Double Her Fantasy (2 page)

“She’s a graphic artist. One of the best in the world. From Canada.”

“Canada? Shit.” He turned his head forward again. “That’s halfway around the world from Texas.”

Trey laughed. “Did you flunk geography?” He touched a link to her website. “And anyway, who said we’re bringing her home with us? Least, not until we get to know her a hell of a lot better.”

“True. She may have the personality of a cactus and the brains of a donkey.”

Trey stared at Megan Shore’s avatar. A cartoon image of herself. Had
she
drawn it? It was really good. “Private person.”

“Huh?”

Turning the face of his phone to his brother, Trey grinned. “Artist’s rendering instead of a picture.”

“Shit, even in the drawing she’s sexy.”

“For the face and body you swear she’s got, I’d spend the time getting to know her.” He accessed her bio. “See if she’s got a personality, and a…” Her education was impressive. “Says she’s got a master’s degree. So much for your donkey brain theory.”

“Aw, hell.” Garret chugged down his water, crushed the bottle, and tossed it in the trash bin. “She recognized me in the elevator. She’s gotta think I’m the biggest ass this side of Mexico.”

Trey sucked in a breath as a plan formed. “You willin’ to apologize to the lady, little brother?”

Their eyes locked as ideas wordlessly flew back and forth between them for a few seconds. It’d be Garret’s decision whether to pursue her or not. He was always alert to the possibility of choosing the wrong woman, someone who’d sell their story to the tabloids.

Garret sat up. “Make it happen.”

****

That evening, Megan trudged out of the elevator on the 37th floor. Just a few more steps and she could take off her shoes and release her feet from their torture. It’d been a long day.

“Good evening, Ms. Shore.” The young man behind the concierge desk stood. “Do you have a moment?”

No!
“Yes, of course.”

“You had a floral delivery. I set them on the entry table in your suite.”

They must be from the convention organizers. Or…she froze as dread tightened her chest. Could it be from her stalker? She brushed aside the fear. It’d been years. He couldn’t find her. Especially not here. He’d never think to look for her at a comic book convention.

“Thank you.” She started walking. She should tip him, but didn’t have the energy just then. Besides finding out who sent the flowers, a hot bath, room service, and a long night’s sleep were all she could focus on.

She entered the modern cherry wood and brass room and kicked off her heels before the door closed behind her. Thick, white carpet cushioned the soles of her feet. “Mmm.”

Dropping her purse, she picked up the large box overflowing with flowers and carried it into the living room. Collapsing on one of the black leather couches, she stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the Chicago skyline and the lake. Which one was it? She shrugged. One of the Great Lakes. She’d never paid attention in geography class.

She unwrapped the cellophane and peeled back the box to reveal an outrageously expensive crystal vase filled with a fireworks display of brightly-colored flowers. Burying her nose in them, she sniffed the heavy scent of pink and yellow roses, the sweet, earthy perfume of red carnations, and a dozen more she didn’t know the names of.

“How lovely.” Plucking the envelope from the middle of the arrangement, she slid out the card.
Thanks for running interference. Join me for a drink tonight. 8 p.m. Suite 3714. Garret.

That same little thrill-chill she’d enjoyed in the elevator raced through her. “Drinks with Garret McGatlin.” This was turning out to be the wildest day of her life. Running into him in the elevator, an invitation to his suite. Maybe more? A kiss?

“I’m going to let him kiss me, too.” She picked up the vase and set the flowers in the middle of the coffee table, tossed the trash, and grabbed her phone out of her purse.

Six-thirty. She had time to order supper, take a bath, and choose something slinky, but not too obvious, to wear. Walking into the bedroom, she dialed the phone and opened the closet to flip through her limited wardrobe.

Her best friend answered on the first ring. “What are you up to?”

“Beth, you are not going to believe this. I have a date in an hour and a half with Garret McGatlin.”

“You what?” Her voice hit manic level.

She pulled out a dark pantsuit. “I know, right? I rode the elevator with him, flirted a little, but that was it. Somehow he found out who I was and sent me an invitation.” She hung the suit back in the closet and walked to the window. “Inside a gorgeous bouquet of flowers.”

“You’re serious?
The
Garret McGatlin? Movie hunk?”

