Susan Crosby - Wedding Fever

She tasted the drink and murmured something complimentary.

He smiled. “Shall we sit?”

“I’ll stand, thank you.”

“As you wish.” He stood an unintimidating two feet away and swirled the ruby rich liquid in his glass. “How was your Christmas?”

She set the bag she still carried at his feet. “I’m returning all your gifts. As I told you, I’m involved with someone.”

“Not according to what I’ve heard.”

“We’ve been discreet.”

“Why? Is he married?”

“Of course not.”

He smiled slightly. “My dear Miss Walters. You’re not being honest with me.”

“I’m not playing games.”

“Ah, but you are.”

She flinched as he touched her hair.

“You made it clear that you like the chase. So do I. But we’re ready for the next step.”

“I’m on my period.” There. Factual and off-putting. She lifted her chin.

His eyes danced as he inched closer. “I’m not so crude as to expect you to fall into bed with me. Alas, the next step I was suggesting was a night on the town. Dinner, dancing, a kiss to welcome the new year.”

“And if I say no?”

“You wouldn’t leave me to celebrate the new year alone, would you?”

“Mr. Hastings, I have other plans. Regardless, I have no interest.”

His smile disintegrated. He plucked her still-full wineglass from her and returned to the bar, where he plunked down both glasses. “Then I must regretfully insist. I had hoped to do this properly, Miss Walters. I had hoped to share a lovely evening. But if you insist on casting me as the bully, I assure you, I can fill that role.”

His tone of voice filled in every blank—he would get what he wanted, when he wanted it.

Icy calculation lingered in his eyes, a darkness distinctly at odds with his civilized demeanor. A shiver raced through her, distributing tentacles of fear and anger. She was in way over her head. She could either go along with him or fight him. Some choice.

“I don’t care for orders,” she said, the barest hint of concession in her voice.

He relaxed fractionally. “And I am accustomed to giving them, and having them obeyed without question. I apologize for treating you like staff instead of the beautiful woman I desire.”

“If I don’t call my sister, she’ll have the entire San Francisco Police Department out tookmg for me. She raised me. She’s very protective.”

“And very pregnant. I’ll get a message to her. Now, shall we go?”

The amount of information he had on her astounded her. “Where?”

He cupped her elbow and guided her toward the elevator. Dee and Dum appeared from nowhere. “The top floor of the Empress Hotel. I believe it’s a setting worthy of showing off the lovely jewel that you are.”

A public place meant safety. What could he do? Okay. She could manage this, manage him. Now she only had to figure out a way to avoid the midnight kiss he wanted. She’d start by ordering every item on the menu with garlic in it

Maggie looked out a floor-to-ceiling window at the twinkling lights of San Francisco. The elegant restaurant where Brendan had brought her took up the entire twentieth floor of the Empress HoteL The room was filled with revelers waiting to celebrate the new year.

“Maggie?”

Reluctantly, she faced Brendan, who was losing patience with her lack of interest. He leaned toward her.

“You would have permanent use of the penthouse, unlimited credit—whatever your heart desires.”

As he listed the perks of the job he was offering, Maggie glanced around the restaurant, wondering what the servers made in tips. She made more than a decent income at the Carola, thanks to great tips, but the food here was even more expensive.

“I don’t usually make an offer so freely,” he continued, “but I know it would be good between us. Phenomenal, in fact.”

Meaning you usually sample the wares first. Was she supposed to feel flattered because he didn’t ask for a “test drive”?

She looked at the Caesar salad she hadn’t yet taken a bite of, rolled a few croutons over some romaine leaves, then set her fork aside. She had to come up with some kind of answer. Something to placate him, yet not commit her to anything. She lifted her wineglass, stalling, mentally forming a sentence, then noticed patrons around them turning in their chairs, watching a woman glide through the restaurant, greeting people, her beaded, ankle-length, cardinal red gown capturing and holding everyone’s gazes. She stopped at Brendan and Maggie’s table.

“Why, hon, what a surprise to see you here!”

Maggie smiled as Misty Champion touched her shoulder, and she relaxed for the first time that evening. “Misty, hi.”

“Brendan, happy new year.”

He stood to shake Misty’s hand. They exchanged pleasantries for a minute as Maggie wondered why he hadn’t invited Misty tonight instead. She seemed much more suited to him.

“I’m headed to the little girls’ room,” Misty said to Maggie. “Keep me company?”

Maggie grabbed her purse and tossed her napkin on the table as she shot out of the seat, not giving Brendan a second to stop her. She linked her arm through Misty’s and hustled her away. The bathroom door had barely closed behind them when Maggie grabbed her.

“I have a big favor to ask.”

“Shoot.”

“Could you help me get out of here? It’s a long story, too long to explain right now, and Brendan isn’t going to be happy, but I’m willing to risk sneaking out, even though I’m concerned about what he’ll do.”

“And well you should be, hon. In the river of life, he’s a crocodile and you’re a tadpole.” She picked up a book of Empress Hotel matches from the vanity counter, then pulled a cellular phone from her purse, and dialed. She oozed charm. “Hi, there, Jacques. This is Misty Champion....”

Maggie listened as Misty made the necessary arrangements to get her out of the sky-high restaurant, then Misty folded the phone and slid it back into her purse.

“Okay, it’s all set, hon. Jacques will be right outside the door.”

“Thanks, Misty. I owe you.”

“Just tell me you’ve learned a lesson—don’t bite off more man than you can chew.”

“I didn’t bite this one.” She eyed the rest-room door. “I felt as close to helpless as I ever want to feel in my life. I was doing the best I could to handle him. But he’s...a force unto his own. I’m afraid this is just the beginning of my problems with him. He’s going to be furious that I dumped him.”

“I’m afraid you’re right, hon. Trust me, this is not a man you want to be involved with.”

Maggie frowned. “Then I can’t leave you with him. I got myself into this mess. I’ll get myself out.”

She patted Maggie’s arm. “In another life, I dealt with men like him. I know what to do.”

“No, I—”

“Just follow me out.”

Maggie expected to see either Brendan., Tweedledee or Tweedledum looming outside the door. She saw only the maitre d’, Jacques, who whisked her through the kitchen. He indicated a door.

“You will find a service elevator on the other side,” he said precisely.

“Thank you.”

He nodded and retreated. Maggie pushed open the door and stepped through.

“Well, Alice, have you had enough adventures in wonder land?”

She whirled around. “Diego! How did you—What are you doing here?”

He strode toward her. “That’s some dress you’re almost wearing.”

“Don’t start,” she warned, relief warring with anger at herself. “I’m not in the mood.”

She marched to the elevator and punched the down button. Several times she looked over her shoulder. She jabbed the down button twice more. “Come on. Come on.”