wondered if my outfit matched and if I could get through lunch without stumbling over my words. To distract myself from negative thoughts, I tried to focus instead on his vehicle and wondered if he’d been driving the SUV the other night at Backstage. It seemed plenty roomy. We could have really...had fun.

I had to fan myself to keep from overheating as I pictured his hands all over me.

“It’s a work vehicle,” he assured me, heading west on Sunset Boulevard. “Being in business for myself means I do my own sweat labor. Sometimes I need to haul stuff around.”

Or invite exotic dancers into his backseat? I sneaked a glance at his thighs and pictured me straddling them.

“You’re a talent agent.” I rolled the window down and let in a little breeze to help cool me off. It was fun being up this high. And I never got tired of the ocean. I lived close to it, but I didn’t see it enough. “How could you possibly get sweaty while talking to casting agents and mailing out headshots?”

That got a laugh out of him, and I enjoyed the sound as we left downtown L.A. behind. He seemed way too serious for a guy born into Hollywood royalty. I knew money didn’t equal happiness, but more often than not, it helped.

“You, of all people, should understand that I have bigger aspirations than managing my client list.” He passed a tourist rubbernecking at a couple of reality stars who stood in a crosswalk with their arms full of shopping bags. “So I work a lot more hours in a day than my primary business demands. But this vehicle has proven helpful even for the talent agency. I have a big-name actor who signed with me and he won’t go anywhere without his St. Bernard. I’d never fit Buddy in a sports car.”

“I’m very curious about your film company development.” I studied his profile to see if I’d ventured into a forbidden topic. “I’d love to know more about that if you don’t mind discussing it.”

“Depends. Are you asking for yourself or as a representative of Sphere?”

“Definitely for myself. But I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine.” He opened the sunroof and I peered up at the palm trees and cloud-filled sky. “I’ve learned to be cautious, but what’s the harm in talking to someone who already knows the plan?”

The miles flew by as he filled me in on a few basics of the industry. I knew a thing or two about start-up businesses, but nothing about the birth of a film company, so I learned a lot. It quickly became obvious that Trey knew what he was doing. It also occurred to me that his father was foolish to let a sharp industry insider like Trey get away.

By the time he turned the SUV up a steep, winding road in the Pacific Palisades, I’d almost forgotten about our lunch date. Er, meeting.

“Where are we?” I looked more closely at my surroundings and felt certain I’d never been here. It seemed an unlikely place for a restaurant.

“Our picnic destination.”

“W-we’re having a picnic?” I hesitated on the words because a picnic felt much more like a date than a meeting. And suddenly I felt more pressured. Wary.

“I realized yesterday that I’ve been busting my ass for months to recover some professional credibility, yet no matter how much I do, my dad is still going to be waiting for me to make a mistake.” He pulled into a parking lot near a grassy field with a sign that read Will Rogers State Park. “I figured I’d better take time to enjoy the journey because I’m sure as hell nowhere near the point in my life where I can escape the old man’s shadow.”

He shut off the SUV and came around to open my door. I began to get nervous now, the relaxed atmosphere of the ride dissipating under the pressure of...helping Trey Fraser enjoy the journey. But he seemed unaware of a shift in mood as he headed around to the back of the vehicle and popped open the rear door.

“Ready?” he asked, handing me a blue blanket while he grabbed a huge, insulated bag. “I hope the rain holds off.”

“Wow.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say because my brain was busy calculating how much time and effort he must have put into planning this. Packing a picnic struck me as incredibly romantic, even though I knew he couldn’t mean it that way.

And yet...what if he did?

I was back to worrying he knew it was me on the stage at Backstage. After all, I could believe that Natalie Night might have gotten under his skin. But me? Courtney? Hell, I was an accountant, and even
I
couldn’t make that one add up.

“What?” He looked my way as we walked past an empty polo field toward some deserted picnic tables. “Are you anti-picnic? An ant phobia, maybe?”

“No.” I followed him past the picnic table to the shade of a big tree, where we stopped. “I’m just surprised that we’re picnicking for a business meeting.”

“First of all, you said you liked surprises.” He took the blanket from me and spread it out in the shade, careful to avoid any tree roots. “Second, I only threw in the part about business to make sure you came.”

His eyes met mine, and his voice dropped down into that range of quiet intimacy.

“Oh.” Apparently he’d had a plan all along. My heart pounded so fast that I felt a little lightheaded. I told myself to speak slowly. Really slowly. Because I was so far off-kilter I was sideways. “Why? That is, why is it important for me to be here?”

This was his chance to call me out on my double identity. He could end the tension right now and confront me on the duplicity. Part of me thought I’d feel better to just acknowledge it. I could always throw myself at his mercy and beg him not to tell my boss.

