Hollywood Temptation Page 11

  He gave the horn a blast and her face appeared at one of the nearby windows as she gave him a wave.

  It was a warm evening with no need for a jacket. Which was just as well, as a jacket would have totally ruined the effect.

  Selena glided out from the front entrance. Her semisheer, white costume fluttered in the early evening breeze, the slits in the side giving a hint of flesh. The folds of the costume did nothing to hide the shape beneath it. From the wrist-length sleeves to the high-neck and hooded gown cinched in at the waist with a white leather belt. Her toes peeked out from leather sandals. Every part of her was essentially covered, but he’d never seen anything quite so sexy. Her hair was wound in buns in either side of her head and although she was blonde instead of a brunette, it was like every teenage boy’s fantasy.

  He climbed out to open the door for her. It was as well he’d been given a heads-up by Lucille about what she was wearing. But he hadn’t quite imagined the effect.

  “Good evening, Princess. That’s quite some costume.”

  Her gaze ran up and down his body, and she reached up to touch the curling hairs peeking out from his cream placket V-neck shirt and black pocket vest. “Good evening, Han. Is that a blaster in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

  He whispered in her ear. “You told me Star Wars was your favorite film. I’m only trying to keep you happy. Now, get in, Selena, or I’ll show you exactly how happy I am to see you. We’ve a fund-raiser to attend.” He could feel the reaction in his body. He placed his hand on the small of her back, the warmth of skin burning through the thin fabric.

  This was going to be a long, long night.

  If this were any other charity than Helen’s House, he would ditch it right now and throw her over his shoulder.

  Selena still hadn’t moved. “So, what’s with the monster truck?”

  He grinned. He’d wondered what her reaction would be. It wasn’t exactly the typical plastic surgeon’s car. “Are you surprised? Were you expecting some low-slung sports convertible?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know what I was expecting. But it certainly wasn’t this.”

  “Need a boost up?” He was only half joking. It might not be a monster truck, but it was darn near close.

  “It’s okay. I’m quite capable.” She put her leg up on the running board and giving him a flash of a whole host of calf and thigh.

  He gulped as he slammed the door behind her. A lightly tanned leg with gold laces around it was doing nothing to quell the swelling in his groin.

  “So, who is the blabbermouth?”

  He gunned the engine and started down the driveway heading out to the highway. He nodded slowly. “Blabbermouth. That’s an interesting expression.”

  “You know what I mean. Tattletale. Gossipmonger.” She laid her hand on his arm. “Who told you what I was wearing? Because I don’t believe for a second you dreamed up Han Solo by yourself.”

  “Would you have preferred I come as Chewbacca or Jabba the Hutt?”

  She let off a peal of laughter. “Oh, I’d love to see you as Jabba the Hutt. I’d pay to see that.”

  He tapped the side of his nose. “I never reveal my sources. Let’s just say someone gave me a hint what to wear.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Lucille?”

  He nodded. “Lucille.”

  She looked at him through her thick eyelashes. “This actually isn’t my favorite Princess Leia costume.”

  “It isn’t?” Now, he was curious. And he could tell by the wicked smile on her lips exactly what she was doing. Images of a gold, skimpy bikini were flashing before his eyes, and he prayed she had it on underneath. “What’s your favorite Princess Leia costume?”

  Her face was the picture of innocence. Did this woman have any idea how good a tease she was? Every teenage boy in the world had fantasies about Princess Leia once they’d watched the film. Colt was no different, except his teenage-boy fantasies had turned into real-life adult ones.

  “My favorite’s definitely in the Throne Room in the final scene of the original Star Wars. Gorgeous white dress, beautiful necklace, and an ornate silver belt.” She raised her eyebrows. “Every girl’s dream. I bet that’s your favorite, too.”

  She knew. She knew exactly what she was doing. She might as well have projected the gold bikini into his head, then try and wipe it out with another white, sultry dress.

