Simply Scandalous. Carly Phillips
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Catherine wondered just how many women this man charmed with his good looks alone. Enough to make him dangerous, she thought.
He wore an Italian-cut suit as if he were to the manor born, and when those eyes captured hers, they didn’t let go. Not even loud laughter from across the expanse of the outdoors caused his gaze to slide from hers.
She narrowed her eyes to gauge his preference but she wasn’t a bartender by trade. She was merely substituting for her absent employee. Glancing at this man, she couldn’t begin to guess his drink of choice. And though she could offer an interesting mix of cocktails, the general requests here had been for champagne or Mimosas and, somehow, she couldn’t see him as a delicate-drink kind of guy. “Why don’t you tell me what you had in mind?”
He leaned closer, elbows propped on the edge of the bar. His cologne smelled masculine and expensive, a sensual combination that reminded her of spice, temptation and trouble. “Something to cool me down and take the edge off the heat,” he said.
The clouds had darkened to a stormy gray and a heavy breeze had already begun blowing off the nearby ocean, cutting back on the mugginess and heat. Catherine recognized his words for the come-on they were. Though she wanted to be flattered, she couldn’t help but be disappointed as well.
“A splash of cold water would work just fine,” she muttered. His eyes darkened subtly and she was appalled to realize she’d spoken the words out loud.
He grinned. “I could think of plenty of things that would work better.”
He was too confident…too sexy. For all her bravado, Catherine wasn’t as secure in herself as she liked the world to believe. Life’s harsh realities had taught her not to trust in much—especially a tempting man who had charm and knew how to use it.
She glanced at him warily, deciding not to play. “Then how about a cold beer instead?”
His smile widened. “Now you’re talking.” He walked around the corner of the bar, seating himself on a stool—too close to Catherine’s small work space. The width of a bar top separated them, but it wasn’t much and certainly not enough. And with waitresses walking around passing out champagne off serving trays, the line for drinks had dwindled. She hadn’t had a stray passerby in at least half an hour. They were alone.
She reached for one of the eclectic brews handpicked by Judge Montgomery for the occasion and poured the man his drink. Placing the glass on a cocktail napkin, she slid the beer toward him.
“Join me?”
“I’m working,” she said, as she wiped down the already shiny Lucite bar with a damp rag.
“I’ll clear it with the management.”
“I’m the management and I don’t mix business and pleasure.” Especially not when the risk would be greater than the pleasure…and if her tingling nerves and rising anticipation were any indication, she could just imagine how great the pleasure would be.
“Miss…Scotch and soda, if I may interrupt.” The voice came from the opposite end of the bar.
Catherine grabbed on to the excuse and headed for the waiting guest. While she worked, she felt his heavy gaze burn right through her. Then, noticing a problem across the lawn, Catherine ran to avert disaster between her waitress and an intoxicated guest. She was used to the role of overseer and referee. But between the impending rain and the need for things to go well, this party had her completely stressed out.
To make matters worse, Judge Montgomery waylaid her on her way back to the bar. Though Emma led Catherine to believe she was in charge, her son left no doubt he was paying the bills. And he insisted that the waitresses needed to circulate more and that she shouldn’t be fraternizing with the guests. Catherine had to swallow her pride as well as her comeback.
She saw no point in informing the man who would pay for this event that his guest had come on to her. He wouldn’t believe her if she had. Instead she bowed, escaped and got hold of her assistant to warn her to have a quick talk with all the help. Then she ran toward the bar. One thing she knew, she’d be happy when this day was over.
When she returned, her visitor sat in his same spot, arms folded across his broad chest. “You need a break,” he informed her, a scowl on his face. Unfortunately it didn’t do a thing to detract from his good looks.
“A break doesn’t fit into my schedule.”
“You’ve had an overwhelming day.” He darted a glance to where she’d had her discussion with the host of the party. Emma might have employed her services, but Catherine had little doubt it was Judge Montgomery who held court over the world around him.
Her companion then patted a bar stool beside him. “Take a seat and pour your heart out,” he said. “I’m a good listener.” What looked like genuine concern etched his handsome features.
If she let him, he could seduce her with that concern. No doubt that was his goal, yet her body temperature inched higher despite his calculated manners. Or was it his warmth and seductive voice that heated her inside and out? “I think you have our roles reversed. I’m the bartender who’s supposed to have the friendly ear.”
He reached out, touching the silver earrings dangling from her ear. “But I’m not the one in need of a shoulder.”
It was eerie how well he read her, Catherine thought. His strong hand heated her skin. She was in danger of sensual overload. Catherine shut her eyes against the tremor of awareness shooting through her veins. He affected her on more than the physical plane and that made the dynamics between them even more explosive.
She paused a beat. “I appreciate the thought but I shouldn’t fraternize with the guests.”
“You’re doing a great job here. I wouldn’t let anything—or anyone—get to you,” he murmured.
Obviously he understood little about pleasing an employer and paying the bills.
“You’re too old not to realize we all answer to a higher authority,” she said wryly.
“But only when the authority is full of truth and honesty, not hot air,” he said and grinned.
Catherine laughed despite herself. Judge Montgomery had made his displeasure clear. Catherine not only wanted success today, but she also wanted referrals galore. That wouldn’t be happening if she spent the afternoon being verbally seduced by a sexy man way out of her league.
“I’m here to work,” she reminded him.
“You know this party’s a success. Ignore the man,” he suggested. “Why let him tell you what to do?”
“Because he signs my paycheck. Besides,” Catherine said, arching her eyebrow, “he told me to stay away from you. That’s got to be good advice.”
He shook his head. “Cynical is sad.”
He spoke as if he’d read behind the words to her philosophy on life, love and dating in the new millennium. “It’s honest. The only way I know how to be.”
Dark eyes met hers. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he murmured.
He spoke sexy words laced with innuendo, Catherine reminded herself. Nothing more. She tipped her head back to meet his gaze. His nearly black hair had been slicked off his forehead in the latest style. Money and class. He possessed them both.
Behind him milled beautifully dressed women, women immaculately and properly groomed for the world he inhabited. She wondered why this man had chosen to hang out at the bar with the help. He wouldn’t be interested in a woman way out of his social class with a shady family history.
She didn’t know what he wanted, but she suspected he found her an interesting diversion. The thought tapped into her deepest fear—that not only was she like her mother, but she’d end up like her as well. Her mother had overdressed, overdone and had always fallen short. Always just been a woman with two daughters and too many responsibilities. A woman alone.
Feeling