going well.”
She frowned at the change of subject, looking disappointed that he hadn’t taken the bait. Why hadn’t he? Stupid. That’d been a stupid move. But he somehow couldn’t find it within himself to regret it.
“I suppose.” Then she put out her dark-tinted bottom lip in a small pout. “Are you going to be moving to the Winter Garden House tomorrow? You’re sure we can’t convince you to stay?”
Ryan shook his head. “Sorry. I must spend some time at all the inns I’ll be writing about.”
Not to mention the fact that Jade Maguire’s tour company capped off their nighttime haunted history tour with a visit to the famous Winter Garden inn. Since he’d paid one of her employees to call in sick tomorrow night, he knew damn well who’d be leading the tour.
It was almost too easy luring the tigress into his den.
Hell, she was making it even easier because she’d been looking at him all night. Giving him these intense stares, studying him.
Ryan was used to the stares of women. Under normal circumstances, this woman’s interest would have gotten exactly the kind of reaction he’d always had to a beautiful, seductive female. Instant heat. Hot pleasure. The kind of crazy passionate relationship he’d enjoyed more than a few times in his life. The kind that had kept him from settling down to anything more permanent—much to his grandmother’s dismay.
Grandmother didn’t believe he wasn’t secretly interested in marriage, kids and all the suburban crap the women she introduced him to seemed to want. And he didn’t want to force her to admit he didn’t possess the love-at-first-sight gene that had downed so many of his family members.
So the least he could do for evading her marriage traps was reclaim a family treasure.
He hadn’t realized, though, until he’d set eyes on Jade, that the job might be so very enjoyable. Getting her naked, helpless and at his mercy might prove to be fun. He just had to keep reminding himself this was a mission. Business, not pleasure.
Though, honestly, if some pleasure happened into the equation, he didn’t think he’d protest too much.
2
“YOU’VE BEEN WATCHING ME,” a smooth voice said, low and melodic and hinting at other words, more sultry words, that he’d rather not say in public.
Ryan Stoddard. God, he’d come right up to her. Jade hadn’t expected him to make the first move.
“You’ve been watching me,” she countered, sipping her drink and not turning around. She closed her eyes and did a rapid one-to-ten count to gain control. She couldn’t believe he’d eased around the crowd and snuck up on her while she’d been watching Tally work her magic with the rich businessman.
On the positive front, she’d only been here an hour and already the object of her revenge scheme had approached her. She was getting almost too good at this clandestine thing. Though, she had to admit, the ability to be noticed in a crowd had come in handy on some of her treasure-hunting jaunts. Particularly with the male targets.
He moved closer. The fabric of his trousers brushed her bare legs, which were revealed well above the knee in a short jet-black beaded cocktail dress that didn’t quite suit the dress code tonight. The contact stirred her, made something lurch within her.
“We’ve been watching each other,” he admitted, his voice closer now. Close enough for her to feel his breath on her neck.
Goose bumps rose there. Goose bumps, for heaven’s sake, as if she hadn’t been practicing this man/woman/ sex thing since before she’d grown breasts. Every Dupré woman knew about seduction, just as every Dupré woman knew about the family history and the many ways to curse someone in the old language.
“If it makes you feel better to think so, go ahead.”
He chuckled, obviously not fooled by her cool tone. How could he be when her whole body was practically arching toward him, shifting with imperceptible need? Was the warmth she felt caused by the hot summer night or by his nearness?
Or by her own anxiety about what she planned to do with this man very, very soon?
“You look wicked in that dress.”
Nothing subtle about this man.
“Compared to the other ladies in their pastels and jewel tones, I mean.”
She knew darn well he hadn’t been talking about the color of her dress. He’d meant her. That she looked wicked.
Wicked as in hot. Not bad.
Which was good, since she didn’t want him to know yet just how bad she could be. Particularly when she had payback on her mind.
“You mean I’m dressed inappropriately?” she asked, smoothing her hand across the front of her dress in a provocative stroke.
His response—a laugh—caught her by surprise. When she frowned, he quickly explained. “My landlady tried the exact same move on me not ten minutes ago. Trust me, it works much better on you than it did on someone whose chins almost meet her cleavage.”
Having no liking for Mamie Brandywine—who’d been downright rude to Jade’s mother on more than one occasion—Jade smiled, and forgave him for his laughter. “You should see her in a bathing suit.”
He visibly shuddered.
“I’m sure she’d be happy to join you in the spa.”
“I’d rather be boiled in oil.”
“Warm oil. I’m sure she could arrange that, too. She’s, uh, rather fond of her male guests.”
He raised an offended hand to his chest and shook his head. “You mean, it’s not just me? She wasn’t bowled over by my manly charms and extraordinary looks?”
Jade couldn’t help it. She let out a little snort, amused by his self-deprecating tone. “Don’t flatter yourself. She’d be trying to get Attila the Hun naked in the hot tub if he were here. I think that’s why she had it installed.”
“I don’t think the two of them would fit.” Then he added, “And if she’s used it a lot for her ‘dates,’ I think I’d better make a mental note—no hot tub for me.”
Against her will, Jade reacted to his good humor. She liked his snappy comebacks and quick mind. Then she remembered what had gotten them on the subject of Mamie Brandywine to begin with. “By the way, I was not making a come-hither move.”
“You weren’t?” he asked, his voice growing husky. “You mean, you didn’t deliberately move your open hand across your breasts, until your nipples got hard against your pretty black dress?”
She gasped. How on earth did he think he could get away with speaking to a complete stranger, in public, like that?
He didn’t even pause. “You didn’t intentionally run your thumb under the neckline, inviting a man to imagine the way your skin tastes?” Then he lifted her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “Not to mention your long fingernails just barely
