Seducing an Heiress (7 page)

When her gaze landed on his mouth, guilt flashed across her face.

She wanted him to kiss her. Wanted it bad. 

He ignored the responding ache in his groin. "We're on a tight schedule, so we'll have to grab breakfast later. You ready?" 

The disappointment in her eyes flickered into apprehension. "What are we about to do?"

He opened a drawer and pulled out two pairs of dark sunglasses. "Make our daring escape, of course."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Dakota followed Trey out of his tasteful white-and-chrome themed apartment. As they headed down the hall, she tried not to look at the way his worn jeans cupped his tight rear like a pair of loving hands.
Tried
being the key word.

The image of him standing at the counter flashed into her mind. The jeans riding low on his hips, his T-shirt clinging to his flat stomach and the muscles of his chest and arms, showing off his mouth-watering physique, the ball cap he wore somehow adding to the appealing casualness of his clothes and the day's growth of dark beard on his lean cheeks.

Why not sleep with him? Why not finish what she'd started?

The question had kept her awake most of the night. There were a million reasons why the answer was 'no,' the first being that he was here to get her to agree to a shady business proposition that he couldn't even tell her about. Number two involved the fact that against all common sense she liked being with him even though she was very aware he was up to no good. 

By the time they stepped onto the elevator she'd reached number six:
Because it's always a bad idea to sleep with someone you're this attracted to
. As the doors slid shut she became acutely aware of his fresh, outdoorsy scent and the way he dominated the small space. 

She could feel the power radiating off him and a compelling kind of electricity that made her heart skip and sent a trembling wave of heat sweeping through her body. 

Why not sleep with him?

The elevator bumped to a stop and the doors slid open. Dakota jumped out ahead of him and speed walked toward the Jaguar before she did something she'd regret. 

"Not that way."

She stopped and turned toward him. "That's your car."

"I've loaned it to a friend."

"The same friend who has a sister my size?"

His green eyes sparkled with humor. "Smart and beautiful."

Reason number seven, he was tricky. "What are you up to?"

"Put your sunglasses on and come this way." He slipped on his own glasses and headed toward the front of the parking garage and to the right. Two black trash bags sat next to a brown steel door.

Trey picked one up and gestured for her to do the same. 

"We're taking out the trash?" she asked, puzzled how this was going to get them out without being spotted.

"Do you object to doing a little dirty work?"

"I take out my trash every day, I just don't see the point." She grabbed the other bag and was startled to find it hardly weighed anything. "What's in here, balloons?"

"Old packaging material." Trey leaned against the wall next to the door and stared past her toward the elevator.

Dakota scanned the parking garage, wondering what he was waiting for. In a moment two people came out of the elevator. The man was brunette and dressed in a well-cut business suit that looked expensive, even from a distance. The woman had long blonde hair and wore a black trench coat that covered her nearly to her high-heeled shoes. Both the man and the woman wore dark glasses.

"Those two people look very familiar," she mused as she watched the couple head toward the Jaguar.

"I told you I had connections," Trey said, his tone full of self-satisfaction.

"Do your connections include car thieves? Because they're getting into your car."

"Go over to that pillar and see if you can see the front gate. Without being seen," he added firmly.

Dakota dropped her bag of fake trash and decided to play along. When she got to the pillar, she peered around the edge. A swarm of camera men and reporters were camped out in front of the gate. 

She jumped back behind the column with a gasp. Trey had arranged for decoys!

Dakota hurried back to him. "I hope your connections are convincing," she said, drawing in several quick breaths to try and calm her panic. "There are five times the number of reporters out there, now."

"Just be ready to stroll through that door when I say 'go.'" He nodded toward the steel door next to him.

Dakota picked up her trash bag, doubt in his abilities to pull this off making her palms sweat. She turned around when the Jaguar's engine growled to life and watched as it carefully pulled out of the parking space and cruised toward the gate.

