Jet Set Confessions

Two

Luke’s first instinct was to grab hold of the woman who had dropped into his lap from out of nowhere. She smiled up at him, and he felt a punch of desire slam into his chest. When she squirmed on his lap, he felt that punch a lot lower.

“What the hell?” He looked into a pair of chocolate-brown eyes and realized she was laughing.

“Sorry, sorry!” She squirmed again, and he instantly held her still. “I guess I stumbled on something. Thank God you were here, or I’d have fallen onto something a lot harder.”

He didn’t know about that. He felt pretty damn hard at the moment. And wet. He felt wet, as the wine she’d been carrying now seeped into his shirt and pants. Even as he thought it, she half turned around, grabbed a cloth napkin and dabbed at the wine splashed across her blouse, then started in on his shirt. If she tried to dry his pants, he was a dead man.

“What’d you trip on?” He glanced down at the floor and saw nothing.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, then shrugged helplessly. “Sometimes I trip on air.”

“Good to know.”

She tipped her head to one side and long, dark brown hair slid across her shoulders. “Are you going to let me up?”

It wasn’t his first thought. “Are you going to fall again?”

“Well, I’m not sure,” she admitted with a grin. “Anything’s possible.”

“Then maybe it’s safer if you stay where you are,” Luke mused, still caught by the smile in those brown eyes of hers.

She started her fruitless dabbing at his shirt again. Not unlike trying to soak up the ocean with a sponge.

“Yeah,” he said, taking the napkin from her. “Never mind.”

“Well, I do feel badly about this,” she said.

“Me, too.”

“In all fairness, though,” she pointed out, “I got plenty of the wine on my shirt, as well.”

“And that should make me happy?”

She shrugged and her dark green off-the-shoulder shirt dipped a bit.

Instantly, his gaze dropped to the full swell of her breasts and he wondered if he’d get more of a look if she shrugged again. When he lifted his gaze to hers, he saw a knowing smile.

A waiter hustled up to them with several napkins, then just stood there as if unsure what his next move should be. Luke could sympathize.

Finally, the waiter asked, “Are you all right, miss?”

“Oh, I’m fine.”

She was fine. He was being tortured but, apparently, no one cared about that.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Barrett. Is there anything I can do?”

“No,” he said grimly. “I think it’s all been done.”

“Well, there is one thing…” His mystery lap dancer spoke up. “My wine’s gone.” She held up the empty glass like it was a visual aid.

“And I know where it went,” Luke muttered.

The waiter looked from Luke to the woman and back again. Still unsure. Still worried. Luke was used to that. He was rich. His family was famous. Most people got nervous around him. And he hated that. So he forced a smile and said, “Would you get the lady another glass of wine, Michael?”

“Certainly. What were you drinking, miss?”

“Chardonnay, thanks. The house wine’s fine.”

Luke frowned and shook his head. “I think we can do better than that, can’t we, Michael?”

The waiter grinned. “Yes, sir.”

When the man left, Luke looked into those chocolate eyes again. “So, since you’re sitting on my lap, I think it’s only right I know your name.”

“Oh, I’m Fiona. Fiona Jordan.” She held out a hand to him.

He glanced at it and smirked. “I think we’ve already moved past a handshake, don’t you?”

“I think we have,” she said. “And since your lap is being so welcoming, maybe I could know your name? Last name Barrett, according to the waiter. First name?”

“Luke.”

She tipped her head to one side and studied him for a long second or two. “I like it. Short. Strong. Sounds like a romance novel hero.”

This had to be the strangest conversation he’d ever had.

Nodding, he confessed, “You found my secret. By day, I’m a tech-toy developer. But at night, I’m a pirate or a lord or a Highlander.”

She gave him a wide grin, and that punch of desire hit him harder. “How is it you know so much about romance novels?”

“My grandmother goes through a dozen every week. I grew up seeing books with half-dressed men and women on the covers scattered around the house.”

“A well-rounded childhood, then.”

Luke thought about that and had to say, she was right. In spite of losing his parents when he was just a child, Luke’s grandparents had saved him. They’d given him normalcy again. Made sure that though his world had been rocked, it hadn’t been completely destroyed.

His lips quirked. “I always thought so.”

