All Tied Up

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4

ANOTHER GAME NIGHT BITES the dust.

Macy pulled one bra after another from the shower rod in Lauren’s bathroom, testing for dampness between her fingers and the palm of her hand. Dry enough were the ten she hooked over her forearm. The last two she moved to the towel rack.

Lauren could hardly object. She was gone for the night. Totally ignoring every best-friend rule ever written, she’d gone home with Anton, lucky dog, leaving Macy alone to deal with the leftovers of the evening’s insanity.

Oh, well. Tonight the work would be welcome. In addition to the physical chores, mentally sorting through the events of the evening would keep her plenty busy until time for bed.

Should she run out of questions to ask herself about the way the scavenger hunt had unfolded, or have trouble coming up with answers, well, there were always toilets to scrub. Floors to wax. A balcony to sweep clear of cobwebs and fallen leaves.

Then there was the mural on her bedroom ceiling that needed another fish or two. A dolphin. A turtle. A mermaid to give the room a bit of oomph. If Macy reached total desperation, she’d sit down under the sea, make a list and have it ready for when her artistic best friend came home.

Anything to keep her mind off the fact that, with Lauren gone, the loft was empty. Macy was alone.

Back to the scavenger hunt, she thought, flipping off Lauren’s bathroom light. How practical, really, were the game’s dynamics for her readers? If not for the sailing vacation, Macy’s guinea pigs would no doubt have expressed even less enthusiasm at having to devote time to an activity that came with no guarantee of, well, anything.

Strangers playing would at least be getting to know potential dates. This group was only in it for the prize, not the possibilities. The game was too long; that was it. The true challenge would be to find the items in one evening. From several members of the opposite sex. Forget the one-on-one, long-term assignment. The lists could be distributed as the guests arrived. No coupling, no teamwork.

Actually, though, now that she thought about it, she could present both options. The longer game would provide a broader field, giving players time to test their partner’s boundaries. And the shorter version was the perfect arena in which to rack up rapid-fire points, boom-boom.

She liked it. Liked it a lot. A two-fer. Now to figure out how to get two columns out of one idea. Ha! As if Sydney in a million years would go for that idea. It was probably a good thing Macy wasn’t a solo entrepreneur. She’d be forced to fire herself for living by the motto that all work and no play made Macy a dull girl.

The whir of the loft’s elevator motor caught her off guard, and she scurried from Lauren’s corner of the loft. If Lauren and Anton had already gotten into it over the game, Macy wanted to be out of her best friend’s throwing range.

But when the freight car ground to a stop, when the outside gate rattled opened and the inner door followed, Lauren and Anton were the least of Macy’s worries.

Because standing inside the metal cage, one long-fingered hand propped on the wall, the other braced against a lean waist, head lowered, shirt cuffs buttoned, tie snug to his throat, stood one incredibly gorgeous corporate attorney.

Leo Redding looked up, and Macy’s stomach thudded to her feet. A man shouldn’t be able to do to a woman what this one could do with his eyes alone. Gingerly, she retreated.

Boldly, he advanced, bringing into the room not only his uppity attitude, but an air of such style and class Macy itched to lick him, er, to muss him from his GQ hair to his toes shod in rich black Italian leather.

The heavy metal door rolled shut behind him. He pulled the hinged grate to a close along its metal track.

Alone. The two of them. Together on her turf.

The devil jabbed a pitchfork at her shoulder. An angel sang sweetly from the opposite side. It was so hard choosing between naughty and nice.

“Lost your way, I see,” she said.

He shook his head. “Only my ride. I came here with Anton, remember?”

“And he took Lauren with him. Leaving you stranded.”

What a weaselly excuse. She knew what Leo wanted. The cheater. Thinking he could learn her scavenger hunt secrets if he caught her alone, with her guard down and…ten demi-cup, push-up bras hung over her arm.

Oh, good humiliating grief.

“I suppose you need to use the phone to call a cab?” She directed a pointed glance toward the leather cellular case attached to his waist.

Shaking his head, he moved farther into the room, assessing the equipment in the entertainment center, thumbing through the selection of CDs, crossing to the balcony and sliding open the plate-glass door before he answered. “I have a phone.”

“Well, then, I assume you came back for the obvious.”

“The obvious?” He tossed the question absently over his shoulder.

“To get started on your scavenger hunt.” She waited for a denial, but he stepped outside, giving her nothing but a very nice view of his backside, from wide shoulders to long legs and his really great ass in between.

“You’ve got a terrific view from here.”

