Erected (Erector Set, Book One) (7 page)

This time the wait was longer but the message shorter.

Thx.

Thanks? After what they shared? Did the episode mean less to her than it did to him? Usually when he spent any time at all with a woman he saw dollar signs flashing in her eyes and she bent over backwards—and in a lot of other directions—to latch onto him like a barnacle. Being rich wasn’t always an advantage. But Ness Bowen seemed almost anxious to be rid of him, despite the intimacy of the previous evening.

Not happening. Definitely.

Gritting his teeth, he typed in another message.

Dinner tonight. Pick you up at 7.

Not a question. He didn’t want to give her a chance to say no outright.

But when his phone beeped again and he saw the message he ground his teeth.

2 busy. Backed up w/rpts. & nd 2 get rental cr.

Oh no, you don’t. You won’t get out of it that easily. Although he had no clue why the hell he should care. If she wanted to blow it off why was that such a big deal?

No backing out. C U @ 7.

He pressed Send then another thought struck him.

Do u hv ride 2 rental?

He didn’t have long to wait for a reply this time.

Persistent. Hv ride 2 cr. OK. C U @ 7.

All right then, Miss Vanessa Bowen. Prepare to be wined and dined and seduced.

Chapter Four

What on earth am I doing?

Ness stood in her bedroom wearing only a towel, and surveyed her closet. Why should she care what she wore to dinner anyway? And why on earth had she left work promptly at five with deadlines looming to come home and get ready for dinner with a man she wasn’t even sure she wanted to see again?

Because you
do
want to see him. At least once more. To find out if—

Stop it! You’re not a horny teenager anymore.

But she couldn’t wipe away the memories of last night. How gentle and caring he’d been. How unselfishly he’d given her erotic pleasure to relax her and take away the nightmare. Surely he deserved at least one more night, right?

Quit simpering and get dressed.

Casual or dressy? Feminine or business?

God! Get a grip here!

She’d popped ibuprofen on a regular basis during the day and the hot soak in the tub when she got home took care of a lot of the residual soreness.

She finally chose black slacks with a watercolor silk blouse in a soft jade that brought out the green in her hazel eyes. Gold hoops at her ears and her favorite chunky gold bracelet. She had just clunked her way to the living room when the doorbell to her condo rang. She looked at the slim gold watch on her wrist. Seven on the dot. The man was punctual.

She took a deep breath to settle herself, opened the door…and that breath got trapped in her throat. If she’d thought him mouthwatering before, tonight he was absolutely delicious. Better than chocolate. Gray slacks and a gray and black striped sport shirt were complemented with a black sports jacket and the unforgettable custom hand-tooled leather boots. But deadliest of all was his fuck-me smile and the look in his eyes that promised a night to remember. His gaze roamed from her face to her feet, dawdling at all points between and making her feel naked and exposed.

“Wow,” he said at last. “Just as good as I remember. Ready to go?”

If she was smart she’d slam the door, lock it and go hide in the bedroom. But her brains apparently deserted her where Joshua McCann was concerned.

“All set.” She picked up her slim evening purse from the hall table, nudged him back into the hallway and closed and locked the door.

He took her elbow as they headed toward the elevator and all during the ride down he kept it there, his fingertips very lightly caressing the crook of her arm. The movement sent ripples of sensation cascading through her body. She wasn’t sure if the pitch in her stomach was from the elevator ride or the feel of the man touching her.

Tonight instead of his custom truck he was driving a Mercedes S-Class sedan, black like his truck. And his clothes. She wondered if black was his signature color or something. As he helped her into the car his fingers brushed against her thigh and lightning speared through her.
Holy mother!

“Just making sure you don’t bump the cast.” His mouth was close to her ear, his breath a warm breeze on her skin.

She hoped she didn’t incinerate before dinner just from being near him. What was
wrong
with her, anyway?

“I should have asked where we’re going.” She glanced at him. “I hope I’m dressed appropriately.”

“You’re just fine.” He chuckled softly. “More than fine.”

“So then, where are we going?”

He merged smoothly into the moving traffic before he answered. “I thought maybe we’d try someplace a little special tonight. Quiet, where we can have good conversation.”

“Oh.”
Good conversation? Jeez, Ness, tongue-tied much?
“And what’s the name of the restaurant?”

“Don’t you like surprises?”

She noticed he’d pulled onto the northbound interstate, not heading toward downtown. Okay. Maybe one of the new restaurants in the northwest part of the city.

“Ness?” he prompted.

“What? Oh. Surprises. Sure. Well,” she amended, “that depends.”

“On what?”

“If it has to do with business, not so much.”

He reached over and closed his hand on one of hers. His fingers were lean and warm and the touch was like an erotic caress.

“Trust me. Business is off the table tonight.”

He turned on the radio and soft music filled the interior of the car. Jazz.

Somehow I expected country music from him.

“Don’t let the pickup fool you,” he chuckled.

Ohmigod. Had she actually said the words out loud? What was wrong with her? She felt as if someone else had taken over her body.

“I certainly didn’t mean to offend you.” She dug deep for remnants of the professional Ness, always in control, always cool-headed. Never rattled. “I really don’t care what you drive. This is nice. So is your truck.”

“No offense taken. But just so you know, I drive the truck for business in case I have to spend any time on one of the jobs.” His voice was tinged with amusement. “Would you like me to change the station?”

“No!” She let out a breath. “No, this is fine. I like jazz.”

“See? Something we agree on already.”

