Something More (2 page)

Chapter 3

Carrie seethed with anger. The unmitigated gall of the arrogant brute. How dare he shove her and steal her cab? What kind of man pushed a woman into a taxi uncaring it was hers to begin with? She gritted her teeth and wished him to
Hades
. No one pushed her around and certainly no man—which he was about to find out. Struggling to sit up with some decorum, she straightened her clothes, drew in a deep breath, and gave him a glare meant to unman him.

Her breath caught in her throat as his hand smoothed the dripping wet locks from his brow, revealing a pair of piercing eyes. Sparkling blue like the deepest waters surrounding the islands she’d just left. His soft, apologetic expression could not hide the hint of mischief in their—oh so gorgeous—dark hue. An amused gleam sent a rush of emotion shooting through her. Her heart increased its tempo as his gaze poured over her with painstaking thoroughness.

A niggling sensation in her brain warned her—reminded her—she should be angry with him.

Boldly, her stare wandered down to a nose that curved a bit making his handsome features less perfect. Assertively, she stared at the slight curving of his mouth. Sensuous lips formed a fictitious pout and bowed in provocation. Luring her—beckoning—inviting a lover’s heated kiss. Carrie shook off the urge to do just that. When a droplet of water appeared at the corner of his mouth, she had the sensation of swaying forward.

What in heaven’s name had come over her?

Coal black hair lay plastered against his head with springing curls that refused to be conquered by the pouring rain. Beads of water on the edge of dark lashes glimmered, enhancing his features. Clothes clung to him like a second skin, showing the width of his broad shoulders. Bulging biceps creating the impulse to touch . . .

A slight sigh escaped her lungs as she became aware of the alarming effect he had on her senses. She could barely think as she sat there under his scrutiny. Her lids narrowed, noting the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and she realized he was holding back his amusement.

“Will you forgive me? Had I waited, someone else may have taken our ride.”

His deep rumbling voice sent tingles straight to the heated center of her being. Instincts that were normally on alert deserted her body. She’d already been intrigued by his dark features, midnight hair and sinful blue eyes. Add a voice that came straight from the bedroom, and the challenge that flashed in his eyes . . . her competitive hormones sparked.

“May I . . .? He produced a handkerchief and held it out to her. “At least it’s dry.”

If not for the notable expression that mocked repentance, she could almost accept his sincerity. When she didn’t take it immediately, he dabbed at the water on her nose.

The contact allowed her to gather what wits she had foolishly lost. She straightened. He had some nerve. Though he did look ridiculous with his bogus regretful expression. And her nose twitched from his masculine cologne tantalizing her senses. Eyeing him with unruffled coolness, she tried to ignore the teasing she read in his gaze.

The blaze in his eyes transformed to something else, something she couldn’t read. It was gone in a moment and the sparkle of impishness returned. A new rush of emotion shot through her. It was too much. The twinkle in his eye sucked the annoyance right out of her. Bubbles developed in her chest and came out of her mouth in the form of a giggle.

“Thank God,” he said. “I was afraid you were going to strike me.

She accepted the white hankie and watched as he lifted a masculine hand and swiped the raindrops from his face. Strong, dark hands. Even with the appearance of a drowned rat, he—quite simply put—was gorgeous.
But what hid beneath?

Carrie always made an effort to look her professional best. She patted her hair and realized it was too late to do anything about the stringy mess, so she used his handkerchief to wipe the drops that threatened to drip from her chin onto her already saturated shirt. Seeing her cold, puckered nipples, she jerked the short-wasted jacket together. Her head snapped up to find him staring at her chest.

Her hands fisted. “Am I that amusing?”

His blinding smile showed perfect white teeth. “Ho! She speaks.”

“Pardon me?”

“No, no.
I
must beg
your
pardon. I apologize for being so hasty before, but circumstances, I’m afraid, made it necessary. My intention was to save you from becoming totally drenched.”

