Dare to Love (6 page)

“I knew you two would get along well,” Ian said, sounding pleased. “I’ll leave you to it.” Ian started for the door then turned. “Olivia, do me a favor and invite Tyler, Scott, and Avery to my place on Sunday? Afternoon by the pool and dinner.”

His sister nodded. “Sure thing.”

“Add Sienna to the guest list.”

Riley recognized Alex’s sister’s name and turned to stare. She knew how strained the relationship between Ian and the other side of the family was.

“Whoa. Did hell freeze over?” Olivia asked.

His mouth tightened. “No, I made a bargain with the devil.” Ian’s gaze slid from his sister’s to Riley’s, warming as their gazes made contact. “And it was worth it.”

Riley shivered beneath his heated stare.

Olivia’s eyes narrowed, catching Ian’s not-subtle wink at Riley.

Just what kind of deal had he made and what did she have to do with it, Riley wondered.

“Why do I have the feeling the deal didn’t include me doing your dirty work?” Olivia astutely asked.

Ian grinned, and Riley assumed he’d gotten his way with that smile many times in his life.

“I remember going to a certain party for you and Avery the other night, so…”

Olivia raised her hands in a gesture of defeat. “Fine. I’ll invite them. Just add it to my to-do list,” she said, grabbing a piece of paper and jotting something down.

“Add Alex and Jason too,” Ian said, escaping out the door before Olivia could stop him.

“Argh! Brothers!” Olivia grumbled, lowering herself back into her seat. “They are such a pain in the ass.”

Riley laughed. “I wouldn’t know. Only child here.”

“Well, my oldest brother is bossy, but maybe you know that already?”

“He’s…persuasive,” Riley said.

“And you’re diplomatic. Anyway…” Olivia gestured to the chair across from her desk. “Have a seat. Relax. And we’ll get you set up here.”

A few hours later, Riley had been to HR, filled out paperwork, and found herself officially employed by the Miami Thunder organization. She was given a desk in a small side office, a computer and a password into the system, and her own instant message name within the company.

All the things a working girl could ask for. Best of all, she didn’t feel like she was being given special treatment, which had worried her.

She was just about to sign out for the day when her message box blinked on her computer.

Ian: Hungry?

She laughed and typed back: Always

Ian: I’ll come by and take you for dinner.

She wrinkled her nose at his bossiness.

Riley: That’s not asking me if I want to go.

Ian: That’s because I’m not asking. You’re hungry, I’m hungry. We’ll go get something together.

And there it was, the presumptuous side coming out. She swallowed hard, not liking the idea of being pushed.

Riley: It’s been a long day. I planned to grab something at home.

Without warning, he stepped into her office. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing an enticing expanse of tanned chest, his tie hanging loosely around his neck, and he’d slung his jacket over one arm, clearly finished for the day.

“Ready?” he said, looking more attractive than any man had a right to.

“I didn’t say yes. I’m going home.”

He frowned. “You have to eat, yes?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Then let’s go.”

She meant to argue but somehow found herself being led to the parking lot, his possessive hand on her back. They stopped at the first spot, his name on the reserved sign. The lot had emptied out, and not many cars remained. A black Porsche waited for him there.

“Umm, my car is over there.” She pointed in the direction of her vehicle.

He frowned, as if he hadn’t thought of that. “Leave it here. We’ll figure it out later.”

“But—”

He hit his remote, the car beeped, and the doors unlocked. Before she could argue further, he nudged her toward the passenger side, and soon she was inside and buckled in. He was brilliant at getting his way, though she had to admit she hadn’t fought all that hard. She wanted to be with him even if she didn’t want him overriding her express wishes.

Enclosed in the small confines of the sports car, his cologne permeated every one of her senses. He took her to one of his favorite restaurants, an Italian place where the owner knew him by name and hovered to make sure he was satisfied with the meal and the service. To her surprise, time passed quickly with interesting chitchat and fun banter. Ian was good company, interested in everything she had to say. He asked a lot of questions about her life. Simple questions. He didn’t dig deep, but she suspected he was merely biding his time. She was doing the same, satisfied to learn about him in small increments.

