Vicki Thompson - Drive Me Wild

“Let’s have lunch at a hotel,” she said the minute he got behind the wheel.

“Which one?”

“Any one. The closest one. My treat. Use valet parking. I’m really hungry.”

“Okay.” He doubted this was a celebration, but he wasn’t going to argue with her. If she wanted a nice meal in a hotel restaurant, he’d make sure she got it. He wished he could offer to buy her lunch, but at New York prices, lunch could suck up a good portion of his rent money. He’d never minded being poor until this moment.

He drove around the block and pulled into the valet parking area of the first high-rise hotel he came to, not even bothering to notice if it was a Hilton, Sheraton or something else entirely.

“Perfect.” She was helped out of the car by the doorman while Alec gave the keys to the parking attendant.

As Alec walked over to join her, he remembered he was dressed in his car service logo shirt, which was smudged. “Maybe you should go in without me,” he said. “I’m not wearing the right clothes.”

She glanced at him. “You’re fine, but if you’re worried about it, we can go to the hotel coffee shop instead of the dining room.”

He followed her through the revolving doors. “It depends on what you want to eat.”

“I’d rather be in the coffee shop with you than by myself in the dining room. Let’s get a sandwich.”

He was a little confused by her strange mood, but he decided to play along. “Okay.” As they walked through the lobby on their way to the coffee shop, he caught a glimpse of the two of them in a large wall mirror. With her dressed in elegant city clothes and him in his chauffeur’s outfit, he sure did look like her boy toy.

He wondered if she had boy toys. In the six months he’d known her, he hadn’t seen evidence that she dated anyone. That didn’t mean much, though. Logically she wouldn’t need a chauffeur when a guy was around, so he wouldn’t have reason to cross paths with her dates.

The hostess showed them to a table, and Alec held Molly’s chair for her.

She smiled up at him. “Thanks.”

“I should be thanking you, for offering to buy my lunch.” He sat down, picked up the menu and glanced at the prices. The place was fancy for a coffee shop, but there were a few meals in his price range. “You know, I could pay for my own. That makes more sense.”

“Let’s not worry about it now.” She made quick work of studying the menu and was ready for the waiter when he came to fill their water glasses.

While she ordered a grilled-chicken salad, Alec quickly decided on a Reuben. Once the waiter left, Alec leaned forward. “You said you’d tell me about your meeting with your agent.”

“I will, but not right this minute.” Her green eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed. The sad expression had disappeared.

“I take it she didn’t give you good news.”

“It’s he, and no, he didn’t. But I don’t intend to let that spoil our meal. So you like Reuben sandwiches?”

“Sure do.”

“So do I, but I felt like having something a little lighter. Maybe you’ll let me have a bite of yours.”

This was feeling more and more like a date. “Uh, sure.”

“There’s something about that tangy combo of sauerkraut and corned beef, isn’t there?”

“I’ve always liked it.”

“And if they bring it immediately after they fix it, and it’s still warm, with the cheese melted…mmm, yummy.”

“Uh-huh.” He had the definite impression this discussion was about something besides food. His groin was registering sexual overtones. Major sexual overtones. Molly had flirted with him before, but it had been more on the order of Sex Lite, not really intended to go anywhere. This time she seemed to have a definite destination in mind, and he was getting hotter by the second.

“Alec?”

He cleared his throat. “What?”

“I’ll bet Red Carpet has a policy against dating clients.”

His heart started beating faster. “It does. But if you’re worried about this lunch, I don’t think that counts. I mean, you have to eat.” He’d pretend to misunderstand where the conversation was leading, to see if she was serious or messing with his head.

“I wasn’t really worried about this lunch. We’re in New York, not Old Saybrook. No one will see us having lunch, whether your company would frown on it or not.”

“I guess that’s true.”

“So, let’s say you decided to take a chance, decided for a little while to ignore your company’s policy. Let’s say your client promised never to say anything to anyone.” She paused to gaze at him.

If he hadn’t noticed the slight tremor of her hand as she reached for her water glass, he would have thought she was cool as can be. He wasn’t, though. He was breaking out in a sweat. “Okay, let’s say that.”

She sloshed a little water over the rim of the glass as she set it unsteadily back on the tablecloth. Her eyelashes fluttered, and then she looked straight at him. “I don’t want you to lose your job on account of me.”

“You let me worry about that.” He no longer gave a damn about the job. Five minutes ago he’d thought it was very important, but five minutes ago Molly hadn’t been across the table, color high, hinting that she wanted something more from him than chauffeur service.

“It’s just that I find you very attractive,” she said.

“Ditto.” That was suave. He tried again. “I find you very attractive, too.”

“But there are so many problems.”

“I know.” He couldn’t think of a single one, but he knew they were out there, temporarily obliterated by a firestorm of lust.

“I don’t really have time for dating.” She gripped the slick water glass in both hands and brought it to her mouth for a single swallow.

So she hadn’t been going out, after all. Nice to know. “Why not?”

“I’m trying to move ahead in my career.”

Making X-rated movies? But he didn’t ask. “I don’t really have time to date, either.” He said it automatically, but now he realized that he’d make the time—for her.

“That’s what I thought. And then there’s the situation with me being a client for the car service.”

“True.” And maybe he’d been crazy to let that stand in his way for six months. Was he a man or a wuss?

She turned the water glass around and around in her hands while she stared at the ice bobbing inside. “But that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it.”

“So have I.” Which answered the question of whether he was a man or a wuss. He’d thought about her during the day, dreamed about her at night, and hadn’t made a single move. Pathetic.

But most of their time together had been side by side, riding in the Town Car. This was the longest he’d ever sat across from her, able to really look at her. She was a treat, all red-gold curls and creamy skin.

He’d never noticed her hands before, but he noticed them now as she continued to fondle her water glass. She kept her nails short and free of polish. Movie stars, any kind of movie star, had long nails. But she could put on the fake ones during shooting. He was fascinated by the way she was stroking that dripping glass. Then she clutched it in two hands again and took another sip. God, he was getting hard.

She took a long, shaky breath. “Okay, so we’re both interested.”

“Definitely.”

“And fate has caused us to end up in the city together today.”

“Yes.” Fate in the form of George and Alma Federman, whose flat tire had made him late. They’d insisted on inviting him over for dinner some night this week, but he should be the one taking them out, from the look of things.

“So, um, I was thinking…”

His heart thudded like a pile driver. “Yes?”