“You can say that again.” She muttered the comment under her breath and followed. Leaning a shoulder against the wall on one side of the door frame, she kept the heels of both bare feet on the loft’s hardwood floor, dipping only her toes into the balcony’s shark-infested waters.

Leo finally glanced in her direction. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear what you said.”

“Nothing. Just agreeing. About the view.” A safe enough reply. And true.

The neighborhood itself was newly renovated, which meant ongoing construction, the noise of road work and heavy equipment filling many hours of the day. Part of the price the residents paid for being among the first to support the new downtown.

But the nights were another thing entirely. From her fourth-floor balcony, the view of the city skyline beckoned to Macy like a playground, a theme park, a childhood never-never land waiting to be explored.

She glanced over to catch Leo still staring her way.

He’d turned his back to the railing and stood, arms crossed and relaxed. “You like it here, don’t you?”

The pitch of his voice had lowered and softened, but Macy couldn’t think about the change in his tone. She couldn’t afford to let down her guard, or her anything, around this man. “I do. It’s fun, watching the city morph and change. Everything old is new again, or however the cliché goes.”

“Seems to be the way of things. I’ve been looking at condos in the old Rice Hotel. And Anton showed me a couple of the places near Buffalo Bayou he and Doug renovated.”

Macy nodded an acknowledgment, then moved back into the loft, sensing this conversation would soon turn to the weather. Leo wasn’t here for that any more than he was here to discuss the city’s real-estate market.

She wanted to know why he’d come. What he wanted. If he intended to stay. Why she wanted him to do just that when she should be showing the arrogant beast to the door.

He walked out of the balcony’s darkness and into her light. The stars in the night sky behind him winked with but half the sparkle in his eyes. Macy forced herself to breathe.

She couldn’t let him get to her this early in the game. She had to avoid this plaguelike attraction. The man was too logical, too seriously uptight and sensible. She doubted she’d find a spontaneous bone in his body.

Then again, that depended on what one considered a bone, didn’t it?

“What’s the frown for?”

She glanced up at his question and frowned. “I’m not frowning.”

Sliding the balcony door shut behind him, Leo responded to her denial with the bold arch of one brow.

“Okay. I’m frowning. But only because you said I was.” Yes. That made a world of sense. But it was certainly better than confessing her previous ponderings.

“Then you admit to the charge. And I rest my case.”

Macy once again crossed her arms, sending the clothesline of underthings swinging at her waist. “Tell me, Mr. Redding. What’s the difference between a lawyer and a prostitute?”

“A prostitute won’t screw you when you’re dead.”

She snorted. He hadn’t even hesitated long enough to blink. “I suppose you’ve heard them all.”

“It comes with knowing the territory.” He took a predatory step into the room. His mouth crooked with a predatory grin. “And I’m very good at what I do.”

Maybe so, but Macy Webb was no man’s prey. “Yes. I remember you making that boast.”

“I wondered about that. If you remembered.”

“I don’t forget much of anything. Unfortunately.”

“Except where you keep your lingerie?”

“Funny.” She glared and draped the lot over the back of the sofa. “Okay, I forgot to do my laundry until this afternoon.”

“So I noticed.”

“That I didn’t do my laundry?”

“That you weren’t wearing your laundry.” At her affronted expression, he added, “When you were in my lap.”

“And I guess I should be flattered?”

He shrugged one shoulder instead of answering with a simple yes or no. “It wasn’t like I went out of my way to look. Your chest was in my face.”

“I see. So, what you’re saying is that when my chest isn’t in your face you don’t notice it?”

“No. That’s not what I said. But now that you mention it…” He let the sentence trail away.

Macy picked right up where he left off. “Mention what?”

“Victoria’s Secret? I think she shared it for a reason.”

He was so going to pay for that one. And he could start with a little scavenger hunt currency. “What about your secrets?”

“My secrets?”

“Sure.” She plopped down on the sofa, tucked her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around her shins. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To zip through your scavenger hunt list? Get it over with and out of the way?”

He headed for the big square chair in which he’d sat earlier this evening. She watched him walk, watched him sit, watched him square an ankle over a knee and spread out his hands on the chair arms.

“Sure. Why not? What do you want to know?” He looked at her from behind those pewter rims that framed long brown lashes and clear green eyes.

She would not be sucked in by his studly GQ perfection. She would not. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Hmm. What was wrong with this picture? And why hadn’t she studied her list instead of leaving it on her desk to go over in bed once she’d put the loft back in order? “I can ask you anything on my list and you’ll answer?”