chapter 4
Dylan watched her eyes widen. Her face reflected a dozen emotions as she sought to process and organize, probably already planning two forms of attack.
The woman never surrendered easily.
“Let’s recap. I’m trapped here alone with you overnight in a spook house. Why are you here anyway? You’re supposed to be in some trendy Manhattan condo making your billions.”
He smothered a laugh. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought. If I give you a tour you’d see the benefits of living here. I have privacy, beautiful scenery, and complete access to the park whenever I’d like. I can also commute easily into the city.”
She rose from the sofa and swiped her hands over her black knit pants. The fabric fit snugly over the line of her thigh and curve of her rear. A cheerful red sweater emphasized the same impressive cleavage she had back in college. Dylan used to wonder how her breasts would fit in his hands, then be so freaked by the thought he’d go get drunk. Sequined black fur boots encased her feet. She looked like a sleek snow bunny who needed a tumble. He always wondered if Riley Fox lost all that well-earned control in bed.
An interesting idea to toy with.
She straightened up and propped her hands on her hips. “I have a better idea. You show me where a spare room is, and I’ll see you in the morning. Haven’t gone to bed early in a while. Extra sleep will be good for me.”
His lips twitched. “Sorry, you may have a concussion and I’m not taking any chances. You stay with me.”
She waved a manicured hand in the air. “No worries, I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”
“I don’t care. You’re still not leaving my sight.”
“You’re kidnapping me?” she demanded.
Dylan arched a brow. “Dramatic, much?”
She let out an annoyed breath. He was positive not many people argued with her, or even managed to change her direction. She was bullheaded and determined to do things her way. A spark of challenge lit within. She’d never be an easy woman to live with, but she’d never be boring. “Fine. But I’m drinking. Please tell me you have wine somewhere.”
“I happen to have an excellent wine cellar. White or red?”
“Red, please.”
He walked over to the elaborate scrolled-iron wine rack climbing up the corner. He usually took a few bottles out to be handy, so he grabbed a nice French vintage and popped the cork. “Now that we have the whole night, why don’t you tell me about this date of yours?”
He felt rather than saw her tense. Hmm. What was she hiding? And why was she on his mountain in a blizzard? Dylan poured two glasses and walked over. Their fingers brushed when she took her glass, and once again, the current of electricity tingled. Her hand jerked a bit but she managed to speak coolly.
“Nothing to tell. We got our signals crossed.”
“First date?” he asked.
She hesitated, then shook her head. “No, we’ve been out a few times. He’s quite charming.”
She stuck her nose in the glass to breathe in the aroma, then slowly took a sip. He enjoyed the way her lips curved in pleasure, and her eyes half closed. The unexpected sensuality of her reaction made his gut clench and his dick stir. He remembered those moments in college. Living in the dormitory, sometimes she’d come strolling out in the common area with her hair up in a messy ponytail, faded T-shirt, and flannel pants. Face scrubbed free of makeup. She’d sit cross-legged on the rug, joining in the conversation. Dylan was fascinated with her natural beauty, open laugh, and quick wit. She’d meet his gaze with her usual cheekiness, but something else stirred beneath the surface. Most of the time she was removed from the crowd, set apart by her own personal drive for success. But that night he remembered she told dirty jokes, drank a few beers, and relaxed. He was fascinated by the different sides to her personality, and longed for more. But the next time he saw her, she was back to her usual conservative demeanor, refusing to acknowledge they actually had fun the night before. She drove him nuts.
Dylan pushed the memory away. “What’s charming’s name?”
“Ryan.”
Warning bells clanged. Ryan? The enormity of the situation overtook him as he finally processed the truth. Kate had told him she wouldn’t provide a last name for his blind date. He never would’ve agreed to such an insane proposal, but he’d been a client of Kinnections for a long time and Kate had earned his trust. Her ridiculous spouting of being open to the impossible by not letting himself prepare or make assumptions before meeting this mystery woman seemed like a bunch of female fantasies he didn’t believe in.
He sifted through his conversation with Kate. His mystery woman would meet him at 7 p.m. at the gate of Rinker’s Park. Tall, with long dark hair. That was all he got.
Holy shit.
Riley Fox was his blind date.
“Why are you looking at me funny?” she asked.
The truth almost made him laugh out loud. Oh, this was too much fun. And one thing he remembered well was Riley’s inability to lie. Fortunately for him, he was great at it. Dylan frowned and cocked his head. “How odd. I know a Ryan who’s quite familiar with the rink. What’s his last name?”
She averted her gaze. “Ugh, I forgot. I’m sure you don’t know him.”
“I think I do. What does he look like?”
She scrunched up her face in her usual revealing way, as if trying desperately to come up with a plausible story. “Brown hair. Blue eyes. Very handsome.” She turned her back on him and pretended to inspect the various trinkets by the fireplace.
“Interesting. And you’ve been seeing him for how long?”
“A few dates.”
“What does he do?”
“Do?” She gulped a few more sips of wine. “He’s a teacher.”
“Sounds like a great guy. What does he teach?”
“Why are you so interested?” A touch of annoyance threaded through her voice.
Dylan tried to keep the glee from showing on his face. “Just am. What does he teach?”
“History.”
“Nice. Where’d you guys meet?” Oh yeah, she was stumped on that one. She glared back at him, obviously searching for an answer. “Don’t you remember?”
“Of course I remember! A—a café. We both ordered the same coffee.”
“Very romantic.” He pressed his lips together. “Must not be the same Ryan.”
“I told you.”
“See, the Ryan I know signed up for his date at Kinnections. But obviously you didn’t meet him at a matchmaking agency.”
Score.
Her mouth dropped open. She sucked in a breath and stared at him in stunned silence. “Did you say Kinnections?”
“Yep. You know them?”
Her mouth closed with a snap. Suspicion carved out the lines of her face. “Wait a minute. How do you know about Kinnections?”
Dylan rocked back on his heels and grinned. “Because I’m your date.”
She blinked. Spent a few moments analyzing the situation in the clinical way that had made her business such a success. “Impossible,” she declared. “My date’s name is Ryan.”
“I know. My full name is Ryan Dylan McCray. Have you forgotten I go by my middle name? I was supposed to meet a woman with long dark hair at the park gate at exactly 7 p.m. Sound familiar?”
Her brows knitted together and her breath accelerated. “N-no. You can’t be my date. You’d never belong to a matchmaking agency!”
Dylan shrugged. “Why not? You are. Though you’d deny it to the end. You’ve always been a terrible liar.”
Her cheeks tinged with temper. Excitement heated his veins and roared in his blood. What was it about this woman that made arguing so much damn fun? It was better than going to the gym or closing a big deal. “Because it was none of your business!” She moaned and paced the floor. “This is terrible. A nightmare. I trusted Kate to find me my husband, not some man candy to fool around with.”
He laughed with delight. “I’m man candy, huh? Guess I’ll take it as a compliment.”