  He nodded slowly. “Oh, I think my favorite would be pretty much whatever one you wore.” Safe territory. And with the pictures his brain was currently concocting, he wouldn’t be there for long.

  “What did you dress up as last year?”

  “Why?”

  “I’m curious.”

  He shifted in his seat. He had a bad feeling about where this could lead. “Zorro.” He kept his eyes fixed on the road.

  “And did you have a Catherine Zeta Jones?” The question was simple enough, but there was slight edge in her voice. Was she jealous?

  Colt wanted to cringe. He had brought a date last year. And she’d worn the red bodice and costume to great effect. But it had all fizzled out quickly. She didn’t have the spark, good humor, or intelligence of Selena. He changed the subject rapidly. “Have you been to the Rubenstein Hotel before? It’s gorgeous. We’ve used it the last four years for the fundraiser.”

  “Really.” Her voice could cut glass, and it wasn’t really a question. It was a statement that she knew he’d clearly avoided the question.

  “Wait till we get inside. You’ll love it.” He talked smoothly for the rest of the journey, trying to avoid the pictures dancing around his head of his “partner” last year standing on a chair and stripping her red-bodice dress off to the whoops of the crowd. Sometimes a free bar was not a good idea.

  She pointed to the pager on the dashboard. “Do you need that tonight?”

  He gave a regretful shrug. “Yep. My turn to be on call for Helen’s House. No alcohol for me tonight.”

  They pulled into the parking lot and Colt hid his smile at the double take from the valet. “Park your car, sir?”

  “Of course.” He left the engine running and walked around to open the door for Selena. It only felt gentlemanly to reach up and catch her around the waist and lift her down.

  If only those gentlemanly feelings would stop translating to his groin.

  He had to do something to lighten the tension between them. This was supposed to be fun. “Let’s get inside. You’re going to love this place.”

  As usual, the staff at the Rubenstein Hotel had gone all out for the fundraiser. They never failed to deliver. It was a fest of gorgeous decor. Parts of castles decorated one corner of the room, with thrones and shields and swords along the wall. Another corner of the room had been transformed into a space-age theme, another a circus tent, and the final corner was covered in everything pink and fairylike. Depending on which part of the room they were in, the lighting changed from flickering candlelight to green or pink bulbs, giving everyone in the room a strange glow. As usual, the punch bowls and cocktail bar at either end of the grand hall were the leading attractions. The beautifully laid-out buffet in the middle of the room was getting barely a glance.

  Colt put his arm around Selena’s waist, his hand settling on the curve of her hip as he guided her to the bar. “Would you like a cocktail?” He lifted the menu and handed it to her.

  She rolled her eyes. “Ringmaster’s Whip, Princess Paradise, or Space-age Encounter. Nice-sounding drinks.” She leaned across the bar to the waiter who, much to Cole’s annoyance, was staring at Selena’s getup like a teenage boy. “Can you give me whatever they’re calling the strawberry daiquiri for the fund-raiser?”

  The waiter blended the crushed ice, strawberries, rum, lime juice, and strawberry schnapps. “We’re calling this The Knight’s Blood.” He garnished the drink with a mini-sword speared through a strawberry.

  “Lovely,” Selena said, then took a long draw through the straw. “Thanks very much.” She gave the waiter a win
k and turned to face the crowd. “So, I’m officially here as a Seacliffe employee. What are my instructions for the night? Who do I have to schmooze with? Anyone but Josh. Oh look, there he is.” She gave a shudder as she recognized the costume. A whole black body suit, a breastplate with a complex network of plastic hoses, and a painted, busted sports helmet, sprouting wires and part of a vacuum-cleaner tube. Along with eerily white face paint it was a real showstopper.

  She gaped. “Wow. The Borg from Star Trek. Terrifying.” She screwed up her face as she tried to see Helen’s costume. She looked fabulous, her hair swept up into a bun and sporting the burgundy costume of the Voyager Captain Kathryn Janeway. Her hand went to her mouth. “Helen’s dressed as Kathryn Janeway?” She turned to Colt. “Is everyone at Seacliffe a sci-fi fan?” Her finger reached up and touched his collar. “And here I was thinking it was just you and me.”

