another of the superclub’s unique features caught his eye and snapped him from his fantasy.
Each superclub offers a variety of free services, including wedding coordination—let someone experienced in the ways of love help plan your special wedding.
Which led straight back to the question Sam didn’t want to dwell on: who was Maggie taking on this erotic research trip? His head pounded harder, but he knew better than to ask. Knowing the bum-of-the-month’s name would not make a difference.
Besides, Maggie wouldn’t be planning a wedding on this trip or any other, as near as he could tell. Given her inability to commit, he couldn’t see her being persuaded to take the plunge.
Then again, Maggie was one of the most impulsive people Sam knew. What if this turned out to be the one time she let her heart rule her head?
“So, who’s the lucky guy?” The question popped out, despite his determination not to ask. Out of the frying pan, he thought morosely, and into the fire. “Forget what I said about a tax write-off. Whoever he is, he should be paying.”
To Sam’s surprise, though, Maggie averted her gaze and hurriedly folded the superclub’s printout, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, “Well, actually, I’ve been giving some thought about who to take.”
The uncertainty in her voice stopped him. The black temper responsible for this dull ache in his head receded. Miracle of miracles. Maggie didn’t have a date.
Grabbing his mug, Sam slugged back the remains of cold coffee. Maggie retreated to the corner of the couch again, curled tight in her little ball, sipping tea that, like his coffee, had to be stone cold.
“What kind of thoughts?” he asked.
“About how to convince him. I’m not sure he’ll go.”
Sam found that hard to believe, but apparently not Maggie. She seemed fidgety and had an uneasy look in her eyes. He wondered if she was feeling the effects of discussing sex. Though they’d shared different aspects of their various relationships before, the details never included even vague references to the bedroom. What took place between lovers had, by mutual, unspoken consent, been off-limits.
Sam had always assumed Maggie needed to keep the stable parts of her life—mainly her home and their friendship—separate from the more transient aspects and wasn’t comfortable blurring the boundaries. He knew she was no virgin, but in all the years she’d lived above him, she’d never had a date spend the night. She’d hosted plenty of dinners and get-togethers, but no man had ever walked down those stairs the morning after.
Sam knew because he’d been watching.
Maggie may need a push to think of him as more than a friend, but Sam had been thinking about it ever since he’d kissed her in their high school production of Rogers and Hammerstein’s Carousel.
Not only had he been watching Maggie, he’d been watching closely, keeping her near at hand, and fitting into her life wherever he saw an opening.
He hadn’t had a new opening in a long, long time.
“When are you taking this trip?” he asked to get her talking. Who was this guy who had Maggie so reluctant to talk?
“Valentine’s Day, of course.” She burst from her silence with a dramatic sigh. “The ancient celebration of amore. It’s perfect.” Then she grinned. “Besides, Lyn and Charles are closing the office on Monday for a long weekend, and I can’t afford to miss much work. I don’t know if there’s availability, though. I couldn’t find more information on the Web site.”
“You’ve still got two weeks. You might luck out.” He set his mug back on the table.
They lapsed back into silence, Maggie looking even twitchier than before. Then she drew a deep breath—steeling herself for the confession, Sam guessed.
She unfolded her legs, the ridiculous Gumby heads flopping wildly as she planted her feet on the floor and eagerly leaned toward him. “Sam, I’d like you to come with me. I can’t go alone, so I want you to be my cover, help me observe how couples reignite their passion at this superclub.”
Observe. He’d like to observe all right. Visions of harem girl Maggie flickered in his head again, earning a physical response from his body and kicking in his pride. A lethal combination. His instincts were up. And Sam had based his entire career on his instincts.
“You won’t be distracted by the sexual atmosphere. Not to mention that I trust your judgment. And since you’re familiar with long-term relationships, your input will be invaluable.”
Sam didn’t need a sexual atmosphere to be distracted by the idea of having sex with Maggie. He’d been preoccupied with that subject for years. He’d even tried to bridge the distance between friendship and romance before. One near miss in high school. Maggie had never put two and two together. What she’d dismissed as his temporary lapse of sanity had actually been his amateurish attempt to pursue her. Their friendship had emerged unscathed that go-around.
He hadn’t been so lucky in college.
That time experience had been on his side, but good fortune hadn’t. While he’d learned the nuances of seduction by then, Maggie had been horrified. His plans to woo her at the Fall Harvest Celebration had quickly become aborted plans, when she told him he was too good of a friend to risk losing with a romance that, given her track record, would end in disaster.
Maggie believed their relationship survived because sex wasn’t involved. Here was an opportunity to change her mind.
She watched him breathlessly, hands clamped before her, perched so far on the edge of the couch she’d probably fall off if he touched her. Her eyes glowed with excitement, and she looked so alive, so totally beautiful that he almost didn’t mind the possibility of making a fool of himself again.
“Sam?” she urged. “Come at this from the vacation angle. All you do is work. You’re long overdue a break, and here’s the perfect opportunity.”
The perfect opportunity, all right, to convince her they could be much more than friends.
The bottom line was, Sam had devoted years to insinuating himself into Maggie’s life, trying to prove he wasn’t as erratic as her dad, who was far too preoccupied with his fourth wife to make time for his daughter. Time to risk another crash for a high-yield gain. He was damned tired of trying, and waiting. He wanted a return on his investment.
He wanted Maggie, not just as a friend, but as a lover.
“I’ll go,” he said, pointedly ignoring the icy feeling of déjà vu that made his heart kick harder.
“You don’t mind pretending to be a couple? You won’t have to do anything except be my escort, enjoy the facilities and watch people. Shouldn’t be too hard.”
“Not a problem.” But he planned to be more than an escort.
“Then it’s a deal.” Her sweet pink mouth curved in a smile as she extended her hand.
Sam captured it, lifted it to his lips. He pressed his mouth to her skin. “It’s a deal.”
His words came out no more than a gravelly whisper against the silky flesh of her wrist.
