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down here.” One of her heels caught in the thick carpet and she wobbled before Cade caught her arm.

      “Steady.”

      Steady? She’d never been less steady in her life. “No more martinis for me.”

      “They do pack a punch.”

      “So do you.”

      “Now who’s talking like the movies?”

      She laughed. “I’m the client. I’m allowed to do what I want.”

      “What?” Cade came to a stop, fortunately in front of the right door. What the hell was going on? The client? If she was the client, then who did she think he was? What was this all about? To buy himself time to think, he took the card from her hand and unlocked the door.

      Ryan took a deep breath and stepped inside. Across the room, floor to ceiling windows looked out on the Boston skyline and a cool April night. Inside, warm light from a silk-shaded table lamp suffused the room. Ornate gold throw pillows accented a couch covered in soft, muted blues and an armchair pulled up nearby. She tried to ignore the acre of bed beyond.

      On the low oak coffee table, a plate of cheese and grapes sat next to a bottle of cabernet and a pair of cut-glass goblets. “That Helene,” Ryan said dryly, “she doesn’t miss a trick.”

      Cade stepped up behind her to slide her wrap off, staring at her pale shoulders gleaming in the soft light. He wanted to curl his fingers around them and feel her skin against his palms, see if it was as silky soft as it looked. Fill his hands with the hair that flowed down her back, press it to his lips. Feel her move against him. God, it had been so long…

      “Who’s Helene?” he asked.

      Ryan could feel the heat from his body as he stood behind her. Desire pulled at her and she swayed. Touch me touch me touch me drummed through her mind. Strive for sophisticated, she thought. “Helene’s my agent. You have her to thank for the business, you know.” Because her nerves were strained to the breaking point, she moved away and sank down on the soft blue cushions of the couch.

      Business? Agents? Just who was she, Cade wondered, watching her reach toward the tray. She had the lush mouth of an actress, and a body dressed to drive a man wild. She’d talked about it being her first time, but then she’d mentioned spinning tales. Just relax, he thought to himself, ride along with it. “So you said you spin tales. Do you act?” He took the wine bottle and corkscrew that she handed to him.

      Ryan gave a short laugh. “Hardly. I’m a writer. Part of the time, anyway.”

      “What do you write?”

      His hands were long-fingered, capable, and she stared in fascination. “Oh, women’s fiction,” she answered vaguely, watching him twist the cork off of the corkscrew, then handing him a glass. “I’ve got a nasty case of writer’s block and a deadline. My agent thought this would give me inspiration.”

      “Inspiration for what?” Cade asked, his brow creasing in puzzlement as he poured the wine into the cut crystal and handed her a glass. Pouring a glass for himself, he sat on the couch.

      Ryan looked at him impishly. “To the power of inspiration.” She clinked her glass against his.

      “You still have to tell me what for,” he reminded her, then drank, letting the dark flavor of the wine roll over his tongue.

      “For my sex scenes, of course,” she said.

      Cade choked.

      Ryan watched him cough, amused. “What, you don’t think of yourself as an artistic muse?” she asked, watching as he walked over to the windows and back, catching his breath.

      “If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about then no, I don’t,” he said as he came back to the couch. He picked up the glass that he’d set on the table while he was busy coughing up a lung and took a long drink.

      “Well I hope you live up to your billing. This has to be a very hot scene. Helene’s friend said you had the hands and mouth of a god,” Ryan said, and watched him choke again. “You came highly recommended,” she said, then pounded him helpfully on the back. “Should I get you some water?”

      “No, thank you.” Cade cleared his throat and grabbed his glass again. Christ, he definitely needed a drink while he worked out what to do here. All his instincts were telling him to go, not to get involved, but her scent wound around his brain. He started to drink, then lowered the glass. “Do me a favor. Don’t say anything else dangerous while I drink this, okay?” He eyed her warily over the rim as he sipped, then he put it down.

      Ryan popped a grape into her mouth, enjoying herself hugely. She felt desirable, gorgeous…sexy. Power surged through her. She crossed her legs slowly and leaned toward him, resting her arm on the back of the couch. “So what happens now?” Her pulse skittered over the deep, slow burn of arousal. She wanted to feel his hands on her, now. “Isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to start feeding me grapes and having your way with me?”

      Her husky voice and the slow smile that went with the words hit him like a sucker punch. Didn’t this one just beat all, he thought. He wanted her so badly he could feel it pulsing through him, but going along with this charade had the makings of a disaster. He owed it to her to tell her what was going on.

      Yeah, but what did it matter really, asked a soft, persuasive voice in his head. That was the little head thinking for the big head, Cade thought grimly, but he stared at the shadows in the hollow of her neck and listened anyway. She thought she was sleeping with a gigolo. Really, she’d be better off sleeping with him. At least he’d be doing it because he wanted her, not because he wanted money. As far as complications went, well, it wasn’t as though she could be expecting to have a relationship with a gigolo, so it could all begin and end here. He couldn’t lead her on because the very nature of the situation meant that she wouldn’t be expecting anything besides a one-time roll in the hay.

      Besides, if he told her the truth now she’d strangle him.

      Okay, here was the deal, he thought, shutting down the voice. He’d go to the bathroom and figure out some kind of fake excuse, and then he’d go. He’d do the right thing and get up and go. Right then.

      Except that just then he had a hard-on that would hammer nails.

      Ryan was watching him closely. “What’s wrong? You’ve got a really funny look on your face.”

      “I uh…I just remembered that I forgot to bring along any condoms,” he said, and gave himself points. In today’s world it was a pretty valid excuse.

      “Oh.” She fought down a quick surge of disappointment, then paused as she considered some of the alternatives. “And here I thought you were a professional,” she said mockingly. “I guess you’ll just have to think of something special to keep my mind off the fact that I’m not getting the full package, so to speak.”

      He should have known there’d be no easy outs here, Cade thought. He must be out of his mind trying to escape it. Any other single guy would be all over this one in a heartbeat. Any other guy would be all over her in a heartbeat. “Well, it’s actually got me thinking. Based on what you said before, I just…I think you’re doing this for the wrong reasons.”

      “The wrong reasons?” Ryan echoed in bewilderment, her euphoria dying away. “Because I’m paying you for sex for business reasons rather than for personal companionship? You’ve got to be kidding.”

      “I just don’t want this to turn out to be a bad thing for you. We’re having a good time. Why don’t we just leave it at this?”

      Suddenly it felt like every horrid date she’d ever had. Like the worst times with Ross, thinking he wanted her, finding out it was all entirely different than she’d imagined. “I thought we were supposed to have sex,” she snapped. “I didn’t realize that this was a pass/fail interview.” She jumped up and stalked to the wall of windows, leaning against the handrail that ran across

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