Ness plucked at the fabric of her slacks. “I haven’t thanked you yet for taking care of me last night.”

He moved his hand to rest it on her knee. “No thanks necessary. The pleasure was all mine.”

Her cheeks burned. “I didn’t mean… That is, I mean everything you did…”

She was just getting herself in deeper.

He squeezed her knee, but left his hand there. “I understand. Don’t sweat. And like I told you, I was earning my white knight points.”

“So you do this for all your women?” she pressed.

This time his laugh was rich and deep. “All my women?” he repeated. “You make it sound like I have hordes camped outside my door.”

“From all the pictures I found online one would certainly have that idea.”

“Oh? So you’ve been researching me on the internet?”

Drats. She just kept putting her foot in her mouth. At this rate she’d be doing all her walking on her butt.

“Just mildly interested, that’s all.” She attempted a casual, offhand tone. “I think it’s only normal to find out about the person who helps you out in a bad situation.”

He might have said more but at that moment eased off the road and stopped the car. Ness looked out the side window and stared.

“Armando’s? Reservations here are like gold. Better, even.” She turned in her seat. “You didn’t need to do this to impress me, you know. Pizza would have been fine, too.”

He laughed. “Not after I saw you in that outfit. It deserves something special. ”

“I appreciate the effort but I still don’t know how you managed this unless you have blackmail secrets on the owner.”

She was interrupted when the valet opened her door and helped her out of the car, being careful with her cast. Ness just stared at the awning and the jeweled glass doors with Armando etched in script. She wasn’t much of a one for gawking. In her position with the company she entertained clients—and had been entertained—in many expensive, exclusive restaurants. But Armando’s was…well…the bluest of the blue chips.

“Come on.” His fingers were back at the crook of her elbow again, setting off those sizzling bolts of electricity chasing themselves through her body. “I’ll answer your question once we’re seated at our table.”

“Mr. McCann.” The maître d’ greeted him as they came through the door. “We have your table ready.”

Ness tried to look without gawking as Josh guided her to their seats. The atmosphere was hushed, muted, with candles on the tables casting an amber glow on everything. Music played softly in the background through concealed speakers. The dining room was actually shaped like an arc so a sweep of windows could take advantage of the view of gorgeous landscape. In the early evening twilight the hills looked as if they were tipped with silver.

Josh spoke quietly to the maître d’, who nodded and bowed himself away. Ness continued to absorb the panoramic view and the fascinating interior. They might have stepped into a Spanish
casa
from two hundred years ago.

“Okay, spill it,” she commanded. “Who did you have to kill to get us a reservation here?”

His killer smile did funny things to her body. “Armando was one of our very first clients when McMann Development opened its doors. He had bought land to build a small strip center and we bid on the job.”

Her eyes widened. “That’s it?”

“No, of course not. He wanted some very specific things that were fixin’ to cost him a bundle he didn’t have. We bid on the job and Tyler and I figured out a way to give him what he wanted without bankrupting him. The job came in on time and on budget. We’ve actually been close friends ever since.”

Ness let her eyes travel over the packed restaurant. “Did you build this place, too?”

“Sure did. But basically as a favor to Armando, since we don’t do stand alones like this anymore.”

“And in return whenever you want a table you get one. You bring people here to impress them.”

“Uh huh.” He winked. “Is it working?”

Before she could answer a waiter appeared holding a wine stand filled with ice and a bottle of Riesling wine she was sure cost the earth. One thing for sure. Josh McMann wasn’t stingy with his entertaining.

Josh studied the label on the bottle and looked at Ness. “You had a Riesling in your fridge last night so I’m guessing—hoping—it’s your favorite.”

She nodded. “Absolutely. Thank you for ordering this.”

Josh watched the woman seated across from him, the tawny light from the flickering candle giving a golden glow to her skin. All day images of her almost naked body had done a tap dance in his brain, making work next to impossible. Only the fact that he’d locked himself in his office kept his brothers from sticking their collective nose into his business.

But when Ness opened the door to him tonight, hair loose around her shoulders, the soft material of her blouse and slacks revealing the curves of her body more tantalizingly than if she was naked, it was worth it all. He nearly swallowed his tongue as his gaze tracked down the length of her body and back up again.

He’d made the reservation at Armando’s for a number of reasons. Maybe a little to impress her because he had a feeling despite the previous night she still thought him kind of a jerk. But also because he wanted to see her reaction. He’d gotten so used to his dates looking around the restaurant, assessing everything. When they looked back at him he could almost see the dollar signs clanging in their eyes.

But either Vanessa Bowen was a different breed of cat or a very good actress. Sure, she was awed about the reservation but no more than some of his high-ticket clients had been. Despite the craziness of her accidents and her car being towed, she gave the impression of a woman who had her act together. Who didn’t care if he had two dimes to his name. Who wasn’t impressed by who he was. Of course, that could all be for show, he reminded himself. Maybe she was feeding out the line so she could reel him in later on. He’d been taken in before.

Still, she was such a mass of contradictions. In forty-eight hours she’d shown him so many sides of her—spitfire hellcat, victim, needy woman. But even though last night he had meant what happened to be all about her, he had no doubt that she could give as good as she got. And he wanted the chance to find out.

“Tell me about you,” he urged as they sipped predinner drinks. “I want to get to know Ness Bowen.”

“You mean what kind of person wrecks two cars in less than a month?”

He laughed. “Maybe. But more than that. What do you like? Dislike? What do you do at Prater Electronics?”