  He caught the twinkle in her eye and private look she gave him. It made him want to grab her by the arm and hustle her straight outside, fund-raiser or not.

  Colt looked over to the entrance where Helen and Josh were reveling in the reactions to their outfits. “They coordinated their costumes. It’s effective, isn’t it?”

  She looked at him coyly. “Anyone would think it was a plan. What is it with you folks and the old sci-fi theme? Doesn’t anyone dress up as a witch anymore?”

  He laughed. “You were the one that picked Princess Leia.”

  “True. But I didn’t know sci-fi was the clinic theme.” She looked over at Helen Ridgeway. “The woman doesn’t like me anyway. I’m staying out her road.”

  Colt shook his head. “What does that mean?”

  Selena laughed and turned back to face him, putting her hand on his chest. His body reacted instantly to the heat from her palm, blood rushing to the surface of his chest, and to other places, too.

  “I sometimes forget who I’m talking to. It’s a Scottish expression. It means I’ll be staying away from her.”

  He liked when she laughed. Particularly when she threw her head back to do it and revealed the golden expanse of her neck. There were too many darn folds in her costume. The parts skimming her body were revealing, giving a hint of something without giving too much away.

  Enough to drive a man plain crazy.

  Her gaze swept around the room. “Okay, fill me in. How many of the women in this room are your exes?”

  His drink caught at the back of his throat and he spluttered. Straight to the point. Exactly what he liked about her.

  He laughed. “You don’t actually want to know that, do you?”

  She folded her arms. “Sure, I do. I don’t want to be attacked by some jealous ex in the ladies’ room. I like to be prepared.”

  He shook his head and glanced across the room. “There are a couple of women in the room that I’ve dated. But nothing serious. Not at all. And more importantly, I don’t want you doing anything to mess up that costume.” He didn’t say the rest of his words playing around in his mind. Some women were more than a little superficial. There was never a truer saying than beauty was only skin deep. Colt’s body was the walking example of that and some women couldn’t handle anything less than perfection. What if Selena didn’t like what she found underneath his designer clothes?

  She took a sip from her straw. He tried not to focus on her lips, but it was almost as if she knew he was watching. Her tongue came out and ran along them, making them glisten in the dim lights. “You don’t?”

  “No. I definitely don’t.”

  Her eyes flicked to the left. “What about Helen?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “What about Helen?”

  “What will she say about the fact that we’re together? Did you tell her you only invited me as part of the staff?”

  “Did I?” He moved closer and put a hand on her hip, the thin material did nothing to hide the warmth of her skin. He could only imagine how silky smooth it felt underneath.

  She lifted her hand and placed it on his shoulder, pulling him a little closer. “I’m not sure, Colt; we didn’t really discuss it.” Her voice was low. “Want to let me in on the secret?”

  He’d every intention of letting her in on his plans—just not in public. His plans were only for two. “What I do in my time is none of Helen’s business. She knows that.” He leaned forward and murmured in her ear. “And I don’t believe we signed an official contract.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “So, that’s how you’re getting around it.”

  Yep. And Helen couldn’t argue with it. Selena hadn’t signed a contract with terms of employment. Thank goodness. It had been a verbal agreement and that was good enough for him.

  He made to walk over to the bar, and she grabbed his arm. “Oh no you don’t. Don’t leave me here unguarded. Josh is doing the rounds, and I don’t want to have to listen to him.”

  “You really don’t like him, do you?”

  “Do you?”

  He shook his head. “No. I don’t like him much at all.”

  She lifted her hand and pointed to Josh, who was standing a few people away. “I mean, what does he actually do?”

  Colt shrugged. He’d already made his feelings clear about this to Helen. But it wasn’t really something he should discuss with someone from the clinic.

  Selena’s eyes narrowed as she watched him. He could almost hear the whirring of her brain. “Do you actually know how many thousands of dollars of receipts he owes the clinic for expenses?”

