2
ONCE THE WORDS popped out, Mallory wished for nothing more than to pull them back. How had she found the nerve to suggest that she and Cliff have an affair—together! She opened her mouth to deny she’d made the suggestion, but it was too late.
“You mean, you—and me?” he asked.
His words took a bite out of her ego. “You don’t have to sound so astonished. I mean, some people consider me—”
He waved her to silence. “Yes, of course. But I never thought about you and me, uh, like that.”
“If you’re not interested, we could go back to considering your plan.”
“No! I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to. I’m just kind of surprised you suggested it.”
She leaned forward, pushing her plate to one side. “Look, Cliff, we know each other reasonably well.”
“Yes, I guess we do.”
“And what we know, we like.”
“Uh-huh.” His face adopted a definite wary look.
“Neither of us wants ties or commitments right now—we can’t afford them if we’re going to build our careers.”
He nodded with certainty. “That’s for sure.”
“And both of us are prime targets for people who want to latch on to our success. At least, I know I am, and I’d be willing to bet you are too. Right?” She waited for him to challenge her assumption.
“Yes,” he admitted. “Suzanne constantly asked me how much I made, and if I represent any of the Hollywood types that hang around in La Jolla.”
Mallory allowed herself just a trace of satisfaction. “That’s what I thought. The point is, we both know we’re safe from that kind of thing with each other. I don’t need you to advance my career, and you don’t need me.”
“That’s true, too.”
His hand captured hers and a trickle of heat warmed her skin. Startled, she pulled her hand away. This was no time for distractions.
“The key thing is that you want a partner to enjoy an occasional evening with—without having to worry that she’s going to cling and demand too much of your attention. I want the same thing.” She shrugged and smiled. “Sounds to me like we’re made for each other.”
He drummed his fingers against the table. “You’ve got a point. Maybe we are.”
“Best of all, we live next door to each other. We don’t even have to bother with the usual dating stuff. When we want to get together, all we have to do is go next door.”
“Another excellent point.”
Was she making sense? She thought so, but couldn’t be sure. Still, there was one last thing she had to be clear about....
“I just had my physical last month.” She didn’t let the blush searing her neck interfere with her blunt announcement “I’m, uh, perfectly healthy.”
To her relief, he took no offense. “Me, too. Mine was just a couple of weeks ago. And I’m very careful about sex. I always have been.” A boyish grin lightened his serious expression. “Wanna swap medical histories?”
His humor eased her embarrassment. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I trust you.”
He clasped her hand again and this time she didn’t pull away. “That’s what we’re really talking about here, isn’t it? Trusting each other not to make demands neither of us is capable of meeting?”
“Uh-huh.” She rotated her palm so her fingers interlaced with his. “Trust. Respect for each other’s career. And a little old-fashioned sex.”
“Not too old-fashioned, I hope!” His boyish grin was back and she smiled in response.
Still, as they raised their glasses in a mutual toast to their pact, for some odd reason she felt a stab of concern as she looked into his eyes.
What had she done?
She put down her glass and gathered her courage to keep her voice calm and level. “So we’re in agreement?”
“Yes.” His smile was half predatory and half reassuring—and totally seductive. “We’re going to have an affair that’s guaranteed not to interfere with our careers. None of this love-and-happily-ever-after business. Just two people out to have a good time together with no strings.”
“Right.” Why did it sound so cold when he summed it up that way? She certainly hadn’t felt cold when she’d proposed it.
“One thing, Mallory.”
“What’s that?”
The dark, seductive tone had left his voice, making it deep and utterly serious. “If you want out of our agreement at any time, just say so. You don’t even have to give me a reason. Just tell me it’s over and that will end it.”
The gray of his eyes sharpened to silver. It was obvious that this stipulation was very important to him. She didn’t know if he’d been burned with other girlfriends who’d clung too long or if something else triggered it. Either way, he wanted a way out of the relationship.
An escape route.
She didn’t want to agree to his implied request for the same assurance. For some reason she couldn’t quite define, the thought of articulating the easy-out nature of their agreement made her shift uneasily. It made everything seem so...sordid. Her throat closed, and she swallowed hard to clear it. His gaze held hers with its utter sincerity. He didn’t look as if he thought she’d proposed anything unsavory.
Her agreement popped out before she could stop it. “That’s fine. And the same for you. If you want to leave anytime—” her voice caught and she had to swallow hard to continue “—just tell me. No problem.”
What have I done? What have I done?
He visibly relaxed. “Good. Then I guess we really do have an agreement.”
