Valentine Fantasy

She sat in the chair beside Jen’s desk, leaned back and closed her eyes. The day had only begun, and already she was exhausted. What sleep she managed to get the night before had been restless at best. She blamed Jordan. Jordan and his blatant, audacious promise of the stars.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jen asked over the steady tap of the keyboard.

Cait opened her eyes and looked at her friend. “Chocolate is what’s wrong.”

Jen laughed and turned to face her. “You have an overdose or something?”

Oh, she’d had an overdose all right, an overdose of sexual attraction that had taken her completely by surprise. “You could say that,” she murmured, recalling the heat that had ignited her body and the flash of hunger that had leaped through her like a flame.

She might only be twenty-six years old, but she’d experienced sexual attraction a time or two in her life. There might not be a little black book with evidence of her experience lurking in her past, but she was a far cry from the blushing virgin. Never had anyone made her insides feel so tight and jittery the way Jordan had with one heated look, a whispered word filled with sensual promise, or the chaste brush of his lips against her cheek. She was definitely playing with fire.

“So what’s with the chocolate?” Jen asked, bringing her back to the present.

“It was a gift.” At her friend’s raised eyebrow, she added, “From my valentine.”

“Ooh.” Jen pushed aside the papers cluttering her desk and braced her elbows on it. Leaning forward, her eyes bright with curiosity, she asked, “The fantasy guy?”

Cait propped her elbow on the desk and rested her temple against her fisted hand. “You won’t believe what I did last night,” she said, unable to keep the smile from her lips. As she described it, she could hardly believe what she’d done to him last night. She explained how her valentine had taken control of the situation, the seducee becoming the seducer. It stung to admit she’d been brilliantly trapped by her own brazen plan. Her intent had been to garner information, which she’d managed to obtain, and at least she’d learned the identity of the agency’s owner. Her investigating had stalled at the point that Jordan had managed to completely enrapture her with his special brand of sensuality.

“I told you this was dangerous,” Jen said in her best I-told-you-so voice. “You have to put a stop to this. Demand a refund or something.”

Cait sat up straight and looked at her friend. “I can’t.” And she wouldn’t. The story was there, she was sure of it. She wasn’t about to stop now, not when she’d had a taste of real investigative journalism. And it had absolutely nothing to do with Jordan’s velvet-soft voice and his galactic promise.

The phone on Jen’s desk rang, but she ignored it. “Sure you can,” she said. “Just tell him something came up, an old friend or a relative from out of town. Something. Tell him you’re going to your parents’ party with the make-believe relative and forget about this insanity.”

Cait shook her head. “No way. I found out last night that the agency’s been in business for a while. I need to find out how many other women they’ve seduced out of their money in exchange for sex.”

Jen leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. The look she gave Cait was filled with skepticism. “And just how do you plan on doing this?”

Cait pushed out of the chair and stood. She had an appointment in two hours with a representative from the new animal shelter being funded and operated by the elite San Francisco Kennel Club and she still needed to prepare her questions and talk to the photographer scheduled to accompany her. “The wheels are already in motion. I’m just going along for the ride.”

Jen frowned, but the concern in her eyes warmed Cait’s heart. It was just like Jen to worry.

“You be careful, kiddo.”

Cait slung her bag over her arm. “I will. I promise.”

She turned to leave but Jen stopped her. “What do you plan on doing next?”

Cait let out a long sigh. “Well, he promised me the stars tonight. I guess I’d better pick up my space suit from the cleaners.”

3

HER SPACE SUIT consisted of an electric-blue silk dress more reminiscent of a chemise than outerwear, matching three-inch heels, a delicate gold ankle bracelet and a few strategically placed dabs of her most expensive perfume, a gift from her brother for her last birthday. If Jordan planned to take her to the stars, then Cait had every intention of letting him know she was ready for takeoff.

She applied a light dusting of blush to her cheeks, then finished by thickening her lashes. She blew her hair dry to soften the curls into the more stylish cut fashioned by the wizards at Ardell’s, a far cry from her usual easy-maintenance, wash-and-wear style. She completed her ready-for-sin ensemble by adding thin gold hoops to her lobes.

Examining her appearance critically, she smiled at her reflection, confident her valentine would take one look at her and forget about the dust-covered sweats she’d worn the night before. She looked seductive and sexy, and if Jordan McBride couldn’t read the signs that said, “I’m ready for a night of passion,” then the man was either blind or stupid.

