Her front door opened and her receptionist hissed, "Rachel Noah's here," into her intercom.
"Oh shit," she muttered under her breath. Rachel held the strings to some big new political clients. "Please be nice to her," she begged Ty. "Say all the right things. Just this once."
He raised an eyebrow. "One kiss."
She barely had time to process his request, to understand that a barter was being made.
"Okay. One. Now don't screw this up."
Julie smiled and greeted Rachel just outside her office door. "I'm so glad you're here," she said.
Rachel looked like she'd been sucking lemons. "Amy told my boss that she'll be taking over our account for the next month, and he just screamed at me for an hour. You'd better have a good explanation."
If ever there was a time for Ty's innate charm and good looks to work their magic, it was now. Ty turned from the window and in an instant, Rachel's demeanor changed. She no longer wanted Julie's ass on a platter. She was obviously envisioning a gorgeous NFL superstar in her bed, instead.
"I'd like to introduce you to Ty Calhoun, my newest client."
Julie usually appreciated her own curves. But standing this close to a stick-thin woman who could have been ruling the catwalk in Milan rather than working on political campaigns was more than a little depressing. Ty would naturally want to sleep with Rachel--what man wouldn't?
Though it was ridiculous to even think that way --she had no claim on Ty and she didn't want one. She didn't.
Ty was all charm as he shook Rachel's hand and steered her over to Julie's leather couch.
"Nice to meet you," he said, and Julie thought the woman was going to climax right then and there. "Julie's told me so much about you," he lied, and she shot him a huge look of thanks.
Rachel was strangely mute. It was comforting to know that all women lost their minds around Ty.
"I'm afraid there's been a huge misunderstanding," he continued. "And I'd hate for anyone to blame Julie or her firm for assigning another consultant to your project."
Julie held back a grin as she watched Rachel actively work to pull herself together. No wonder Ty got away with everything; he was irresistible. It was in his DNA.
"I'd be happy to speak with your boss if that will help you out," he offered.
Flirtatiously, Rachel put her hand on his arm. "Would you really? I know what a big fan he is of yours. Maybe we could meet him for dinner and then slip away for a private drink."
Julie almost gagged. She couldn't listen to another second of this nonsense. If the two of them wanted to fuck like bunnies, fine, but not in her office.
She grabbed her leather bag off the floor and shoved several files into it. "Well, I'm so glad you two have met, but I'm afraid Ty and I have a lot of work to do, as you might imagine. And his evenings are completely full for the next two weeks."
Ty walked Rachel out of the office and back into the front reception area. Julie trailed behind. "I'll be looking forward to our drink," Rachel called as she floated out of the front door.
"She's off-limits," Julie warned. "If you leave her high and dry she'll blame me and pull her business."
They headed into the parking lot. "Don't worry. She's not my type."
There he went again. "When will you get it through your thick skull that I'm not interested in you, other than as a client?"
"When you stop acting like you are."
His low, soft voice hit her in all the places she'd been trying to hide from him.
"Don't think I've forgotten, Julie. You owe me a kiss. That was the bargain."
Her heart sped up. "Fine. Let's get it over with," she said as if she couldn't have cared less.
Just barely, she resisted the urge to purse her lips together and peck him on the cheek like a two-year-old. Even she knew that wasn't the deal they'd made back in her office when Rachel came barreling in.
"Come here," he said, and she wanted him to kiss her more than she'd ever wanted something before.
"Not here. Not in the parking lot."
"Right here. In the parking lot." His eyes held hers. "Now."
She couldn't argue with him. Not when this was his kiss to claim. The thing was, they hadn't really kissed in his underground lair. Yes, he'd made her come, but there had been a challenge behind it, a game of dominance.
This was going to be their first real kiss in ten years. And Julie knew there wasn't a damn thing she could do to prepare herself for the way it was bound to make her feel.
