No Reservations (3 page)

She turned away and tilted her head back to look into the sky again. “I’m not. It
was a long time coming and the right thing to do.”

He heard a “but” in there and wanted to prod her until she spilled. Instead, he remained
silent, waiting for the rest of the story. He knew there had to be more.

“Arnie’s a nice guy. A real sweetheart.”

Tyler’s jaw clenched but he forced it to release before she turned and caught him
looking like he wanted to hurt someone. Mia had literally flinched away from him in
fear the few times he’d ever looked at her like this. He’d learned to submerge most
of his darker emotions, knowing Mia had loved him enough to satisfy some of his cravings
but had been unable to handle all of him. And he’d been okay with that because he’d
loved her, and love meant compromise.

He didn’t think Kate was afraid of much of anything.

“He’ll be better off without me.”

His gaze narrowed. “Why do you say that?”

“Because I didn’t love him the way he deserves.”

The caveman part of his brain wanted to pump his fist in the air. Luckily, the more
civilized part talked him out of it. “Then he wasn’t the right man for you, Kate.”

She paused. “Do you believe in soul mates?”

Dangerous territory.

He closed the few feet between them so he was standing by her side. The top of her
head barely came up to his shoulder and he fought the urge to pull her into his arms
and lift her until her eyes were on a level with his . . . and their mouths were aligned.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, touching the ring she’d given him earlier, he sighed.
“I’m not sure anymore. I used to. I even thought I’d found mine. And then she died.”

Those dark eyes met his again, her expression genuinely sorrowful. “I’m so sorry,
Tyler. I know how awful it is to lose someone you love. Do you still miss her?”

Did he? “It’s been almost two years. The pain’s more like a dull ache that I know
is still there but . . . it doesn’t bother me all the time.”

“But it
does
still bother you?”

“When I think about her now . . .”

He got angry, more often than not. And that made him feel like shit. So he didn’t
think about her.

“What?” she prompted.

He sighed. “I get mad. Which is stupid. Mia had a brain tumor that killed her a year
after she was diagnosed. She couldn’t control it. She could do nothing to change it.”

And yet . . .

“So why do you get mad?”

Because if she’d gotten her symptoms checked earlier, she might’ve lived. If she’d
fought harder—

“Because I couldn’t do anything for her.”

And it’d been his job to take care of her.

“So now you think you should be able to cure cancer?”

The dry sarcasm in her voice finally drew out his smile, even through thoughts of
Mia.

“Maybe I should.”

She huffed. “Yeah, and maybe one day I’ll be able to weave wool into gold.”

Which was as good a segue as any. “Jed told me he talked to you about a lingerie boutique
for the spa. He also said you haven’t given him an answer yet.”

She stiffened, and he could’ve kicked himself. He didn’t want to lose her. Didn’t
want her to walk away and leave him. Not now.

“That’s because I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not sure I’m ready to put myself out there like that.”

It was a reasonable doubt, he supposed. Especially for someone who’d never tried it
before. “Have you shown your designs to Jed? He has a great eye.”

It was something he and his brother shared, though Jared mainly dealt with art and
Tyler with architecture. Lingerie wasn’t much different than art, he figured.

She nodded. “He’s seen some of my pieces.”

Tyler smiled. “Let me guess . . . on Annabelle.”

She arched perfect eyebrows at him. “Of course. No way was
I
modeling for him.”

Damn right she wasn’t. Tyler would’ve had to punch his brother.

“Then he’s seen that you have talent. Trust me. Jed’s as much a businessman as I am.
He wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t think you could do it and make money. Not even
to get in good with Annabelle.”

Her gaze shifted away for a split second. “Maybe you’d like to see some of my work?
Judge for yourself?”

His throat went completely dry and his heart started to gallop.

Was she offering to model for him? Would he be able to keep his hands off her if she
did?

Kate pointed over her shoulder. “My apartment’s just up the street. I could show you
a few of my sketches and I have several samples.”