The chimes at the front door signaled his arrival. With one last look, she fluffed her bangs and hurried down the stairs. She smoothed her dress, and tossed her head and shoulders back in an effort to convey a confidence she wasn’t quite feeling. Truth be told, her insides were quaking like the California coastline.

She took a deep breath, then slowly opened the door. Resting her hand on the doorjamb above her head, she struck what she hoped was a seductive pose.

“Good evening,” she practically purred, waiting for him to turn around to face her. When he did, she smiled, slowly running her gaze up and down his body, praying she gave the impression she was undressing him with her eyes.

Her confidence wavered. For a night of passion, the man had certainly dressed casually. Crisp jeans clung to his lean hips and muscular thighs, while a basic black polo shirt heightened the swirling colors in his pale hazel eyes. The leather jacket she’d admired the previous evening completed his appearance of heading out for a 49ers game.

He raked a shock of sable hair out of his eyes, eyes that held more than an appreciative glint. “You look fabulous,” he said in that deep voice that sent a shiver of delight up her spine.

“You look…comfortable.” She pushed the door open wide. “Come in.”

He grinned, just a slight curving of the lips, but as his eyes swept over her again, her confidence grew at the pleasure in his gaze.

“I thought you might like to go for a walk.”

She frowned. “A walk?” She was prepared for him to think she was ready for a night of heavy breathing, and the man wanted to take a walk? In these heels? Was he nuts? She’d have a blister before they reached the end of the sloped driveway.

He nodded, his grin never faltering. In fact, she thought he looked rather…amused. Not exactly the reaction she’d hoped for. She wanted him thinking of increased heart rates due to deep kisses and tangled limbs, not due to an aerobic workout.

He stepped into the foyer. “Along the wharf,” he added, closing the door.

She dropped her hands to her sides. “The wharf? You said something about the stars.”

His grin widened, but at least he didn’t laugh at her. “I meant a moonlit stroll. What’d you think I meant?”

Oh yeah. That was definitely amusement in his gaze. Her body heated from an embarrassment that had nothing to do with him devouring her with his eyes, but from making a fool of herself. He literally meant the stars, as in astronomy, the galaxy, or the Milky Way, not the culmination of an incredible orgasm.

She blew out a breath harsh enough to ruffle her bangs. “Never mind,” she muttered as she headed up the stairs to change into something more appropriate for gazing at stars rather than into each other’s eyes.

TWO HOURS LATER, Jordan was in no hurry to bring their evening to an end, so he suggested they grab a bite to eat at one of the more casual seafood restaurants along Fisherman’s Wharf. The hostess led them to a table overlooking the ocean, rambled off the dinner specials, then left them to study the menus.

He scanned the list of items, but his mind continued to drift to the first woman in a very long time who’d managed to intrigue him to the point of distraction. He was by no means a monk, but right now, he had difficulty recalling his last serious relationship with a woman. He knew he’d become a workaholic the past few years, and because of his professional ambitions, he’d never taken the time necessary to cultivate a lasting relationship. Most of his contact with the opposite sex had stemmed from one of a multitude of professional acquaintances, but none of the women he’d dated were “the one.”

Cait was different. She intrigued him, and he wanted to learn more about her. He found no other plausible explanation for his wanting to extend their evening together.

He glanced in her direction and watched as she surveyed the menu. She nibbled on her bottom lip as she attempted to decide on her meal. Looking up at him, she smiled, then returned her attention to the menu. A slight blush covered her cheeks. She was a contradiction in a variety of ways. Shy, yet temptingly seductive. He didn’t think he’d ever know her completely, but he decided that he’d sure like to try once he completed his contractual obligation for Fantasy for Hire.

Tonight he’d seen nary a glimpse of a bored socialite, and he found himself enjoying the company of a fun, carefree woman who grasped life with both hands and enjoyed every moment to the fullest. She’d laughed at the antics of a street mime who’d chosen her as a target for his comedy routine, tossed raw fish off the wharf to the baby sea lions playing on the rocks below, and told him that although she’d lived in San Francisco her entire life, she’d never visited Alcatraz because she couldn’t bear the thought of anyone being stripped of their freedom. When they strolled past a New Age shop, she’d explained the various crystals and the power she believed they held, then balked at the overpriced gifts in the window display of a collectibles shop. She was intelligent and witty, but it was not the biting sarcastic wit of someone raised among the privileged, with no conscience about the feelings of others.

Cait cared, a quality he found endearing.

She made him laugh. Something not many were able to achieve.

She was sinfully sexy.

And he wanted her.

“Ready to order?” he asked, closing his menu.