“I envy you,” she said simply, and before he could comment, the waiter was back.

Michael hurried up, carrying a glass of wine for Fiona and a refill of Luke’s scotch. He set both glasses on the table and said, “On the house, Mr. Barrett. And again, we’re very sorry about—”

“You don’t have to apologize, Michael,” Fiona told him. “I’m the clumsy one.”

The man winced. “Oh, I wouldn’t say clumsy…”

“That’s because you don’t smell like chardonnay,” Luke put in wryly.

Michael nodded again before he scurried away.

“I think you scared him,” Fiona said as she watched the man rush back to the bar.

“I think you’re the one who scared him. Pretty women can have that effect on a man,” Luke countered.

She turned back and literally beamed at him. “But not you?”

“I’m immune.”

“Good to know,” she said, smiling. “Does that mean I should give up or try even harder to be scary?”

“Oh, definitely keep trying.” Luke grinned. Hell, he liked a woman this sure of herself. Well, to be honest, he just liked women. But a strong, gorgeous one with a sense of humor was right at the top of the list. And this one was more intriguing than most. It had been a long time since a woman had made this kind of impact on him. He laughed to himself at that thought, because she had landed on him with both physical and emotional impacts.

He took a quick look at the whole package. Long, dark brown hair, those chocolate eyes, a wide mouth, now curved in a smile, and a body that filled his mind with all kinds of interesting images. That green shirt looked great on her, and the full black skirt was short enough to showcase some great legs. The mile-high black heels just put the finishing touches on the whole picture. Oh yeah, she could be dangerous.

Even to a man who had no intention of getting into a “relationship,” Luke loved women, and the occasional date or one-night stand was great. But he didn’t have the time or the patience to devote himself to two passions right now. All of his focus had to be on his budding company. So meeting a woman like this one could be problematic.

“So…” Fiona spoke again, and Luke told himself to listen up. “Now that we’re so comfy with each other, what brings you to San Francisco?”

“I don’t know if comfy is the right word,” Luke said wryly, shifting position a bit.

She reached for her wine, but Luke was faster. He handed her the glass. He wasn’t going to risk another wine bath.

“What’s the matter?” she asked. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Since my shirt is still wet from your last glass of wine, I’m going to say no.”

She laughed. “Well, that’s honest, anyway. I like honest. But I have to say, I think it’s time I moved to a chair.”

He reached for his scotch and took a sip. The aged whiskey sent a slow burn through his body that couldn’t even compare to the current blaze centered in his lap. “Yeah, maybe you should.” He knew everyone in the restaurant had to be watching them, and Luke didn’t give a flying damn. Fiona Jordan had broken up his afternoon and brightened a long, boring day, and he was going to enjoy it. In fact, he hadn’t felt this…light since the day before with his grandfather.

Something about her made him forget the things plaguing him and, for that, he was grateful. Just before she’d dropped into his lap, he’d been going over and over again that conversation with Pop. Wondering if he could have handled things better. Hating that the two of them were at such odds.

But this woman with the brilliant smile and the gorgeous legs had changed that—for however long the feeling lasted.

She hopped up, and Luke muffled a groan as she took a seat across the table from him.

He had to admit he was breathing easier, even when she took a sip of her wine, then ran the tip of her tongue across her top lip to catch a stray drop. His gaze locked on that movement and yet one more sharp jab of heat stabbed him. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had attracted him so completely. And while warning bells were going off in the back of his mind, Luke ignored them all.

She took another sip of her wine, met his gaze across the table and asked, “So, what should we talk about?”

His eyebrows arched. “You want to have a conversation now?”

She shrugged. “You want to sit here in silence?”

She had a point. “Fine. Let’s talk.”

“Great.” She took a sip of wine. “You start.”

All he could really think about was what she was doing to him. Hard to come up with a conversational starter beyond Let’s go upstairs to my room. “No. You start.”

“Okay.” She shrugged, and the bodice of her blouse dipped again. “What’re you doing at the hotel?”

“At the moment, trying to keep my mind busy.”

She grinned. “Let me rephrase. Are you from San Francisco?”

“No,” he said. “I’m from Orange County. Newport Beach, specifically.”

She grinned. “We’re practically neighbors, then. I live in Long Beach. So, why are you here?”

