Undercover Heat (15 page)

“Why don’t you open it and find out.”

She slipped the plastic over the hanger, revealing the long black dress she had seen earlier that day. The beading sparkled like tiny
kaleidoscopes in the low light.

“I could tell you really liked it when you saw it.”

“I love it,” she said, running her hand over the silky fabric. “But it’s so expensive.”

“Darlin’ don’t you worry about that stuff. Now go put it on. You’ve made me wait long enough.”

She slipped back into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. In five years, she had never indulged this side of her. The girlie-girl that liked to dress up in designer clothes and fix her hair and make-up. Magazines used to call her “sexy,” but the word used most to describe her was “fiery.” Back then, she was naïve enough to think it was in reference to her hair, but she now came to understand it was actually an impression she gave. She remembered one article that Earl read out loud on the set. “Carrie Ann Langley is rare type of vixen that makes a man feel like a man.” She had no clue what that meant, but Ty had told her that it was a compliment.

As she slipped the fabric over her, she truly felt like a woman. Her curves pushed the dress to its limits, her breasts spilled over the top as if in offering. But she wasn’t inclined to cover herself. She felt good. Confident. Real. She swept her hair up in a loose bun, allowing tendrils to fall around her face. Her makeup was sparse by
Hollywood
standards. Just a light foundati
on, some mascara and lip gloss.

When she came out from the bathroom, Ty lay on the bed with the remote in his hand. He tossed it to the side when he saw her, whistled and motioned with his finger to turn around.

“Do you like it?” she asked, indulging him with a second pirouette.

“You’re gorgeous.” He rose to his feet, half laughing. “But as long as you wear that smile you could sport a garbage bag, and I’d still think you were the sexiest woman alive.”

“Sweet talker.” She stood on her tip toes and reached up for a kiss. “So you said forty-five minutes and I made it in...”
s
he checked her watch “
…
thirty-two. Are you impressed or what?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. And to reward you for your efforts, you get a bonus prize.” From behind his back, he produced a long leather box. He placed it in her hands and smiled. “Open it.”

Her fingers trembled, as she pulled the box open. Lying on the white silk lay the largest sapphire she’d ever seen, surrounded by a cluster of flawless diamonds. She stared at them a moment before Ty eased it out of the clasp. “Tyler James,” she stammered. “Goodness, this is beautiful.”

“The lady said it was vintag
e. That’s a good thing I think.
”

“Good and expensive,” she said. “I can’t accept this.”

“What good is money if you can’t spend it? And besides a woman like you should have the best.”

He spun her around and lifted the necklace in front of her. When the cool gems fell against her skin, she swallowed her protests in a gulp.

“Now let’s get going,” he whispered in her ear. “The limousine is waiting.”

Chapter Ten

Ty lifted the champagne to his lips and took a long sip. He couldn’t remember when he had such a great meal with someone he could actually relax and enjoy it. The restaurant, quiet, dimly lit, had a violinists floating from table to table. He stared at the redheaded beauty across from him and smiled.
Couldn’t beat the view either.

“You’re staring, again.”

“Was I?” He set his fork down and picked up his napkin. “I was just thinking what I wanted for desert.”

“I’m surprised you chose a French restaurant. Since when did your tastes get so fancy?”

“I don’t know. When I was filming in
Italy
, we had a small hiatus, so I bummed around the south of
France
for a few weeks. Developed a taste for it, I guess.

“Well, I’m glad I let you order. I don’t know what I just ate, but it was excellent.”

“I wish you’d eat a little more of it.”

Her eyes darted around the room. When they landed back on her plate, she slid her wrap up over her arms. Ty knew both the look and the gesture. She had a thing about her arms. Those and her legs. He swirled what was left of the champagne in his glass and fixed an easy smile on his face. “Carrie, if people are looking, it’s because they can’t help themselves. Y
ou’re beautiful.”

“Thank you
,
” she said, bringing a small bite of asparagus to her mouth. “It’s been a while since I’ve been out in public with you. I mean in a position where we’re so obvious.”

“Obvious?” He chuckled. “This is what Manny calls ‘hiding in plain sight.’ Renting out a private dining room would have been obvious. This is two old friends catching up.”

Again, he scanned the dining room. Earlier today, he swore he saw one of those vulture paparazzi hanging around at some of the places they visited. He hadn’t mentioned it to Carrie, and he wasn’t going to now.

“
Tyler
?”

“What, baby?”

“I asked you about Manny. Was he mad that we ditched him with Lizzie?”