Okay, not offering to model for him.
Damn.

He forced a smile. “If you’d like to show me, I’d love to see them.”

Her expression totally transformed. This was the smile he’d been waiting to see. No
trace of sarcasm, just pure, sweet pleasure.

His pulse began to pound and his cock throbbed.

“Then follow me,” she said.

He fell into step beside her and silence settled between them, the only sound the
click of Kate’s heels against the pavement and the almost inaudible hum of traffic
on the highway to the east.

He could almost imagine they were the only two people awake at the moment. A few windows
glowed from within but most were dark. Annabelle had probably invited the entire town
to the gallery opening.

A few streetlights provided enough illumination for them to make their way along the
sidewalk but didn’t glare down at them.

The air smelled fresher here, cleaner. Philadelphia air always had an underlying scent
of decay and diesel fumes.

It took only a minute to reach their destination—a three-story, brick town house with
a small porch.

“My apartment’s on the second floor,” she said as she pushed open the white picket
gate between her townhouse and the identical one next to it. “The entrance is on the
side.”

A security light flashed on and he released the breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been
holding.

As a city dweller, you learned to be wary of shadows. It’d be so easy for someone
to hide in the dark spots along the side of the house, waiting for her to return.
She hadn’t even looked for danger before opening the gate.

As they walked up the wooden stairs along the side of the house, he allowed his gaze
to drop again to the slight sway of her slim ass beneath the dress. His hands clenched,
his fingers practically itching to touch her. He wanted to crowd up against her and
bend her over right here. Ease up her dress, unzip his pants, and slide his cock between
her thighs and inside.

He managed to clamp down on those thoughts before she reached the landing at the top
and opened the door, ushering him inside and closing the door behind her.

She’d left a light on and the room that came into view made him smile.

It fit her.

Bright red walls with deep purple curtains on the two large windows at the front of
the building. A gold love seat and a purple and gold patterned chaise formed a small
seating area in front of a tiny, ornate fireplace on the left side of the room with
a TV in the corner. Pictures covered the walls, all in different frames. Sketches,
photos, watercolors, oils. He couldn’t discern a theme but the jumble seemed to work
well together.

“Would you like something to drink? I don’t have much alcohol but I do have soda.”

He turned to find her in the small kitchen area at the back of the house. Bright white
cabinets and counters and a small round table with four chairs, all in black, looked
pristine.

Everything had a place in her apartment and everything was in its place.

“Soda’s fine.”

As she turned to the refrigerator, he caught a glimpse of what looked like her workroom
behind the living room. The jumble of color drew him closer. He knew he shouldn’t
be traipsing around her home, poking into places, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

He reached for the light switch on the wall and the second he flipped it, he realized
he had to have the woman in his bed or die trying.

Holy hell. He was going to have to give Jed a raise, which meant nothing considering
they split the profits fifty-fifty. Still . . .
Jesus
.

“I’ve been a sketching demon the past couple of weeks. Obviously it’s not all good.
Some of it’s crap, actually, but—”

“Kate. Nothing in here is crap.”

Actually, the word he’d use would be
amazing
.

She’d tapped into every man’s secret sexual fantasies. Tiny bits of lace and satin
stitched together in ways designed to fuel a man’s desires.

The short back wall had been lined with shelves, where mounds of fabric were separated
according to color. In the front of the room, a sewing table and drafting table sat
facing one another in front of the large double window.

Another table topped with a grid formed a triangle with the other two.

Most of the room, however, was given over to dress forms.

There were at least eight and all wore lingerie. Other pieces hung from a thin metal
cable that stretched along the entire length of the white side wall.

Every piece enticed him to stroke it, rub it between his fingers. Or tear it off a
willing woman’s body.

All colors of the rainbow. Every conceivable fabric. Lace, satin, velvet, silk, cotton.
Even a few pieces of leather. Panties, thongs, bras, corsets.

