Don’t Call Me Sweetheart (3 page)

The butterflies in her stomach didn’t care about common
sense.

Something about today was different. Special. And for the
first time in months Whitney decided to let down her guard and allow herself to
believe that fate might be ready to smile her direction for a change when it
came to her emotional well-being. She wasn’t sure how or why but she had the
unmistakable feeling that after today her life would never be the same. Recklessly
she pressed down on the gas and both the car and her heart jumped as she rushed
impulsively toward her destination.

Brilliant midday sunlight bathed the late June day with a
sweet, golden warmth, reminding the city’s inhabitants that the sweltering heat
of summer was close at hand. Whitney took a deep breath of the heavy, floral
scented air as she pulled to a stop before the front door of the ostentatious
country club. No sooner had she done so than a uniformed teenager rushed
forward, eagerly extending his hand to assist her. She smiled in recognition.

“Thank you, Todd,” Whitney said, slipping a folded bill into
his hand when he reached for her keys.

“Hey, you’re more than welcome, Miss Lane,” the young man
replied with an appreciative grin as he pocketed the money and bent to squeeze
his lanky form behind the steering wheel. His eyes dancing with mischief he put
the car in gear and spun away from the curb, sending small pebbles spraying
onto the street.

Smiling over her favorite valet’s efforts to impress her
Whitney turned to enter the building and called a cheerful greeting to the
doorman before making her way down a long mirrored hallway to the dining room.

“Hello, Charles,” she said, approaching the maitre d’. “I’ve
been given orders to join Tess today for lunch, that is if she remembered to
actually make our reservation this time.”

Amusement tugged at the corners of the stoic gentleman’s
mouth as he glanced through the register for Whitney’s table, which gave her
time to scan the pristine room. She was hoping for a glimpse of Tess’ mystery
man before introductions were made. She noted the familiar round tables
carefully arranged around a center garden dominated by a sparkling fountain. Lush
green foliage trailed from the fountain and was also placed strategically to
separate the tables, effectively parceling the room into private alcoves where
the patrons could carry on their conversations. Each table played host to a
snowy linen tablecloth, beautiful china place settings laid with glistening
golden flatware and elegant stemware whose facets reflected light in hundreds
of directions. Together the gorgeous accessories screamed refinement and as
usual Whitney felt conspicuously out of place. She preferred old quaint over
regal any day.

“Right this way, Miss Lane,” Charles instructed,
interrupting her thoughts as he swept his arm in the very direction she had
been regarding. They skirted the fountain and made their way deeper into the
room.

Approaching the only occupied table in the area, Whitney
wondered if Charles had made a mistake. From her vantage point she could see
the broad back of a very large man, apparently engaged in an animated
conversation with his dining partner. His wide shoulders blocked her line of
vision but as they drew nearer she recognized Tess’ unmistakable laughter
rippling through the air.

That’s good, she thought grimly. At least one of them would
walk away from lunch today and say they had enjoyed themselves.

“Whitney!” Tess looked up and caught sight of her
approaching friend. Turning to her companion she announced, “Christian, I would
like you to meet my best friend—well yes, I’m afraid I had to replace you since
you nevercall anymore. This is Whitney Lane, Lane McLaughlin’s
executive assistant. Whitney, meet Christian Dade, a very dear friend of mine.”

As the man stood to make her acquaintance Whitney’s eyes
were drawn up, far up, encountering a face she had seen before, though only in
her dreams. She stared helplessly, as if frozen in time. The sable eyes and
midnight hair were intimately familiar to her. They should be. Night after
night their owner, or rather his mirror image, had come to her, inspiring the
stories which flowed so passionately from her heart.

Blushing, Whitney realized she too was being regarded quite
intently. Most likely due to her deplorable lack of manners. Embarrassed to
have been caught staring, she gave herself a mental shake and told herself to
quit behaving like a hormone-driven teenager. She realized the stranger was
patiently waiting to shake her hand, all the while allowing his sparkling
devilish eyes to roam up and down her body with a leisurely, appreciative
sweep. Normally she remained unaffected such behavior but this time she was
clearly shaken by the bold perusal. Gathering her scattered thoughts she told
herself she wasn’t going to let the intentions of this man, or any other, ever
again take precedence over her own. It was a very good plan, at least until she
laid her hand in his.