When Ty called him earlier, he expected at least a little attitude, but he was surprised that Manny actually enjoyed himself. “No. He said Lizzie was a quick study. They were done long before your father came home. Then he rented some skis and took off to the hill.”

“That’s good. I was wondering how we were going to explain him to my dad.”

“Are you
going to tell him about us?”

She looked at him ove
r her water glass “Listen, Ty.”

“I’m sorry.” He held up his hand in apology. “I know, I’m pushing you. I’ll stop.”

“You’re not pushing anything. I wouldn’t have come to
New York
with you if I didn’t want to spend time with you.”

She shifted in her seat, and from over her shoulder, Ty saw him. He sat at the bar, and now the hostess showed him to his table on the far end of the dining room. Far away, but with a perfect view of their table. Typical.

“Excuse me, are you Carrie Ann Langley?”

Carrie set down her wine glass and looked up at the man. “Can I help you?”

“More than you know. My name is Max Freeberg. I’m casting a show that I think would be perfect for you. I know you were with the New York City Ballet, and your expertise would be an honor for us. I don’
t suppose...he
took a breath and gave her a once over. “Good Lord, you’re
even more stunning in person.”

Ty stared at the tall, well-groomed man with the wide solicitous smile of a man on the make. He slipped a card from the breast pocket of his well-tailored suit, and handed it to Carrie.

“Hey pal,” Ty interrupted. ‘Have your people call hers. She's having dinner.”

Max smiled at Ty, as if just realizing he was there and extended his hand to shake. “Mr. Hollister, it’s an honor to meet you, of course.”

“Of course.
Now get the hell out of here.”

Carrie kicked Ty under the table, before addressing the man. “I’m flattered you thought of me Mr. Freeberg, but I’m afraid I’m not interested. I haven’t danced in years.”

“I can see. You do look well fed.” He chuckled. “If it’s the preparation you’re worried about we’d be happy to accommodate you-”

“Hey! Are you deaf?” Ty tossed his napkin on the table and jumped up from his seat
.
“She’s not interested. Now can you find the door yourself, or do I have to help you?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Hollister
,
is everything okay?” The manager pushed between the two men. Ty shoved him back, stil
l looking square in Max’s face.

“We were having a quiet dinner before this jerk showed up.”

“I’m sorry,” the manager said.

“Yeah, me too.” Ty tossed a wad of cash on the table, and took Carrie by the hand. He hurried her across the dining room toward the front doors, right past the man sitting alone in the corner.

“Ty, stop it!” Carrie hissed. “You’re making a scene!”

People gawked and whispered as they passed, but he didn’t care. He wanted to get her out of there before the jerk’s words sunk in too far. Blowing off the coatroom, he headed straight to the limo. He ushered her inside and ordered the driver back to the Waldorf.

“What the hell was that all about?” Carrie demanded, her head snapping back as the car pulled away from the curb.

“We’ll ta
lk about it back at the hotel.”

“Are you crazy causing a scene like that? That’s going to be on every paper tomorrow.”

“I heard what that guy said to you. I didn’t want you to get upset.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to shatter into a million pieces every time some guy gives me a backhanded compliment.”

“And how do I know that, Carrie? This is hard for me, ya know
.
I’m used to taking care of you. P
rotecting you.”

“Are you saying that you prefer me sick?”

“Of course not.” His attention drifted to the bottle of bourbon on the bar in front of him. He poured himself a shot, and brought it to his lips, before
Carrie eased it from his hand.

“
Tyler
, I’m flattered that you want to look after me. But there’s a difference between treating me like a lady and treating me like a child.”

“Believe me, I don’t think of you as a child.” He tossed his head back and covered his eyes. “Look, I don’t mean to insult your intelligence or anything else. But I guess I’m just used to looking af
ter you, that’s all. Old habit.
”

“I’m not your responsibility.”

“Well, maybe I like to think that you are.” He looked out the window and took a breath. “I just don’t want to make the same mistakes I made before.”

He felt her slide up against him, her fingers slipped under his chin, meeting her gaze with his. Man, those eyes. He could lose himself there. The deep azure pools that turned his insides to jelly were now at odds with his composure. They bore into him like l
asers, holding him to his seat.

“
Tyler
, you have always mattered to me, and I care about you enough to tell you this. I have forgiven you for any part you had in what happened. But now you need to forgive yourself, because I can tell this is tearing you apart.”

Five years had done nothing to dull her perception. He felt exposed, like she stared straight into his soul. God, if she only knew. He didn’t deserve forgiveness, not hers or his own. He was a useless liar, and if the girl required protection, it was from
the person staring back at her.

