Hunk for the Holidays (4 page)

He pulled up at a stoplight, his gaze dropping to her mouth. “Yeah, I’m pretty hungry myself.”

It was difficult to swallow when her mouth had suddenly gone dry. Her tongue swept across her lips. It was a mistake. His eyes followed its path. Then his gaze lifted, and she found herself drowning in a swirling pool of amber heat. Every coherent thought melted right out of her brain. All except for one.

Kiss me. Kiss me now
.

The car behind them honked and instead of kissing her he pulled away from the stoplight. It took a little longer for her brain to congeal. She sat back against the soft leather seat and closed her eyes.

Man, the guy was good. And she was screwed. Or would be, if she couldn’t pull her mind out of the gutter. He cleared his throat, but she refused to open her eyes. Maybe if she kept her eyes closed for the entire ride, she wouldn’t find herself with her legs in the air and her morals out the window.

“What kind of music do you like?” He turned on the radio and scanned through the stations. She really didn’t care what he chose as long as she didn’t have to look at him while he was choosing it.

“This is good,” she blurted out when he landed on a Christmas song she recognized. It took only a second to realize it was the Chipmunks singing about huuu-la hoops. That got her eyes open. She glanced over at him.

One eyebrow lifted. “A favorite of yours, I take it?”

Her face heated up, but she refused to let him know
just how much she wanted to open the door and dive out into the snow-packed gutter. She was a McPherson, and a true McPherson would never admit to being wrong. So she cleared her throat and sat up straighter in her seat.

“As a matter of fact, it is. Everyone loves the Chipmunks.” To prove her point, she sang along with Alvin in her off-key voice for a full two minutes. After she was finished, she turned and glared at him, daring him to say one word about her performance.

His eyes twinkled, and a huge smile lit his face, but he didn’t laugh. Not once. The man had unbelievable self-control. Or he just knew who buttered his bread. Another Chipmunk Christmas song started, but before she could sing one note, he reached over and turned off the radio.

“So tell me about yourself. What do you do at M & M?”

The question surprised her. Not one of the other guys had asked it, which was why she was bluntly truthful. “I do a lot of bookkeeping.”

“By the sound of your voice, I would say you don’t like bookkeeping.”

“You’d be right.” She looked out the side window.

“So what do you like doing?”

By the time they reached Mark Hillshire’s house, where the party was being held, Cassie had her sex-deprived body under control. Not because of anything she did, but because her date was actually a pretty intelligent guy and a great conversationalist. He engaged her in a discussion about construction that demonstrated a fairly competent knowledge of business and architecture. Somewhere along the line, he had learned a few things besides how to make
a woman sizzle. She found herself telling him things she talked about only with her brothers.

“So I don’t get it. Why don’t you just tell your father that you want to design buildings and work on site?” he asked.

“You don’t know Al McPherson.”

“I guess I don’t.” He nodded at the large brick home on the right. “Is this it?”

“Yes. They have parking attendants, so just pull into the drive,” she said. He ignored her, bypassing the long driveway, and found a spot down the block.

With his hand gripping her seat, he looked over his shoulder and zipped next to the curb. Her gaze caught on his tanned throat, the knot of his Adam’s apple and the shadowy indention at the base.

She swallowed. “You forgot your tie.”

He slipped the car in park and turned off the engine. “I didn’t forget. I still haven’t mastered the bow tie. You wouldn’t know how, would you?”

“Face me,” she ordered as she turned in the seat. “With four brothers, I’ve gotten pretty good at it.” Of course, that had been with her brothers, not with a man whose amber gaze caused her stomach to flutter and her hands to shake as she slipped the top button into the hole. Beneath the collar, his throat felt hot and smooth.

“Are you cold? Your hands are like ice.” He continued to watch her. “What is it they say about cold hands?” His breath was warm and smelled of peppermint. “Cold hands, warm heart.” He brushed a piece of her hair back from her eyes. “Is your heart warm, Cassie?”

Luckily, she’d finished with his tie, because her entire
body trembled at his touch. “Most of our employees don’t think so.”

He ran his fingers along her jawline and tipped up her chin. “Mmmm, I wonder.”

