Mystery Date (Harlequin Blaze) (3 page)

Or if she was going to leave, just as everyone in his life seemed to do.

* * *

“
O
H MY
G
OD
, here she comes,” Leigh said, sliding down in her car seat as she spied Beth walking down the driveway with purpose.

“Should we hide?”

The glee in Margot’s tone told Leigh that her friend was teasing her again. Too bad Dani had already gotten off the phone, because she could’ve joined in the chiding.

Beth reached the iron gate, then waved, and Margot obviously couldn’t resist one last gibe.

“‘“Will you walk into my parlor?” said the Spider to the Fly.’”

The joke was the last straw for Leigh, and with one defiant glance at Margot, she sucked it up, opened the door and got out of the damned car.

The salt-tinged coastal wind threaded through her hair as she shut the door and put on a smile for Beth as they hugged in greeting.

Margot had gotten out, too, and she embraced Beth, then held her at arm’s length.

“I always did admire your clothes,” Margot said, surveying Beth’s sleek multihued silk dress and her strappy gold sandals.

Beth smiled. “Even though you were a couple years behind me in college, I have to say that I looked up to your sense of style, too.” She turned to Leigh. “So what do you think?”

About fashion? Global politics? The Kardashians? Or about the blindest date ever?

Margot saved her from having to answer. “Sorry about the delay. Dani called about some wedding plans, and we were just going over them with her in the car.”

“Ah, yes. I hear Dani and Riley are having their ceremony on Clint’s ranch.” Beth laughed. “I mean,
your
ranch, Margot, now that you’re living together.”

Margot shrugged and actually blushed. Yeah, Margot, former queen of singletons, newly crowned empress of blushing.

“You heard right,” she said. “We’re hosting the wedding, and you’ll be invited.”

Then, as if she were a mom dropping off a child who didn’t want to attend a birthday party with evil clowns, Margot scooted around to her side of the car.

“And that’s my cue to scram.” She winked at Leigh. “Have fun, you.”

Beth took Leigh’s arm to lead her up to the open gates, and Margot used her hand as a fake telephone, putting it up to her ear and mouthing,
Call me when you’re done!

Leigh widened her eyes at her friend, then turned around to walk with Beth up the driveway. Margot’s car motor revved, then faded as she drove away.

And that was when it became official. This was happening. Mystery date with Mystery Man.

Beth squeezed Leigh’s arm. “So Margot drove you over here?”

“She met me at the Sea Breeze Suites for a girls’ weekend, so yeah. I didn’t need the limo you offered.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question.”

Shoot. “You’re asking if she drove me here because I was cautious about this date?”

“Exactly.” Beth laughed. “But that’s smart, really, to bring along a friend. You can trust me, though.”

“I do trust you.” But the farther they got up the driveway, the more her stomach spun. And the more her body sang with an odd, almost warped thrill.

Her, Leigh Vaughn. She’d never, ever done anything like this before, and she was liking it.
A lot.

Beth was clearly trying to put her at ease. “Your date got you everything you requested for dinner, from the ingredients to the cookware.”

All the auction basket had promised was a meal featuring honey. Like Margot, Leigh had been careful in phrasing the notes in her basket, making sure that if she didn’t want the date to go too far, she wouldn’t have to live up to any wickedly spelled-out promises. But if she liked what she saw in Mystery Man and she wanted to go beyond food and give him a real taste of honey...

Every inch of her pulsated.

“How do you know him?” Leigh asked as they got to the top of the driveway, where gnarled bushes lined the lawn and the wind whistled a soft, meandering tune.

Beth had probably been expecting this question, and she launched right into an answer.

“I’m friends with him but also professional associates. Out of pure happenstance, he found my résumé online after college, and now he pays me nicely to take care of his business affairs.”

“Didn’t you get a law degree?”

“Yes, but there are a lot of legal angles to what I do for him. Contracts, boring stuff like that.”

“And who exactly is ‘him’?”

Beth laughed again. “Good try, but that’s all you’re going to get out of me.”