He spoke with confidence, not arrogance. She’d been around enough egos to know the difference. His boldness caught her notice.
And
he oozed sex appeal.

“I hope you don’t mind sharing a cab.” He gave another intoxicating smile.

The instant attraction surprised her. Even when she’d lost her virginity all those years ago, her emotions had not been involved. Now, in the confining space of this cab, she’d lost control of her senses the moment she’d gazed into glittering sapphire eyes. The guy had killer looks with a smile that reached inside and tickled her intimate funny bone.

Good grief. A week with Ginger had influenced her brain cells.

“What a pleasant comfort to see a beautiful smiling face after a flight with demons. Child demons. I may not recover my hearing.” His pleasant voice rumbled from his chest.

“You don’t like children?” Carrie asked.

The horror-struck look on his face was priceless. “Good Lord, no. I mean, I
like
children. My sisters together have a dozen. But as many on a crowded airplane, with negligent parents who obviously don’t believe in discipline, and me sitting in coach . . . brutal!” He gave an exaggerated shudder.

She smiled at his dramatic display of horror.

“Where are my manners? Matthew Corridon, at your service.” He held out a hand. Long tan fingers waited to grip hers.

Often the thrill of grabbing a man’s hand stemmed from her wanting to prove her strength. A strong handshake meant a strong individual. But then, being soft did not necessarily mean being weak. She placed her hand in his. Warmth enveloped her. Her gaze shifted to his and froze. His unbelievably great mouth formed into a sinful bone-melting smile. My God. He’d already been incredibly good-looking. With that smile he was absolutely devastating.

“Carrie,” she said, ignoring his raised brow, not yet ready to reveal her last name.

“Carrie,” he repeated softly as he caressed her fingers. “What a lovely name.” He lifted her hand and ever so slowly, drawing out the moment and the tension—inch by enticing inch—closer and closer, until he pressed his lips on her skin. Heat seared her. She wasn’t sure which was hotter, the fire of his kiss or being singed by his searing gaze.

Her flush of warmth was unexpected. She’d not been a young schoolgirl for some time, so there was no need to act like one. Most men wanted a woman to melt at their smile. But his compelling grin suggested a rascal.

She was used to wolves in sheep’s clothing. And she was no lamb. “Here we are dripping all over the back seat of this poor man’s cab and . . .”

“And,” Matthew prompted.

“You’re kissing me.”

Matthew just got a jolt to his solar plexus. His eyes darted to her mouth. His breathing slowed at the thought of his tongue sliding across and through those daring, full lips.
Why was he even considering the idea?

He’d seen her in the airport. A striking female who had his pulses leaping with excited interest. He was a leg man, and she had killer legs. He thought a light flirtation might be just the thing he needed to recover from a frenzied airport. He’d grabbed a last minute flight, got stuck in coach, and had to survive the aircraft from hell. Screaming, undisciplined children only made matters worse with the headache from an already bad day. When he’d seen her dash for the taxi, he immediately decided to take full advantage of the opportunity.

One of the sexiest women he’d ever seen sat mere inches away. True, her long blond hair might be plastered against her lovely head and shoulders, but heat came off her like an inferno. Her shoulders squared like a warrior preparing for battle. Blue-eyed, bottle-blondes were too available, too anxious to be the next one in his bed. This poised creature was about as far from a Barbie doll as one could be. She didn’t need to flaunt her beauty like other self-centered females. In only a few moments, she’d shown self-assurance and a strength many men lacked.

She had blue eyes the color of the bluest sky on any summer day. They sparked fire, yet generated warmth. Her intense scrutiny gave a good kick to his already skipping pulse. The magnetism pulled him in like a fish on a reel that wanted to be caught. At the same time, her look cautioned—
don’t be too sure of yourself, for I may throw you back.

