Tempting (7 page)

A request to see a manager could mean anything from a tirade to praise for exceptional service. Things ran smoothly enough at Bella Roma that Dani wasn't worried.

She rounded the corner and was halfway through her “Hi, I'm Dani Buchanan. How may I help you?” when she recognized the lone diner. The power suit was familiar as were the dark eyes and stubborn jaw.

“This is a surprise,” she told Alex Canfield.

“I heard the food was good.”

She glanced at the menu in his hand. “I take it you haven't ordered. Would you like a few suggestions?”

“Are you going to spit on my food before they bring it to me?”

She grinned. “It depends on why you're really here.”

“Maybe I just want to get to know you.”

“Oh, please. I may not have gone to law school and lost my humanity, but I'm not an idiot.”

“You went to Cornell, which is tough to get into, and I never said you were an idiot.”

As she stared down at him, it occurred to her she wasn't disappointed he'd shown up at the restaurant. Interesting. She also noticed she sort of enjoyed bantering with him. They were both verbal and quick.

But he hadn't answered the question—why was he here?

“Being an idiot was implied,” she said.

He motioned to the chair across from his. “You could join me.”

“Or I could not.”

He glanced around at the dining room. “It's after nine. Your dinner crowd has left. Have dinner with me. We'll get to know each other. I'll even let you pick the topics we discuss.”

Somehow she doubted that. He'd been less than friendly the last time they'd been together. She was ambivalent—understanding his need to protect his family and hating that she was considered the enemy. Still, she pulled out a chair and sat down. “I want to order the food,” she told him.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“And the wine.”

“Will you cut my food into tiny pieces and feed me, as well?”

“Only if you have bad table manners.”

Eddie walked over and looked at her.

“Mr. Canfield and I will be having dinner together, Eddie.” Dani placed the order, picking her favorites, then chose a bottle of Leonetti Cellar Sangiovese.

“Nice,” Alex said when Eddie left. “The wine's a little pricey.”

“It's worth it. Besides, you're rich. You can afford it.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You're assuming I'm buying.”

“You did the inviting.”

“This is your place.”

“Fine. You can take advantage of my employee discount.”

He nodded. “I appreciate that.” He passed her the bread basket. “How are you enjoying your job here?”

The implication being it was a new job. She wasn't surprised he knew that—no doubt dragon-boy had investigated every aspect of her life.

“I like it a lot. Bernie and his mother are great. I know Mama Giuseppe makes everyone crazy, but I think she's very entertaining. The kitchen staff are terrified of her. I like the food, the staff and the regulars. I hope to be here a long time.”

“Why the restaurant business?” he asked.

“I never thought about doing anything else. I grew up as a Buchanan. I want to say it's in my blood, but I guess that isn't true. It's what I know. Why did you go to law school?”

“My soul was getting in the way of being a ruthless bastard. I knew they'd suck it out of me.”

She glared at him. “I answered
your
question seriously.”

“Fair enough. I wanted to do the right thing. Be on the right side of the law. For that, I needed to understand it.”

That surprised her. “You consider yourself an idealist?”

“Why not?”

“You're in corporate law and you're working on a presidential campaign. Is there idealism left in either place?”

“Democracy is alive and well.”

“So is the need to raise millions of dollars for nearly every kind of campaign.”

“We can still make a difference, either on a local and individual basis, or nationally and globally.”

He was serious. She hadn't expected that.

“I'm getting worried,” she admitted. “I don't want to have to like you.”

“I'm totally charming.”

“Not to me.”

“It's a subtle charm.”

“Apparently.”

Eddie appeared with the bottle of wine. After he opened it, she hesitated, as if not sure who would do the tasting. Alex gestured to Dani. “Please. It's your party.”

She nodded at Eddie, who poured her a sample. Dani swirled, inhaled, then tasted. “Excellent,” she said. “Thanks.”

Eddie poured, then left.

Alex sipped the wine. “Nice,” he said.

“I like it.” She eyed him. She had a feeling she knew the reason for his visit. So did his friendliness mean she was Mark's daughter or not?

“You're being nice, in a twisted kind of way,” she said, deciding there was no reason to be subtle. “It's been two days. You have the results. I'm trying to decide how your presence here and attempts to get to know me figure into things.”

His humor faded. “It's a match. You're Mark Canfield's daughter.”

Dani set down her wineglass and braced herself for a flood of emotion. There wasn't any. Not elation or happiness or even an internal “golly wow.” There was nothing.

“Okay,” she said slowly, wondering if the feelings were going to be delayed. “Good to know.”

“Are you going to the press?”

The blunt, almost rude question didn't surprise her. This was the Alex Canfield she remembered.

“What do you think?” she asked. “You've had plenty of time to delve into my background, interview my friends and tap my phone. Am I going to the press?”

She couldn't read his dark eyes. His body language was relaxed as he took a sip of the wine. He could have been mulling over how his stock portfolio had performed that day, or developing a way to murder her and leave her body in the woods.

How did this impact him? He was Mark Canfield's oldest son…by adoption. She was Mark's biological child. Did Alex have any feelings about that? Did he resent her or wasn't she significant enough to generate emotion?