Something tickled his cheek, and when he dragged his finger across it, it was moist. Jesus, was he crying? Nice. Ty Hollister, Hollywood bad boy, had been reduced to tears by a five foot pixy. He shook his head and smiled. “Carrie Ann, I just want a chance. I know I don’t deserve one. But you can’t deny that there’s still something between us.”

He held his breath. It was like his whole existence depended on this very moment. The glutton in him wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms, but the shred of decency still residing within
him held him stuck to his seat.

“I don’t know how much of my
self I can afford to give you.”

“Well then take from me what I’m offering instead. You can’t break a heart that’s already broken.” It was a huge admission, but he didn’t care. Their telepathy would betray him. Again, he reached for the bourbon, b
ut she caught his hand in hers.

“I want the Ty that I used to know,” she whispered. “The real one.”

“He’s yours, if you can find him.”

“Oh, I found h
im. He’s right in front of me.”

His body quaked when she kissed him. Hard and long. Crippling. All his defenses failed. He felt it. The impenetrable wall, he had haphazardly constructed, crumbled like match sticks. He had no resistance when it came to Carrie. Somehow, just being with her, she exposed his soul. The places in his heart no one had ever seen. He suddenly realized there really was a difference between the real Ty Hollister and the movie star playboy the world expected. A kind of strange schizophrenia that became his method of self- preservation. Sometimes he wondered if he even still existed. But like a beacon, Carrie had summoned his true se
lf to the surface.

“You know, I was thinking maybe we should make the most out of this week.” She slid onto his lap and rested her head on his shoulder. “Do some catching up.”

“You were, huh?”

“Yeah and a small town girl like me needs an escort around the big city. I was hoping you could show me a good time.” The pitch of her voice rose to a chirp as she undid the knot of his tie. “I made a mental list of all the things I’d like to do. Want to hear it?”

“I’m all ears.
”

“Well, first I’d like to see a show or two. And I’d like to head to the ballet.”

“I figured as much,” he said. “What else?”

“I’d like to skate at
Rockefeller
Center
, go to a Knicks game and...
” She put a finger to her chin, as if she trying to remember. “Oh yeah, and I want to make love to the Sexiest Man Alive in the back of a stretch limo while driving through Central Park.”

“That’s quite a list.” He teased, nuzzling the slope of her neck. “And I hope you have me in mind when you do that sex-through-Central-Park-thing.

She released another buttons and smiled. “T
here’s never been anyone else.”

After alerting the driver of their change in route, Ty pushed his fingers through her copper hair, letting the strands tangle between. Outside the tinted windows the city lights passed in blurs, shadowing her face in a gray-blue haze. Her signature scent of spring flowers and pure woman honed his every sense to razor sharp. This was need. An acute and constant craving for this one woman. He couldn’t control it and didn’t want to.

He found the zipper on the back of her dress and slid the bodice down past her breasts. Now these were God’s version of perfect. Round and soft with eager nipples. He cupped them both, before taking one in his mouth.

Her staccato heartbeat drummed in his ears, and he felt the cool heat on her dampened skin. He teased her with his tongue, and nibbled with his teeth. Good God, what the woman did to him. “I love how real you are, Carrie,” he whispered, more to himself than to her. “Everything abo
ut you is honest. I miss that.”

To anyone else the words would be senseless, but they had always spoken a language all their own. Words were secondary to intuition and instinct. And the proof was in her kiss.

She tasted like wine and just as intoxicating. Soft, yet obvious with desire. He deepened the kiss, searched her mouth with his tongue, and ran his palms over her bare back. With the dexterity of a driven man, he gathered the fabric of her dress and hoisted it over her head. He tossed it on the seat beside them, and her black lace panties soon followed.

New York City
passed before them in oblivion and faded when they reached the park. Minutes passed in seconds, and soon his clothes were cast on top of hers. She wrapped around him like a ribbon of warmth, drawing him close and holding him tight. He kissed her belly, easing lower, wanting to taste her, drink her. His lips trailed down the inside of her thigh, and she tensed with anticipation.

He brought his mouth to her. She gasped at the sudden contact. Her fingers tangled in his hair, urging him further, until she panted and moaned his name. Carrie had always been a responsive lover, each touch, each kiss an encounter all its own. This was Carrie in her rawest form. Open, unguarded. His. No woman turned him on like Carrie. It was true back then, and g
ood Lord it was still true now.

He reached up and stroked her breast, teasing the nipple the way he knew she liked. Again she responded with a blissful whimper, quivering like a tuning fork underneath him. Her excitement fueled his, and he couldn’t wait any longer. H
e needed to be inside her. Now.