In fact, being at his mercy didn’t sound bad at all.

“I want to know more about you, Courtney Masterson.” His expression revealed nothing.

Still, my skin hummed everywhere as if he’d just touched me.

“On a personal level?” I wrapped my arms around myself despite the heat of the day because I’d developed goose bumps everywhere.

“I think you know the answer to that.” He pointed to the blanket. “Have a seat.”

I claimed a corner closest to the tree trunk and tried not to hyperventilate. For a few minutes, I watched him unpack the picnic satchel in silence. He pulled out a bottle of excellent champagne and two cut-crystal flutes. I was put in charge of pouring the champagne while he produced cheeses, fruits and a couple of mini baguettes. He had cold salmon on ice and a few chocolates in there, too.

While I fumbled with the foil wrapper and placed a linen napkin over the cork to extricate it, I watched Trey work on the meal presentation. I appreciated him letting me process the whole “I want to know you personally” news at my own speed.

“You’re putting Wolfgang Puck to shame,” I observed as he cut strawberry slices to fan around the center of the fruit plate.

“I figured I would pull out all the stops to seduce the senses.” He held out a strawberry slice toward me. “Would you like a bite?”

My heart stopped. I wondered vaguely how long I could still breathe without that vital organ in motion, but then it kicked into gear again. Now it hip-hopped at a pace that felt like triple-time. This was really happening. I could lose my job for this.

But I was very far from the office right now.

Self-consciously, I parted my lips and leaned forward. Trey’s eyes dipped toward my mouth as he fed me, his knuckle grazing my chin then falling away.

“Delicious.” He hadn’t even tried a berry. He simply focused on my lips.

I was completely flustered. Totally turned-on, but disconcerted too.

“You didn’t need t-to go to all this trouble,” I told him, unused to such intense male attention.

“Didn’t I?” He took the champagne bottle from my hands and finished the job I’d forgotten about. The cork made a light pop when it came free. “I think you’re wrong there. The last time I invited you out, I was stood up.”

He poured my champagne so calmly, no one watching us would have guessed he’d just lobbed a live grenade into my world.

6

T
REY
DIDN
’
T
FEEL
the slightest bit of guilt for shocking Courtney’s socks off.

She was pale and speechless as he handed her a champagne glass and picked up a flute for himself. He hadn’t planned on outing her over lunch, hadn’t even known for sure that she was the dancer he’d propositioned earlier in the week. But he’d had a strong hunch and it seemed like something that needed to be addressed before they moved any further.

Her reaction put his doubts to rest.

“How d-did you know?”

“I wasn’t sure until just now.” He shifted slightly closer to her on the blanket. “But it was bugging the hell out of me that I could be so damn attracted to that dancer
and
you at the same time. I’m a one-woman kind of guy.”

He tipped his glass lightly to hers, the clink making a soft chime in the quiet heat of midday.

“What did you think when you saw the feather?” she asked between small sips.

“I thought it was a coincidence...a cruel trick of the universe...to toss a white feather in my path the night after I let a feather-clad bombshell slip away.” He fixed her a plate and passed it to her since she seemed preoccupied and worried.

Not exactly the mood he’d been going for.

“But then, when you saw the photo of me at the dance studio, you knew?” Absently, she took a grape and he was relieved to see her relax just a little.

He’d bet Courtney needed a hell of a lot more relaxation in her life. And he had a good idea that she found it on stage. He was fascinated by how open she’d been when she was dancing. How confident.

“No. Like I said, I didn’t know for sure that it was you until just now. But when I saw that picture in your office, it made me want to know more about a place called Naughty by Night.”

“Oh, no.” She set down her plate. “You didn’t.”

“I called and asked to speak to Natalie.” He’d guessed the “Night” in the name of the studio was no accident. “They said she’d dislocated an ankle two nights ago and was recovering at home. By the time I did the math, I knew she couldn’t have been the one at Backstage.”

“My company will fire me.” Courtney shook her head, her long dark hair falling in her eyes but doing little to hide her distress. “If they find out—”

She made a helpless gesture and he caught her hand in his.

“They won’t find out from me.”

“Really?” Her narrowed gaze told him she didn’t count on it.

“It won’t do my reputation any favors to hang out with exotic dancers when I’m still representing a few underage clients.” Awkward, to say the least.

Moreover, he wouldn’t give his father the satisfaction of besting him in the credibility department. Not after all the questionable tricks his dad had used to cheat and manipulate his way through the industry.

“So you’ll keep this secret.” She seemed to weigh his sincerity, her gray eyes searching his.

There was something about her tentativeness that made her irresistible. Maybe it was because so many women he’d known were unflinchingly confident and bold in their decisions. They had to be to make it in the film business. Courtney, on the other hand, seemed to think things over carefully.

