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When Daniel McNeal closed the distance separating them—that confident, lazy gaze fused with hers—every one of Scarlet’s senses flared up to a brilliant blue heat and the joints in her knees seemed to melt. Then her stomach muscles knotted twice over and her heartbeat throbbed through her blood so deeply she became dizzy.
This can’t be. We’ve only just met—and he’s going to kiss me?
With everything happening in agonizing slow motion, she had more than enough time to stop him—stop herself—from leaning in, letting her eyes drift shut and, for some wild half-witted reason, make the biggest mistake of her life. She needed to remember that other man, the history they’d built and the stable future they seemed destined to share.
In her mind’s eye, snapshots of her parents’ faces blinked up—smiling, approving, toasting her future happiness. If they could read her mind now—could know how her body was responding—her mother and father would probably disown her. Not that Scarlet wasn’t shocked enough for all three of them. She hadn’t been brought up to behave like this.
Clenching her hands, Scarlet broke her gaze from his, took a shaky step back and noticed another person in the room. With her mouth agape, the florist from next door was staring at Scarlet as if the usually restrained party planner had transformed into a tassel-twirling tramp.
“Katie.” Willing away the heat lighting her cheeks, Scarlet wound an ornery curl back off her burning face. “What are you doing here?”
While Daniel McNeal straightened and slotted his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, five-foot-two Katie, in her trademark orange bib-apron, edged forward.
“No one’s on reception,” Katie replied. “I came right through. Sorry. Didn’t realize you had company.”
As usual, manners kicked in. Scarlet rolled an introductory hand toward her bold but sexy guest.
“Katie Parker, meet Daniel McNeal.”
Katie said, “Pleased to meet you,” while her curious gaze raked his frame. “You look incredibly familiar,” she said. “And that name …”
Scarlet groaned to herself. No need to get into a big conversation about this man’s celebrity status, Waves or how every person in the galaxy was a member of that social media site, including herself. She only wanted her unsettling visitor gone. Needed to get her buzzing head back in the game.
With a disciplined gesture, she indicated the door. “Mr. McNeal was just leaving.”
“That I was. We’ll talk soon,” he advised Scarlet before turning to Katie and saying, “Try to convince her to have dinner with me, will you?”
With a wink, he strolled out the door. Scarlet thought she heard him whistling while Katie shook her blond mane and rubbed her brow.
“I’m confused,” Katie said. “He asked you on a date?”
“He was joking.”
“He was dead serious. Which is fantastic because, let’s face it, that guy is grade-A gorgeous. And charming. And melt-your-bones sexy—”
Rolling her eyes, Scarlet moved off. “Katie, please.”
“Believe me, that guy is into you. And, if you don’t mind me saying, it looks like the feeling is mutual. If I hadn’t walked in, I bet you’d be kissing him now.”
“No, I would not.” Rearranging flowers near the base of the arch, she mumbled an admission. “I’d already decided against it.”
“I knew it!”
Restless, Scarlet moved to the stepladder. “You also know I’m in a relationship with a man any woman would be proud to call her own.”
“Truthfully, Scarlet? From what I’ve seen, Everett Matheson III doesn’t light any of my fires.”
“Everett and I are well suited. He’s predictable. Upstanding. Well-educated—”
“You forgot boring,” Katie muttered.
“He has a strong work ethic. He’ll make a responsible husband and father.”
“But are you in love? Do you shiver with longing every time you think of him?”
Scarlet’s stomach muscles kicked. She didn’t float around on a cushion of clouds for any reason, including a man. Filling her lungs, she lifted the stepladder and let the legs snap shut.
“I was brought up to respect myself, which means not falling head over silly heels with the first charmer who throws a line my way.” Scarlet took her ladder and headed for the storage closet to put it away. “I’m not that kind and you know it.”
Sticking both hands in her apron’s front pocket, Katie sighed like it was the end of the world. “After Cara and Max’s big announcement, bet Everett will ask you soon, too.”
“He already has. Last night.” She set the ladder down in the storage closet and shut the door. “He hired a horse-drawn carriage. French champagne and crystal flutes were waiting in an ice bucket on the seat. After he proposed, he went through all the reasons we made such a good match. The ring’s a family heirloom. It did hang on my finger a little. We need to have it resized.”
The eight-carat hand-cut ruby set in a circle of diamonds made an exquisite engagement ring. She hated to think of the insurance he’d need to even take it out of the safety deposit box. When he’d mentioned having a replica made for everyday use, she’d laughed. Everett had a sharp wit sometimes.
Katie mumbled, “I should say congratulations—”
“Thank you.”
“—but I’ll also say you don’t have to go through with it. No invitations have been sent. No venues booked …”
“You’re a good friend—” Scarlet walked past the florist and her pleading gaze “—but I really don’t need this.”
At the samples table, Scarlet got busy laying violet, cream and royal-blue swatches in an arc while Katie made half an effort to change the subject.
“Who was that Adonis, anyway?” she asked. “I know the face. Is he some new whiz kid on the political scene?”
“He owns Waves.”
Katie held her cheeks. “Of course! While I was getting my hair done at Silvo’s last week, I skimmed an article about that site’s meteoric rise. Interesting stuff. The color shots of the CEO were even better. The article ended by saying he might pose nude for a calendar to support a charity he’s behind.”
Arranging a choice of table gifts for her soon-to-arrive client, Scarlet refused to acknowledge the heat flaring in her chest … at the tips of her breasts. But she couldn’t shake the image of Daniel McNeal sans clothes. Below his folded cuffs, his forearms were strong and brushed with a healthy tan. The exposed vee below the solid column of his neck had revealed a tantalizing hint of the hair and hot flesh that lay beneath. Jeans suited his rebel-with-a-cause air. She wouldn’t—shouldn’t—imagine how delicious he’d look out of them.