The pattern continued throughout the week. He’d show up to take her to dinner, not take no for an answer, and she’d invariably stopped arguing. His persistence endeared him to her even more. He didn’t hide his interest, and she couldn’t help but respond. Although he took their get-to-know-you dance slowly, he didn’t mask his ultimate intent to wine, dine, and seduce her.

He was a tactile man, something she wasn’t used to but quickly grew accustomed to and even desired. He always reserved them a booth and sat close by her side, his arm stretched behind her head, his big hand tangling in her curls. She felt the pull from her scalp to between her thighs, and it was all she could do not to attack him at the table. Especially when every single night he kissed her long, hot, and deep but ultimately sent her home, leaving her aroused and aching for so much more. She supposed that was his plan, and he was accomplishing it spectacularly.

How could she not want to be with him?

Alex came to mind, as he did when she was alone and not overwhelmed and seduced by Ian. She wanted—needed—to talk to him and make him understand the job and the relationship or whatever she was having with his half brother wasn’t a betrayal. She couldn’t control her feelings for Ian nor did she want to. But Alex was in LA on a promotional trip, and this conversation couldn’t happen over the phone. He’d be back on the red-eye Friday night, and she’d tell him on Saturday. As an excuse, it was a legitimate one, and though she didn’t relish the conversation, a part of her was relieved to put it off.

By the time the weekend rolled around, she was ready for anything, almost wishing he’d take that next step. He pulled up to Prime 112 and left his Porsche with the valet.

The hostess greeted him with a warm smile. “Mr. Dare, it’s wonderful to see you. Your usual table?”

He inclined his head. “Thank you, Maria.”

He’d reserved a table with a view but one that still afforded them privacy. With no booths, he still didn’t sit across from her. Instead, he held out her chair then sat beside her.

Prime 112 was one of the more exclusive steak restaurants in Miami and not somewhere she’d been to before. “You’re a steak man?” she asked when they were settled.

“I come here for the burgers,” he said without looking at the menu.

She opened a large leather binder and looked through the options, her mouth watering at the array of choices. “Thirty dollars for a burger?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“Kobe beef. It’s the best.”

Oh, really? She folded her arms across her chest and nodded. “Then I’ll have the same.” If the man was that crazy, she figured why not join him.

He eyed her with an indulgent expression she wasn’t sure she appreciated.

“Order what you like. You don’t have to eat a burger because I am. Or because you think it’s one of the inexpensive options.”

She curled her fingers around the menu. “I like hamburger,” she said, fighting off the blush caused by him having figured her out.

“Good. My siblings agreed to come over on Sunday for dinner, so I’ll put those burgers on the menu.”

“I’m sure they’ll appreciate that.”

“But will you?”

She glanced up at him. “I won’t be there.”

He reached out, and when he covered her hand with his, she was surprised visible sparks didn’t fly from the heat his touch generated.

“Yes, you will.”

She decided it was time to explain a few things to him. “Just because you got your way this whole week and we’ve had dinner together every night doesn’t mean you can say jump and I’ll ask how high.” She met his stare, wanting to him to understand she was serious.

Ian heard the insistence in Riley’s voice and knew immediately she wasn’t kidding. In business or in his personal life, he wasn’t used to not getting his way. His usual MO would be to steamroll over the opposition, but Riley wasn’t his adversary. He wanted to know her inside and out.

She was different from the other women he knew. She was independent. She had spunk. All qualities he appreciated because few women argued with what
he
wanted. Only his sisters came to mind. Which meant he had to change tactics or she’d bolt. To his shock, he found himself doing a rewind.

“Let me start over. Will you come to dinner on Sunday?” He inched closer. “Please?” He stroked the top of her soft hand with his rougher fingers.

She swallowed hard, her delicate throat moving up and down as she reacted to him.

“Don’t you think the first time you meet with your siblings you should all be alone?” she asked.

Ian groaned at her accurate assessment. “Yes, you’re probably right. But that doesn’t mean I can do it.” He stopped short of saying he needed her, but she’d be an ideal buffer between them. “I’d appreciate it if you’d come,” he said, managing to hang on to his dignity.

