“He’s here as a friend.” Even to her own ears the words sounded hollow.

  Sahara snorted in disbelief. “Friend, my ass. The man practically had his hand on your ass. The only friends who act that way are friends with benefits,” she teased with a suggestive swivel of her hips. “Is that the kind of friends you’re talking about?”

  “First of all, his hand was not on my ass,” Kennedy insisted, her voice fierce and low. Close to it, maybe even grazing it a little, but not actually on it. “And there are no benefits.” And God willing, there wouldn’t be.

  “Let’s see how long that lasts,” Sahara said with another snort. “I know men, and that man was looking at you like a man who wants to...be more than friends.”

  “Don’t I have a say in the matter?”

  “You didn’t seem to mind his hand on your ass.” Without giving her a chance to register her protest, Sahara forged on. “Funny, I never figured you for a blonde.”

  “Aurora is blonde. Her brother is not.”

  “Okay, light brown or whatever. You know what I mean.”

  Kennedy knew exactly what she meant. A white guy. Except for Nate, she’d never dated one before, and she hadn’t told Sahara about him.

  Sahara peered out into the room and spotted him weaving his way through the crowd toward them. She murmured appreciatively, “But if you’re going to spread your wings, you definitely want to fly his way. He looks like he’s got the goods.”

  Kennedy’s face grew warm. “Oh stop. It’s not what you think.” It was close enough to what she was thinking.

  Sahara gave her the look. “How about you quit lying? You know you want his hands on a lot more places than your gorgeous ass,” she said with a knowing, impish smile.

  There was no talking to her when she was in this mood.

  When Nate reached them, he merely smiled and handed her another glass of champagne.

  “Okay, now that your man’s back, let me run along. Duty calls. We’ll catch up later. And don’t you dare leave without coming to see me first.” Sahara departed with a swish of her skirts and more than a glimpse of a long, slim thigh.

  A smile spread slowly across Nate’s face. “Your man?” he said, cocking an eyebrow. Her date seemed to be enjoying himself way too much for her liking.

  “Ha ha, very funny,” Kennedy said, rolling her eyes. “That’s her idea of a joke.”

  His glass was midway to his mouth when he paused and asked, “Don’t you think her joke has a ring of truth to it?” He drank half the contents in one swallow, and the sight of his throat working was a surprisingly erotic one.

  Oh shit, she was in trouble. The evening had just started and she was so tipsy that Nate swallowing was turning her on—on less than two glasses of champagne! Either she’d turned into a lightweight overnight or this man was making her crazy. He’d managed to spark a light under her libido that she didn’t know needed a spark. But if he thought flirting would make her forget the way he’d behaved earlier, he had another think coming.

  “Don’t think you’re off the hook. I’m still mad at you,” she huffed.

  His blue eyes widened a fraction. “Come again?”

  There would be no coming once, much less again. At least, not with her.

  “Aidan,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “You don’t have to worry about him. He’s gone.”

  “You know that’s not what I meant. I’m talking about that performance you put on for him.”

  And then, because the timing gods obviously had her in their crosshairs tonight, they were interrupted again, proving these kinds of events were not conducive to private, meaningful conversations. This time their interruption arrived in the form of Aurora accompanied by her date, the lieutenant governor’s pretty nineteen-year-old daughter.

  Kennedy did her best to hide her surprise. Aurora hadn’t mentioned that Brittany Faulkner was her plus-one. Kennedy also hadn’t realized the two were that close. But then again, it made sense, considering the girl’s father had recently called trying to finagle a backstage pass to Sahara’s upcoming concert. To the teen, her favorite star’s glitzy launch party was probably ten times better. It certainly appeared that way by the gleeful look on her face.

  When it was time to sit down to eat and for the fashion show to begin, Jonathan and Darrell joined them at their assigned table, thrilled to have met two of their favorite singers.

  Nate, still not out of the doghouse, picked up the gorgeous Desert Queen gift bag from her chair and handed it to her. There were identical gift bags on the chairs at every table. Kennedy graciously accepted hers and peeked inside to find an assortment of perfumes, colognes, a box of Godiva chocolate, a smartwatch, and a Desert Queen five-hundred-dollar gift card.

  How lovely. Her mother and sister would love the perfume and the smartwatch, and she’d give the cologne to her father and brothers. The chocolate and the gift card were hers. Closing the bag, she placed it on the floor beside her.

  Nate pulled the chair out for her. As she sat, he brought his mouth close to her ear and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  Startled, Kennedy watched as he took the seat beside her. While everyone else was oohing and aahing over their gift-bag goodies, she leaned over and whispered, “Why did you have to take the bait? I expected you to be the bigger man.”

  When she saw he appeared to be struggling to prevent a smile from making an appearance, she could have kicked herself. It was a poor choice of words, but of course he’d take it like that.

  “You’re not suffering from a broken heart,” she clarified. Although, after the things Aidan had said to her, she didn’t think he was either.

  The only way to describe the look Nate gave her was piercing emotion simmering just under the surface. “Then what am I suffering from?”

  “I didn’t say you were suffering from anything.”

  Nate watched her for a beat, his expression shuttered. “What did he say to upset you?”

