Private Arrangements

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“I think this is a good spot,” he said, pulling out her chair.

She had to hand it to him and his brothers when it came to manners. They were on top of their game, and she knew their mother could be thanked for that. Eden Steele had raised her sons to be gentlemen. Becoming notorious playboys was their own doing.

“There’s a nice crowd here tonight.”

She had noticed that as well. She had found out about the lounge’s jazz night from a woman in her aerobics class this morning. Like she’d told Jonas, she enjoyed jazz, mainly because her parents were huge fans and she and her brother had grown up listening to it.

“Would you like anything to drink?” he asked when a waiter materialized at their table.

Remembering what he’d told her over dessert about having to limit his drinks, she smiled and said, “Just a glass of water with lemon.”

Jonas gave her order to the waiter. “And I’ll have the same.”

He glanced toward the stage. The musicians were still setting things up. “Looks like we made it before the start of the show.”

“Yes, it looks that way.”

She had turned her head to look around the lounge, but Jonas got the distinct impression she’d done so to avoid eye contact with him. Did he make her uncomfortable? Nervous?

Then again, she could be avoiding his eyes because she was upset that he had invited himself to join her. The waiter returned with their waters and he watched as she took her lemon and gently squeezed it into the water before lifting the glass up to her lips and taking a sip. He sat there, transfixed and aroused, as he watched her part her lips.

She caught him staring, tilted her head and asked, “Is anything wrong?”

If only you knew, he thought when he shifted his gaze from her lips to her eyes. Her short, curly dark brown hair crowned her face like a cap and emphasized the darkness of her eyes and her high cheekbones.

Her question didn’t give him pause. His brothers claimed he could BS his way out of any question so he said, “No, nothing is wrong. I was thinking about your lemon.”

She lifted a brow. “My lemon?”

“Yes. Did you know there aren’t any in India? They use lime instead. I was disappointed when I visited there a few years ago and couldn’t get any lemonade.”

She smiled grimly and he figured she was probably thinking, Whatever.

“So what’s your favorite jazz group?” he asked her as he squeezed his own lemon into his water, still picking up on her nervousness.

She shrugged. “I basically love all of them, but I grew up on music by the Diz. My parents were huge Dizzy Gillespie fans. I also like Branford Marsalis.”

He nodded and smiled. “Same here. My parents enjoy listening to jazz as well, and my brothers and I grew up on the music. But nothing dominated our house like the Motown Sound.”

He chuckled and then added, “My parents are actually members of Motown Is Forever Association, which is a group of die-hard Motown fans who meet once a year to get their old-school, back-in-the-day groove on.”

Selecting another lemon off the tray he squeezed it into his drink. She had gotten quiet on him again. The conversations at the tables around them were low and steady, which made the quietness at their table all the more noticeable. He took a sip of his water and wondered what the heck he was doing here. Why was he determined not to let their time together end at Mavericks just yet?

He knew the answer. It was simple. He needed to know why the kiss they’d shared had done him in.

By the time the first artist hit the stage, Nikki’s brain cells were almost fried. She was certain Jonas was generating just that much heat. She could actually feel it all over her body, in some places more so than others, which was why she tightened her legs together.

What was his secret when it came to women? Not only did he have the looks but he also had the gift of gab. Although she had very little to say, it seemed he was determined to keep the conversation going. She had discovered there were no lemons in India, that Walt Disney’s body had not been put in cryonic storage and he was convinced a bar of soap between the bedsheets prevented your legs from cramping. She figured if anyone would know about the latter it would be him, considering the amount of time he probably spent in bed with women.

She tried shifting her focus off Jonas and onto the performer. He was killing his saxophone, emitting sensuous sound waves that floated in the room. She recognized the piece and always thought she liked it better with the words, but the sax player was giving her thought. Without the words of undying love, the music still had a message of its own. And the message was stroking her senses, stirring across her skin and caressing certain parts of her body.

“I don’t understand why you’d come here alone, Nikki.”

She glanced over at Jonas and saw he had tilted his head while studying her as if she was a complex object of some sort. Was she that hard to figure out? Evidently he was a man who thought a woman wasn’t complete without a man. She would be the first to admit she assumed a man and woman complemented each other, but only when they were on the same accord. When they wanted the same things in life and when there were no misunderstandings about their relationship.

“Why wouldn’t I come here alone?” she asked.

“Why would you feel the need to?” he countered.

At that moment she felt that she could respond to his questions several different ways since he evidently didn’t understand that some women preferred peace to drama, solitude to unnecessary commotion. But more importantly, a loving relationship to a purely sexual one.

She left his question hanging for a few moments before finally saying, “I don’t date much by choice. At the moment I don’t have time for the games men like to play.”