It had been a long while since he’d seriously craved a woman. Matthew boldly studied her profile. His creative mind already imagined the possibilities. A kiss on her round little nose. A lingering caress over her smooth cheeks. A nibble on her stubborn chin. His gaze traveled lower to find the clinging wet material molded to her body exposed every curve and valley of sinful bliss.

Jesus!

Air hissed between his teeth as he recalled her beaded nipples poking the front of her soaked blouse. His blood thickened and so did another part of him. He shifted hoping to give the impression he was uncomfortable from sodden clothes.

A soft rush of air brushed his damp face causing his gaze to focus on hers. He’d been caught staring—again. Long brown lashes fanned out around her spearing gaze. Her eyes brightened. Sensuous lips promising delight curled into an evocative smile, parted as if awaiting his kiss, and then she laughed. The throaty sound sent electric shocks of awareness drumming through his system.

His body responded to her in a way it had not stirred in a long time, and he relished the moment. His thoughts clouded as his pulse surged. He needed to explore why this creature enflamed his senses and fueled his desire. Thank God, she had a sense of humor.

“I believe in being a gentleman, no matter what you may have deemed from my actions earlier.” Matthew reluctantly released her hand. “Please forgive me.”

He remembered his sister’s puppy, and how sad little eyes had secured her devotion. Matthew tried for the most pitiful look he could manage, hoping to warrant Carrie’s empathy. “Am I forgiven?” A delicious smile formed on her mouth wrenching his groin. Her intoxicating scent made him long to lean closer. The idea of tasting those sumptuous lips led to other delightful fantasies.

“What kind of female would I be if I left a poor unfortunate man out in the cold, pouring rain without a care to
his
distress?”

If she only knew.

“Surely you’re not suggesting the kind of female as those during the bra burning era? The ones who refuse to allow a man a simple act such as opening the door for them. That type of female would lock the door at the butcher shop and dangle the steak in front of a starving man looking in the window.” He leaned toward her. “But certainly not you. You, dear lady, have been most kind.”

“Kind that I didn’t throw you out after you manhandled me into this vehicle?”

Mathew gave his most disarming grin. “You must take into account I’m not responsible for my actions. I’d just survived irrational people and belligerent children. I landed in bedlam instead of an airport. Disorderly people turned into an angry mob. Then I was distracted by a most beautiful woman. How can I be blamed for my quick thinking?”

The twinkle in her eyes warmed his sense of humor. His gaze dropped to her mouth. The instinct to kiss her rose-colored lips made him wonder what she would taste like. Cherries? Sweet caramel? He concentrated on their fullness instead of the words coming from her mouth. Her voice exposed confidence and control. Forcing his gaze from temptation, he met her stare. Her eyes sent the message—
I will chew you up and spit you out if I want to
.

A challenge?

How often was it he actually met someone sexy who didn’t immediately try to seduce him? How long since he’d met a woman smart and entertaining. Not only had she captured his attention, she’d seized his curiosity. And nothing got his adrenaline flowing faster than a hardy challenge.

Chapter 4

“Thank God you’re back.”

“Did you miss me?” Carrie teased.

Carrie’s assistant followed as she entered her office. The first thing she saw was a vase overflowing with roses. Groaning inwardly, she didn’t want to guess who they were from. When she’d ended her past relationship, she’d meant it to be for good. “First the cruise ship. Now these.”

Brenda echoed, “You got flowers on the cruise ship?”

Carrie waved a hand. “They didn’t work and neither will these.”

“If you don’t want them, I’ll take them,” Brenda said, like she always did.

Carrie made a mental note to send Brenda some flowers of her own. “Tell you what. If you find a vase somewhere, I’ll share them.”

“Are you kidding? I’ve collected plenty of those.” Brenda headed for the door, then whirled around. “If you don’t want the guy, why do you keep his flowers?”

Carrie gave a shrug. “I like flowers. They’re beautiful.” Carrie lifted a rose and inhaled.

“He always sends roses. First time he’s sent two dozen though . . . and they’re not red.”