  The table had quieted and Kennedy noticed Aurora giving her the is everything all right? look. In response, she flashed her a reassuring smile.

  “Nothing. Nothing that matters.” Aurora would say Aidan had been hurt and was lashing out. Her sister would say someone should slap him upside his head.

  Nate’s mouth tightened a fraction. “Okay, how about this. I want to talk to you alone tonight. Just us. Can we stop by my apartment before I take you home?”

  Kennedy stared at him, not knowing quite what to say. “Talk about what?”

  “How we’re going to handle your ex-boyfriends in the future. It’s clear we’ll be tripping over them every time we go out.” He said it all with a straight face. Then his mouth eased into a smile. “Plus, I have a French press at home, and I know how you love your caramel macchiato frappes.”

  Her heart shouldn’t palpitate at those words, but it did. She couldn’t believe that, after all these years, he remembered.

  “I have a French press at home too.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “But I bet you’re out of caramel.”

  Kennedy bit back a gasp. Either he was a master psychic, or he’d recently broken into her apartment.

  Nate let out a laugh. “I was right, wasn’t I?”

  “I’m checking my surveillance video when I get home tonight,” she joked.

  “As in, when I take you home after we stop by for a drink at my place?” he asked, his tone one part hopeful and two parts persuasive.

  Damn, the man knew how to wear a woman down. “All right, one drink,” Kennedy relented. Later she would blame it on her obvious state of inebriation (she had to be drunk—what else could explain why she would agree to be alone with him in his apartment?) and that thing he’d done to her libido when she’d realized the column of his throat was just as sexy as his abs.

  Seriously, though, one caramel macchiato frappe wouldn’t hurt, would it?

  16

  What on earth was I thinking?

  Kennedy could only marvel at the sheer depths of her stupidity. Agreeing to go to Nate’s apartment alone wasn’t just a bad idea, it rivaled the decision hapless college students made in those cheesy horror movies to go into the woods at night instead of toward the running car. Or was she getting that mixed up with an insurance commercial? Whichever, they were one and the same when it came to truly stupid decisions.

  Why hadn’t she taken her butt straight home tonight?

  “You know we could have had this conversation in the limo,” she remarked as he turned on the lights in the hall.

  Nate’s two-story penthouse apartment was equally as luxurious as his sister’s place but double the size.

  “So you said in the car,” he replied, his voice dry. “But that wasn’t our agreement. Anyway, I think we’ll be more comfortable here.” He gestured toward the living room that looked like something out of a lifestyle magazine. “I don’t think you’ve been to my place before.” His gaze turned speculative. “Unless Aurora brought you here while I was gone?”

  Kennedy shook her head and looked around. Aurora’s description of the place more than lived up to her expectations. Strangely, however, it had a single-family-home feel to it if you didn’t look out any of the windows, of which there were too many for her to count in the initial sweep of her gaze. The woodwork was a carpenter’s dream, the staircase leading to the second floor like nothing she’d ever seen before in anything classified as an apartment.

  “So it’s empty while you’re in France?” Kennedy stepped out of her heels with a contented moan. And just like that, his height advantage increased by three inches. The sandals might look great on, but they were definitely not made for walking. Or standing too long either.

  “Someone comes in twice a month to dust. And unless you tell me otherwise, my sister picks up the mail once a week.”

  “Every Saturday by noon, come hell or high water,” Kennedy confirmed. She fell in step beside him as they entered the two-story living room that had skyscrapers for windows.

  Nate motioned to the two oversized couches surrounding a beautiful stone fireplace. “Make yourself comfortable. Do you want whipped cream with your sugar-and-caffeine monstrosity?”

  Kennedy smiled in amusement as she padded across the wood floors and a plush area rug to the couch opposite a giant flat-screen television mounted on the wall. “No, that would be sugar overload.” The caffeine would do her good for her ride home. Nothing like falling asleep and having the driver shake her awake when they arrived at her apartment. “Oh, and just because I’m teetotaling it right now, it doesn’t mean you have to. Feel free to have a real drink.”

  On his way to the kitchen, Nate turned back to her once he reached the island and shrugged out of his jacket. “Are you trying to get me drunk?” he teased.

  “Very funny,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

  The striptease didn’t stop at his jacket. He proceeded to take off his tie, and then unbutton the first two buttons of his pristine white shirt. Kennedy thought she was handling herself just fine until he removed his cuff links and rolled up his sleeves, exposing a pair of sexy-as-sin forearms. That was when the apartment became unbearably hot and her mouth went dry, making it almost impossible to swallow.

  “...for dessert?”

  She blinked rapidly, his voice penetrating the momentary short-circuiting of her brain. “I’m sorry—what?” she asked, dragging her gaze up from his tanned forearms.

  Nate chuckled softly as if aware she’d been ogling him. “I asked if you’d like a slice of carrot cake or ice cream for dessert. I noticed you didn’t touch yours at dinner.”

  “That’s because I was saving those delicious empty calories for this.”

  Pull yourself together, she sternly admonished herself. You will not let this turn into a booty call.