“Business,” Luke told her. “I’m here for the tech conference.” Though he hadn’t been enjoying it until she had dropped onto his lap. With all the thoughts racing through his mind—his grandfather, Barrett’s, his own new company, he’d been silently stewing. She’d interrupted all of that.

“Ah.” She nodded and gave a quick glance around the restaurant. “A conference. That explains all of the badges, not to mention the fact that everyone I see has their nose glued to a phone or computer.”

He took a look, too, and had to admit that almost everyone in the dining area was reading a phone or scrolling on a tablet. Even at a table with six people sitting around it, all of them were busy with their own phones. He frowned a little, then shrugged it off. This conference was, as he’d said, for business.

“Guilty,” he said, turning his gaze back to her.

“So if you’re here for the conference, you’re in the tech business, right?”

“I am.” One of the reasons he came to these conferences was that here, he was surrounded by other forward-thinking people like him. People who understood that the future was in binary. “My company makes tech toys.”

“Tech toys?” She tipped her head to one side. “What kind?”

She actually seemed interested, and there was nothing he liked more than to talk about the latest in tech toys. If Pop hadn’t changed his mind, Luke would be even more eager to talk about them. He’d imagined steering Barrett’s into the future. Drawing on their already trusted name in toys to introduce kids to the what was to come. Still, his new company would do all of that. It would just take longer to take off. To get recognition. Luke took the conversational thread and ran with it. “All kinds. From tablets that are user-friendly for toddlers, to gaming boards, video games and miniature robots and drones.” He took a sip of his scotch. “We’ve got a full line of tech toys for every age.”

She laughed again and the sound of it was like champagne bubbles.

“I barely understand my computer now. I can’t imagine a toddler on one.”

“You’d be surprised. Our test groups do very well at color and spatial relations and problem solving on the screen.” He hadn’t been able to convince his grandfather of that, of course. Because Jamison was concerned about pumping too much information into growing minds. But Luke believed that a young, open mind was far more likely to absorb information. And how was that a bad thing?

“There have been dozens of studies to prove that in children as young as one, the brain is like a sponge, soaking up information far faster than it will in the future.”

She shook her head. “My best friend has a toddler whose main focus is eating the dog’s kibble.”

He laughed. “Maybe he needs a tablet.”

“Maybe,” she allowed. “Still, I’m amazed at the idea of babies on computers. But maybe I need a toddler to walk me through running my Word program.”

Luke smiled at her.

“So, I guess ‘tech toys’ means you don’t make bikes and dolls and things?”

His last encounter with his grandfather was still fresh in his mind, so his response was a little sharper than it should have been when he said, “No. The future isn’t made up of dolls and bikes and Frisbees. It’s in electronics.”

She held up both hands in mock surrender. “Whoa. Okay. You convinced me. I give up.”

Luke took a breath and blew it out again, reaching for calm. Wasn’t her fault that his grandfather was suddenly retreating into the past. “Yeah, sorry. Sore spot. My grandfather and I have been going around and around about this.”

“That has to be hard, disagreeing with family.” She sipped at her wine. “Why are you?”

No way was he getting into all of that right now. “Long story.”

She nodded as if she understood he simply didn’t want to talk about it. But then she asked, “All right. But I’m still not convinced that tablets for toddlers are a good idea. Even tiny sponges need a teddy bear.”

He smiled again, glad she’d dropped it. Back on safe ground, ground he knew like the back of his hand, he said, “There are plenty of companies that sell stuffed animals or dolls or whatever else you think a kid should have. But the future for kids today will be in technology, so shouldn’t they get a jump as young as possible?”

She still looked unconvinced. “But toddlers?”

“Sure. If we can get children as young as two involved with electronics, their brains will develop faster, and they’ll be more inclined toward the sciences. That’s a win. For all of us.”

“The sciences.” She smiled. “Like making mud pies in the backyard?”

“You’re a hard sell, aren’t you?” He stared into her eyes and liked the feeling of being pulled in. A damn shame, he thought, that he could have a real conversation about what was important to him with a stranger—but his own grandfather wouldn’t listen.