Did all the air in the room just evaporate?

His cock responded with a surge and he took some time to will his erection to recede.
At least to the point that it wouldn’t be so damn obvious.

When she brushed by him, his skin broke out in gooseflesh.

She headed toward one of the mannequins displaying a camisole created from sheer cream
lace and triangles of peach satin that would barely cover a woman’s nipples. “I’m
not sure I like the peach and the cream on this piece. I think it may be too subtle.”

Hoping like hell his voice wouldn’t crack on him, he said, “I think it’s beautiful.”
And would look amazing on her with her coloring.

She slid a glance over her shoulder at him, a shy smile curving her lips. Since
shy
wasn’t really a word he associated with Kate, it charmed him all to hell.

“Thank you. I’ve been spending most of my spare time working on designs, but now I
need to get a few more models, a few different shapes and sizes. Some pieces just
naturally look better on women with a certain body type. But I want to make sure I
have pieces for everybody and not just flat-chested models or busty porn stars.” She
paused to take a breath, her mouth twisting in a grimace. “And I’m probably not making
any sense at all.”

“Makes perfect sense to me.”

Her smile grew a little wider.

“This style”—she pointed to the camisole—“is made to enhance a woman with a smaller
bust. This one”—she reached for a deep purple bra with ruffled straps and see-through
lace cups and waved it at him—“absolutely needs a woman who can fill it out.” He nodded,
not trusting himself to speak right now.

“This is my favorite place in the whole world,” she continued. “I can lose myself
in here for hours. I love the texture of the fabrics. I even love the sound of the
machine. It reminds me of music after a while.”

She paused, but he didn’t want her to stop. “How long have you been sewing?”

“Oh, I’ve been designing clothing since I was a kid. I started asking my parents for
a sewing machine when I was seven. They finally bought me one when I was ten, when
they were sure I wouldn’t sew my fingers together. I’d spend entire weekends in my
bedroom, making dresses for my dolls and later for my friends.”

“Sounds like you knew exactly what you wanted to do with your life at an early age.”

The smile she’d been wearing faded. “I did. I was going to be a costume designer.”
She let out a deep sigh. “And then my mom died a month before graduation.”

He heard deep sorrow in those few words. “Kate. I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “It’s been years but I still have that ache you talked about earlier.
And I never made it to New York. I work for a dry cleaner and hem wedding dresses
and suits for a living. Far cry from designing stage costumes.” Her eyes flashed at
him, daring him. “Are you really sure you want to take a chance on an unproven designer?
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to talk you out of it. I know how big an opportunity
this is for me. But . . .”

She was nervous. He understood that. But she couldn’t let it paralyze her. “After
seeing your work, I think Jed is absolutely right. Your pieces are beautiful. Sensual.”
He paused then decided to go for it. “Arousing.”

Her eyes widened, her lips parting as if she couldn’t get enough air. Blood pounded
through his veins, lust driving it.

Then he froze. Was he really going to do this? Was he really going to seduce her?

It wasn’t like she’d be the first woman he slept with since Mia’s death. There’d been
others. Okay, there’d been two. But neither of them had been anything other than a
release.

And yes, he realized how that sounded. Cold. Unemotional.

But he’d been careful to choose women who were looking for the same. And the Salon—the
secret play room that Jed had created at Haven—catered to several women whose tastes
matched his own.

Which should be a major consideration here.

Kate had no idea what he liked, in what direction his tastes lay.

Would he shock her? Would she think he was a freak?

Or, like Mia, would she be willing to experiment?

“I live in a very small town.” Her voice never wavered. “And I just broke off my engagement.”

He heard what she was saying. She didn’t have to spell things out.

But he wasn’t going to give up. Not this time. Not when, as she’d just reiterated,
she was no longer engaged.

“Would you like to come back to Philadelphia with me tonight? It’s still early. We
have a local jazz quartet playing in the bar tonight. If we leave now, we can make
their late set.”