Then, just like that, he released her and opened his door. She was so stunned, she didn’t even try to get out. Instead, she remained frozen to her seat until he reached her side. Between her trembling knees and spiked heels, she could barely walk. Thank God he held her elbow.

“Where did Cassie come from?” he asked as he slammed the door. “Isn’t that more Irish than Scottish?”

Amazed that he knew the difference, it took her a moment to answer. “My mother is Irish and Italian. Mom chose all the first names. Jake, Rory, Cassandra, Patrick, and Matthew. Dad chose the middle names. Douglas, Camran, Catriona, Neill, and Lachlan.”

“Ahhh.” He studied her dark hair. “Italian. That would explain it, Cassandra Catriona.”

“What do you go by?” she asked as they turned and walked down the sidewalk. “I mean, what name do you use when you’re working?”

“James.”

“James?” She sent him a skeptical look. “Let me guess, your last name is Bond.”

He laughed as he guided her around some shrubs. “Exactly.”

“Not very original, if you ask me.”

“I would imagine that you’re used to names with a little more blatant sex appeal like Lance or Rod?”

There had been a Lance and a Rod from the escort service. Ironically, neither one of them had half the sex
appeal as this plain James did. But if he was going to work for an escort service, he should come up with a better name.

“How about Dirk?”

“Dirk?” He laughed. “I think James will do.”

Before she could ask what his last name was, her oldest brother, Jake, pulled up in his Lexus and hopped out.

“Hey, Cass. Did Mom call and tell you about Dad?” He tossed the keys to an attendant before holding the passenger door for his wife, Melanie. It wasn’t until he’d slammed the door that he noticed James. His eyes narrowed briefly; then he held out a hand. “Jake McPherson.”

James shook his hand. “James.”

Cassie knew Jake was waiting for more, but James didn’t appear to notice. Instead, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and slipped a hand in his pocket. Jake looked like he wanted to say something, but decided against it. Being a tough corporate lawyer, he knew when to push and when to leave things alone.

“Hi, I’m Melanie.” Jake’s wife stepped forward, her face lit with its usual kind, welcoming smile. Except there was approval in her soft brown eyes that hadn’t been there for the other escorts Cassie had introduced. Of course, what woman wouldn’t approve of a man who looked like James?

Melanie shivered and took Jake’s arm. “Let’s get inside before we freeze to death.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” James said, as he allowed them to lead the way up the winding path to the Hillshires’ front door.

“You’re more confident than the others,” Cassie said as
they walked up the path bordered by shrubs mantled in twinkling lights.

He slowed his steps to match her smaller, wobbly ones. “The others?”

“The other escorts.”

“How many have there been?” he asked.

She ignored the question. “It probably has to do with age. They were younger than you.”

“How young?”

“I think one was nineteen. Although he swore up and down he was twenty-one.”

He rolled his eyes. “Good Lord.”

A noise came out of her mouth that sounded very much like a giggle. But since Cassie had given up giggling at age ten, she figured her ears had deceived her.

“So you think it’s funny to be dating an old man?” he asked.

“You’re not that old,” she said. “Surely not more than forty.”

“Thirty-five. And don’t call me Shirley.”

Another one of those girlish giggles came out, but this time she clamped her mouth shut and cut it off.

The Hillshires had hidden speakers somewhere on the lawn. The sound of choral voices singing “We Three Kings” filled the air. With his arm tucked securely around her, it was quite easy for Cassie to fantasize that she was walking through this beautiful holiday scene with a man who really cared about her. A man who wasn’t being paid for his time. A man who was with her because he chose to be.

Once they got inside, James took his jacket back, but
before he could slip one arm in a sleeve, the rest of the McPherson clan descended. Thank God her father and mother were at home.

“Whoa, Miss Cass, who dressed you tonight?” Mattie, her youngest brother, teased with a wide grin that Cassie wanted to wipe off with her fist when he added, “Hookers R Us?”

“No, Simply Sluts.” Patrick spun her around and pulled her into his arms.

He passed her to Rory, who made some comment about a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Her face heated up, not because of her brothers’ teasing, but because of the pair of whiskey eyes that took in the entire scene.

She hid her embarrassment by socking Rory in the chest. “You guys had better watch out. Amy won’t like how you’re talking about her handiwork.”