“You have money, or at least access to it,” Alex said at last. “So that's not why you came looking for the senator. I don't think it was for publicity, either.”

“Grudging, but there it is,” she murmured as she took a slice of bread and spread on garlic butter. “Acceptance. I'm touched. Deeply. I might even tear up.”

“I have reason to be suspicious,” he told her. “Your timing, for one thing.”

“I contacted the senator within days of finding out he might be my father.”

“So you say.”

She sighed. “I like you better when you're not assuming the worst about me.”

“Do you know what a scandal could do to the campaign?” he asked. “How you could destroy everything we've been working toward?”

She tilted her head. “If I'm just in it for notoriety, don't I have a built-in reason for wanting to keep the news to myself? Wouldn't I have more fun with Daddy as president?”

“Interesting logic.”

“I'm an interesting person.”

He shrugged. “So it seems.”

Okay—
that
was unexpected. Was it possible that, despite everything, dragon-boy liked her? She found herself warming to the thought.

She leaned toward him. “Admit it. You might have been wrong about me. I just might be an okay person.”

“Maybe.”

“Probably.”

“I'll accept that.”

He shook his head and grinned. “You're not easy, are you?”

“Never,” she said, but she wasn't really focused on her answer. Instead she found herself caught up in what Alex's smile had done to his expression. For a brief second, he'd seemed approachable and funny and sexy as hell.

Interest perked up and stretched. Anticipation sniffed the air. Heat rolled over and made her insides quiver.

Dani recognized the signs. Attraction to a man. Something she'd sworn off of. No way, no how, not ever. Or at least until she stopped picking the wrong guy.

Alex might not be a lying, cheating weasel or an until recently ordained-into-service-to-God kind of guy, but he was the adopted son of her newly discovered biological father and deeply involved in said man's campaign for president. Getting involved was not remotely logical or sensible or even sane.

Not that it mattered. He wasn't the least bit interested in her. He probably didn't actually realize she was female. She was simply an impediment with a name.

So she did what made sense—she ignored her hormones, pretended Alex was charming, but gay, and leaned in to enjoy a yummy dinner accompanied by a great side of dragon baiting.

 

“Y
OU CAN'T REALLY
believe that,” Alex said as Eddie cleared the dessert plates.

“Why not?” Dani asked, humor brightening her hazel eyes. “The rich can afford it. Having everyone who makes over five hundred thousand a year financially sponsor a poor child makes perfect sense.”

She was bullshitting, he thought, both frustrated and amused. She was smart and quick, but determined to find every button he had and stomp on it.

“I'm changing the subject,” he said. “You're not being serious.”

“Is serious required?”

“It helps.”

“You're a little stuffy. I think it's the lawyer thing. We should—” She glanced at her watch. “Yikes. I'm keeping staff here late. That's not good.”

He checked the time and saw it was after eleven. How had that happened? He would have guessed they'd been there an hour at most.

Dani stood. “I hate to make you eat and run, but I've got to get everyone out of here or they'll hate me forever. Dinner's on me.”

He rose. “I don't think so.”

“Don't get all macho on me, Alex. Seriously. Bernie won't even let me pay for it, so we're good. I appreciate you stopping by. Now leave.”

“Ever gracious. When do you go home?”

“In about fifteen minutes.”

“I'll wait.”

She frowned at him. “Why?”

“I'll walk you to your car. It's late. You shouldn't go to your car alone.”

She rolled her eyes. “I do it every time I work dinner, yet I've managed to survive. I appreciate the offer, but I'm good.”

He shrugged into his suit jacket. “I'll wait.”

She sighed. “I recognize that stubborn tone of voice. Fine. You can sit by the door.”

“I live to serve.”

“If only that were true.”

He used the time to check his cell phone. There was a call from his mother.

He called back on her private line, which only rang in her office. If she'd already gone to bed, it wouldn't disturb her.

“You're working late,” he said when she answered.

“So are you.”

“I just finished dinner.”

“A campaign dinner,” she said. “You're working too hard.”

He hesitated, then decided not to tell her otherwise. “I could say the same about you.”

“Then we both need to reform. You mentioned you might come by later?”

“It would be close to midnight.”

“I'll be up another hour at least.”

“Then I'll be by.”

He hung up just as Dani walked toward him with her purse over her shoulder. She wore a fitted red dress that emphasized her curves but covered her completely. It was a combination designed to make a man crazy.

He'd done his best to be immune to her physical charms, but he'd noticed all of them. The curves, the big eyes, the easy smile.

“Are you armed?” she asked. “Are we going to fight our way to my car, do you think? What about snipers? We could scurry along the perimeter of the building. Of course you're so big and strong, I don't really have to worry.”

She was making fun of him. It should have bugged the hell out of him. Instead he found himself wanting to lean in and kiss her.

Kiss her? Where had that come from? Sure she was pretty and sexy and funny, but so what? He wasn't interested. Not in
her.
She was the enemy, or at the very least, a big problem. Yet once the thought shot into his head, he couldn't seem to let it go.

“We'll risk the snipers,” he said as he pulled open the door.