“I’m pleased to meet…”

Whitney stretched out her hand to his and nearly cried out
loud at the current of electricity that passed between them during the brief
contact. The touch of his long fingers wrapped momentarily around her own sent
a surge of pure, sexual awareness coursing through her entire body, igniting
every dormant nerve she possessed and leaving her struggling to outwardly
maintain her composure. Flustered and embarrassed Whitney stared up into the
blackest eyes she had ever encountered, noticing that Christian hadn’t escaped
the effects of their contact either, assuming one could judge such things by
the rapidly beating pulse visible above his collar. Clearly neither of them had
expected a reaction so intense, which unfortunately for Whitney was a fact not
overlooked by the third member of their party.

“Oh, my. One could almost assume that you two already knew
each other. Whitney, have you been keeping secrets from me?” Tess observed with
obvious amusement. She could be positively wicked at times.

Whitney’s face flamed as she dropped into the chair Charles
patiently held for her. She had no idea what she should say, where she should
look, or if she should even stay at this point. Tess reached out a hand and
patted her arm comfortingly in a fine display of sympathy for her brief lapse
in etiquette. “I’m sorry love. I was pretty sure the two of you would hit it
off but frankly even I’m surprised by what I think I just saw.”

Whitney turned imploring eyes toward her friend but Tess had
abruptly pivoted back to Christian. She gave him one of her most devastating
smiles and reprimanded him playfully, “And you! You haven’t changed one bit
have you? There must be at least one female on this cursed planet who’s immune
to your charms?”

“So far darlin’, you’re the only one,” Christian bantered
brazenly. “Care to let me brag about a perfect record?”

His voice was deep and earthy and so amazingly sensuous
Whitney felt an unfamiliar trembling in the deepest reaches of her body. She
took a chance and glanced in his direction. There was something utterly
compelling about the deep-set dark eyes and that firm mouth—that exciting,
bedroom mouth that promised things Whitney knew she had no right to think about.
The chiseled angles and planes of his face branded him a man who knew his own
mind and a good bit of those surrounding him as well. He exuded confidence and
the look in his eyes shattered what little Whitney had left of hers. She was
left breathless with anticipation. But at the same time too terrified to think
of the possibilities her physical side was pondering. Despite her vow to remain
unaffected by men in general, it seemed her body had taken complete control
over her actions on this one and she was in for some serious trouble if she
couldn’t pull herself together—fast.

“I’ve always been out of your league, Christian,” Tess
quipped, pretending not to notice the conflicting emotions playing across her
friend’s features. “Don’t you forget it either.”

Always. Now what was Tess talking about? There had never
been any mention between the two of them about this handsome hunk from her
past. Whitney had never even seen a man like Christian before. He easily
outshone each and every one of her fictional heroes, hands down, and they were
created to be perfection.

“Of course those guys were so perfect, just look what they
were based on!”

As if they had a mind of their own Whitney’s eyes returned
to trace the muscles of Christian’s broad shoulders where they strained against
the fabric of a navy polo shirt and she mentally pictured running her hands
slowly across his powerful chest, discovering just where the swatch of dark
hair visible at the opening of the neck eventually ended.

God, what’s wrong with me?
Whitney wondered
hysterically. She had never reacted to anyone like this in her life, not even
Jon. She snapped her eyes shut to block out the arousing images springing
unbidden to her conscious mind but it only made matters worse. In the dark she
saw more than she had before.

Training her eyes on the napkin in her lap Whitney tried to
sift through the fierce reactions Christian was invoking within her. Mortified
barely began to describe the way she felt. For pity’s sake, she was mentally
undressing a man she didn’t even know as he sat across from her in a public
restaurant. What was the matter with her?

“Actually Tess, if I remember correctly you always said I
was in a league of my own,” Christian purred in answer to the pretty blonde on
his left. “Just like you are.”

Despite her attempts not to, Whitney devoured each delicious
word the man across the table uttered, which meant she missed the assessing
glance Tess sent her direction.

“I suppose we are two of a kind after all,” Tess conceded,
then deftly changed the subject. It was time to put her plan into motion. “Well
Whitney, what do you think?”

