Ms. Match. Jo Leigh
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ruling a kingdom. He suspected she was holding out for the latter. She’d told him several times that she was going to be switching routes to the Middle East instead of Europe and that could only mean she was going for the top prize. Some potentate with hot and cold running billions.
“Paul.” She said the word in that big-screen way. Soft, yet it carried to the cheap seats.
He leaned over and kissed her cheek before she sat. The smell of her was enough to end all critical thought. Damn.
She immediately ordered a special Nobu martini, and he ordered another of his. The second they were alone, she gave him a look that alerted all his testosterone to be at the ready. “Rumor has it, you and Gwen had quite a night.”
“Are you still on that? I told you. We danced. It was fun. I was glad to do it.”
“According to Faith, you weren’t doing me any favors.”
“What?”
“She said when you two got to the slow dances, a breeze couldn’t have gotten between you.”
“Gwen’s a good dancer.”
Autumn stared at him for a long moment, then burst into bright laughter. “Oh, my God. Your face! As if you and Gwen…” She laughed some more, garnering as much attention as she could without going a millimeter overboard. “She must have died when she saw you at her door. Oh, I wish I could have seen it.”
“It wasn’t all that funny.”
“Come on, Paul. I know my sister. It must have been something.” A delicate sniffle and a touch of her napkin at the outer corner of her eye, and then she looked at him once more. “I appreciate what you did. It had to have been awful for you. Faith said you acted like a real gentleman the whole night. She could barely believe you didn’t sneak out at the first opportunity.”
Paul picked up his menu, bothered more than he should have been at the way Autumn spoke about Gwen. Best to leave it alone. Autumn’s relationship, if he could call it that, to her sister wasn’t his business. But jeez. “I’m glad I could help. Did you want to start with appetizers?”
The moment Autumn picked up her menu he shifted gears. It wasn’t wise to think about Gwen now. He wanted to get through dinner and get to the good part with Autumn. He’d bought new condoms for the occasion.
He watched her, amazed as always at her sheer beauty. She had a quality about her that was the essence of what he’d been thinking about before. Charisma, magic, that something extraordinary that made strangers ask for her autograph. He’d seen it happen often. Even after she explained she wasn’t anyone noteworthy, they wanted her to sign the paper, the menu, their hand. She always did, too, as if it was the most natural request in the world.
Autumn lived out loud. She shimmered in the light. There was no way to ignore her.
Gwen kept her light inside. Private.
He couldn’t imagine that the two of them were related. Maybe their mother had had that affair with the postman after all.
“I’ll have the lobster ceviche and after that I’d like the toro tartar when he gets his main dish.”
He hadn’t realized the waiter was there until Autumn ordered so he made a quick decision and that was that. Their drinks arrived a moment later and Autumn changed the subject to her adventures in Rome.
He listened, enchanted as always. She didn’t require much from her audience so he didn’t worry overmuch when his thoughts wandered to what the night promised. They’d go back to his place. His maid had been there that afternoon, so everything was just right. He had champagne in the fridge and some very expensive beluga.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Hmm? Oh. You. Of course. Only you.”
GWEN POURED THE POPCORN from the popper and spread it on a cookie sheet. She got out the butter-flavored cooking spray and spritzed the whole pan, then covered the corn with her signature chili, lime and salt mix.
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