Rory scowled and grumbled, “Figures. I don’t know why you hang out with that woman. She’s a bad influence.”

Before she could defend her best friend, a warm hand reached out, and suddenly she wasn’t in Rory’s arms anymore. Instead, she was flush against James’s side. He stared down at her with something that looked a lot like adoration mixed with a small amount of sympathy.

“I think you look stunning,” he stated.

She swallowed down the lump that formed in her throat. “James, meet the rest of my brothers.”

He shook each one’s hand as she made the introductions, then, apparently unconcerned with their censorious stares, turned back to her. “Cassandra, would you like something to drink?”

No one called her Cassandra except her mom. She
liked the way it sounded coming from his firm lips. Feeling a little dazed and confused, especially with all her brothers watching, she could only croak out one word. “Coors.”

There was a flicker of surprise, and then he shot her another killer smile before he walked off.

“Oh. My. God. Cassie.” Mattie’s new college coed, Shelly, released a dramatic sigh. “He’s so hot.”

“He’s a smart-ass,” Mattie grumbled.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Melanie chimed in.

“Arrogant,” Jake added.

“Deeelish,” Patrick’s date commented before Patrick whispered something under his breath that was best not repeated.

Cassie watched her tall, dark, and handsome date maneuver through the large room of people, stopping once to ask directions to the bar. The room looked like a boxful of bobbleheads as every person—man and woman—turned to watch him walk by. He might be cocky. And a little arrogant. And even a smart-ass at times. But he was also very hot—absolutely gorgeous—and oh so deeelish.

Unfortunately, she would never find out just how delicious. He was an escort, an expert lover who had probably dipped his wick more times than he could count. Oh Lord, what she wouldn’t give to be a puddle of hot wax.

“So where did you meet this one?” Rory asked.

Cassie took her sweet time in answering, probably because she couldn’t think of a good lie while her date was still in view. When he disappeared around the corner of the living room, she refocused.

“He’s an architect.”

“Really?” Rory sounded impressed. “For what firm?”

Crap. What firm? What firm?
“No one yet. He’s new in town and looking for a job.”

Jake snorted, sounding just like their father. “Which is why he’s hot after you.”

“That’s ridiculous, Jake.” Melanie took her side. “He’s hot after your sister because she’s smart, beautiful, and hardworking.”

And because she is paying him five hundred dollars. Let’s not forget that.

Cassie sent Melanie a smile. “Thanks, Mel. But this is one of our first dates, so I’m really not too worried about whether he’s hot after a job—or my body.” There was a collective sigh of relief from her brothers just as Amy walked up.

She gave Cassie the once-over. “Just as I thought, you look great.” When there was no reply, she looked around. “Doesn’t she look great?”

There was a whole lot of grumbling before the McPherson clan dispersed. All except for Rory, who seemed to be more interested in the black dress that Amy wore. If his angry expression was any indication, he didn’t like it either.

His reaction wasn’t surprising. Since returning from Chicago, he had formed a major aversion to Amy. Which was the complete opposite of how he’d felt when she had first started working for the company. Rory had followed her around like a starry-eyed puppy, and Cassie had hoped that they would get together. Instead, her brother suddenly volunteered to move to the Chicago branch of
M & M and work for Uncle Ryan. Three months later, he’d married Tess, a woman who’d forced Cassie to squeeze into an orange marmalade satin dress with a bow on the back that made her butt look the size of her Aunt Lula’s.

Cassie wouldn’t have minded the dress so much if she had liked the bride. But Terrible Tess was self-centered and vain and the bitchiest wife anyone could ask for. Fortunately, Rory’s life sentence had been cut short when she ran off with her Pilates instructor. Although Cassie was sure her brother didn’t see things the same way she did. The man who moved back to Denver didn’t come close to being the jovial, easygoing brother she’d grown up with.

“So where’s your date?” Amy asked, completely ignoring Rory’s glare.

“Getting me a drink.”

Amy’s eyes widened. “Mr. Tall, Dark, and Hot?”

“How do you know hot?” Rory asked. “You date Derek Terrell.”

Amy reached out to adjust the strap of Cassie’s dress and brush off a bit of invisible lint. “Derek is hot.”