“About what?” Whitney asked ominously, her voice sounding
embarrassingly breathless.

“Our new cover model of course.” Tess placed a slim hand
against Christian’s angular cheek and patted it affectionately. “This is a face
that could sell a million copies of that new McLaughlin novel you’re holding,
don’t you agree?”

Whitney was thinking that with his face, this particular man
could sell her anything from funeral plots to thong bikinis, neither of which
she had any use for. No wait, that wasn’t entirely true. If she could drop dead
at will the funeral plot would definitely come in handy.

“I’m not really the person you should be asking,” Whitney
stammered, wishing that a hole would miraculously open under the table and
swallow her. “You know Lane and I try not to get involved in your end of the
business, Tess.”

“Oh, I know but I was just wondering.” Tess was definitely
up to something. “If you saw this rock-hard body draped across some pretty
young thing on the cover of our steamy new romance, you’d buy it, wouldn’t you?”

“Tess! It’s not fair to ask a question like that with Mr.
Dade sitting right here!” Whitney exclaimed, trying to dodge a question that
was clearly a trap. She was still trying to assimilate Tess’ astonishing
announcement that Christian was going to portray Jayce Colter, the hero from
her book and what an absolutely perfect choice he was.

“Oh Christian doesn’t mind. In fact, I’d be willing to bet
he’s extremely interested in knowing how attractive you find him.” Tess paused
for effect, glancing at Christian’s amused features and Whitney’s outraged
expression. “That is, regarding his appeal as a cover model, of course.”

There would most assuredly be a score to settle with Tess
when this was all said and done, Whitney thought emphatically. For some twisted
reason, the woman who was closer to her than a sister could have ever been
seemed determined to fling her initial regrettable reaction to meeting
Christian Dade back in her face.

Whitney looked up just in time to meet Christian’s dark,
narrow gaze resting on her, subtly searching her face. For what, she didn’t
know but her glittering green eyes reflected questions of their own. Blessedly
their waiter appeared with menus, giving Whitney something to concentrate on
other than Christian and thankfully she was allowed to let Tess’ question go
unanswered. She wondered how she could possibly eat with her stomach knotted
like a giant pretzel.

“Do you see anything you like…on the menu, that is?” This
time Whitney followed her instincts and kicked Tess under the table. She
suppressed a giggle as she watched the ensuing wince waver beneath her friend’s
smile.

“Actually, I had a late breakfast with Miss McLaughlin. By
the way, she asked me to send her regards since she won’t be able to join us
today,” Whitney said, hoping her voice didn’t sound as shaky to the others as
it did to her.

Christian leaned back, making a pretext of studying the
elegant green and gold menu in his hands.

“That’s too bad. I had hoped to meet the elusive Lane
McLaughlin today.” He glanced up and his piercing eyes now bored into Whitney’s,
making her wonder if he could see all the secrets she worked so hard to hide
from the outside world. “Odd, to find two Lanes working so closely together. Lane
McLaughlin and Whitney Lane. Doesn’t that cause a lot of confusion?”

Oh lord, now she had to actually talk to him. What was it
she usually said when asked this question? She searched her memory, but
couldn’t concentrate. Not with those eyes imprisoning her common sense and
ability to think coherently.

“Not really,” she finally managed to reply hesitantly,
refusing to even look at Christian. So much for clever.

Tess saved her from further humiliating herself. “That’s too
bad about Lane,” she commented, silently reminding herself that she was putting
Whitney through this charade for her own good. “It would have been interesting
to see what the Madonna of Romance thought of our answer to the bedroom blahs.”

Christian threw back his head and laughed at Tess’
interesting description of his prowess but Whitney wasn’t nearly as amused at
the manner in which her other personality was being described.

“Do I need to audition to prove myself, or do you think she’ll
take your word on it?”

Whitney knew her face was flushed again and it was suddenly
extremely hot in their end of the room. Tess couldn’t resist the bait. “Actually,
you are her type you know,” she joked in a tone of voice that left Whitney with
a bad feeling about where the conversation was headed next. The naughty glint
in Tess’ wide blue eyes screamed trouble as she leaned forward to whisper
conspiratorially to Christian. “She told me that secretly she prefers big, brawny,
baaad boys in her bedroom.”