She walked slowly over to her car where he was standing. When she was within arm's reach he held out his hand, and she didn't know what else to do but let him pull her close. One hand circled her rib cage, the other softly caressed her nape, gently cupping the back of her head.
"You have a great mouth," he said, and the unexpected compliment surprised her so much that she forgot to keep her guard up when he moved his lips down to hers.
She felt his breath and closed her eyes. And then, oh God, his lips touched hers and all she wanted was to taste him. To have him taste her. His lips were warm and soft and perfect, and before she knew what she was doing, her tongue was in his mouth and her hands were in his hair and she was pulling him closer. She wanted more than just one kiss, so much more.
He sucked at the sensitive flesh of her lower lip, making shivers run down her spine. His erection pressed into her belly and she pressed against it, wanting more, so much more.
This one simple kiss had turned into a full-blown addiction.
Suddenly, ruthlessly, she dragged her mouth away from his, pushed against his chest, and unsteadily backed up.
What could she say to make him think his kiss hadn't meant as much to her as it obviously had? She had to say something he couldn't argue with. Otherwise, she had a feeling he'd argue her right into bed.
"I have a date tonight," she declared as she unlocked the car. Thankfully, it was true. How embarrassing it would have been if she'd had to make up a phantom date to seem like she wasn't a total loser.
"Great," he said, looking like he kissed women into delirium all day long without a second thought. "Looking forward to it."
Her keys missed the ignition by a mile.
"Are you crazy? You're not coming on my date!" Then she remembered that she'd told Bobby she wouldn't let Ty out of her sight. "Oh God. Of course you are."
He leaned back against the passenger seat. "I'm sure I could find some other way to entertain myself while you're gone."
Julie started the car. "Oh, I think going on my date tonight will be entertainment enough," she said darkly.
Ty was very pleased about moving into Julie's little house at the top of Noe Valley for the next couple weeks. But tagging along with her on a date was a bit much--especially since he already wanted to pound the unknown guy's head into the ground.
He lounged on her couch and flipped through the channels. She'd muttered something about needing to get some work done, threatened him with, "Don't you dare to even open my front door or I'll hunt you down and kill you with my bare hands and maybe a sharp knife," then disappeared into her home office. He'd made some calls to his friends to let them know he was going to be busy for a while with some business stuff, chatted with his agent about the pretty public picture he was going to create for Bobby and the Outlaws, then got bored.
And lonely.
Ty couldn't think of the last time he'd had more than fifteen minutes to himself. His house was a constant scene. The party from the night before continued by the pool the next day in an endless cycle. And until yesterday, he hadn't been down into his sanctum for months.
Silence made him restless. When he was with other people he could just sit and listen to them talk. It was easy to live up to their expectations of him. It wasn't quite as easy to figure out what his own expectations were, so he'd quit trying. But for some reason, he cared about what Julie thought. He wanted to show her she was wrong about him.
He turned the TV off and wandered over to a book
case. Why should he care if she thought he was a worthwhile human being? He made a lot of money for a lot of people--the Outlaws, his agent. He gave more money away than anyone would ever guess to charity, to friends in need, and through the team.
But he was pretty sure Julie already knew all that, and wasn't impressed. She didn't think he was capable of being a gentleman.
He sneered at the word as he picked up a weathered copy of The Great Gatsby, one of his favorite books. Then he lay down across her couch, his legs hanging over the end. Girly couches and pro football players were rarely a good fit. This one was pretty damn comfortable, even though it could have used three more feet in length.
He was heading into the story's climax a couple hours later when he looked up and realized Julie was standing in the doorway. Actually, she was staring at the book in his hand. She probably didn't think he could read, that the books in his underground den were merely stage props.
But he couldn't work up any indignation. Not when she looked so damn good.
"Is that what you're wearing?"
She pulled her gaze away from the book, ran her fingers through her soft blonde waves, then pushed her shoulders back.
"No, this is what I throw on to make a sandwich. I'll get dressed for my date later."