Trey pushed himself off of the wall and shoved down on the handle of the heavy door. "Go," he said, calmly.

Dakota's heart jumped into overdrive. She yanked the bill of her cap down low and scrambled after him. 

They emerged onto the wide blacktop area next to the building just as three groups of newspaper men went tearing past them, heading toward the front of the building. They disappeared around the corner as a collage of shouted questions roared to life from the street.

Hugging the pretend bag of trash in front of her, Dakota quelled her anxiety and stuck close to Trey as he strolled across the parking lot toward the dumpster. He slid open the rusty metal door and the pungent smell of garbage hit her in the face. "Give me your bag," he said, holding out his hand. "Slowly, like it's heavy. Now step behind the dumpster."

Dakota eyed the row of thick bushes. "Why?"

"I wouldn't debate too long if I were you. They could come back any minute."

Her panic charged back to life. Shoving her bag at him, Dakota jumped behind the dumpster.

Trey swung the bags on top of the rest of the trash and smoothly squeezed in beside her. He gave a last cautious scan of the area and then ducked into the bushes.

"Trey?" she whispered, slightly alarmed that he'd abandoned her.

"There's a path here. Sort of." Trey's disembodied voice drifted from the thick foliage. "Come on." His hand stuck out of the tangle of branches in front of her "It's only a few feet to the other side."

She slipped her hand into his and his warm fingers wrapped around her palm. A feeling of safety settled over her like a hug. Crouching low, she let him guide her into the bushes. For a moment it was like they were in a green, light-dappled fairy world, then suddenly they were coming out on the other side and into another parking lot.

Dakota looked out over the scattered selection of cars. "I don't see the Jag."

"With luck the Jag's already barreling down Ninth Street with a swarm of mosquitoes on its tail. We have something better." 

His hand enclosed hers firmly and he led her forward. She told herself she should let go now. Problem was, she didn't want to. She decided not to examine that too closely. 

Trey wove through the scattered parked cars and then crossed a side ally into the loading area of another building. From there, he headed down a narrow street and into another parking lot.

Trey released her hand and pointed toward a rusty green Ford pickup at the end of the second row. 

"Wow." She followed him to the truck, wondering why she felt such a pinch of loss over her now empty hand. It wasn't like Trey was anything to her. Right?

"That's...really something," she said, studying the truck instead of looking at him. 

"Looks can be deceiving." He dug in his front pocket and pulled out a set of keys with a blue rabbit's foot dangling from them. "I'm counting on it, in fact."

Trey unlocked the passenger door. "If your eyebrows go up any higher they'll disappear into your hat." 

"I just can't picture Trey Peters deigning to drive a bucket like this."

"Then call me Larry."

"What?"

"Goes with Lark." He stepped back so she could climb into the surprisingly clean interior.

"Lark?" Oh yeah, the silly name Richard had given her last night. Pulling herself up into the truck, she tried not to smile. "You're not as hilarious as you think you are." 

"You're just a tough audience." He grinned at her as she pulled the door shut. 

She had to admit it. He was incredibly cute even with his long list of faults, known and unknown. The fact that he was here only to convince her to go back to her father couldn't detract from the way looking at him made her heart beat a little faster. 

She admired the muscles of his arms bunching as he pulled himself into the cab and realized she couldn't hide from the truth any longer. 

She liked him. She wanted him. Why not sleep with him? 

She knew Trey had an agenda, but that was the whole point. She
knew
. With Jack she hadn't, so she'd believed everything he told her and convinced herself she was falling in love.

There was no danger of that with Trey. There'd be no surprises. No illusions. No disappointing betrayal at the end. 

She had a business to get off the ground and she spent a lot of time running it. She didn't have time for a relationship. But she was lonely. A little companionship would be nice. After a short and pleasant affair, they would part as congenial enemies with happy memories. It was perfect. 

He was perfect.

Trey glanced at her, and then looked more closely. He gave her a puzzled smile. "You okay, Dakota? You look hungry."