He met her gaze, held it while he took a sip of his water. “So you’re one of those women.”

He’d said it like “those” women were a dying breed. Probably were if he had anything to do with it. Since she knew exactly what he meant, she said proudly, “Not really. I stopped believing in forever-after a while ago. I don’t mind having a good time myself. But on my own time.”

Nikki was convinced when he curved his lips into a challenging smile that her already wet panties got even more soaked. “Your own time? An interesting concept. One you’d toss to the wind with the right man,” he said, as if he knew that for certain.

She knew his words were both a challenge and an invitation. He was one of those Steeles, those “Bad News” Steeles, so he would think that way. He was of the mind-set that everything would begin and end in the bedroom. And the end result would be hot, sweaty, sexually satisfied bodies.

Nikki noticed the sudden darkening of his eyes and flaring of his nostrils. If she didn’t know better she would think that the pure animal male in him had picked up an arousing element in her scent. She’d heard some men had the ability to do that. Men who were acutely in tune with a woman.

And she wished Jonas wouldn’t look at her the way he was doing now, like he could see more than normal people could with those green eyes of his. It was as if he could see right through her blouse, past her bra, directly to her nipples, which were responding to everything male about him. Certain things a woman couldn’t evade, and her response to a gorgeous man was one of them, no matter how wickedly sinful the man was. And he was wickedly sinful. From the crown of his wavy hair to the soles of the Salvatore Ferragamo shoes he was wearing.

Thinking too much quiet time had passed between them, she decided to address what he’d said. “By the ‘right man,’ you’re talking about a man like you, I presume.”

That sinfully sexy smile widened. “And what kind of man am I, Nikki?”

Why did he have to say her name with such passion, such sensuality? And why was he intent on engaging in what she considered wasteful conversation? He knew the kind of man he was; he certainly didn’t need her to spell it out for him. But if he wanted to hear it directly from her lips then…

“You’re a man who loves women. Not just one or two, but plenty. You’ll never settle down with just one, nor do you want to. Life is about women and sex, but mostly sex and more sex. You play safe. You play fair. But you play. And you will always play.”

Jonas shrugged. Yes, that pretty much sized him up and he had no shame. There would never be a single woman to capture his heart like they’d done to Galen and Eli. There would never be a woman to make him feel anything other than a tightening in his groin. And that’s what was so hard for his mother to understand and accept. But eventually she would. She had no choice.

Instead of responding to what Nikki had said, since her words really needed no response, he settled back in his chair to continue listening to the music. And to think some more about the woman sitting across from him. She might not want the hot sheets, sex and more sex, but something about being here with him was getting to her. He was a hunter and could pick up the scent of an aroused woman a mile off. And some part of his presence, and their conversation, had turned her on. He was certain of it.

He had no doubt she wanted to believe everything she’d said. Although she hadn’t admitted such, he had a feeling that deep down she did believe in that nonsense about forever-after. He’d bet at one time she’d been wrapped up in the notion of a house with the white picket fence, babies and the words of undying love from a man’s lips.

Who was the real Nikki Cartwright? his mind demanded to know. She’d peeled off a layer tonight by wearing a dress instead of jeans, and he liked what he saw. Who would have thought she had legs that looked like that? Legs that could probably wrap around a man real tight, grip him pretty damn good while they had nitty-gritty, between-the-sheets sex.

He took a sip of his water and appreciated how the cold liquid flowed down his throat to cool his insides. He knew the score with her and conceded he needed to leave her alone. Her turning down his job offer was probably a smart move. And to be quite honest, he really didn’t have any reason to be sitting here with her, sharing her table, and listening to jazz.

He had tried not to notice her at Eli’s wedding when she’d moved around the room snapping photographs. She had looked cute then…and busy. To keep his attention off her he had pretended interest in a couple of single women who’d flown in to attend. He’d eventually left the wedding reception with one of them.

And talk about leaving…Jonas knew he should go, tell her it was nice seeing her again and that he regretted they wouldn’t be working together again and that he understood. His jaw tightened knowing that was one lie he could not tell because he did not understand it. Why was she walking away from an opportunity that could ultimately boost her career?

“That was beautiful,” she said when the saxophonist ended the song. Like others, she stood to applaud, and Jonas’s gaze automatically lowered to her legs. What a pretty-damn-stunning pair of legs they were. He had never considered himself the leg man in the family—everyone knew that was Eli. His favorite part of a woman’s body usually was the middle. Specifically, what lay at the juncture of her legs. All the others parts—the legs, the breasts, the thighs, hips and backside—just whet his appetite. And as he continued to stare at Nikki’s legs he could feel not only his appetite being whet but also himself becoming fully aroused in one hell of a way.