A Girl by Any Other Name (79 page)

Then the birthday cake came and all I could do was scowl. It looked like a floating, blazing

inferno with all the colorful glowing wax sticks perched on it. I counted quickly. Forty fucking

candles… Was she crazy?

“I hope you got the fire marshal’s approval for this,” I said. I noticed that even the waiter was

holding it nervously away from his body before he set it down with apparent trepidation in front of

me. I felt the heat on my face like I was in front of a roaring fire, but there was nothing cozy about his

cake.

“I thought it would be fun,” Libby said, clapping her hands.

I shook my head. I blew out the candles, hoping I had enough breath in my lungs for this exercise

in embarrassment. I didn’t. They all flickered, went out then came back on.

Libby giggled with a child-like glee. “Trick candles.”

I shot her a venomous glare. “You know I’m forty-three and not three, right?”

“Sorry, it might have been too much,” she said, looking contrite.

I couldn’t stay mad at her. She had spent too many nights pulling me out of dark places. A person

has to be willing to go to hell to save someone from it, and Libby had done that for me.

“Help me out before we burn the place down,” I said, putting my arm around her. We managed

to blow out all the candles after three attempts.

A heavy, festively wrapped box was thrust upon my lap. I looked up to see Jeff standing there,

running his hands through his thinning hair, covering the beginnings of a steep widow’s peak. “I was

in charge of buying the present. I hope you like it.”

I smiled. “You guys shouldn’t have gotten me anything.” The dinner was extravagant enough and

the last thing I wanted was a present.

“
We
didn’t. That’s from Jeff,” Libby said.

“Thank you.” I was both surprised by and uncomfortable with the gesture. I carefully tore

through the wrapping paper, ripping at the corners.

Libby leaned in, whispering in my ear, “I bet you wish you were unwrapping Mr Tall, Dark and

Sexy back there.”

I giggled, shaking my head and tore off more of the paper. As soon as I read the flourishing script

on the box, I decided to refrain from opening the whole thing.

“It’s very nice. Thank you so much, Jeff,” I said, hoping it sounded sincere.

Libby peered over my shoulder to get a better look. “I don’t even know what it is.”

“It’s a doughnut maker,” Jeff responded with pride. “I know how much she loves doughnuts and

now she can make her very own.”

I wondered for a moment why he thought that before I remembered. We’d discussed our favorite

pastries for some reason during a lull in his complaints about his family. I realized he’d purchased

this with sincerity, and possibly as a way to create the pretense of a deeper relationship than existed.

In an odd way, it was touching.

“You bought her a doughnut maker? She doesn’t even know how to bake cookies for God’s

sake.” Libby’s voice rang out, halting all side conversations at our table.

Jeff turned beet red, making the wide expanse of his forehead more noticeable.

I shot Libby an admonishing glance. “It’s a very nice present, and I’ll treasure it. I’ll learn how

to use it and make you all doughnuts.”

Libby tapped her long nails against the table. “Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it. I hope you kept

the receipt Jeff.”

“I did—”

I held up my hand, “Absolutely not, I love it. Thank you, Jeff.”

Everyone dispersed as soon as cake was over, except Libby and Jeff, who lingered behind. Jeff

took up Libby’s vacant seat when she went to use the facilities.

“Julie, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I really messed up and I would really like another

date with you.”

I didn’t really want to, but I found it difficult to reject him. Libby said I was a people-pleaser,

and I couldn’t make an exception even on my own birthday. “Sure, give me a call.”

As we walked out of the restaurant, I spotted Victor Ivanov, sitting at the bar, sipping a gold-

colored drink in a short glass.

“I need to thank him,” I said to Libby.

“Make sure you thank him a lot. Let me know if you need help thanking him,” Libby said.

Thankfully, Jeff was out of earshot.

“I’ll wait for you,” Jeff offered. Wow, he had good ears, judging from the scowl that he was

giving Victor.

Victor turned in our direction then, as if he could feel our gazes on him. His tie hung loose and

his jacket was off, making him look even younger. His black hair was slightly disheveled, and fell

almost artfully across his forehead. I didn’t think it was possible, but he actually looked hotter than he

had when I’d fallen into him. I found myself breathing hard, unable to form coherent words. He gave

me an amused nod, holding his drink up in a toast.

“Come on, Jeff. She’s a grown woman.” Libby grabbed Jeff’s arm. “You’ll call me if you need

me,” she added, giving me a warning look.

“I’m just thanking him,” I replied, a little perturbed she’d think my intentions were deeper.

The fact was they were, but I didn’t like being called out on it. I hadn’t thought of much else but

our small exchange all through dinner. I had spent the whole time coming up with the most charming

words to communicate my gratitude. Okay, I was really debating with myself. For the first time in my

life, I was contemplating a one-night stand.

“Of course you are, dear. I’ll take this to your apartment.”

Libby relieved me of the awkward birthday present. I’d moved into her building after the

divorce, so she lived just downstairs from me. When I turned to deflect her comment, she was

practically ushering Jeff out of the restaurant. I smiled, watching them speak with animated hand

gestures, until he finally acquiesced and took her arm.

I walked over to the bar, trying my best for a sexy saunter, but I knew I was too jittery to achieve

any such goal. My legs were shaking like I’d stepped onto an electrified floor. It didn’t help that he

watched me the whole way, biting his lip.

“Thank you for the wine. It was delicious,” I said when I finally approached him.

“Only the finest things should ever touch your lips, Julianne.”

I swallowed, wondering why I’d thought this was a good idea. “You can call me Julie. That’s

what everyone else calls me.”

He shook his head. “I have no desire to be like everyone else, especially when it concerns you.”

“Do you always come on so strong?”