“Should we put it in writing?” she asked, trying to keep the cynical note out of her voice. “After all, you being an attorney and all...”
He cocked his head and tapped his cheek with one finger. “No,” he said slowly. “We’re not contemplating any commingling of funds or assets, so I don’t think it’s necessary.”
He’d actually considered it! How could he!
She almost stabbed him with her fork before she saw a suspicious twinkle in his eye. “You’re teasing me, you rat.”
Suddenly, she felt a lot better about their new arrangement. His humor reminded her that she could have fun with Cliff—and fun was something her life sorely lacked. Fun, sex, companionship—what more did she need?
Nothing, she told herself firmly. I don’t have time for more.
“I was just kidding you a little bit.” He tipped up her chin and gave a wicked grin. “Couldn’t you tell?”
“I can now. And I warn you. You won’t catch me off guard so easily again.”
“No? You sure of that?” His eyes teased her unmercifully.
“I’m sure,” she promised. “But you might want to watch out yourself.”
While their banter continued, Mallory realized she was genuinely enjoying herself, more than she could remember doing for years. His teasing-flirting-enticing manner reminded her of exactly why she’d conceived of their plan in the first place.
Surprisingly, she couldn’t wait to find out if the other benefits of their arrangement would be equally enjoyable.
She put her napkin beside her plate and shoved her chair back from the table. Now, with excitement fizzing in her veins like the bubbles in her champagne, she could hardly wait to get him to herself. “Why don’t we leave now? We can go home and...”
But nothing would let her finish that thought with his eyes on her. Eyes that held an unmistakably salacious gleam.
“Good idea,” he drawled. “By all means, let’s go home and...”
YET, DESPITE her earlier eagerness, when they walked out of the restaurant, Mallory’s doubts resurfaced. She would never have believed a five-minute car ride could generate so much tension. Neither she nor Cliff said a word as he expertly backed his gold Lexus sedan out of its parking space, turned onto the street, then almost immediately turned into the condominium parking lot.
During that brief time she envisioned a hundred ways to handle the situation.
My bed or yours? No. Too blunt.
In the mood for a little whoopee? Too dated.
Cliff, you’re very sexy. How about coming over to my place and I’ll show you how much? Too overt.
Wanna get naked? Too raw.
Dozens more comments flitted through her mind, but none appropriate for a woman who had just asked a man to have a sex-only, no-strings affair. Nothing in her life had prepared her for a situation quite like this.
With a start she realized that Cliff had pulled the car into his garage and turned off the engine.
“Having second thoughts?”
She shivered. She’d known the man for three years, so how come his voice suddenly sent goose bumps up and down her spine? From somewhere deep inside her, she dredged up enough courage to meet his eyes. “No. No second thoughts.”
Liar!
No, I’m not, she assured her screaming conscience. I’m having twelfth or thirteenth thoughts. My second thoughts came and went minutes ago.
“I’m glad.” His hand touched hers for a moment, then he opened the car door and got out Too soon, he walked around the front of the car and opened her door.
Silently she accompanied him to the front door of his town house. It looked like a mirror image of her own. Get a grip, kiddo. You wanted exactly this. So why are you so nervous?
Because it’s different! She wanted to scream the words. She wanted to make a run for the sanctuary of her home. She wanted to forget she’d ever mentioned such a stupid idea. She wanted to lean against Cliff and have him tell her everything would be all right.
She wanted...
The door stood open, and he stood aside, waiting for her to enter. “Do you want to come in now?”
Was that break in his voice from nerves too?
For the first time since they’d left the restaurant, she took a good look at him. His hair, a deep glowing auburn in the sunlight, had an unusual disheveled look. A fine quiver tickled one cheek and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed deeply. No question about it, he was as nervous as she!
The realization calmed her, and she tried to reassure him with her best smile. “Sure.”
He ushered her into the living room that bore a surreal, reversed resemblance to hers. But while her unit’s decor featured elegant eighteenth-century cherry furniture, Cliff’s had modem brass and glass mixed with two huge burgundy-leather sofas and modem art prints on the bleached-oak paneled walls.
“A glass of wine?” His voice had a slight catch that betrayed his nervousness.
She took a deep breath and walked close to him, breathing in the spicy aroma of man and aftershave. “Don’t bother, Cliff. This isn’t about seduction, you know.”
“It’s not?” He had to swallow before the words came out. She noticed, however, that his hands had come to rest on her hips.
