A Risky Affair (17 page)

Noah and Daniela exchanged glances. “Then I guess we have nothing to worry about,” Noah murmured.

“Exactly.”

“I see.” Daniela made an exaggerated show of studying her manicured fingernails. “So you probably wouldn't care if I told you that I'll be spending most of the day tomorrow with her.”

Dane glanced up from his task. “Doing what?”

“Daddy Thorne asked me to accompany her on a shopping trip. He says she needs a new wardrobe, but he gets the impression she wouldn't really know where to start.”

Dane chuckled. Not that he would know, either. He'd spent more time trying to get Solange out of her clothing than
into
it. “Well, knowing what a clotheshorse you've always been, El, the old man made the right choice in asking you to go shopping with her. I'm sure you'll help Solange pick out some really nice outfits.”
And skimpy lingerie would certainly be appreciated,
he thought wickedly.

“Yeah, we're going to have a lot of fun hanging out together,” said Daniela. “I can hardly wait to meet her. And then tomorrow evening, Caleb and I are attending a dinner party at the ranch. Crandall called to invite us just as I was leaving the doctor's office. He apologized for the short notice, but said this would be a great way to introduce Solange to a few more people.”

Dane stared at his cousin, the mail he'd been opening all but forgotten. Since parting with Solange that afternoon, he'd been thinking of ways to see her again. A dinner party at Thorne's ranch gave him a perfect excuse.

There was just one problem.

“Think you could, ah, wrangle an invitation for me, as well?” he said, giving Daniela his most disarming smile.

She sent him a blank look, all wide-eyed innocence. “Now why would I want to do something like that?”

Noah, still leaning in the doorway, threw back his head and roared with laughter.

Dane scowled without any real rancor. “Come on, Daniela. Don't make me beg.”

“Why would you do that? You don't even like Daddy Thorne all that much. Why would you beg for an invitation to one of his dinner parties?” At his aggrieved look, Daniela grinned smugly. “I knew it! You
do
have a thing for Solange Washington. Now I
really
can't wait to meet her.”

“You and me both,” Noah drawled with an amused expression. “Maybe I ought to show up at this dinner party as well. Should be rather entertaining to watch our little Dane follow his crush around like a lovesick puppy.”

Dane leveled him with a look that would have cut through granite. Noah merely laughed.

Returning his attention to Daniela, Dane said, “So what do you say, El? Can you hook me up with an invite, or what?”

Daniela smiled, rising from her chair belly-first. “I'll see what I can do. It'll take some creativity—Daddy Thorne wanted to keep the gathering small, and he might not be too thrilled about having you there, especially if he knows what you're after.”

No kidding,
Dane thought as his cousins left the office. He already knew that Thorne would not welcome his presence at the dinner party. On Sunday, he'd practically run Dane off his property, and all but warned him to stay away.

Dane had no intention of complying. He had to see Solange again, even if it meant incurring the old man's wrath and having to endure his insults throughout the evening. He hoped his involvement with Solange wouldn't cost the agency its biggest client, but—selfish as it might sound—it was a risk he was willing to take.

He didn't dare examine too closely the reason he was willing to risk so much for a woman he'd met less than a week ago. There was nothing to examine, he told himself. He and Solange were two mature, consenting adults enjoying a mutually satisfying physical relationship. And when it was over, when they'd gotten enough of each other—as was inevitable—they'd say goodbye and go their separate ways. No drama, no hard feelings. No regrets.

Dane paused, frowning to himself.

If all that were true, why did he have a hard time believing he'd ever get enough of Solange?

And, even scarier, why was he suddenly fighting mental images of her, radiantly beautiful and swollen with their child?

I'm such a fool.

The denunciation reverberated through Solange's mind as she blow-dried her hair after leaving Crandall's office, where he'd dropped his bombshell on her.

The more she thought about the way Dane had played her, the madder she became. She couldn't believe the underhanded tactic he'd resorted to in order to see her again! As if it weren't bad enough that he'd somehow manipulated Rita into telling him where Solange would be that morning, he'd shown up at the convention center with that cockamamie story about him and his partners taking turns attending the monthly meetings, and Solange had fallen for it. What a naive little fool he must think she was. She'd played right into his hands, first agreeing to have lunch with him, then allowing herself to be whisked away to the nearest hotel for a session of raw, uninhibited, mind-blowing sex.

That's what it had been.
Sex.
She refused to assign any other term to what she and Dane had done. They'd been like two wild animals in heat, tearing at each other's clothes and bypassing the bed in order to consummate their passion. And oh, how they'd consummated it.