“I’m just saying that being comfortable with tech at a young age will make them more accepting of it later.” As an example, he said, “We use colors and shapes and sound to get their interest.” He was warming to the theme, as he always did. “They learn without realizing they’re learning. Studies prove out that children who are challenged rise to the occasion more often than not.”

“But aren’t there just as many studies saying that it’s not good to introduce small kids to tech too early?”

“You sound like my grandfather,” he said.

“Thank you?” She laughed a little. “Not trying to argue, I just think that there are two sides to this and maybe your grandfather has a point.”

Luke grumbled under his breath. It wasn’t easy arguing for the future when everyone wanted to cling to the past. “My grandfather won’t even listen to the arguments on this, so it’s pointless to try any further.”

“Have you listened to his side?”

Luke took another sip of his scotch and studied her. He was trying to decide if he should keep talking or change the subject. She took care of that for him.

“It sounds interesting,” she said. “And a little scary.”

Frowning, he sipped at his scotch. Now that too sounded like his grandfather’s argument. “Why?”

“Because I like watching little kids pick dandelions or splash in mud puddles.” She shrugged and took another sip of her wine. “They should be outside, running and playing. Seeing them staring at a screen instead just seems wrong. I mean, once you grow up, you’re always on a computer. Why start before you have to?”

“Because it’s fun?”

“If you say so.” She shook her head and her gorgeous hair slid back and forth across her shoulders. “I have a love-hate relationship with my computer.”

“You like email and the internet, right?”

“Sure. But I hate a full inbox. Drives me crazy.”

“A full inbox means your business is doing well.”

“Except for the spam.”

He brushed that off. “Downside to everything.”

He wondered why he wasn’t as irritated with Fiona as he became with his grandfather when they had pretty much this same conversation. His phone buzzed, and Luke glanced at the screen before shifting it to voice mail. He wasn’t in the position or in the mood to take a call from his grandfather.

“You don’t have to get that?” she asked.

“Absolutely not.”

“Okay, then.” She set her wine down on the table.

His gaze dropped to her fingers sliding up and down the faceted stem of the glass.

Instantly, his body went rock hard again.

“So,” he said abruptly, “since I’m pretty much trapped in this chair for a while, why don’t you stay and have a late lunch with me.”

She chewed at her bottom lip and with every tug of her teeth, Luke felt an answering tug inside him.

Finally, Fiona said, “I suppose that’s fair, since I’m the reason you’re trapped in that chair for a while.”

“You are.” He hadn’t planned on company, but what the hell? Beautiful woman or doing email alone? Not really a contest.

“Okay, then.” She crossed those great legs and swung her right foot lazily. Propping her elbows on the table, she leaned in and smiled. “Feeling better yet?”

He should have been. But he was still hard, and he missed the feel of her lush body plopped on top of his. That probably made him a masochist.

“Strangely enough, no.”

A slow, wide smile curved her mouth. “Just what I was thinking.”

Heat pulsed inside him and fed the flames keeping his dick at full alert. Hell, at this rate, he was going to have to hire someone to walk in front of him just to get out of the damn restaurant.

She picked up her wine, took a sip, then flicked out her tongue again to sweep away another stray drop from her top lip. Fire burning even hotter now, he thought.

“You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?”

Her mouth curved into a smile. “Is it working?”

“Too damn well,” he admitted, and her smile spread further.

When the waiter brought menus, she flipped through hers until she got to the burgers.

Surprised, he asked, “A woman who’s not going for a salad?”

She lifted her gaze to his and shook her head. “That’s completely sexist. You know that, right?”

He shrugged the comment off. “Every woman I’ve ever taken to dinner ordered some kind of salad.”

“Clearly, you’re dating the wrong women.” She closed the menu and folded her hands on top of it. “I’m an unapologetic carnivore. Burgers. Steaks. Love them all.”

Nodding, Luke just looked at her, enjoying the view. “Good to know. And today? Burger or steak?”

“The San Francisco burger, hold the avocado.”

“You don’t like avocado?”

“Ew.” Her features screwed up. “No.”

“I don’t know if I can have lunch with you after all,” Luke said.

Her eyes sparkled. “So you have standards?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“And avocado is one of them?”

“We live in California. Guacamole is a way of life here,” Luke said.

“Not my life,” she assured him. “I love Mexican food, but avocados are a deal breaker. It’s a texture thing. They’re too slimy.”