“No.” She raised her hands to unbutton his designer knit shirt. “It’s about each of us getting what we want from the other.”
His hands moved restlessly over her tailored slacks. “And what is it you want from me?”
Any trace of nervousness had utterly vanished from his voice, leaving a dark seduction that rippled through her. It set her heart thumping and froze her hands at their task. She breathed deeply and her head swam from the rich luxury of his scent. Her hands went to work, tunneling under his shirt to the warm muscles of his back.
“I just want you,” she told him. And she did. She wanted his charm. She wanted his teasing. She wanted his humor. She wanted his companionship.
Most of all, right now she wanted his lean, hard body.
He smiled. “And I want you.” Gently he lowered his head until his lips barely touched hers. Breathing the words into her mouth, he added, “More than anything, I want you.”
His lips finally descended fully on hers in a gentle kiss that nonetheless carried the fire of passion. That first touch was both tentative and assured, the kiss of a man who knows he has the time to taste and the inclination to savor.
Mallory let herself relax against him. Her arms tightened around his back, moving restlessly against his sinewy strength. She breathed in his intense, manly scent, part spicy cologne, but mostly pure Cliff. Giddy, she savored the combination of sensations.
Their mouths touched, separated, touched again. Each contact lasted a fraction longer. Each separation was incrementally briefer. His hands roved over her back until one lodged at her nape, holding her head at the perfect angle to deepen the kiss.
Only when she gasped for air did he release her, pressing his forehead against hers. Even while concentrating on regaining her breath, she noted that his lungs strained as hard as hers. She moved one hand from his back and around his side until it hovered over his heart. The thumping beat beneath her palm confirmed his excitement.
“You pack a wallop, Mallory,” he whispered. His mouth tenderly explored her temple and the comers of her eyes. “How come you never told me about this before?”
She froze. “This?”
“Your heat. Your fire. Your passion.”
She relaxed and let her hand do its own exploring. He had the most marvelous chest! “Maybe you never asked me?”
“Can’t imagine why not. Can you?” A thread of humor laced his voice. “I mean, here I’ve been, cold and lonely right next door to you. And you, hardhearted woman that you are, never said a word about being hot enough to warm the coldest nights and the loneliest bachelor.”
He accompanied his accusation with at least a dozen more of those tender, tempting kisses. She tilted her chin to give him better access to a particularly sensitive spot. “I confess, Counselor. Guilty as charged.” His tongue generated a spear of heat blazing through her, making her voice breathy. “I throw myself on the mercy of the court.”
He paused just long enough to send her an approving smile. “Perfect response, Ms. Reissen. And definitely a fascinating idea. The prospect of you throwing yourself on top of me leaves me barely able to stand upright.”
Mallory’s wandering fingers burrowed through the silky hair on his chest and found the raised pebble of his nipple. Her lips curved in triumph when his breath caught.
“You think I’m properly contrite for my crime, Counselor?”
He sent her a mock frown. “Maybe not. I think I need to see more of your willingness to atone for your felonious ways.”
“You mean—” She didn’t have to ask him to clarify his pronouncement. He was already busy unbuttoning her silk blouse and spreading it with a jerky movement. Her bra received equally brief attention before its front clasp released and the two sides spread apart.
He stared at her uncovered breasts for a long moment, before raising his eyes to meet hers. His voice deepened to a husky note. “I mean you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Her mouth dropped open in surprise. Unlike their earlier banter, she couldn’t find the slightest hint of humor in his quiet words.
“Cliff...”
“Mallory,” he mocked gently, “didn’t you expect a compliment or two along the way?”
She smiled with seductive intent, her hands busily tackling his belt buckle. “I hadn’t thought about it, I guess. But it’s very nice, Counselor. Smooth. I think I’m beginning to understand why you hotshot lawyers are so slick.”
“You do, hmm?” His words were muffled because his mouth nibbled her ear, sending quivers through her. He whispered directly into her ear, “Wanna find out how come they call me the office hotshot?”
His erotic promise turned her spine to a river of fire and conjured images that burned her breath in her lungs. He pushed her blouse and bra off her shoulders, letting the garments fall to the floor. While her hands surged through the dusting of hair on his chest, his palms covered her breasts and pebbled nipples. He bent and closed his lips over one breast.
Mallory’s breath stopped, though her heart thundered. Every sense concentrated on the liquid flame of his mouth against her flesh. Blood rang in her ears, a musical, insistent tone that echoed over and over and...
“Cliff—” She struggled to get the word out through lungs that barely remembered how to function. “Cliff...wait.”