Solange grimaced at the memory, even as her traitorous body quivered in response. What on earth had she been thinking, sleeping with a man she'd known less than a week? True, she was no prude or wide-eyed innocent, despite the strict upbringing she'd had. She'd snuck out of the house to attend parties and school dances; she'd made out with boys; and at the age of eighteen, she'd lost her virginity to a guy she'd known since childhood, whose family owned a farm right down the road from hers. It was the summer before she was to begin attending the local community college, and he'd convinced her that she needed a hands-on lesson in human sexuality before she set foot in any college classroom. While the experience had been anything but earth-shattering, she'd had no regrets afterward. In fact, she'd learned a lot about herself and her body that day, discovering what she liked and what she
didn't
like.

Amazing that in one encounter, Dane Roarke had not only known just how to pleasure her, but had introduced her to new delights and more erogenous zones than she'd ever known existed.

Blushing furiously, Solange yanked her comb through a stubborn tangle in her thick hair. She had never,
ever,
been as reckless or stupid as she'd been that afternoon. She'd always prided herself on being cautious and responsible and exercising impeccable judgment when it came to the opposite sex. Just to be sure he was really into her, she'd made Lamar wait three whole months before they slept together—which was practically unheard of nowadays. Yet Dane, who she'd already determined was no good for her, had needed less than a week to get her naked and between the sheets. Five days, to be exact. How embarrassingly sad.

The worst part of it was that she had no one to blame but herself. She couldn't blame her reckless actions on the one margarita she'd consumed with lunch, nor could she blame the incredibly romantic setting of the Riverwalk.

She alone was responsible for the terrible lapse in judgment she'd made that afternoon. She had been seduced by a master—a gorgeous, virile man who was accustomed to going after what he wanted and meeting with no resistance. She'd been a willing—no,
eager—
participant, enjoying every last minute of the wicked seduction.

And now, as she stood before the bathroom mirror contemplating her flushed cheeks, smoky eyes and painfully erect nipples protruding from her sweater, Solange was faced with yet another dilemma.

Now that she'd experienced lovemaking with Dane, she knew she'd been ruined for all other men.

Including Lamar.

A
t 8 a.m. sharp the next morning, the Rolls Royce limousine carrying a drowsy, bleary-eyed Solange glided to a stop at the curb in front of the high-rise apartment building where Caleb and Daniela Thorne resided.

Solange, who'd dozed off and on during the fifty-minute drive from the ranch to compensate for a restless night, gave a small start as the back door was opened by Crandall's longtime chauffeur—a stoic, distinguished-looking gentleman who was known only as Mr. Bailey.

Solange climbed out of the luxurious limo and murmured her thanks to the driver before crossing to the entrance of the building. A uniformed security guard stationed at the reception desk in the marble-tiled lobby called Daniela to let her know her guest had arrived, then escorted Solange to a gleaming bank of elevators and tipped his cap to her.

She was inexplicably nervous as she rode the elevator to the sixteenth floor. She felt as if she were meeting her boyfriend's family for the first time, which was utterly ridiculous since Dane was not her boyfriend—and never would be.

The moment Daniela Thorne flung open the door, Solange realized she'd had no reason to be nervous.

Daniela beamed a wide, welcoming smile at her. “Why, hello, Solange! It's so good to finally meet you! Come in, come in,” she urged, gently clasping both of Solange's hands and tugging her inside the penthouse.

“It's good to meet you, too,” Solange said with an answering smile. “I've heard such wonderful things about you.”

“That goes both ways.” Daniela grinned, and Solange wondered what, if anything, Dane had told his cousin about her. “May I offer you a cup of coffee or juice?”

“No, thank you. I had breakfast before I left this morning—Ms. Rita insisted.”

Daniela laughed. “I'm not surprised. She loves to mother and fuss over all of us like we're her children. Every time Caleb and I visit the ranch, she makes me eat and eat until I'm positively stuffed. Especially ever since I became pregnant. ‘You're eating for two now,' she's always reminding me. As if I could forget this bowling ball I've been carrying around for months.”

Solange smiled. Daniela Thorne was a strikingly beautiful woman with glowing brown skin, curly black hair that was swept off her slender neck into a neat twist, exotic features and glittering dark eyes that reminded Solange of Dane's, even down to the enviably long lashes. Although she was casually dressed in jeans and a red cashmere sweater that gently hugged the swollen mound of her belly, she still managed to look effortlessly sleek and stylish. Standing beside her, Solange felt rather gauche in her own jeans and faded Dallas Cowboys sweatshirt.

