Lovescenes

She smiled. ‘Check and mate,’ she said, and then she raised her eyes to his. ‘My name is Shannon,’ she said, holding her hand out to him.

He took her hand in his and shook it with great for­mality. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Shannon. I’m Cade.’

‘How do you do, Cade? Thank you for the coffee.’

‘You’re very welcome.’ He smiled into her eyes and her heart thudded crazily again.

‘Well ’ she began.

‘Yes,’ he said, and then he suddenly reached out and his fingers closed over the top button on her jacket. ‘You’ve closed it wrong,’ he said. ‘Let me fix it.’

She drew back as his hand brushed her cheek. The sensation of being touched by flame was so powerful that she flinched. ‘I’ll do it,’ she stammered. Her fingers trembled on the buttons but she managed what she hoped was a bright smile. ‘Well, I’ll see you at work Monday. . I’ve a dance class in half an hour and I’ll just about make it if I grab a cab.’

‘Let me give you a lift.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of taking you out of your way,’ she said as they went out the door. She signaled a passing taxi. It was empty, but the driver ignored her in time-honored New York tradition. Shannon looked down the one-way street; except for a truck rattling to­wards them, it was empty.

Cade touched her arm lightly. ‘Where is your class?’

‘All the way downtown near Canal Street.’

‘Well, then you’ve got to accept my offer. I’m going to pick up my guitarist. He lives right near there.’

‘No, I...’

‘Shannon, really, it’s on my way. Jack lives in SoHo.’ He took her elbow. ‘You’re going to miss your class otherwise.’

‘I...I...’ Shannon took a deep breath. What was the matter with her, anyway? They were going to be working together in just a few days, playing the most intimate scene she’d ever played in her life, and here she was, uncomfortable at the thought of being in a car with him! ‘You’re right. Yes, thank you, Cade, I’d appreciate a lift. Is your car nearby?’

He grinned. ‘Yeah, it’s in a garage right around the corner.’

‘I think I’d better warn you that you’re going to get hung up in some terrible traffic.’

‘I don’t think so,’ he said solemnly. ‘Why don’t you wait here for me? I’ll only be a minute.’

She nodded and tucked her hands into her pockets, shivering in a sudden chill breeze. She watched him as he walked away from her, his long stride rapidly changing into a trot as he reached the corner. A woman walking by paused and stared after him, then shrugged and hurried on. Had she recognized Cade, Shannon wondered, or had she simply stopped to admire his looks? There was no point in denying that he was terrific-looking—his broad shoulders, that narrow waist, and, of course, those blue eyes set in that rugged face...

And he knew he was handsome. That had to be why he wore the tight jeans, the macho motorcycle jacket and boots...

What kind of car would he drive? she wondered. A Jag, maybe, or. a ’Vette.., Or maybe a Lamborghini. Maybe nothing so sporty. He might show up in a chauffeured limousine. She’d seen that time after time in the mid-town streets; men whose faces she knew from movies and magazines and television uncurling themselves from the backs of Lincolns and Caddies, not bothered by the fact that they were dressed as if they should be riding by on Harley-Davidson motorcycles in­stead of being driven around in luxury. But style and image counted. Actors and agents and publicists all knew that.

There was a deep, thrumming roar behind her. She turned quickly and her mouth dropped open.

‘Cade?’ she said, staring at him in amazement.

He grinned at her from the back of the largest, blackest motorcycle she’d ever seen.

‘How about a lift, lady?’

‘Is that thing yours?’ she asked stupidly.

His grin broadened. ‘It sure is. Here, put this on,’ he said, handing her a black helmet, a duplicate of the one he was wearing. She stared at it blankly and he touched her hand. ‘You’d better tuck all that hair up under it. And put the visor down, too. Like this.’

She watched as he slid the smoke-colored plastic down over his eyes. ‘I... I’ve never ridden one of these,’ she said finally.

‘Then it’s about time you did,’ he said. ‘OK, why don’t you put your shoulder-bag into that carrier?’

She looked from him to the compartment on the back of the bike. ‘No, it’s OK, I’ll hold it.’