As they arrived at the massive carved wood door, Leigh paused.

“Why is he taking such pains to be a mystery?” she asked, hoping that Beth would at least answer this.

Beth’s smile straightened out as she hesitated, then said, “Your basket was a game, Leigh, and he’s making a countermove, continuing the game. It’s all in fun.”

A game? What kind of man played this way? And what sort of guy could afford a place like this?

She ran her gaze over that door, noticing the iron lion’s-head knocker. “He’s rich. I can tell that much.”

“He’s got a few bucks to spare. Did you run this address through the internet?”

Leigh nodded. The house was owned by a rental property that had led her and her friends to dead ends. “We assumed the place isn’t his.”

“It isn’t. He’s only vacationing.” Beth reached out to open the door, but she hesitated again.

Meanwhile, all Leigh could hear was the sound of her heart
boom-boom-booming
through her.

Beth spoke, her hand still in midair. “It’ll be a harmless, fun night,” she repeated. “If you go inside with that in mind, you’ll walk away happy.”

Fear—or was it something else?—zinged through Leigh as Beth opened the door, revealing a foyer with a stone floor and a yawning staircase just beyond.

Adventure. That was what Margot would’ve said this was, and as Leigh’s pulse went wild, she craved it as she’d never craved anything else in her life.

She had a good figure now. She’d been told she was actually pretty after all that weight had come off.

It was time to make the most of what she’d never had.

She stepped across the threshold, breathing in, out, trying to keep her heart in her chest.

As Beth closed the door behind them, Leigh heard a voice just beyond the foyer, to the left.

“Good to see you here, Leigh.”

A deep, dark tone.

Leigh’s adrenaline pushed her forward. She wanted to see him. Wanted to know who had paid $5,000 for the pleasure of her company.

But when she rounded the corner, she came to a halt, surprised as hell at what she found.

2

L
EIGH HAD EXPECTED
to find
him,
Mystery Man, standing there with a saucy grin on his face.

But all she discovered was an antique table holding a small wire stand that propped up a smartphone. Next to it was her auction basket; it was open, exposing blue-and-white-gingham lining, plus the jars of honey she had labeled with each course idea for this date.

Looking at the inside of that basket, she felt as if this man had already undone part of her, like a button on her shirt.

She shivered, especially when he spoke again.

“You took a while to get up here, Leigh.”

When she answered him, she tried to control her voice. “Fashionably late, right?”

There had only been a bit of a quaver in her words. Not bad.

“Better you come late than never coming at all,” he parried.

Leigh didn’t know whether to laugh or melt into a stunned pool of sighs. Had he just tossed a sexual innuendo her way? And did he have any idea how twisted this was? How...

God, how kind of, sort of...okay...
absolutely
intriguing?

She sneaked a glance back at Beth, sending her a nonverbal message.
Seriously? Talking to me through a speaker is part of the date?

Beth smiled.
This is just the beginning.
Then she walked toward the table and picked up the phone. “How about a quick tour of the place before we head to the kitchen?”

They were trying to get her settled. Not a bad idea, although Leigh wondered if she would ever feel relaxed tonight.

“Sounds good,” she said.

She followed Beth back through the foyer and past the grand staircase, all the while keeping her eye on that phone in Beth’s hand.

The parlor, or living room, or whatever superrich people called a place like this, was just as expansive as the staircase and foyer. It boasted a wall-wide view of the beach below, the waves rolling toward the shoreline as the sun kept descending. The furnishings reminded Leigh of a leather-, cherrywood-and brass-filled museum.

“How old is this house?” she asked just to make conversation since the phone had been silent.

Mystery Man’s voice answered. “It’s not as ancient as it seems. It was built to look like old money, but it hasn’t been around for more than thirty years.”

“I was hoping you’d tell me something like it’s been in your family since the Dark Ages. But among other things, I know you don’t live here.”

As the voice on the phone laughed, even Beth seemed tickled that Leigh was still attempting to unearth information.

