Secret Seduction. Lori Wilde

Secret Seduction - Lori Wilde


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said. “A workaholic.”

      She eyed his biceps straining against the sleeves of his shirt. She wished she had X-ray vision so she could see the delineation of each strata of those muscles. “I can see you’re not a slacker in the exercise department. What do you do to keep your guns in shape?”

      He smiled and flexed his upper arms. The man had every reason in the world to be proud of his spectacular physique. “Power lifting. But for fun, I kayak the Colorado. You ever been?”

      “No,” she admitted. Not much opportunity for kayaking where she came from. “But it sounds like fun.”

      “Maybe I’ll take you sometime.”

      Hope coiled tight inside her. Sometime. Ha! There’d be no other time with him. Now was all she could afford and even this was risky. She ducked her head, busied herself with spearing a bit of juicy tenderloin. “So you’re a Texan?”

      “Born and raised,” he said.

      “Where’s your hometown?”

      “Right here in Austin. You?”

      “El Paso.”

      “What brought you to Austin? Boyfriend? Husband?”

      “Is this your way of asking if I’m attached?”

      His eyes darkened. “Hey, no guy likes ugly surprises when he’s out with a pretty woman.”

      The comment made her smile. “I’m single,” she said. “Never married.”

      “I’m single, as well.” Tanner nodded, but he had a strange look on his face, almost as if he were lying. “So you’re in Austin because…”

      Here he was asking the question she dreaded most. Vanessa gave him the pat answer that was only partly the truth. “Med school.”

      The minute the words were out of her mouth, she could have bitten off her tongue. She hadn’t wanted him to know she was a doctor. A lot of guys got weird when they found out what she did for a living. Many of them felt challenged by a smart, successful woman.

      “You’re a doctor?” He sounded impressed.

      “Resident.”

      “I see why you don’t have much time for fun.”

      “Work does take up most of my time.”

      “So what is your favorite classic movie, when you have time to indulge your passion?” he asked.

      “Dark Victory,” she said without hesitation.

      “You go for the tearjerkers.”

      “Tearjerkers are more like real life.”

      “Which is exactly why some people like to escape into comedies.”

      “Let me guess, you’re a Three Stooges fan,” she said. “Or maybe the Marx Brothers?”

      “Actually, “ he admitted, “when it comes to classic movies, it’s John Wayne all the way.”

      “I should have guessed.” She smiled. “What’s your fav? Rio Bravo?

       “McLintock!”

      “Seriously?”

      “I’m a sucker for romance. Plus Maureen O’Hara was pretty easy on the eyes. I have a thing for feisty women.” He winked.

      Suddenly she had a hard time catching her breath.

      The conversation lagged and Vanessa didn’t try to stir it. Strangely enough, the silence between them didn’t feel awkward at all. It felt nice. Natural.

      They finished their meal and lingered over a cup of coffee.

      “What’s your specialty?” Tanner asked.

      “Specialty?” She was so busy staring at his impressively broad shoulders, his question caught her off guard and for a minute there she thought he was asking her a very personal question.

      “Pediatrics, internal medicine, heart surgeon?”

      “Cosmetic and reconstructive surgery.”

      “Really?” His tone sounded almost accusatory.

      She bristled. “Something wrong with plastic surgery?”

      “Settle down,” he said. “The question wasn’t a shot against your chosen career. You just seem like you’d be a pediatrician.”

      “Why? Because I’m a woman? You just assume I’d be good with kids?” She knew she sounded defensive. She didn’t even know why she was reacting this way.

      Tanner held up his palms. “I surrender. I can see I’m snugged up behind the eight ball on this one.”

      He looked so contrite, Vanessa laughed. “Well, thanks for having dinner with me, Tanner,” she said, opening her wallet to pull out enough cash to cover the cost of her meal.

      His hand closed over hers. “Dinner is on me.”

      “No,” she said and lifted her chin proudly. “I always pay my own way.”

      He didn’t argue, just let go of her hand. Vanessa suddenly realized she was breathless. “All right,” he said. “If you insist. But then at least let me give you a ride home.”

      “I’ll catch a cab.”

      “Beholden to no one,” he said lightly.

      “That’s right.”

      He studied her for a long moment. “Doesn’t it ever get exhausting?”

      “What?”

      “Never letting anyone help you. Always going it alone.”

      “I’ve been beholden to people before,” she said. “There are always strings attached. I prefer life without any ties that bind.”

      “So you don’t have any family.”

      “No.”

      “Don’t you ever get lonely?

       Yes.

      The man was too perceptive. It unnerved her that he could assess her so easily, how much he seemed to understand.

      Vanessa swung her purse strap up on her shoulder and pushed back her chair. “Nice dance, nice meal, have a nice life, Tanner.”

      She got to her feet, her movements tense and jerky. She felt so many conflicting things at once—nervousness, disappointment, sexual frustration—and he was the cause of it all.

       Not really. Carlo Vega has a lot to do with you ending up here.

      “What’s your hurry, Vanessa?”

      She wished she’d given him a fake name. The sound of her name on his tongue, spoken in that deep, arresting voice, did funny things to her insides. “It’s late,” she said. “I gotta go.”

      Without a backward glance, she hurried from the hotel restaurant, pushing through the revolving glass door and ending up on the vacant street.

      The wind had kicked up while they’d been inside, tossing litter and leaves along the sidewalk. Lightning lit the sky in the distance. Thunder rumbled. An unseasonable rainstorm on the way.

      Goose bumps raised on her arms. Who would have thought she’d need long sleeves in August in Austin?

      She walked to the front of the hotel entrance, but there were no cabs at the cab stand. She stood underneath the streetlamp, glancing up and down the block. No taxi in sight, but surely one would be along in a minute. No sign of the valet, either. She paced to the end of the block, feeling like a target in her red dress and high heels. Maybe she should wait in the hotel lobby.

      And risk running


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