“He’s waiting for me to, and I quote,
come to my senses
.” Edward could wait till hell froze over. After six months, he thought he could win her back with flowers? He knew she didn’t love him. He didn’t love her either. Nonetheless, she would not be a showpiece on his arm.

“Be right back.” Brenda hurried out the door.

A spring garden aroma filled the room making Carrie realize she should spend more time outdoors. Not in the city, of course. Who could enjoy spring and sunshine around busy streets and smog? She lifted the envelope with her name from its holder and tossed it, unopened, into the waste can just as Brenda came back in.

“You should at least open the card.”

“Why? We both know who they’re from.” Carrie leaned toward the roses to better enjoy their sweet fragrance. Just because Edward was an egotistical dick, didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the flowers.

Brenda went to the wastebasket, recovered the little envelope, and held it out to Carrie. “Maybe there’s a hundred dollars in there or free tickets to a concert.”

Carrie gave her assistant an irritated look. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Open the envelope.”

Plucking the envelope from her grasp, Carrie tore it open and read the card. Her gaze flew to the flowers, then to Brenda. “When did these arrive?”

“Just before you did.” Puzzled, her assistant took a step closer. “Why? What is it?”

“Sorry, Brenda.” Carrie touched the downy petal of a yellow rose. “You don’t get any of these.”

Shooting her a startled glance, Brenda said, “You mean they’re not from . . .?”

“Nope.”

Several expressions crossed her assistant’s face at once—interest, bewilderment, and yep, irritation. “Oh, no you don’t. You’re holding out on me.” Brenda crossed her arms and glared, still gripping the empty vase in one hand. “Tell me.”

“They’re from a man I met at the airport.” Carrie caressed the card she still held between her fingers. She couldn’t understand her instant attraction.

At first she’d been up in arms. Drenched in the pouring rain could do that to a person. Add his cavalier action and she was spoiling for a fight. His drop-dead gorgeous looks hadn’t hurt, but the playful mischief in his eyes had portrayed him a scamp. His eyes were free of hostility or bitterness. No arrogance or expectations suitable of some egotistic conqueror. Nothing condescending. He had seemed more interested in bantering and being a prominent flirt.

“You met him at the airport,” Brenda repeated dryly.

“We shared a cab.”

The look on her assistant’s face resembled a bull in an arena about to charge the matador. “And . . .?”

“That’s it.”

“Two dozen roses and you say that’s it?” Brenda tapped the empty vase against her palm. “Must have been
some
cab ride. You certainly made a lasting impression.”

Carrie’s mind returned to the charmer in the taxi. Dark curls with beads of rain glistening like diamonds. Bedroom eyes with a twinkle that hinted at laughter. A great mouth with sensuous lips that turned into a sinful smile. Dress shirt unbuttoned at his compelling throat, revealing the same shiny black curls matching the ones framing his face. Oh yeah. He too, had definitely made a lasting impression.

“Hey. A man doesn’t send two dozen roses to a woman he just happens to share a cab with.”

Carrie smiled. “This man does.”

Brenda crossed her arms and balanced her weight on one hip. Her posture let Carrie know she wouldn’t get off easy. “I think there’s more to this.”

Raising the card, Carrie tapped it against her chin as she continued to bask in the pleasure of the lovely flowers and his generosity. “Could this be his way of apologizing?”

“I knew it!” Brenda thumped the vase she’d been holding beside the one containing the beautiful roses. “Carrie. What are you talking about? Do tell. Don’t keep me waiting.”

Carrie enjoyed teasing her assistant. Drawing out the suspense, she studied the petals’ velvety softness, then motioned to the chair in front of her desk. “You know about the storm just before the plane landed. It was pouring down rain. I noticed the cab, but I didn’t see him. We ran for the cab at the same time. I reached for the handle, so did he. His hand covered mine. And . . .” She glanced to see her assistant sat on the edge of her seat. A chuckle threatened and Carrie swallowed to keep it in.