  “What?” Colt felt a chill sweep over his body. He tried not to think about Josh at all. “I heard you ask him for receipts. I assumed it wouldn’t be for much. Want to tell me the amount?”

  She murmured a figure and his mind boggled. What? He’d never really had much to do with the day to day running of the clinic. Maybe he should be paying more attention. He couldn’t imagine why Josh would need to be reimbursed for costs like those. “Leave it with me.”

  Selena faced him and his attention was instantly back on her. The Josh stuff could wait. He would file it into the back of his head and follow it up later.

  “What do you say we do the clinic thing for a while, then we get out of here?” He let his words hang in the air.

  She moved her head. There it was again. A reveal of lightly tanned flesh. One of her buns was starting to untwist, leaving blond tendrils of hair scattered around her neck.

  He caught one with his finger.

  “Are you implying we should be doing something else, Dr. Travers? Why, I hardly know you.” There was wicked grin plastered across her face and a glint in her eyes. She’d put her second hand on his chest now and any attempts at decorum were about to be lost.

  “Maybe I’d like to get to know you a little better.”

  “Now, now, Dr. Travers. First, I was a patient. Now, a member of staff. Didn’t we have an agreement about a countdown?” She glanced at the watch on her wrist. “In one week and two days there won’t be a single reason we can’t get involved. No boundaries.” She was taunting him. Seeing how far she could push him. And he liked it.

  It was the gel between them. The thing that made electricity spark every time they were together. She sparked off him. She challenged him.

  She moved in front of him and picked up the cocktail menu. All he could focus on was the way the slinky, white material clung to the outline of her behind.

  “You broke the boundaries the second you put that goddamn costume on,” he growled.

  “Still liking it then?” She perused the menu, and the waiter was back in a flash ready to do her bidding.

  “Can I recommend the Trapeze Artist’s Special? It’s rum-based and flavored with orange. I think you’ll like it.”

  “Sounds great.” She leaned against the marble counter as she watched the bartender make her drink.

  “Personal service now, I see.” It irked him, even though he tried not to show it. He didn’t like the way the young barman was looking at her. His palms were itchy and every part of his body was on full alert. A w
hole new sensation around a woman. Was this what it felt to be jealous?

  There was a ripple around them as someone entered the room. Magdalena had arrived, and she was wearing as little as possible.

  A purple-sequin bikini adorned her perfect fiftysomething body. She should well flaunt it—she’d paid a fortune for it. Around the bikini was a bunch of purple balloons inflated to give the illusion of a bunch of grapes. How long would it take for the balloons to be popped and Magdalena have everyone admire her wonderful body?

  Selena mirrored his thoughts. “Wanna take bets Josh Ridgeway will be the first guy to pop one of her balloons?”

  Colt tried to hold back his laughter. As if on cue, Josh wound his way across the room with his spiky Borg head, straight into the path of Magdalena and her entourage.

  “Isn’t she booked for Tuesday?”

  Colt nodded. “Here’s hoping there are no problems. Past experience has taught me the quicker we can get Magdalena in and out, the better.”

  Selena sighed. “It appears to be a common complaint with the celebs. The whole world seems to revolve around them. How can you stand it?”

  Colt shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter. They pay our overinflated prices and it means we can support places like Helen’s House. It’s the only reason I put up with their crap.”

  “Finally.” There was a look of triumph in Selena’s eyes. “You’re admitting your prices are overinflated.” She was poised over the frosted glass she’d been given and was about to take a drink from a straw that was speared through a clown’s nose.

  He watched, hypnotized as she ran her tongue along her plump lips, then wrapped them around the straw. He could feel his stomach clench. He really didn’t need his imagination kicking into gear right now. If only she could use that tongue in some other places…

  A blob of the thick, frozen cocktail spilled over onto the outside of the straw, and she caught it with a flick of her tongue. His heart pounded, blood racing through his veins. He was about to be undone.