Yet he had the feeling that anyone who made it past her scrutiny would be a lucky, lucky man.

“I’d like to keep a whole lot of secrets for you.” He set aside his glass and slid their plates to the far side of the blanket.

She peered through her bangs at the nearest tree line and then turned to look back across the polo field toward the parking lot. He already knew it was empty.

“I’d like an example.” She hooked a finger in the long gold chain around her neck and slid a simple leaf charm back and forth.

“An example?” He’d be hypnotized if he kept watching the motion of that charm as it drew his attention from one shapely breast to the other beneath her plain white T-shirt.

“What kind of secret can you keep?” she prompted, unaware the blood flow had slowed to his brain.

He clasped her hand in one of his, halting her nervous jewelry play. Gray eyes widened at his touch. He breathed in the moment and the woman, inhaling the faintest scent of her light perfume.

“This kind.” He covered her lips before she could come up with any other delaying tactics.

He didn’t kiss her. Not yet. Right now, he simply brushed his mouth over hers. Softly. Beneath his hand, the pulse in her wrist went wild, and the knowledge that he’d excited her so easily pumped up his own heart rate.

Only then did he increase the pressure and take a measured taste. Her lips were plump and warm and mobile, parting lightly to accommodate him. Before he went further, he tugged the fullness of her lower lip between his teeth, sucking gently. She tasted like strawberries.

Even better, she purred with pleasure at that small contact, her whole body relaxing under his touch.

Heat blasted through him and it didn’t have a damn thing to do with the midday humidity. Courtney had a strong, distinct effect on him, like a thirty-year-old whiskey he’d never tried before. And a triple shot wouldn’t be enough.

He told himself to go slow. Seduction, right? That was his focus. Yet that soft, pitchy sigh she’d made had gotten right under his skin, and he found himself reaching for her, drawing her closer by the small of her back.

“Wait.” She laid a hand on his chest, her cool, slender fingers sliding over his T-shirt with the gentlest pressure. “What are we doing?”

Relaxing his hold on her, he flattened his hand against her spine but couldn’t quite let go.

“What I’ve wanted to do since I first saw you outside the conference room at Sphere.” He remembered the hair falling over her eyes, the long bangs hiding too much of her. “Taking a taste.”

“You’re a Fraser.” She frowned at this but—thankfully—did not pull away.

He could almost see her nimble mind working through the implications.

“Not a damn thing I can do about that.” He slowed down his breathing, kept his voice level. No easy feat.

Hell, the memory of her in sheer fabric and feathers, crawling toward him on all fours, seared through his brain like a laser. As much as he had revisited that moment in his fantasies at night, he was in no position to deal with it here. Now.

“Why w-would—” She stopped herself and he felt her tense. “You. Are. Famous.” Her words became clipped. Impatient, almost. “We move in very different circles.”

He was fascinated with her lips and the way she formed her words. Deliberate. Thoughtful. A far cry from the way most people in this town spoke. His father, for one, could spew one lie after another without a second thought.

“That doesn’t matter to me.” He took a page out of her book and revised that statement after giving his words some more thought. “No. That’s not true. I think it’s a bonus that you have no ties to the film industry. I’m so sick of the gossip and fishbowl existence.”

She nodded. “And you can keep secrets?”

“Like nobody’s business.”

He braced himself for more questions as a few storm clouds moved in overhead. Instead of quizzing him, however, she twisted her fingers in his T-shirt and drew him closer, arching toward him.

“In that case, how about another kiss?”

* * *

P
OSSIBLY
I
WAS
channeling my inner dancing girl. Because I had entered another realm when Trey kissed me. Inhibitions fell. The insecurity I’d wrestled with my whole life was banished into the next century. I felt beautiful. Empowered.

And so very hot.

I burned from the inside out as Trey’s hand moved up my spine. My head spun like I’d had way more champagne than the three sips I took earlier. Thank heavens this was a public park. Even though it looked like No Man’s Land right now, a park ranger could come along anytime. That should help me keep my clothes on.

At least, I thought it would. There was no telling what spontaneous combustion might do.

I wished I could record this moment forever and replay it like a film. I’d break it down frame by frame and go over and over each one. Sometimes I’d focus on his touch and where his hands heated my body. Other times, I’d concentrate on his kiss and how the play of his lips felt on mine.

As it stood, I only had Right Now, and my senses were so overwhelmed I felt like one mass of tingling nerves. Even my hands buzzed with an almost electric charge. And yet it was only my mouth he focused on, treating it with the most exquisite care.

He kissed like a god. Not too hard. Not too soft. Just awesomely right. I sank backward from this kiss, melting down onto the blanket, boneless from this erotic tasting.

