Moonstruck

“I like you,” the older man had said. “But you have proven yourself only in one city. How do I know you have the spark to make this work?”

“I do,” Ty had said. “Tell me how to convince you, and I’ll do it.”

“I have two properties,” Murtaugh had said. And then he’d smiled and told Ty exactly what he wanted. Simple enough. Ty had eight months to whip one of Murtaugh’s nightclubs, Decadent, into shape. Work with the staff. Consult. Do whatever magic needed to be done. And at the same time, Ty was supposed to bring to life a currently boarded-up establishment that Murtaugh was considering selling. A butt-ugly property that hadn’t ever turned a profit. He and Murtaugh had agreed to a fifty-fifty split, and the property would launch as an offshoot of Heaven, Ty’s very first and most popular California nightclub.

Assuming both properties got off the ground and were in the black within Murtaugh’s rather insane time frame, Murtaugh promised he’d bankroll Ty’s expansion.

It was, Ty thought, too good to be true.

And as soon as Murtaugh had told him the location of the properties, Ty saw the big old trick the universe was playing on him.

Accomplish his biggest dream—become the Wolfgang Puck or Gordan Ramsey of the club scene—but walk through hell first to do it.

Of course he’d said yes.

He’d been in Dallas for about six months now, and had two left on his sentence. And he couldn’t wait to get the hell out of this damned town.

He forced the thoughts out of his head. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. He was there now, in the club, and for at least a few minutes, the woman in his arms was making the fact that he was stuck there significantly more pleasant.

From the moment he’d first seen her, he’d planned to go over and talk to her. Take her back to the VIP section of the club. Buy her a drink. Ask her to dance.

Never once had he imagined that she’d throw herself into his arms and kiss him like she meant it. Like she wanted it.

She moaned a little, her soft body pressing close to his. He could taste the champagne on her lips, and he’d watched her down at least a couple of flutes full as she’d scoured the place, searching for someone. A someone not him, though he had to admit that the idiot’s loss was most definitely his gain.

He felt hot, needy and he wanted to touch her. Not simply the way he was touching her now, but all of her. He wanted to feel her skin beneath his fingers, slide his palms over her bare breasts. Close his mouth over her nipples and feel them harden as his tongue licked and stroked.

He wanted, and if there was one thing Ty usually made sure of, it was that he got what he wanted.

At the moment, frankly, he wanted his private office. Unfortunately, he’d never set up an office at Decadent since his role here was that of consultant. Instead, he’d rented a small office in the Wardman Towers downtown, and downtown was much too far away for his current purposes.

But, damn, he wished it weren’t. Because no matter who’d been on her mind when she’d first stepped into Decadent, right now, the woman in his arms was all about him. Or she was until—

“Claire?”

The male voice came from his left, and the woman in Ty’s arms, aka Claire, pulled gently away, her eyes wide, her expression wary.

“Oh. Joe. What a surprise seeing you here.”

Of course it wasn’t a surprise, as Ty could easily see.

“I saw you across the room. Thought I should come over and say hi.”

“Right.” Claire’s smile was of the overly polite variety. “That’s great.” Her hands fluttered, as if she wasn’t entirely sure what to do with them. “Happy New Year.”

“You, too.” He turned to Ty, his hand held out in greeting. “Ty Coleman, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Joe Powell,” he said, holding out his hand. “Power Publicity.”

Ty shook the man’s hand, flipping through the Rolodex of names he kept in his mind. He’d learned a long time ago that he couldn’t rely on jotted notes, and he’d trained himself to remember names and faces. This name, he recognized. Joe Powell had the reputation of being one of the most up-and-coming PR men in Texas, and he was on Ty’s mental list of people he wanted his assistant to call to schedule a meeting. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to have to bother Lucy with that now—unless he missed his guess, Joe Powell hadn’t come over to see Claire, but to introduce himself to Ty.

“Listen,” Joe said, “I’m not the type who plays coy, and the truth is, I came here tonight hoping to meet you.”