She bit the inside of her cheek, clearly still uncertain. “I think I’d only cause more problems between you and Alex. Not to mention between me and Alex. I still have to tell him about the job.”

Ian grimaced. He didn’t want Alex getting in the way of his affair with this woman but was forced to acknowledge his half brother had been in her life first. Which meant Ian was going to have to give when it came to the other man. Didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Talk to Alex and get back to me,” he said, giving her more leeway in her decision than he wanted to.

“I—”

“Can I take your drink order?” a waiter asked, interrupting as he stepped up to the table.

“We need some time,” Ian snapped at the man, his gaze never leaving Riley’s. If he broke eye contact, she’d withdraw and say no.

The waiter walked away.

She leaned closer, her sweet scent kicking his awareness of her into even higher gear. “I’ll talk to Alex if you tell me one thing.”

He raised an eyebrow, amused that she gave as good as he did. “What is it?”

“The other day, with your sister, when you were talking about inviting your siblings, you said something about making a deal with the devil. You looked at me and said it was worth it. What did you mean?”

She was also perceptive. “Alex wouldn’t share your contact information with me. To get it, I had to ask my father. He had…conditions.”

She tilted her head. “Go on.”

“In exchange for your address and phone number, I agreed to reach out to my half siblings.”

She blinked, her gaze softening. “You did that for me?”

“I wanted to apologize for not returning your call. I needed to know what Alex meant when he said it was too late for me to help you.”

She exhaled slowly, pursing her lips together as she blew out a long stream of air.

He’d been deliberately slow and methodical with her, taking his time. But he wanted nothing more than to taste those lips and plumb the depths of her warm, wet mouth. Throughout the week, he’d been hard most of the time, thinking about her in the same building, dying for a taste. At home, alone, he’d taken himself in hand. If he wanted her in bed, he had to keep to the plan and stop pushing her around, but it wasn’t easy. He was who he was, and there was only so much he could temper. From the sudden warmth in her expression, he’d begun making headway.

“Look, you obviously know things between Alex’s side of the family and mine are strained. I hoped you’d come on Sunday to ease the tension. You’re friends with Alex and now you’re—” Tread lightly, he warned himself.

“I’m what?” she asked, a smile lifting her lips.

“You’re involved with me.” Blunt but not so aggressive she’d bolt. All in all, he figured he’d handled that well.

She laughed, the sound brightening his evening. “Is that what you think? A couple of dinners and we’re involved?”

“By Sunday when they all show up, we will be.”

*     *     *

After a week of him wining and dining her, keeping a respectful distance while luring her in with his domineering personality and erotic kisses, Riley decided Ian Dare was too much. He epitomized danger wrapped in a too-appealing package.

She eyed him in the quiet that fell during coffee, using the time to compare him to past relationships, none of which were all that recent. Nobody piqued her interest the way he had. Probably because Riley’s usual taste in men ran to the predictable and safe. Being raised by a bully determined to have his own way with no regard to the emotional destruction left in his wake, Riley made no apologies for choosing carefully. She was immune to hardened, take-charge men.

So she ought to be immune to Ian and his charm.

She wasn’t.

She did, however, wonder just how charismatic her father had been toward her stepmother before she married him and, too late, had seen his other side. Riley mentally pursued that possibility and immediately discounted the notion that Douglas Taylor had ever come close to Ian Dare in charm. Though her father had clearly known how to hide his darker self, never in his lifetime had he been endearing. Her stepmother, Melissa, admitted she’d been drawn to his neediness during his hospitalization, a weakness in herself she’d made certain she got over after the divorce. She might have been seduced by his good looks, but his charm? Not so much.

To even think about putting Ian and her father in the same category was insulting, and Ian didn’t deserve it. But that didn’t mean he was
safe
.

No matter how strong her heart beat when he was near, no matter how wet her panties when he turned his focus solely her way, no matter…
what
, she thought, desperately trying to remind herself why she needed to keep her distance. Alex had already pointed out Ian’s penchant for jumping from woman to woman. Wasn’t that warning enough for her to stay away? It should have been, but when it came to this man, she feared she was fighting a losing battle.