He pulled out the empty barstool next to him and gestured for me to sit. As soon as I perched

myself on it, he pulled it closer to him with his foot, so we were only inches apart. I couldn’t believe

how swift his movements were. His legs had to be very muscular to glide the stool over with my

weight on it. He leaned closer to me, dropping his voice to a husky whisper, “I know what I want and

I don’t like to waste time. The only question is, what do you want?”

This was getting too dangerous. Talking to him was like stepping into quicksand—and I knew

my feet were in danger of sinking deeper with every phrase he uttered.

“I just wanted to thank you. I need to be on my way.” I was losing my nerve. He was far too

charming and salacious for the likes of me.

He clasped my hand. “Have a celebratory drink with me, at least.”

“What are we celebrating?” I asked, staring at my trembling hands.

He laughed. “Your birthday, of course. I would rather celebrate with a traditional birthday

spanking, but this will do…for now.” The last two words were stretched out and followed by a

delicious grin.

I swallowed, trying not to grimace.

He tilted my chin so I was staring at him. “Why aren’t you happy it’s your birthday, Julianne?”

Sexy, strong, and perceptive…damn.

“Did you see my cake? It had forty candles on it!”

He smirked. “Sweetheart, I think everyone within a twenty-mile radius could see it. I’m sure the

kitchen had fire extinguishers on standby.”

“Very funny. Birthdays are not as special when you reach a certain age.”

“It’s just a number, and you don’t look forty.”

“That’s because I’m forty-three. My friend, Libby, was trying to be somewhat merciful and

stopped at forty candles.”

He motioned to the bartender and ordered a glass of wine I was pretty sure cost more than my

outfit. “You make forty-three look incredible.”

I wondered how he was so quick with every line, as if he had a script for our evening—one that

no one had bothered to give me. He was as smooth as the wine he ordered for me.

“Even if you are not, I am happy to celebrate any day when such loveliness came into the

world.”

“That’s sweet, Casanova, but how old are you?” If I was a betting woman, I would have said

mid-twenties, but surely no man that age could afford a tailored Armani suit and an outrageously

expensive bottle of Chablis.

“I’m twenty-eight. Now can we stop talking about numbers? Math was never my strong suit.”

I took a sip of the glass of heaven he’d ordered, savoring the nuances of earth and fruit. “This

has a very delicate flavor.”

“Much like yourself, I imagine.”

Damn…did he have an answer for everything?

“I believe in speaking my mind, but I assure you my goal in not to make you uncomfortable.”

“What is your goal?”

“To make you come.”

“Come where?”

He laughed in low, husky voice that made me quiver. “It was a complete sentence.”

I bit my lower lip, willing my heart to stop its crazy double beat. “You’re very cocky.”

He reached for my hand in a gentle, but firm hold. “Why don’t you come and find out…not in that

order, of course.”

I almost choked the wine, which was far too expensive to waste. “I think I should go.”

“What are your reservations? Is it the man who was making puppy dog eyes at you just now?”

It surprised me that he was observant enough to have noticed Jeff. “He’s just a friend.”

He sighed, narrowing his eyes and tightening his jaw. “It’s apparent he wants more with you. Do

you not see that?”

“Why do you care?”

He paused for a moment, sipping his drink. The golden liquid left a sheen on his lips and I had

an urgent desire to lick it off.

“I’m having trouble articulating my emotions. It’s a new feeling for me.”

“What’s that?”

“I suppose it’s a combination of jealousy and sympathy.”

“Sympathy?” I was equally as surprised by the jealousy, but I decided to keep that one to myself.

“I don’t want him to have you, but I feel sorry for him. You see, I know how the poor fellow

feels, but I have no interest in sharing you.” His openness stunned me. I wasn’t expecting him to be so

candid, but then again everything he did was a surprise.

“Do you usually do this?”

His eyes were so bright they appeared to be twinkling, and his smile was boyish, reminding me

of his age.

“Do what? Enjoy a conversation with a beautiful woman?”

“Choose a woman out of the blue to sleep with?”

“No, I don’t. I doubt you’ll believe me, but I don’t lie. Life doesn’t always give you the best

circumstances. When you see something you want, you should seize it. You fell into my arms and

since that moment, all I’ve been thinking about is how well we would fit. Maybe it’s not traditional,

but I’ve never been much for convention.”

“It was an accident.”

“I don’t believe in accidents. Either way, it was the best thing that’s happened to me in a long

time.” He finished his drink and gestured for another. The bartender was quick to provide a fresh

glass. He put his hand on my knee, rubbing it with his palm. “Julianne Brenan, I’m mesmerized by

you. I think that surprises you, but I’m not sure why. You’re sexy, intelligent and interesting.”

It was funny, I could have used the same adjectives to describe him.

“I want you in my bed tonight so I can explore every inch of you and taste your delicate flavor. If

you’re not interested, I completely understand, although I think you’d only be lying to yourself.” The

huskiness of his voice combined with that British accent was doing some crazy things to my body.

“Why is that? Because your offer is so tempting?” The question came out with more sarcasm

than I’d meant.

“You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t tempted.”

Damn, he was right.

He stood, taking out a keycard then sliding it over to me. “I’m in the penthouse suite. You’ll need

this to access the floor on the elevator. I’m not going to try to talk you into this anymore. It’s your

decision.” He leaned in closer to me, whispering in my ear, “I want to fall into you, Julianne.” He

pressed his lips against my jaw, causing an instant flush of heat to radiate through my body, followed

by dampness between my legs.

He turned to the bartender. “Jenny, please put all the lady’s drinks on my tab.”

I watched him walk away with the saunter of a confident man. I had read novels about men like

him. Hell, I was an active member of book clubs that sought out such tales. He belonged to that

special breed of men who enjoyed their partner’s pleasure as much as their own. The kind of man