Wild Fantasy. Janelle Denison
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but the two of them were guides on various hiking and rock-climbing expeditions, white-water rafting trips, and other daredevil sporting events, as well.
“Yes, that’s all true.” Her chin lifted in a mutinous slant that matched the multifaceted spark brightening her eyes. “The business has been extremely profitable, not that my father has ever acknowledged my success.”
And for some reason, her father’s approval was obviously important to her, despite her attempt to pretend otherwise. The tinge of hurt in her voice was slight, but unmistakable, and was quickly concealed with an indifferent shrug of her smooth, tanned shoulder.
The woman apparently had a soft spot beneath that sassy, aggressive, sexy facade of hers. “Personally, you don’t seem the receptionist type to me, either.”
“Thank you.” She beamed as if he’d given her a compliment of the highest degree, and lifted her water glass for a quick drink. “You know me better than I originally gave you credit for.”
And damn if he didn’t want to get to know her a whole lot better.
Unexpectedly, she leaned toward him and slipped her palm over the back of the hand resting on the table between them. His pulse leapt, and her smooth fingertips, chilled from the water glass she’d just touched, made his skin sizzle.
Her lush mouth curved into a smile filled with wicked intent. “So, shall we stroll out of this stuffy country club hand in hand like lovers and let our mothers come to their own conclusions when they hear the gossip about us?” She waggled her perfectly arched brows in a dare. “Could be tons of fun.”
One thing was certain in Mitch’s mind. If he took Nicole up on her brazen challenge and they ditched this luncheon, he doubted anything that happened outside this restaurant would be feigned. The vibrant fire in her eyes told him the attraction was real. And while she might pretend not to care about their mothers’ speculation about them, he was willing to bet it was all an act. They both knew their parents would jump on the opportunity to encourage any interest between them, and he didn’t think she wanted that, either.
He switched the positions of their hands, trapping hers beneath the heat and weight of his palm. His thumb rubbed the sensitive flesh between her thumb and forefinger, and she sucked in an audible breath.
He blinked lazily. “You know, I do believe you could tempt a saint to sin, and if it wasn’t for both of our mothers heading this way at this very second, I’d call your bluff and see just how far you were willing to take this game of yours.”
At the mention of their mothers’ approach she subtly retrieved her hand so they weren’t caught in such a compromising position. She sighed, a gusty breath of sound that held the barest hint of regret. “I guess we’ll never find out just how far I was willing to take things, now will we?”
He stifled a grin and instead gave her a private wink designed to leave her a little unbalanced. “Not this time anyway.”
NICOLE STARED at her lunch menu but was unable to concentrate on the array of entrées offered. While her mother and Joyce Lassiter chattered on about the fabulous sale at Bloomingdales they’d hit that morning, which had made them late for their lunch date, Nicole’s mind spun with other, more distracting, matters—like the gorgeous, too-appealing man sitting beside her, their sexy banter, and her traitorous body’s reaction to him and his arousing touch.
She drew a deep, stabilizing breath, which did little to alleviate the flutters in her belly. Mitch Lassiter always did have a way of shaking up her normally unwavering composure and generating feelings of restlessness that no man had ever evoked. He possessed the ability to turn her on with a look, a charming smile or just by speaking in that deep, rich voice of his. Not that she’d ever let him in on that intimate secret.
Her personal life was exactly where she wanted it to be, free of the kind of restraints and emotional entanglements she’d struggled with for the better part of her childhood and adult years. The only frustrating thing she had to deal with was the way her parents constantly compared her to her younger brother. Robert, who was working toward becoming a successful orthopedic specialist, had recently married a sweet, traditional kind of girl, and had a baby on the way. Being the oldest, and their only daughter, Nicole’s parents had been pressuring her for years to settle down and get married. And if they’d had their choice, they would have picked her ex, Jonathan Gaines, to be her husband. An affluent councilman and socially connected, Jonathan was exactly the kind of man her parents would have adored for a son-in-law.
Unfortunately, Nicole’s opinion on the matter hadn’t mattered much. While her relationship with Jonathan had been more comfortable than exciting and she’d enjoyed his company and intellect, he, too, had harbored certain expectations of her…and she’d fallen short. Like everyone else in her family, he hadn’t approved of her business venture, or her ideals, and he resented the time she’d devoted to All Seasons Outdoor Adventures. While there had been some relief attached to their breakup, it had also served as a painful reminder of how men found her independence and ambition too intimidating.
And then there had been her parents’ astounded reaction over her split with Jonathan to contend with, especially her father’s disappointment. He’d held her responsible for driving away such a prominent, solid prospect in lieu of pursuing what he referred to as a man’s business. The entire incident had been yet another in a long string of disappointments for him.
But despite her past, and despite deeper, unsettled yearnings inside her now, she wasn’t about to give up her hard-won independence for anyone. Not even Mitch. Occasional playful flirtations she could handle and walk away from, and so long as she didn’t allow her encounters with Mitch to escalate beyond harmless, teasing fun, she’d be just fine.
With that lecture assuaging her mind, and feeling more in control of herself and her response to Mitch, she decided on a club sandwich and an iced tea, then placed her menu on the table to await their server. The four of them ordered their meals, and once the waiter moved on to a nearby table, Nicole picked up her linen napkin, spread it on her lap and regarded both of their mothers with extreme interest.
“So, what was so important that the four of us needed to have lunch together?” she asked.
The older women exchanged an excited look, then pinned their gazes on their respective children. Rhea was the first to speak. “We asked you two here today to ask for your help in aiding our charity work for Breast Cancer Awareness.”
Mitch immediately sat up straight in his chair. His dark brown eyes, the color of rich chocolate, glimmered with concern as his gaze honed in on his mother. “Is everything okay, Mom?”
Nicole waited for Joyce’s reply as well, knowing how crucial Mitch’s question actually was. Seven years ago Mitch’s mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer. While she’d recovered and had been in remission for years, there was always the chance of a reoccurrence. Nicole knew this all too well, since her mother’s sister, Andrea, had passed away from the disease. Her mother and Joyce had met at an emotional-support group and had been best friends ever since. In their spare time, which they both had a surplus of, they raised money and awareness for their favorite charity.
“I’m perfectly fine, Mitch.” A bright smile reassured both of them of her exemplary health, and Mitch’s relief was nearly palpable. “This request isn’t for me specifically, but for the organization as a whole.”
As the waiter delivered their drinks, Mitch sat back in his chair. The knit collared shirt he wore molded to his well-defined chest and toned biceps, and the bronze hue brought out flecks of gold in his dark irises. “You know I’ll do anything I can to support your charities.”
Joyce’s face softened with maternal affection. For a woman in her late fifties and having endured many hardships, including the loss of her husband, she still looked beautiful and vibrant. “I knew I could count on you, honey,” she said, patting her son’s hand.
“You know I’ll do the same, Mom.” Nicole squeezed her wedge of lemon into her iced tea and stirred the liquid with her straw. “What do you need? A donation