Lessons in Seduction. Sandra Hyatt
Friday, Danni pulled up to Adam’s wing of the palace in the Bentley. The sandstone building towered above her, the shadows seeming to hide secrets and to mock her for how little she knew. What had she gotten herself into? There was no protocol for this situation, for being part driver, part honest adviser, part friend. She took a fortifying breath. All she could do was to stick with what she knew and maybe trust her instincts. At least she wouldn’t be expected to guard her tongue quite as closely as normal.
She got out and waited by the passenger door while he was notified of her arrival. On those occasions she had driven for him in the past, he’d been scrupulously punctual. Tonight was no different. As the clock on the distant tower chimed seven, he appeared, stepping out into a pool of light.
Danni looked at him and couldn’t figure out whether this was going to be ridiculously easy or ridiculously difficult.
She was still shaking her head as he stopped in front of her. “You have something to say? Already?”
“Yes. You’re wearing a suit and tie.”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to have dinner at the riverside jazz festival?”
“Yes.” He managed to make that single word of agreement intimidating.
But it was clearly time for some of the honesty he’d said he trusted her to voice. “Nobody wears a suit and tie to a jazz festival.”
“I do.”
“Not tonight. This is not a state dinner.” She held out her upturned palm. “Hand over the tie.” For a moment Danni thought he might refuse. “You want my help?”
Gritting his teeth, he loosened his tie and slid it from around his neck. He dropped the strip of fabric into her hand. “Satisfied?”
She closed her fingers around the warm silk. “No.”
“No?”
“The top button.” She nodded at the neck of his shirt.
His lips pressed together but he reached up, undid the button then dropped his hand and looked at her patiently. Obviously waiting for her approval. But he still didn’t look quite right. He still looked tense and formal. A little fierce almost.
“And the next one.”
He opened his mouth, about to protest, she was certain, then closed it again and slowly undid the second button.
“Much better,” she said. “Just that extra button makes you look far more relaxed, almost casual. In a good way,” she added before he could object. She wanted to tousle his hair, mess it up just a little but knew that tousled hair would be a step too far for Adam. Tonight anyway. Maybe they could work on that. She settled for reaching up and spreading his collar a little wider. “See, this vee of chest?” She pointed at what she meant, at what riveted her gaze. “Women like that. It’s very appealing.”
“It is?”
“Definitely. And you smell really good. That’s always a bonus.” She was close enough to know. Without thinking she closed her eyes and inhaled. And the image of a shirtless Adam—branded in her memory—came back. The image had lurked there since the incident that had gotten her banned from driving. Her shortcut, the potholes, the spilling of his coffee that had required him to change his shirt in the back of the limo. Oh, yes. She’d seen him shirtless then. An unthinking glimpse in the rearview mirror of a broad contoured torso and sculpted abs. More than appealing. A fleeting moment of stunned and heated eye contact. It was a sight that had left her breathless and slightly dazed and slipped into her dreams. His banning her after that episode had almost been a relief.
She opened her eyes now to find him studying her, curiosity in his gaze and something like confusion. Despite the cool night Danni felt suddenly warmer. This new role was an adjustment for both of them. The normal boundaries of protocol and etiquette had blurred—they had to—but it left her floundering. Maybe she ought not to have admitted with such enthusiasm that his chest was appealing or that he smelled good. But surely if she was going to criticize and point out where she thought he went wrong, then she also needed to point out where she thought he went right.
She reached for his door, opened it wide.
She slipped his tie into her pocket, stepped back and gestured to the open door. “Let’s go find your princess.”
An hour later boredom was setting in. Just another reason, she reminded herself, why she’d never have made a good chauffeur. No matter how much her father would have liked it for her.
Danni fiddled with the radio again, adjusted her seat and her mirrors, and then leaned over and opened the glove compartment. A white card stood propped up inside. Definitely not regulation. Frowning, she pulled out the card. Across the front in strong sloping letters it read, “Just in case.” Behind the card sat a white cardboard box. Curious, Danni pulled it out and opened it. Neatly arranged inside was a selection of gourmet snacks.
The thoughtfulness of the gesture had her grinning and taking back any uncharitable thoughts she’d ever had about Adam.
Another hour passed, during which Danni snacked and read, before Adam and his date walked out of the restaurant. Was that a hint of a stagger to the fashion-model-slender Anna’s gait as she laughed and leaned against Adam? Perhaps having so little body fat meant she was just cold and needed to absorb some of his heat.
But the impression Danni got was that there had been no shortage of the champagne that they’d started—at her suggestion—on the way to the restaurant.
Anna somehow managed to stay plastered to Adam as they got into the backseat. At a nod from him—and a brief moment of eye contact, Danni drove off.
At the first set of traffic lights, she glanced in the mirror. And then just as quickly looked away.
Anna apparently had no need for eye contact or poetry. Maybe there had been enough of that in the riverside restaurant. She had undone more of Adam’s buttons and had slid her hand into the opening. It certainly didn’t appear that anyone was cold anymore. The screen between them blocked out most sound but Danni could hear Anna’s laughter, throaty and, Danni supposed, sexy. Some men might like it. Some men apparently being Adam.
She thought of the tie still in her pocket and knew that there was something wrong with her because she wanted to pass it back to him and tell him to put it on. But really, carrying on like that, it was undignified. Then again, it was the sort of thing she’d once expected from Rafe, and never thought it was undignified in his case. But the two brothers were different. They always had been. Adam was all about barriers. And the way the woman in the back had bypassed them didn’t seem right.
Danni’s only consolation was that it looked like her work here was done. He’d been deluding himself if he’d thought he needed her help and she’d been deluding herself if she’d thought she had any to offer. He didn’t need help at all. Anna was doing all the work. And they were both clearly enjoying themselves while she did it. Danni would be able to go home and forget all about Adam Marconi and his search for the right woman.
Her grip on the wheel tight and her jaw even tighter, Danni pulled to a stop in front of Anna’s apartment building. And maybe, just maybe, her stop wasn’t quite as gentle as it ought to have been.
The couple in the backseat drew apart. Anna trailed her long red fingernails down the front of Adam’s shirt. The green-and-gold-uniformed doorman stepped forward to open the car door and the couple got out, Anna still managing to drape herself over Adam. Danni wasn’t sure if she was whispering into Adam’s ear or trying to eat it. It looked like the latter. Danni rubbed at her own ear in sympathy.
Not wanting to watch her passengers walk to the doorway of Anna’s building—public displays of affection held no appeal—she retrieved her book and reclined her seat. She hadn’t even found her page when Adam reappeared and slid into the backseat.
“The palace,” he said, the words terse. He lowered the privacy screen