“And?”

“And he pushed me inside.”

Brenda sat frozen for several seconds. Then in a flat tone of voice, she said, “What?”

Drawing this out was pure torture for her assistant. Brenda was a hopeless romantic. Making her tone sharp, Carrie added, “He was insulting and rude.”

Crossing her arms, Brenda glanced at the flowers and back. “Right.”

“In fact, he did. He pushed me into the cab. As you know, I do not tolerate a man’s overbearing attitude. I was furious. So much so, I turned to him ready to let him have the blunt of my fury.”

“Uh oh. I’ve seen you in action. You can peel the skin off a man with words alone.” Brenda glanced at the roses again. “However, I get the distinct impression you did something else entirely.”

“Then . . .” Carrie purposely drew out the moment.

“Don’t stop now!”

“Then . . . I looked at him.” A flutter of warmth speared her center and flowed downward to spiral in her tummy. She pushed it aside. “I looked into the darkest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. The most gorgeous man I’ve ever chanced upon, hypnotized me.”

“Good Lord. I’ve never seen that sappy look on your face. Hypnotized?”

Carrie laughed. “Gotcha.”

If eyes could singe, she’d be on fire. The cross look on Brenda’s face showed she was more than annoyed. “You know, Carrie, one day a man will enter your life and really sweep you off your feet.”

“Not likely.” Carrie turned her back and shifted some papers on her desk. She had trouble ignoring the nagging thought that she
had
been a bit dazed, a bit lost in his eyes.

“You’re so romantic,” Brenda said sarcastically.

Carrie plucked one long stem—free of thorns—and held it to her nose. She took a deep breath and let it out with a heavy sigh. When she spoke, her voice came out raspy, breathless. “His voice had such a rich, deep tone . . . I can still feel the tingles that shivered down my spine.”

She hardened her eyes and stared at Brenda. “Is that what you expect me to say?”

Brenda smacked her knees with the palms of her hands. “You’re unfeeling.”

The flower’s smooth softness caressed her skin. Floral perfume penetrated her senses. Immediately, she thought of
his
scent, the distinct essence of the man who made a persistent impression on her conscious. She wasn’t unfeeling. What about the sudden hitch in her breathing when Matthew dabbed at the raindrops on her nose. The struggle to keep her eyes open, for if she closed them she’d be lost in a realm of her own making.

Brenda stood and started to pace. After three steps, she stopped. “Wait a minute. You met him at the airport?”

“Yes.”

She pointed a finger. “You shared a cab.”

“From the airport.”

Brenda held her gaze as she asked her next question. “Then you met him
after
your cruise? On the way back? Not on the ship?”

“Yes, Sherlock.”

Brenda curved a finger under her chin and continued pacing. “Let me get this straight. You took a cruise on a party boat full of men. And meet a man
after
you return?” She spun around, holding up her hands. “Where was this guy when you were on the ship?”

Carrie had to laugh. Even though Brenda worked for her, they were close enough she allowed her cheeky assistant these liberties into her personal life. “Only you would think of such a question.”

“You can tell me about your cruise later. Right now I’d like to hear about Mr. Gorgeous.”

The idea that she’d been awed was bad enough, but had she given herself away? Had she somehow exposed the exhilaration running through her body? “How do you know he’s gorgeous?”

“Are you kidding? It’s you. You’re gorgeous. Only a man of utmost confidence would have the courage to approach one of equal beauty.”

Her nose itched and she rubbed it. “You make me sound shallow.”

“Carrie. You don’t have a vain bone in your body. You’re like an ostrich, with your head so involved in business you rarely come up for air.”

“I have eyes. I appreciate a handsome man.”

“Hmm. Eye candy doesn’t impress you. But I’ll wager, something about this one got your notice.”

Yes. It did.

She read the card again.

Will you allow me to be the gentleman?

Have dinner with me.