Maybe Beth had been right: enjoy the night for what it was, because it sure seemed as if Mr. Millionaire had the means to give her a decadent date. And how many times had she been on one of those?

Sure, she was used to living a better lifestyle now with her show and all. But her date had flown her down here, then offered to put her up in a high-class hotel, which she had refused because it had seemed like
too
much. He seemed to be pretty free with his money.

As Leigh walked around the room, touching the grand piano by the window, then running her hand along the top of the long curved brass-backed sofa, she pictured a man who might go along with the voice. Secretive mogul? Billionaire cowboy?

“Does it bother you,” he asked, “that I might know more about you than you know about me?”

“I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t.” And she’d be lying if she said that it didn’t do something to her in a deep, shady place that she’d always repressed. This game he was playing was almost like voyeurism, where he could see her but she couldn’t see him.

There was some power in knowing that he was interested in her enough to have singled her out, wasn’t there? It was kinky, and made her feel a little audacious. Lord knows, she’d never been audacious with a man before.

She stopped at a vintage brass-trimmed minibar, inspecting it. “What exactly do you know about me?”

“We could start with the superficial,” he said. “You’ve got a cooking show, but before that you were a personal gourmet chef who spent some time in Nashville working for a few country-singing stars. One of them gave you enough clout to get that show of yours going.”

“You’ve done some homework on me.”

As they talked, Beth strolled out of the room, leading Leigh to the staircase. It was as if the woman was a butler or maid of sorts in an old black-and-white suspense movie—there but not quite there, silent as a shadow in candlelight.

“Believe it or not, Leigh,” he said, “your life is an open book.”

Right on Beth’s heels, Leigh climbed the stairs slowly, trailing her hand along the polished wood banister. “Why do you say that? What else do you know about me?”

Thud,
went her boot on a stair.
Thud,
on another. Just like loud, body-shaking heartbeats.

“At Cal-U,” he said, “you were a home-economics major. You were on the board for Rodeo Days each year and on the dean’s list, among other honors.”

“And?”

His laugh traveled over the air, infiltrating her.

“And I know everything that’s on your biography page for the show’s website.”

Leigh almost missed a step as she came to the top of the stairs to a long hallway lit by iron wall sconces and lined with an Oriental rug.

How
much
did this man know about her? How deep had his research gone?

She tried not to think about painful things, like her struggle to love herself her entire life. Or...

Leigh took a breath. Or like her sister, Hannah, who’d died in a swimming accident before Leigh had even gotten out of high school. Hannah, who always was and would be the perfect child in the eyes of their parents.

Beth was waiting for her at the end of the hallway, which featured a huge circular stained-glass window. She had a concerned look on her face as she watched Leigh, probably wondering if she was so thrown off-balance by this setup that she was about to flee.

But Leigh merely gave her a grin, then kept walking toward the window, which depicted a blue rose surrounded by white panels that resembled shards of ice.

As she surveyed its beauty, she said, “It’s too bad you don’t actually live here, Mystery Man. The furnishings might’ve told me something about you.”

A drawn-out pause made her chest beat with an anxious rhythm. Was he thinking about telling her his name?

When his voice came back on the line, it was warmer, as if he did know her beyond a superficial biography.

“You can call me Callum,” he said. “That should do for now.”

Callum. Now it was easier to picture a face—a dark-haired man with wild locks and eyes as blue as the stained-glass rose. A guy who belonged in a Gothic mansion—one who matched this voice.

She went stiff between her legs, her pulse throbbing there. She was truly into this game now, and wondering what the night would bring only pumped her up more.

Beth had been staring at the blue rose, as if she felt uncomfortable being a part of this private discussion between her friend and her fellow sorority sister.

But all Leigh could think was
Callum.
Even if the name he’d given her was fake—which it probably was—she was genuinely hoping the rest of the date could begin now.

She took the phone from Beth, smiling at her with another clear message.

I can take it from here.

Beth didn’t show any emotion, just gave a polite smile and left Leigh alone with her Mystery Man.