“What was he doing here?” Katie was asking.
Dismissing the tug low at her core, Scarlet positioned a floral arrangement on the table. “Wouldn’t you assume he was here about a wedding?”
“Sure, but not his.”
“Because there’s been no public announcement?”
“Because if he was going to take the plunge, make the big merger, he wouldn’t have looked at you the way he did.”
Darting a glance toward the door, Scarlet lowered her voice. “Do you want someone to hear?”
When Katie reached for a jelly bean from her glass bowl stash at the table’s end, Scarlet reminded her, “Not the pink ones.”
Popping a white and a green, Katie mumbled and chewed. “Know what you need?”
Scarlet took the pink bean lying on top. “I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”
“You need to forget yourself and all the obligations—real and imagined—hanging around your neck, even for a week. It’d only take that long.”
“That long to do what?”
“To realize that there’s more to life than what’s expected. Or that what you’ve been raised to believe won’t necessarily make you happy. And that’s all I’ll say on the matter.” Katie crossed her heart to seal the deal before she asked, “Ariella’s not around?”
“She’s working from home today.”
“First that huge ‘the president’s your dad’ announcement, then weeks of the media sticking their big fat noses in her business … Far as I’m concerned, Ariella’s a rock. I’d be an agoraphobic mess by now.”
“It must be tough.” Slipping the jelly bean between her lips, Scarlet chewed thoughtfully. “Way worse than tough.”
“Wonder when the DNA tests will be back.”
“Soon now, I imagine.”
On the samples table, Scarlet’s smartphone buzzed. She opened the text. Her friend’s ears must have been burning.
Need 2 see u, Ariella’s message read. Test results just in.
Two
Morgan Tibbs swung her attention from the pages of Time to her boss when he strode into the penthouse suite. As Daniel continued on to the room that served as his office whenever they were here in D.C., which was often enough to warrant a long-term lease on this and another suite as well as an on-site vehicle, his executive personal assistant tracked his progress.
“You said you’d be out the rest of the day,” Morgan said.
“Come in here for a moment, will you?”
He was standing by the wall-to-wall windows, which overlooked Connecticut Avenue and, in the distance, the Washington Monument obelisk when Morgan entered the room. She pretended to shudder.
“Wow. Am I seeing right? You look stressed?”
“I met a woman today.”
Morgan waited.
“And?”
“There’s something different about her.”
His assistant with the attitude clutched at her heart. “I didn’t think it would ever happen. I told you we weren’t interchangeable.”
“I’ve never said that. Particularly not about you.”
“Me aside, let’s face it. You might be Einstein where IT is concerned but you’re a freshman as far as intimate relationships go. Four weeks seems about your limit.”
“If something’s not working, why drag it out?”
“He says, leaving behind a string of women with bittersweet stars in their eyes.”
Daniel faced her. “But you’ve never had stars in your eyes where I’m concerned, have you, Morgan?” He headed for his desk. “At the risk of sounding full of myself, why not?”
Daniel guessed Morgan’s ancestry lay in the East. Her hair was gleaming and straight, like a sheet of darkest silk. She was petite with dainty hands, a round face and an impressive IQ that gave his own impressive score a run for its money. She also possessed a telepathic ability to predict his needs precisely, which was the reason she accompanied him everywhere. Rarely was she taken aback. Now, however, genuine shock widened her almond-shaped eyes.
“You’re my boss,” she said. “Being attracted to you would never enter my head.”
“Same here.”
“Because of that extra ear in the middle of my forehead, right?”
“All I’m saying is a man knows when there’s a mutual connection. He feels that spark. The simmer of primal heat.”
She knitted her fine, dark eyebrows together. “Maybe you should talk to a boy buddy about this.”
“No. I need a female’s take.”
Pushing out a breath, she crossed over to him, her designer combat trousers rustling as she took a seat. “So, you met a woman.”
“I asked her out to dinner. She declined.”
Morgan grinned. “I’ll put out a press release.”
“She wanted to say yes, but something held her back. She was trying her best to be cool about it. Dismissive. But I’m not mistaken. Those sparks were firing.”
He recalled the way Scarlet Anders had looked at him, almost fearful but hungry, too. What was the problem? She didn’t like his cologne?
“My best guess,” Morgan said, “is that she’s either seeing a guy or getting over one.”
“Attached or burned … I see.” He absorbed the opinion, then went on. “I have her number. Business number at least.” He drummed his fingers on the desk, made a decision, then reached for the phone. “I’ll call her.”
Morgan cringed. “If she said no, that move could feel a little stalkerish.”
“I don’t stalk. It’d be a follow-up.”
“Uh-huh.” She stretched out her legs and her Doc Marten heels dug into beige plush pile. “Who is she?”
Daniel filled Morgan in. She already knew about Max and Caroline Cranshaw tying the knot; part of his reason for being in D.C. was to personally congratulate the couple and offer his support before the big day. Morgan hadn’t known about his planned visit to DC Affairs, however. When he’d finished telling her about his meeting with Scarlet, his assistant blinked twice.
“Let me get this straight. You want to help a professional wedding planner plan a wedding?”
“You’re on my side, remember?”
“Fine.” She shrugged as if this most difficult problem had an easy solution. “Next time you meet up with Max Grayson and his fiancée, ask a few questions about your Scarlet. If she and Caroline Crawshaw are good friends, as you say they are, she’ll gush with information.”
The cogs began to whir, and his smile grew and grew.
“Very crafty, Ms. Tibbs.”