“When are you due?” she asked.

“End of February,” Daniela replied.

“Really?” Solange couldn't hide her surprise. “You barely look four months pregnant!”

Daniela made a pained face. “Girl, I know. It's the bane of my existence. For all this boy has put me through, you would think he'd at least have the courtesy to make me
appear
seven months pregnant. It's hard to moan and gripe about swollen ankles and a sore back when you're not as huge as a beached whale, know what I mean?”

Solange chuckled. “Well, I really appreciate you taking the time to go shopping with me today. Apparently Mr. Thorne doesn't approve of my, uh, modest wardrobe,” she added with a small, self-deprecating smile.

“Oh, don't you worry about that,” Daniela said dismissively. “If you ask me, this whole shopping excursion is a way for him to spoil you without letting you know that's exactly what he's doing. He told me not to worry about a spending limit, so, girl, we are gonna shop till we drop!”

Solange grinned, her spirits buoyed by Daniela's infectious warmth and humor.

As her hostess headed from the room to put on her shoes, Solange swept an appreciative glance around the spacious penthouse. There was a gleaming expanse of hardwood floor, and colorful, contemporary furnishings were tastefully arranged around a large living room that boasted twenty-foot ceilings, a wood-burning fireplace and a pair of tall French doors that opened onto enclosed side porches. Fifteen-foot windows with wrought-iron bars commanded a panoramic view of the sunny downtown skyline.

“You have a very beautiful home,” Solange remarked, wandering over to the windows and peering outside.

“Thanks, Solange,” Daniela called from the back. “It was my husband's bachelor pad for years. Ever since we got pregnant, he's been asking me if I want to move to a house in the suburbs so the baby will have a backyard to play in as he grows up. But I'm not ready to leave downtown. I absolutely love it here! There's so much to do and see—the historic Majestic Theatre, museums, art galleries and parks that are within easy walking distance, and the Riverwalk is only a block away. Have you been to the Riverwalk, Solange?”

“Um, yes. It's lovely.” Solange was glad Daniela could not see the hot blush that flooded her cheeks.

“I adore the Riverwalk. I've had so many wonderful experiences there, including my first date with Caleb. It was the most romantic night of my life, a night I'll never forget.”

Solange knew the feeling, unfortunately.

Carefully composing her features, she turned as Daniela reappeared, wearing a pair of low-heeled designer leather boots and applying a slick coat of raisin-colored gloss to her full lips. “If Caleb really insists on moving,” Daniela said, “I suppose I could readjust to living in the suburbs. Before we got married, I lived in the King William District—a quaint, historic part of town—in an adorable little bungalow. I couldn't bear to sell it when I moved in with Caleb, so we decided to keep it and rent it out. My cousin Dane is living there now. You've met him, haven't you?”

Solange swallowed convulsively. “A few times,” she answered vaguely.

Daniela nodded. “He's renting out my house until he decides whether or not to return to Philadelphia.”

Solange's heart gave an involuntary little thump. Her gaze sharpened on Daniela's face. “He's moving back East?”

“Oh, I hope not. I've been doing my best to convince him to stay in San Antonio. Next to my brother Noah, Dane is the second best friend I've ever had. He's five years older than me and grew up in Houston, but we've always been very close. Whenever he visited us during the summers, we always had so much fun together, and between him and Noah, I never had to worry about bullies. Dane likes to tease me about being named after him, even though we all know I was named after my great-great-grandmother.” She rolled her eyes playfully. “Anyway, he's turned my cozy little bungalow into quite the bachelor pad. I figure if he likes living there enough, he'll decide to stay. And, hey, if he finds another reason to make San Antonio his permanent home, that's even better.”

When Solange said nothing, Daniela smiled brightly at her. “Ready to shop?”

They were driven to The Shops at La Cantera, a beautiful, upscale retail village that drew affluent shoppers from across the state and from as far south as Mexico, according to Daniela.

Even without that knowledge, Solange would have been a little dazzled as she stepped from the limousine. In Haskell, her shopping choices had been woefully limited to a few strip malls that housed a JCPenney or Sears—and sometimes both, if she was lucky. She'd certainly never been to anyplace as impressive as this sprawling open-air marketplace, which boasted high-end department stores and restaurants, and was surrounded by luxury hotels and golf courses.

“You need at least three black skirts of slightly varying lengths, three pairs of black slacks and two matching jackets.” Daniela ticked off the items as she tugged Solange along to Neiman Marcus. “And those are just the basics. You'll also need several well-cut suits that are stylish and trendy, but still very professional. You're young, so you want to be taken seriously, but you don't have to look matronly in the process.”