“Have you tasted one?”

“God, no. I have standards, too.” She grinned and Luke’s insides stirred again.

The waiter came back, Luke gave him their order, then leaned back with his scotch to study the woman who had become the focus of his attention. Her bare shoulders made him think about sliding that pretty green shirt down her arms so he could feast on her breasts. His dick hardened even further, though he wouldn’t have thought that possible, and his hands itched to touch her.

Fiona shifted beneath his steady stare and fought down the rise of heat threatening to engulf her. She seriously had not been prepared for the rush of something…tantalizing that she’d felt the moment she saw Luke Barrett. But how could she have been? All she’d had was his picture and a brief description of where she was most likely to find him.

No one had said his eyes were the color of the ocean on a summer day. Or that he was tall and muscular beneath that well-cut suit or that his hair was too long and sun-streaked. And there was no way she’d expected the deep timbre of his voice to rumble along her spine.

Mostly, though, she hadn’t been prepared for the hot, throbbing ache that had settled between her thighs from sitting on his lap and feeling the hard press of him against her. Just remembering made her squirm a bit in her seat, as if to rekindle the sensation.

But she wasn’t here to “kindle” anything. She was here because she’d given her word to someone. Taken a job. Made a promise. And Fiona always kept her promises.

She smiled because Luke looked at her as if he were trying to read her mind, and she was grateful he couldn’t. Liking him was okay, liking him too much could jeopardize her job and that had to come first. She’d been offered a twenty-thousand dollar bonus if she succeeded. And she needed that money.

With an actual savings account, she could buy a car that didn’t run on hopes and dreams and invest in her own business to help it grow.

“What are you thinking?” His question shattered the thoughts he was asking about.

Fiona had to scramble. “Just wondering how a man gets into tech toys,” she said, and silently congratulated herself on coming up with that so quickly.

He took a sip of his scotch and set the heavy glass tumbler down again. “Started in the family business.” He shrugged. “Recently I went out on my own.”

“Really. Why?”

He gave her a suspicious look. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” she lied. “Just curious. Is this about your disagreement with your grandfather?”

“And why should I feed a stranger’s curiosity?”

“Oh,” Fiona said with a slow smile, “after what we’ve already shared, I don’t think we’re strangers anymore.”

He laughed shortly and inclined his head. “Point taken. Okay, you’re right. My grandfather and I couldn’t see eye to eye.”

“Isn’t there a compromise in there somewhere?”

“Not with Pop. He prefers the past, and I want the future.”

Basically what she already knew. “Sounds dire.”

“No.” One firm shake of his head. “Just business.”

“Even with family?”

“Family adds another layer, but it still boils down to business.” Frowning, he said, “My grandfather and I had a plan. He changed his mind, so I’m going ahead with the plan on my own. Simple.”

“Is it? Simple, I mean.”

“It will be,” he said, nodding to himself.

He clammed up fast after that, and Fiona once again silently warned herself to go slowly. Carefully. His eyes were closed off, shuttered as if he’d erected a privacy wall around his thoughts. And she had a feeling that she’d never get past that wall by using a battering ram. He was clearly a private person, so that would make getting him to open up to her more difficult. And despite what he’d just said, she knew there was nothing simple about his situation.

Yet she had to wonder how he could shut out a grandfather who loved him. Fiona didn’t have family. She had friends. Lots of friends, because she’d set out to create a family. She couldn’t imagine turning her back on a grandfather who loved her.

Wistfully, she wondered briefly what that might be like and wondered why Luke couldn’t see how lucky he was to have the very family he was at odds with.

Their lunch arrived then and they both went quiet as the waiter set the plates in front of them, then filled water goblets.

Luke had ordered the same burger she had, but with avocado. “Sure you don’t want to try it?”

She held out one hand in a “stop” gesture. “Way sure.”

“You could look at this as an opportunity to expand your horizons.”

She laughed. “With an avocado?”

“It’s a start.” His eyes flashed and a new jolt of heat swept through Fiona.

“I think we could find a better place to start expanding those horizons,” she said quietly. “Don’t you?”

He looked at her for a long moment, the heat in his eyes searing every inch of her skin. “I can work with that.”