  But the devil on her other shoulder demanded to have a say. Oh, who the hell do you think you’re fooling? You’re at his apartment, aren’t you? If you thought all you were going to do was talk, I have a bridge in Brooklyn in sore need of repair to sell you. C’mon, now. Be the twenty-first-century woman that you are and own your sex drive. You have physical needs like everybody else, and Nate is sending out signals brighter than the one Gotham City uses whenever there’s a misbehaving penguin on the loose.

  Tearing her gaze from him completely, Kennedy shushed both voices in her head. There would be no sex tonight. They’d do what they came to do, and then she’d go home to her own bed.

  Her big, lonely bed.

  “Okay, let’s have that talk now.” It was best she initiated and steered the conversation. “First off, we’ve only run into one of my ex-boyfriends. Sam was a blind date.”

  Nate shot a look at her over his shoulder. “You in a rush? Do you have somewhere else to be tonight?” he asked, amusement in his voice.

  “I figured a man of your vast accomplishments would be able to multitask,” she replied smartly, twisting around to place her feet on the couch and reclining against one of the overstuffed cushions. Much better.

  “You didn’t answer my question. Do you have somewhere else to be tonight?” he reiterated, making clear he was going to be a dog with a bone about it.

  Kennedy snorted softly. “Where would I go at eleven-thirty at night dressed like this?”

  Nate stood with his back to her. There was a momentary pause to whatever he was doing, and then all she heard was the clink of a utensil against ceramic. Seconds later, he was striding toward her carrying a saucer and a white ceramic mug.

  “I’m sure there are lots of places where you’d be welcomed dressed like that.” His voice was low and suggestive.

  Kennedy felt the heat of his gaze as it made a thorough tour of her body, from the tips of her pink-painted toes to her blazing-hot face. Clasping the handle of the cup tightly in her hand, she took a tentative sip. The drink was hot and so was she. It didn’t make for a comfortable combination. And of course, Nate was a whole different kind of hot.

  He remained there, at the couch, standing over her, watching her, his eyes giving off a heat of their own. She’d seen that look before. He’d been getting ready to peel her out of her clothes.

  Kennedy took another sip, her gaze meeting his in question. Would you please sit down already?

  “I’ll take your cup when you’re ready. So you won’t have to move,” he added, his gaze drifting over her bare legs stretched out on the couch.

  “Oh. Okay. Thank you,” she said once she realized she’d have to get up if she wanted to place her mug and saucer on the coffee table, which was several feet away. She took one more drink before readily surrendering both to him and watched him set them down.

  Stretched out as she was, Kennedy thought Nate would take a seat on the adjacent couch. She was wrong. She’d swear he owned the place—and her—the way he casually lifted her legs, sat down, and then placed them on his lap.

  Kennedy could only stare at him, surprised and hopelessly turned on at the same time. She immediately attempted to place her feet on the floor, but Nate gently grasped her legs. “It’s okay. I don’t mind,” he murmured as his thumb began making sensuous forays of her ankle.

  Heat bloomed at every point of contact and beyond. She stared at him, literally holding her breath because, at this point, breathing was impossible.

  “What are you doing?” she practically squeaked.

  “I’m making myself comfortable without disturbing you.”

  Without disturbing her? It was as if the man shoveled shit for a living, he was so adept at it.

  “Well, you may be comfortable, but I’m not.” She was hot, and other formerly dry parts of her were not anymore.

  Okay, now say it like you mean it. Your lady doth protest too much act won’t hold sway with this audience.

  “Relax.” If he intended to come across as calming or soothing, he missed it by a long shot but hit smoldering right on the mark. “We’re not going to do anything you don’t want. We’re just here to talk.”

  Not going to do anything you don’t want?

  Good lord, was that supposed to make her feel better when her panties were about to combust into a raging inferno?

  “I meant what I said earlier. I’m sorry about what happened with what’s-his-name. I should never have taken the bait. You dumped him and he saw you with me, so of course he was upset.” One hand now rested on her bare shin and the other cupped the heel of her foot, his finger lightly stroking the soft flesh of the arch. “Now tell me what he said to upset you.”

  He couldn’t seriously expect her to carry on a conversation like this. She’d never been so tense in her life. But short of removing her legs from his lap—which she was not inclined to do at the moment because it had been a while since she’d played with this kind of fire—what other choice did she have but to bite her lip, clench her thighs, and suffer the torture like any woman of free will was wont to do when an attractive man held her feet captive?

  You can at least talk a good game.

  “What do you think he said? He warned me about men like you.”

  Nate didn’t appear at all surprised by her answer. “And what kind of man is that?”

  “The kind who would use a girl like me,” she replied, remembering the sting of Aidan’s words.

  Other than the slight tightening of his jaw, Nate’s expression remained unchanged as his palm lightly cupped the ball of her foot. “And what kind of girl are you?”

  “I’m just a pretty face you’ll use and toss aside,” she stated blithely. As if the words hadn’t shaken her confidence and hurt her pride.

  Nate’s eyes flashed with anger. “Screw what I just said. I should have kicked his ass when I had the chance. I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone with him.”

  “No, I’m glad I talked to him. At least I know what he really thinks of me.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell him how race had factored into it, but she sensed he knew.