Solange wondered just what Crandall had told his daughter-in-law about Solange's attire. She didn't dress
that
badly, did she?

Before Solange could answer her own silent query, Daniela shoved a red skirt suit at her from the DKNY collection. “Bold colors really make a statement, and I think you'd look great in this suit. No, don't look at the price! Crandall said we shouldn't worry about a spending limit, remember?”

Solange, gaping at the price tag, opened her mouth to protest, but no sound would come forth; she imagined she must look like a guppy out of water, gasping for air.

Daniela chuckled. “Don't worry, we're not going to bankrupt your boss before you've even received your first paycheck. You may find this hard to believe, especially considering that we're standing in the middle of Neiman Marcus, but I can be a very frugal shopper when I want to be. I love a good bargain, so I'm going to make sure we get the most bang for our buck. Now come on, let's find the dressing room and see how stunning you look in this suit.”

Over the next two and a half hours, Solange submitted to being inspected, poked and prodded, and ordered back and forth to dressing rooms in three different department stores while overly solicitous salespeople hovered nearby, eager to do Daniela's bidding simply because she'd casually mentioned being related to Crandall Thorne.

As the two women were leaving Macy's, their arms laden with shopping bags, a long, deep sigh escaped Solange, drawing a sympathetic chuckle from Daniela.

“I'm sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I've worn you out, haven't I?”

Solange let out a choked laugh. “
Me?
What about you? You're the expectant mother here. Aren't
you
exhausted? I mean, like, aren't your ankles swollen by now?”

Daniela shook her head, amused. “Girl, there are three things I
always
have energy for. Shopping for clothes, going antiques hunting with my mother and, well, let's just say the third is what got me in this condition in the first place,” she said, grinning and rubbing her gently rounded belly.

Solange laughed.

“I'm starving,” Daniela announced. “Wanna grab lunch before we finish shopping?”

Solange's laughter quickly turned into a groan. “You mean we're not finished yet? What else is there to get? I think we bought every pant and skirt suit made by Donna Karan and Diane von Frankenberg.”

“Furstenberg,” Daniela smilingly corrected. “And, no, we're not finished yet. We still have to find you the perfect little black dress, a new handbag or two and other must-have accessories. Do you like Chinese?”

“Food or clothing?”

Daniela grinned. “Girl, you are crazy. You know very well I'm talking about food.”

“I love Chinese food.”

“Great! Let's dump these bags in the limo, then head over to P.F. Chang's. I've been craving their lettuce wraps for weeks.”

Over lunch at the sleek, trendy restaurant filled with early holiday shoppers, Solange and Daniela laughed and conversed as if they'd been acquainted for years instead of a few hours. Daniela asked Solange a lot of questions about her family and life in Haskell, and shared stories about her own upbringing.

“It sounds like you and your family are very close,” Solange remarked as the waiter refilled her water glass, which she'd drained after a few bites of the delicious, but very spicy kung pao shrimp.

“We are close,” Daniela agreed. “We had to be after my father died. I was barely a year old, so I have no memories of him. My mother was fairly young herself. She went back to school to get a degree in nursing so she could take care of me and my brothers. We all had to grow up very quickly, and even though it took my rebellious brother Kenneth a bit longer to get that message through his thick skull, I think we turned out pretty well.”

“I'd say. You're all well-educated, happily married and the proud owners of a very successful private-investigation agency.”

Daniela grinned. “Yeah, but these days I'm more of a silent partner. I left the business three years ago to attend law school and become an attorney.”

Solange nodded. “Dane mentioned to me that you're currently on maternity leave. What was it like working at Crandall's law firm?”

“Well, I can tell you that in the six months I worked there as a junior associate, I learned a great deal about criminal law and litigation. Crandall has some of the best attorneys in town working for him, and I'm not just saying that because he's my husband's father and he was kind enough to offer me a job fresh out of law school. Instead of shunning me or giving me a hard time just because I'm the boss's daughter-in-law, a few of the senior partners really took it upon themselves to mentor me and show me the ropes, and although I know I'm not interested in practicing criminal law, the knowledge and experience I've already gained will prove invaluable when Caleb and I eventually launch our own firm. Have you ever thought about going to law school, Solange?”

“Definitely. That's part of the reason I accepted the position with Crandall. Of course,” she added grimly, “during my interview he informed me in no uncertain terms that he has no interest in being a mentor to anyone.”