“Hmm?” His mouth released her nipple and drifted over the fullness of her breast toward the other aching mound. “Just a minute.”
The ringing hadn’t stopped. “Cliff. Wait.” With every bit of strength she could muster, she pulled his head away from her. The frustration glittering in his eyes almost made her groan, but she persisted. “My pager. It’s beeping.”
It took a moment, but she saw the arousal fade in his face and awareness replace it. He loosened his grip on her enough to allow her to step away. It wasn’t easy when every atom in her wanted to step closer, but she managed.
And with that slight distance, sanity returned. She scooped up her blouse and pulled it around her, not bothering with the bra, which she stuffed into the pocket of her pants. She took one shaky breath, then another, before reaching for her purse to retrieve the persistent device. A familiar number displayed on the screen. “It’s—” she cleared her throat of the final traces of passion “—my boss. I have to call him.”
Cliff waved her toward the phone on the table. His eyes still held lingering flickers of arousal, but he said nothing while she absently buttoned her blouse.
With the closing of each button, Mallory felt more in control, more professional. By the time Stanley Rosen, the station’s news director, answered the phone, she could speak with her usual crisp tones.
Less than two minutes later, she hung up and turned to face Cliff. He, too, had repaired his appearance, stuffing his shirt back into his pants and rebuttoning it. “I take it you have to leave?” he asked before she could say anything.
“Yes.” Just looking at him heated her blood—but she had no time for that now. “There’s a major story breaking at Camp Pendleton. Stan wants me to come in and anchor the coverage.”
If she were with Mark, she knew he’d be protesting that the marine base north of the city always had some “breaking story” or another. But Cliff merely nodded. “I understand. Do you need me to do anything for you?”
She wanted to feel happy that he was letting her go to work so easily. She ought to feel happy. But disappointment lingered. “I’m sorry about...this.” She gestured vaguely to indicate the passion that had exploded between them and the interruption that had killed it too soon. “We’ll have to start our, um, association later.”
He reached her side before she realized he’d moved. “Don’t worry. We’ll pick up where we left off another time.”
Despite her own hormones singing in her veins, she smiled at him. “And will you remember where we were before the interruption?” she asked softly.
He gave her one hard, lingering kiss before escorting her to the front door. “Count on it.”
She left quickly, refusing to look back at the temptation of his farewell.
HOURS LATER, Cliff still blinked in wonder that Mallory Reissen had actually propositioned him!
With his sensual plans for the day ruined, he had decided to make use of the afternoon as he did most Sundays—by working. He’d changed into his favorite grungy sweats and parked himself on the couch in his living room, with a stack of paperwork covering the coffee table in front of him and Mozart filling the air.
As he mulled over the complex briefs needed for a client meeting the next day, he had to admit that she’d definitely come up with the best solution to both their problems. She’d looked serious, a little earnest, even...sweet while she calmly and logically explained why some hot nights in the sack together would solve both their problems.
He shook his head. He found it hard to imagine he’d ever thought of Mallory as “sweet,” but there it was. Her hopeful-but-please-don’t-notice expression reminded him of sneaking kisses from Barbara Sue Denton behind the bleachers at a pep rally.
Of course that was before Barbara Sue’s parents convinced her that dating a kid from the wrong side of town was only one step away from being with a leper.
He hadn’t thought of Barbara Sue in years. Last he heard, she’d been married and divorced twice and was on the prowl for husband number three. He spared a moment of silent thanks that said husband would never be him, then returned his attention to his paperwork.
Despite his concentration, his soon-to-be-consummated affair with Mallory sparked a glimmer of anticipation and tightened the fit of his normally loose sweats. Kissing her had been an exercise in pleasure he hadn’t anticipated. Not even the charming, halfshy uncertainty in her eyes when he’d bared her breasts compared to the luxury of her kiss.
He regretted the untimely interruption from her beeper—a lot. He wished she’d been able to stay, though he understood the demands of her career had left her no choice. If she had stayed, he knew he’d have had her upstairs and naked in his oversized bed within minutes. The details of what he planned to do to her, with her, for her, simmered in his mind.
It was going to take him hours and hours to go through every step of that envisioned scene. Then he would start all over again.
Yes, he thought as he shifted once more to accommodate the hardness that showed little sign of abating, sex with Mallory was going to be spectacular.
Their affair could well incinerate them both with passion, but he had no compunction about diving headlong into the flames. He wanted her more than he could ever remember wanting another woman.
And he intended to have her—very soon.