Warmth poured over her cheeks as embarrassment burst to life under her ribs. "Starved," she choked out, turning toward the window. 

The truck coughed to life, rumbling around her like a geriatric beast. "I'll get you something to eat as soon as we get out of town," Trey said.

His neutral, brotherly tone reminded her that she'd made him promise not to come near her. Apparently he'd taken her order seriously. Now what?

He was attracted to her too, she was certain of it. Guys couldn't control things like that. 

He was definitely the perfect candidate for a little R&R. All she had to do was talk him into it. 

If she could just scare up the nerve.

*  *  *

"Pull around to the back of the restaurant." Dakota leaned forward to peer through the wind shield.

Something was up with Dakota and Trey couldn't figure it out. He couldn't figure out a lot of things like how the hell he was going to talk her into coming back to work for Jamison. 

Usually he didn't have any trouble finding the weak link in a person's armor and figuring out how to exploit it. Dakota was different. She didn't seem to fit any mold. One minute she was a sophisticated and elegant woman mildly flirting with him over dinner, the next she was barely able to look him in the eye.

He felt like a squirrel on ice in a strong wind. Nothing short of luck was going to get him to solid ground. 

Trey rolled up next to her VW bug. Dakota hopped out of the truck with her bag of leftover food before he'd even come to a complete stop.

She fumbled to unlock her car door. That's when he saw the dog. 

It was rangy, but big. Some kind of spotted, scruffy lab mix...maybe. It came charging around the corner of the dumpster and headed straight for her at full speed.

Sheer panic shot through him. "Dakota!" He banged open his door and jumped for the hood of the truck, rolling across it and landing on the other side. He tackled the dog just before it got to her. 

Grabbing it around the chest, Trey tucked his body and landed hard on the ground. The animal squealed and started yelping like he was killing it.

"Hamlet!" Dakota screamed. "Trey, are you crazy? You're hurting him!"

She dropped to her knees next to him and the dog struggled frantically to get at her. 

"Get in the truck, Dakota," Trey snapped, squeezing down on the animal so it couldn't get away. 

"Let go!" Her fingers dug into his arm and she pulled on him like she was trying to break his grip. "That's
my
dog!"

Was she serious? "It attacked you!"

"He was greeting me. He'd never hurt anyone."

"It has a funny way of showing it."

"He's not vicious."

Trey stared at her over the thrashing animal. "If it kills you, don't come crying to me."

"Okay." Was that an edge of humor he heard in her voice?

Irritated that she might be laughing at him, he let the dog go. It scrambled off him and took off. 

Dakota watched it go and sighed. "It took me a long time to get him to trust me. I hope I don't have to start all over again."

Trey sat up. "Why does your dog live behind a dumpster?"

"My landlord doesn't allow pets." She stood up and brushed off the knees of her jeans. "I can't afford to live anywhere else, so don't even start on that."

Trey got to his feet, his heart still pounding from the scare her dog had given him. "How was I supposed to know it--" 

"He."

"Was yours? All I saw was a stray charging you down like it...he wanted to rip your throat out."

She looked up at him. The corner of her mouth twitched like she was trying not to smile. "You move pretty fast for a pencil pusher, you know that?"

A flush of heat crept up his neck. "I haven't always worked for your father." He scowled, annoyed as hell that he felt embarrassed. 

She shoved the bag of leftovers towards him. "Did you ever work with dogs?"

He crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to take the food. "I'm more of a cat person."

"He's watching us, you know."

Trey shifted his attention to the dumpster. Sure enough, the straggly animal was peering at them around the corner of the trash container. Now that he thought about it, the expression in the dog's eyes looked anything but aggressive. It looked sad, like he'd hurt its feelings. Guilt gnawed at his gut.

He snatched the bag from her. "I didn't mean to scare him," he muttered.

"See if he'll take one of the sausages from you."