“Yes, the one and only.” She puffed out a breath. “What do I wear?”

“Girlfriend…” Beth assumed her no nonsense voice. “Tell me what’s in your closet, and I swear if it’s all pantsuits, I’m going to disown you.”

An hour and a half later, wearing the only dress she’d packed, Megan stood at the opposite end of the 37th floor, in front of his suite. Looking down at the purple and pink geometric print short-sleeved dress, she considered going back to her suite and changing into a pantsuit. But Beth was right, her pink, peep-toed patents with four-inch heels were too cute to be hidden under pant legs.

Pasting on a smile, she rang the illuminated doorbell.

This was it. The realization of her fantasy evening with the sexiest man on the big screen—or any screen—had her stomach jittering and her nipples puckering.

The door swung open and she held her breath. Not Garret, but he looked quite a bit like him. Handsome but in a more rugged way.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She stepped back and looked at the suite number. “I was looking for—”

“Garret?” His smile was an exact duplicate of the movie star’s. “He’s delayed in traffic.” A definite Texas drawl. “Sends his apologies, and asked if you’d mind waitin’.”

“No. That’s fine.” The less-intense, more-sensual version of Garret stared at her with blue eyes a shade darker than the star’s. Hair cut shorter in a blonder, sun-streaked, just-cut look, and darker skin. The two men shared the same sexy lips and strong jaw.

He smiled again and her heart dipped and fluttered. Who knew there were two of them?

“I’m Trey, Garret’s brother.” He stepped back, his python cowboy boots incongruous against the plush carpet. His tight jeans skimmed long legs and narrow hips, and a woven leather belt with a good-sized silver buckle rested low on those hips. His light green cotton shirt was open a few buttons at the neck, and rolled up over strong forearms. “Comin’ in?”

Chapter Two

Blinking back from her cowboy fantasy, Megan nodded and stepped inside the McGatlin brothers’ suite. As she passed Trey, a woodsy scent caught in her nostrils. Manly. Outdoorsy. Was he a cowboy, really? She spotted a black cowboy hat on the entry table, which answered her question. What was he doing here in Chicago?

The suite was appointed exactly like hers, but the rooms were bigger, and she noticed two open bedroom doors off the living room. The windows faced the same direction hers did.

“What can I get you?”

His voice came from close behind her and a tingle ran down her spine. She turned to find him right there. Despite her height and heels, he was still a few inches taller. Taller than Garret, maybe.

He stood looking at her, as if he would be content to do just that forever.

Warmth spread through her bloodstream as she took her own long look. His neck looked thick and powerful. A few blond hairs curled at the opening of his shirt. His shoulders and chest spanned wide, and strong biceps curved under the fabric. His chest narrowed at the hips, and daring a few long seconds’ stare below his belt buckle, she nearly whistled at the sizeable bulge behind his zipper. Her gaze flew back to meet his blue eyes. When a corner of his mouth curled up, she smiled back at him. “I’d like red wine, if you have it.”

“We do. I’ll be right back.” He turned and walked toward the wet bar.

She memorized the tight, round ass as his long strides took him across the room. She’d never dated a cowboy. Turning quickly, she shook her head. She was here as a guest of Garret’s, not his too-sexy cowboy brother.

She stepped slowly toward the wall of windows, prepared to jump back if her slight fear of heights surfaced. “What brings you to Chicago?”

A cork popped and wine sloshed into a glass. “I’m acting as Garret’s manager right now. He fired the last one, and needed a fast replacement.” He walked toward her carrying the wine glass and a bottle of beer.

“You’re from Texas, right?” She took the glass and their fingers brushed. Where their skin touched, hers tingled.

“West Texas, ma’am.” He held out his bottle. “To an interesting night.”

She glanced into his eyes and saw more than just polite interest. His gaze burned hot and sensual, desire written on his face in the slight droop of his eyelids and the wicked curve of his lips.

After touching her glass to his bottle, she looked out the window and let herself fantasize about a night with Trey. A big man like him, used to physical labor. It’d be rough, physical sex. He’d overwhelm her, and she’d love it.

Her mouth watered and she took a drink of wine to curb the desire to taste his lips, sip at his tongue.

