“‘You will explore all of the sensual delights of having your own boy toy,’” he read. “I just wanted to make sure that I remembered it correctly. If this is your fantasy, I want to apply for the boy toy position.”
The flutter in her heart danced again. And for one long moment, Reese was tempted to fling caution to the wind and just say yes. It would be the wildest thing she’d ever done. Maybe the only wild thing she’d ever done. And he was making it so easy for her. All she had to do was let herself be swept away.
But that had been the story of her life. People had always made decisions easy for her—whether it was her older sisters smoothing the way or her agent negotiating with her hard-to-please producer.
She dropped her gaze to the piece of parchment lying on the table between them. Even Hattie had somehow gotten into the act, providing the fantasy that was supposed to take care of everything for her, not to mention delivering the perfect boy toy.
She had to hand it to Hattie on that one. Blue Eyes was nearly perfect. But she couldn’t live the rest of her life going along with the flow.
Later she would wonder how she managed it, but she carefully picked up the parchment and slipped it back into the envelope. “You’re going a little fast for me.”
He continued to look at her for a long moment. Finally, he said, “Fair enough. When I really want something, or someone, I tend to rush my fences. But I can do slow.”
She just bet he could. It was easy to imagine those hands moving over her very carefully, very slowly. At the thought, the room was abruptly too hot, her throat too dry. She moistened her lips and glanced around. “I’ve never done this, hooked up with somebody in a bar. I don’t even know your name.”
“I’m Mac. And while I have hooked up with women in bars before, I don’t make a habit of it.” He leaned against the back of the booth. “There’s usually a bit of small talk involved. I’ve put it together—what with eavesdropping and your very friendly staff—that you’re Reese Brightman, one of the owners of this delightful hotel. And this is the first Singles Weekend Haworth House has ever offered. It’s a first for me, too. I’ve never been to one before. How about you?”
Reese leaned forward a bit. “Never. I’m here because the manager asked me to help out. Normally, I’m very cautious. I don’t even jump into the deep end of the pool without testing the waters first. I’m very focused on my job. My sisters accuse me of being a workaholic.”
“I’ve been accused of the same. When I was growing up, I had a nanny who thought I was too serious. She used to invent all sorts of games for us to play.”
Reese found herself smiling. “Sounds like my sisters. Left to my own devices, I would have spent all my time in the kitchen.”
“Looks like we have something in common.”
She studied him for a moment, totally surprised. She wouldn’t have believed she had anything in common with this large, incredibly handsome man. He appeared to be so self-assured. The reckless gleam had faded from his eyes, but they were still very intent and focused totally on her.
She tapped a finger on the parchment. “It’s my first experience with fantasies, too.”
His eyebrows rose. “Ever? You didn’t entertain any even when you were a little girl?”
She thought for a few seconds, then shook her head. “No. I had dreams of becoming a famous chef, and my sisters and I always dreamed of going into business together. But dreams and goals are different than fantasies.”
“You’re right. Goals and dreams are serious business. Achieving them takes hard work and perseverance, not to mention luck. But fantasies should be fun. That would certainly go along with the boy toy theme, don’t you think?”
She hadn’t thought of that before. Reese glanced back down at the parchment. “Ever since I drew this out of the box, I’ve been sure it was a mistake. I’ve never fantasized about having a boy toy. Ever. And then…” She met his eyes. “Then I ran into you in the lobby and I can’t seem to stop thinking about…exploring those sensual delights.”
“I’ve given it quite a bit of thought, too,” Mac said. “It looks like we’re dealing with the same problem here.”
In fact, the fantasy had embedded itself so deeply into his mind that, in spite of his efforts to go slow, Mac was fiercely battling an urge to throw her over his shoulder and carry her off to his room. Cave man tactics weren’t his style. Nor was he in the habit of causing scenes.
But why should that surprise him? The effect Reese Brightman had on his senses was making him different. Over her shoulder, he could see that Avery Cooper and the sheriff were at the registration desk and a third man had joined them. Charles Dutoit. All three of them might well intervene if he tried the cave man thing.
But when he shifted his gaze back to Reese, it wasn’t the three men who kept him in his seat. It was the vulnerability in her eyes that tugged at something deep inside of him. He wanted the fantasy—but only if she wanted it as much as he did.
He tapped a finger on the parchment. “If it helps, I have no experience whatsoever in being someone’s boy toy. That makes us both neophytes at this. So I have a suggestion.”
“What?”
He glanced around. “Can you get us out of here without going through the lobby?”
“Yes.”
He held out his hand. “Why don’t we take a little walk and test things out? Then we can decide if we want to go forward?”
She narrowed her eyes on his. “Test things out? Like taking a test drive in a car?”
Mac threw back his head and laughed. “No, I think if we get around to the test drive, we’ll have both decided to pursue the fantasy. I was thinking more of testing the waters. A walk in the gardens. A kiss. We’ll cause less speculation if we find a more private venue.”
He picked up the parchment envelope and handed it to her. “I promise we won’t do anything you don’t want to. Are you willing to risk it?”
She hesitated, but just for a second. This was her chance to take charge, to steer her own course. Sliding out of the booth, she put her hand in his. “Let’s go.”
HIS LAUGH HAD SETTLED her a bit. So had his intent way of listening to her. At least that was what Reese told herself as they started along one of the garden paths. But to steady her nerves, she tried to concentrate on the details around her. Small lanterns in the flower beds lit their way, and more lights twinkled in the gazebos and the occasional tree.
Once they’d left the bar, he’d released her hand. Though they walked side by side as they made their way into the garden, they didn’t touch. Even without the actual physical contact, Reese couldn’t recall ever being so sensually aware of a man before. The air was heavily perfumed by flowers, but each time she breathed in, she caught his scent—soap and something else that was very male.When he placed a hand on the small of her back to guide her away from the path and across the grass, she felt the press of each one of his fingers and she was reminded of how thin her T-shirt was and how little separated her flesh from his.
What would it feel like when he touched her—really touched her? And if thinking about that wasn’t enough, there was the kiss. Anticipating it made her knees weak. Though she was successful in pushing the images out of her mind, she could do nothing to prevent the arousal that started deep and radiated to every pore.
“Does this spot suit you?”
At the question, Reese gave herself a mental shake and brought her full attention back to where they were. He’d steered off the path to the far side of the garden bordered by a grove of trees. Nerves jittered in her stomach. “Right through those trees is one of my favorite places on the estate.”
“Show me.”
“It’s dark.”
He turned to her. “There’s a full moon, and the sea can’t be far. I can hear it.”
She studied his face. “Why do you want to see it?”
“Curiosity. But I suppose it’s also a delaying tactic. I want very much to kiss you, Reese. But I’m afraid that once I do, I won’t be able to give you the time you want.”
When she trembled, Mac had to fist his hands at his side.
“Okay.” She turned and led the way into the trees. And she knew the way very well. He noted that she cut to the right of each tree or fallen branch that they encountered.
“You come here often,” he said.
“Every time I visit the hotel. The maze and the rest of the gardens have been carefully restored to the way they must have been when Hattie Haworth lived here. But this part is still the way it’s been forever. At least that’s what I like to think.”
They’d reached the cliff path, if it could be called that. The steep incline ahead of them was covered with fallen rocks. He spotted the wrought iron bench that sat a short distance away. “That bench hasn’t been here forever.”
She laughed. “No. I had a couple of the landscapers carry it here for me. My intention was to do my paperwork there, but I found a better spot just over the incline.”
“You must like to work in isolation.”
“I do. I suppose it dates back to my days in boarding school.”