Ty was too busy looking at her to pay attention to her sarcastic remark.
Fuck, she was gorgeous. The little red lacy thing she was wearing gave the impression of being see-through. It was the kind of dress that guys would be staring at all night to see if they could maybe, just maybe, see something they weren't supposed to.
Yet she didn't look at all trashy; far from it. Julie couldn't pull off slutty if someone held a gun to her head. On her a strapless red dress and fuck-me heels were sexy yet classy.
"You look amazing."
Her big blue eyes flashed surprise and Ty realized that he liked surprising her. A lot. He'd finally done something to make her feel good, rather than angry and irritated with him.
"I hope this guy is worth it."
So much for the nice moment, he thought as she spun around and went into the kitchen. He followed her in and opened her fridge.
"Make yourself at home," she said, full of snark again.
"Might as well," he said as he moved bottles of organic juice around. "You got anything in here that might not get me labeled 'pussy' on the playground?"
"I don't drink," she said, prim as a nun.
A new fantasy immediately popped into his head. Once he got her into his bed, maybe he could convince her to play the highly-fuckable-nun-who-has-decided-to-make-a-break-from-everything-she-knows-in-an-indecent-red-dress-and-stiletto-heels role. Now there was some nice imagery. Very nice.
"You shouldn't, either," she added as his cock got harder beneath the zipper of his jeans. It took him several seconds to figure out what she was talking about. "Since your body is your job and all, I can't see how alcohol helps."
He grabbed a bottle of organic carrot juice, unscrewed the top, then drank straight from the bottle. A look of distaste crossed her face. She really was too easy.
He took the now-empty container over to the sink and rinsed it out. "I agree with you."
That made her pause. "Then why do you drink?"
"I don't."
Ah, there was that surprise again.
"You actually expect me to believe that you go to strip clubs sober?" She shook her head. "You're nuts."
She didn't need to know that he'd stopped drinking ten years ago. The morning she'd walked away and never turned back.
"My father was a drunk."
She nodded. "I know. But I guess I thought. . ."
The doorbell rang, and all the things Ty wanted to say were lost in his sudden rage at the asshole on the other side of the door who thought he could touch Julie.
For the next two weeks, Julie was off limits.
To everyone except him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
There were many reasons why this date-plus-one should have been mortifying: The fact that Ty got to meet a guy she'd liked enough to have dinner with; that she had to explain to Dave that Ty was accompaning them to the restaurant for business reasons; that the owner of the packed restaurant had no trouble whatsoever finding a larger table for "the great Ty Calhoun and his friends" even though there was a two-hour-wait out on the sidewalk; and that Dave was quite possibly the world's biggest Outlaw fan and knew every significant play Ty had made since college, seemed to have memorized their playbook, and hadn't so much as looked at Julie after she'd opened the door.
But the most mortifying thing of all was that Ty cearly felt so sorry for her that he kept coming to her rescue.
For the past hour she'd counted bites, then chews, then sips of water, because even those were more interesting than Dave's incessant football chatter.
Finally, Ty cut him off. "Did you know Julie and I went to high school together?" Uh-oh.
Dave's mouth opened, making him look like a fish on a hook. What had she ever seen in him?
"Oh man, I can't believe you actually witnessed Ty's moves when he was a teenager. That must have been awesome."
She shook her head. "I didn't go to any football games."
Dave's big mouth grew impossibly bigger. "You missed watching one of the greatest high school players of all time in action? What were you thinking?"
What a total jerk. "Do you really want to know what I was thinking, Dave? Or would you rather ask Ty instead?" she asked sweetly.
Dave blinked in confusion. "Okay." He turned to Ty. "Why didn't she go to football games?"
Ty looked impossibly handsome in the dim light, and Julie was sure every woman in the restaurant was having an orgasm over him. She didn't know how he did it, let all those people stare at him, probe at him. She liked her privacy and couldn't imagine giving it up.