Bingo, Ty thought, then noted Claire’s confused expression. Joe might know who he was, but Claire was clueless. The realization surprised and pleased him, because he couldn’t even remember the last time that a woman had been attracted solely to him, and not to the trappings that made up Ty Coleman.

Joe grinned at Claire. “I suppose I could have asked you to introduce us,” he said. “I didn’t realize you knew Mr. Coleman…”

“Yes, well.” Her brow creased, as if she was debating what to say next.

Ty had no idea what made him do it, but he took her hand and pressed a soft kiss to her palm. “Our relationship’s been a little whirlwind.”

Claire opened her mouth, but didn’t say anything, and Ty could practically see the debate raging across her face. Should she mention the fact that they had no relationship, or just go with the flow?

Ty was beginning to think she was about to set the record straight, when a lanky redhead with nail-point heels and a smile as big as Texas stepped forward and took Joe’s hand. “I know all about whirlwind,” Joe said. “This is Bonita,” he said, as Claire’s eyes went wide.

The girl’s smile grew brighter. “I’m Joe’s girlfriend.”

CLAIRE’S HEAD WAS SPINNING, and she was certain it wasn’t just from the champagne. For one thing, why did Joe know who Mr. Texas Royalty was? Ty Coleman. She stifled a small frown, because the name really did sound familiar, but with her fuzzy head, she couldn’t latch on to why.

And what the devil was Joe doing with a girlfriend? Was this the same Joe who had, only a few days before Christmas, made a huge pass at her?

Then again, it had been Bonita who’d used the G-word, not Joe, so maybe the girl was posturing?

Claire considered that, then firmly shoved the thought out of her mind. Honestly, what did it matter if Bonita was his girlfriend or his fiancée or even his mail-order bride? Right then, she simply wanted both of them to leave. She didn’t know why Ty was of any interest to Joe, but she did know that he was of serious interest to her. And she wanted him all to herself again.

Apparently, there was power in positive thinking, because Joe took a step backward, as if he was about to leave. Claire did a little mental happy dance, then stumbled when Bonita caught his arm. “You should invite them, sugar.”

“Honey, I’m sure now’s not the time,” he said, although Claire knew him well enough to know that Joe never missed an opportunity to schmooze a potential client, and for a moment, she wondered if he and Bonita had scripted the invitation—whatever it was for.

“I’ll have my office call and arrange a meeting with Mr. Coleman next week,” Joe went on. “Would that be okay?” he asked Ty. “I’d love to talk to you about publicity for the grand opening of Heaven. I know you’ve been using someone else for this place, but I really think that Power Publicity has the contacts and the know-how to help Heaven make a huge splash. And now that you’re a month away from opening, it’s time for us to take a hard look at your PR plan. My goal for you would be to have Heaven, Dallas, open even bigger, stronger and flashier than any of your California clubs.”

It was, Claire thought, a total V-8 moment. “You’re Ty Coleman,” she blurted, which she wouldn’t have done without the champagne. “Of course!”

“You didn’t—” Joe began.

“Private joke,” Ty said. “When we first met, she didn’t realize who I was.”

“Awww,” Bonita said, apparently charmed.

“Give my office a call,” Ty said to Joe. “Tell my assistant I said to set up thirty minutes. If I like what I hear, we’ll go from there.”

“Sounds great,” Joe said, looking like a man who’d just won the lottery. “Looking forward to it.”

“Why don’t you invite them to the party?” Bonita said.

Joe’s gaze darted to Claire. “Oh, I don’t know—”

“Why on earth not? I know Daddy would love to meet Mr. Coleman, and you two would have the chance to get to know each other without all that business stuff. Besides,” she said, with a bright smile toward Claire, “it’ll be nice having someone else around who’s not in PR. You’re not, are you?”

“Appellate law,” Claire said. “Who’s your father?” she asked, though she had a feeling she already knew.