“How was your workshop?”

She blinked and remembered that she had, indeed, taught a workshop today. “It went well. Over a thousand participants.”

A laugh rolled from his chest. “You’re popular.”

She couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at her lips, and the sigh that escaped them. “No, I just know how to draw.”

He leaned closer, his face so strong in shape and character. “Tell me about that. How did you end up in the comic book field?”

She saw real interest in his eyes. Megan talked about her love of drawing, her choice of graphic arts, and her decision to get a master’s degree to help her manage her own career.

When she asked about his life, Trey explained that he ran the family ranch for their parents who’d retired. Between sips of wine, she asked dozens of questions about raising cattle, breeding horses, and what the huge ranch looked like.

He told her about Garret’s driving need to get away from Texas, his first job as a stuntman in Western movies, and the big break that pushed him into mega-stardom.

“Does he ever visit the ranch?” She finished the last sip of her wine.

“He’s there every chance he gets. I think he finally appreciates the solitude of the Silver Spur.”

“Such a pretty name.”

Trey stepped closer and touched her arm. “You’d love it there.”

Megan’s breath caught. Was that an invitation?

“You’re an interesting woman, Megan.”

Her flesh pebbled as he wrapped his big, calloused hand around her bicep. “You’re very interesting, too.” Oh, jeez, did that ever sound stiff.

He grinned and gestured to the bar. “More wine?”

“Sure.” Maybe another few ounces would loosen her up a little.

Trey led her to the bar, his hand on her arm, his fingers brushing the outside of her breast.

Warmth swelled deep inside her, clutching at her core, making her feel more reckless than just from the wine’s effect.

She shimmied up onto the barstool he held for her. Such a gentleman.

When he walked behind the bar, his phone rang. He pulled it out. “It’s Garret. Excuse me while I take this?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

As he spoke to his brother, she took a critical, professional look at his face.

He splashed a little more wine in her glass and pulled a beer from somewhere underneath the bar as he talked with Garret about an upcoming appearance.

A pad of paper and a pen sat on the other end of the bar. She reached for it but Trey beat her to it and slid it in front of her.

She drew him. A quick sketch, just his face, strong and thoughtful, his black hat shining, his eyes twinkling.

He set his phone aside. “He’s just pulling up to the building.”

She turned the drawing toward him.

He picked it up and leaned his elbows on the bar, staring at it. “Wow. It’s great.” He glanced at her. “You have a lot of talent.”

Megan played with the stem of her wineglass. “Many years of school, many years of practice.”

“Megan.” His voice rumbled like a herd of buffalo across the prairie. He set down the pad and ran his fingers over her forearm. “You’ve impressed me just in the last half hour.”

Her breath caught. Her lips parted to deflect the compliment, but the look on his face—fascination mixed with desire—kept her silent.

“I don’t mean just your beauty, ‘cause you are, you know.” His words, spoken in his soft Texas drawl, coursed down her spine, catching in her core and shaking her until she had no self-restraint left.

If he leaned over the bar, she’d lean right back at him and grab him around the neck, kiss the breath out of him. What was it that drew her to him? He was a nice guy, sexier than sin, and smart; easy to talk to. That and whatever crazy pheromones flew back and forth between them, and she could easily be lured into his bedroom.

“Garret talked about you.”

His words shocked her back from the edge of fantasy.

Trey stared at her, a determined look on his face. “He said you were beautiful.”

Did he think Garret had a claim on her? She shook her head. “We didn’t hit it off very well this morning.”

Trey nodded, but didn’t say anything more.

How could she make him understand she’d come here for Garret, but would prefer to spend her time with him? And how to explain it without coming off trampy?

The door opened behind her and she turned to see the movie star walk in.

“Hello!” He strolled across the room, big and confident, a perfect smile and gorgeous hair. His personality filled the room, unlike his brother’s strong but quiet presence. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic.” He reached her side and took her hand, kissing it.

She’d never had her hand kissed before, and she had to hold back a giggle.

“Did my brother keep you entertained?” The men looked at each other. So similar in their large bodies, Trey was the taller of the two, but not by much. His short hair fit his personality, looking neat and in control while Garret’s was styled longer to bring out the sexy waves.