"Julie hates football," Ty told Dave.
"Are you crazy?" he squeaked, a very unattractive sound from a man.
Ty answered for her. "Not everyone likes sports. You've got to respect the fact that people are different, that they have their own interests." Ty turned away from the bumbling fool. "Who is your favorite novelist, Julie?"
Something within her sparked into life. "Alive or dead?"
"Dead."
"Jane Austen."
"Painter. Dead."
"Mary Cassat."
"Musician. Dead."
"Johnny Cash."
He laughed. "Really?"
She shrugged, smiling for the first time all night. "I've always been a sucker for a rebel."
Who would have thought Ty could be so nice? That he'd actually care about her interests, that he wouldn't hold it against her that she didn't know what a safety was?
Clearly, though, Dave didn't care for the new topic of conversation. "What are your plans for next season, Ty?"
Ty waved over the waiter. "I think we're done here. Thanks." He handed him a credit card.
Turning to her loser of a date, he said, "First, I'm going to get to bed early tonight."
Dave nodded, happy to bask in the glow of his hero, not realizing that his moment of glory had just come to an end.
The waiter quickly returned and Ty signed the bill, then held out a hand to Julie. She gladly accepted it and let him pull her toward him.
He whispered," Say good night, be nice, and whatever you do, don't invite him back to your house."
His words were soft and comforting, rather than bossy.
Dave followed at Ty's heels like a puppy dog following its master. Forcing herself to be polite, Julie smiled and said, "It's been a lovely evening, Dave, but I'm afraid I've got an early day ahead of me tomorrow. Good night."
Not surprisingly, he barely blinked in her direction. "Fine. Great. So, Ty, you up for getting a beer? I could call some friends to meet us."
A muscle jumped in Ty's cheek and his voice turned cold. "Sorry to disappoint, buddy, but I've got a beautiful woman waiting for me to take her home."
Julie's heart pounded. She didn't need Ty to be her knight in shining armor. Yet it felt so good to hear him call her beautiful.
Dave shook his head admiringly. "Wow, you must get all the babes. Who is she?"
A sneer curled Ty's lips and Julie was taken aback, accustomed to the carefree grin that drove everyone wild.
"We're keeping our relationship under wraps," he said. "She's not convinced I'm good enough for her yet."
As Dave's mouth dropped open again, Ty put his big palm on the small of Julie's back and guided her through the front door, then out around the corner.
Perfectly happy to go wherever Ty was leading her if it meant getting away from that uber-jerk, she was surprised to find that he'd just steered her into a tiny pizza joint.
"Two slices with everything on 'em and a pitcher of Coke," he told a passing waiter, then pushed her into a carved wooden booth and shoved in next to her. "Please tell me that was a blind date."
Her stomach was grumbling. The waiter slid two enormous pizza slices onto the table. She picked one up and inhaled.
"I wish." She took a bite. And then another. "God, this is good."
Julie couldn't deny how nice it was to have Ty's warm, hard body pressed up against her in the little booth. He was watching her eat, his eyes moving from her mouth, to her throat, to the tops of her breasts on display in her red dress.
She felt like an idiot for even bothering to dress up for a dud like Dave, but at the same time, part of her was happy she'd looked good. Foolishly, she liked it when Ty looked at her. Liked it even better when he was enticed by what he saw.
She looked down at her empty plate, then at his full one. She'd been raised always to be a lady. And a lady never ate more than a man, never raised her voice, never put herself in an untenable position.
Thus far with Ty, Julie had done all three. And the strangest thing was, she wasn't the least bit ashamed of any of it. In fact, she felt downright good.
"You gonna eat that?" she asked, swiping his slice before he could answer.
"Few things are sexier than a woman who eats," Ty murmured, and his words felt like a caress. Her nipples hardened beneath the thin fabric of her dress.
She gulped down some soda, then wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand. God, she loved how free she suddenly felt.