Gently, he cradled the back of my head before it hit the quilted cotton. Better yet, his body followed mine down, so that I had the subtle pressure of his chest against my breasts, the warm weight of one thigh pinning mine. A cooling breeze floated through the trees and rattled the leaves, the rest of the world silent except for a slow rumble of thunder in the distance and the rasp of our breathing. I would never forget this moment and the magic Trey wove for me. Had I said I wouldn’t be getting naked? I was already rethinking this as he bent one knee, his thigh falling deeper between my legs.

Yessss.

I hadn’t said the word aloud, but I was pretty sure I expressed it with my whole body. My legs inched wider. My arms crept around his neck.

Sex loomed in the air, and we hadn’t even taken any clothes off yet.

“Come home with me.” Trey’s words whispered in my ear, the idea implanting itself in my consciousness so subtly it was like I’d thought of it myself.

Go home with Trey.

The idea was insane, and yet the thought was captivating. If he could really keep this secret...would I take the risk? New risks had become more appealing ever since my dance at Backstage. What if I was on some kind of lucky streak where things worked out for me? Then again, maybe I would just lose my heart to him and end up hurt. The more I knew him, the more I liked him. And that made being with him a whole lot riskier than an anonymous sexual encounter, such as the one I might have had with him at Backstage that first night.

More thunder rumbled and the breeze turned suddenly cool as he rolled off me.

“We’d better pack up,” Trey said, glancing at the sky, which was growing darker by the second.

I grabbed the champagne and flutes just as the first fat raindrops hit. Squealing at how cold it felt, I helped him with the blanket and we took off running for the SUV while the skies opened up.

It turned into a deluge in seconds. Trey had the satchel with the food over one shoulder and held the quilt above our heads, but it was already too late. Our shirts were soaked. My hair was plastered to my head. I probably had mascara lines dripping down my cheeks like some kind of Goth clown.

When a loud thunderclap sounded, I almost jumped out of my shoes and grabbed his shoulder. Trey tucked me under his arm and tugged the blanket forward. I felt the heat of his chest right through his soaked shirt and wished I could stay out in the rain forever.

How did I get so lucky as to have this man notice me?

When he hit the remote button to unlock the SUV, I made up my mind. A chance like this might never come my way again and I would regret it forever if I didn’t savor the moment. I would worry about my heart later. And in the meantime, I’d just guard it extra carefully.

“Let’s go to your place,” I said while the blanket still covered us. Even with the noisy downpour above our heads, my softly spoken words bounced around the enclosed space.

No missing my request.

He paused outside his vehicle, standing silently beside me in the rain for a moment before he turned to look at me. His brown eyes were even darker than normal, a heated intensity shining there that I hadn’t seen before. Not even when I’d slid around the dance pole half naked for his entertainment.

“Thank you.” He kissed me—a quick, hard meeting of the mouths that seemed to seal the deal. “You won’t regret it.”

That last part was a whisper in my ear before he pulled away. Shivers chased up my spine and my nipples beaded beneath my shirt. And it had nothing to do with the rain.

Right now, I just wondered how fast his vehicle could go.

* * *

W
E
LAUGHED
A
LOT
on the ride to Trey’s place. That was a fun surprise since I still felt a little jittery about going with him, but we finished our picnic in the SUV and I fed him while he drove. There were sexy moments when he nipped my finger or sucked on it a little longer than necessary. But I also enjoyed myself on a whole other, non-sexual level and wondered how that was even possible.

Somehow, Trey made me more comfortable than I’d ever been with a guy.

“You live in Brentwood?” I had suddenly noticed our whereabouts even though the rain limited visibility.

“In the Mandeville Canyon area.” He slowed down as we turned onto a residential street. “It’s not as elaborate as my dad’s spread, but I like it over here.”

I tucked the leftover food back into the satchel and double-checked the cork in the champagne bottle. Yes, technically we were carrying around an illegal open container. But it’d been closed since we returned to the vehicle and how could we toss expensive champagne after just a few sips? Maybe Trey could afford that kind of decadence, but I hated the thought of wasting.

“I’ve seen pictures of the house you grew up in.” There had been a feature on it in the office copy of
Architectural Digest
. I was struck anew by the vast differences in our backgrounds. Even our current lifestyles. “Out on Malibu Beach, right?”

“Yes.” Brow furrowed, he drummed the steering wheel and his shoulders tensed. His good mood seemed to disappear at the mention of his dad.

I promptly redirected the conversation.

“I’m in Mar Vista.” And lucky to be there, even if my place was ancient. “It’s my dad’s house, but I’m in the process of buying it from him at a ridiculously low price. I think he wants the house to make up for the fact that he checked out on my childhood.”