All or Nothing. Debbi RawlinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
again, Kyle probably would protect you.”
Dana rolled her eyes. The assistant manager had been a pain in the ass from the first day she’d met him. He’d asked her out three times in three weeks. She’d been polite in her first two refusals, not so subtle the last time. If he tried one more time, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions.
“Hey, guys.” Kelly joined them, already slipping off her navy blue blazer as she rounded her desk. “I’m afraid I won’t have time for coffee.”
“How was it?” Amy asked. “You weren’t gone long.”
“Pretty straightforward.” Kelly pushed long slender fingers through her strawberry-blond hair and then lowered herself onto her chair, her gaze going to her calendar.
Like Dana and Amy and countless others, she’d come to New York from a small midwestern town hoping to make it big. Like them, she’d failed miserably, although landing the assistant concierge job had been quite a coup. Good money. A certain amount of prestige. And it beat waiting tables like some of the less-fortunate hopefuls they’d met in the early days at casting calls and standing in line at the unemployment office.
Amy glanced over her shoulder and then leaned closer. “What kind of questions did they ask?”
“They just want to confirm shift times, if and when you left your station, that sort of thing.”
Dana checked her watch. Five minutes until her appointment with Chase Culver. After that she had to hurry across town to meet her regular Tuesday-morning client. She wouldn’t have time to talk to anyone today. Not that she had anything to say. “What was taken?”
Behind her someone noisily cleared their throat. Without looking she knew who it was by the way dread crawled over her skin.
“Talking about the theft, are we, ladies?”
She turned to Kyle with wide-eyed innocence, and in a loud voice said, “There was another theft? Here? When?”
He gave her a wry look before adjusting his left cuff link and sliding an exasperated look toward the front desk. The guest checking out turned toward them with interest.
Good thing Dana couldn’t see Kelly and Amy’s faces—it would’ve been hard to keep a straight one herself. Singing had once been her claim to fame, not acting. Although she’d taken enough classes when she’d first arrived in the city.
“I’d appreciate you keeping your voice down, Dana,” Kyle said in that proper-Bostonian tone that was as phony as his knockoff Rolex. “We don’t need our guests alarmed.”
She smiled. “No, that wouldn’t be good for business.” She backed away, throwing a look at Kelly and Amy. “See you guys later.”
“I didn’t mean to chase you off,” Kyle said with that creepy smile of his, while putting his hand on her arm.
She did all she could not to jerk away. Instead she kept backing up until contact was naturally broken. “I have to meet a client.”
He let his smarmy gaze wander down the front of her tank top, down her Spandex running shorts to her bare legs. “Of course.”
She couldn’t stand to look at him another second and abruptly turned toward the house phone by the elevator. The doors opened and a tall, wiry man in his early thirties walked out. He had dark longish hair, piercing blue eyes, and he wore shorts and a T-shirt hugging really broad shoulders. Holy cow, it wasn’t Christmas and she hadn’t been particularly good all year, but please, please be Chase Culver.
CHASE KNEW it was her. Not because he’d done his homework on her last night. Nothing on a piece of paper could prepare him for Dana McGuire in the flesh. Tall, slim and blond, her sapphire-blue eyes were enough to take the wind out of him. Centerfold material. This was the kind of woman men made fools of themselves over. Lost marriages and fortunes and reputations. Good to remember that.
“Dana?”
She smiled. “How did you know?”
“We’re the only two people underdressed.”
“Oh, right.” She gave a small sheepish shrug as she glanced down at her shorts.
He jumped on the opportunity to take another look himself. Long perfect legs that stopped just this side of heaven. Keeping his mind on business wasn’t going to be easy. In fact, he needed to revamp his bio quickly. The phony businessman-from-Houston spiel he’d prepared was okay, but to get the most bang for his buck, he had to bump it up. Become the kind of man she needed most. Because basically there were two reasons why a woman who looked like her came to New York, and he’d bet his ’67 Mustang convertible he knew what had lured her to the bright lights.
“Have you already done some stretching?” she asked, leading him toward the lobby doors.
They passed near the front desk where two women in hotel uniforms openly stared. The guy in the suit was one of those prissy twerps that grated on Chase. “Some.”
“Do you jog regularly?” Her gaze briefly caught on his ringless left hand, and then ran down his body.
His gut tightened when he saw more than professional curiosity darken her eyes. This assignment was gonna be a bitch. “Maybe three times a week. I’m usually too busy for anything more.”
“How many miles were you thinking we should go today?”
“Five.”
Her eyebrows went up.
“Or seven.”
She stopped short of the doors, a hint of a smile on her lips. “How many do you usually run?”
“Well, darlin’, that depends on who’s chasing me.”
She gave a small shake of her head. “I’ll take that as seven.”
He exhaled slowly. His friggin’ ego had gotten him into enough trouble. “Five is good.”
“Central Park okay with you?”
There had to be a better way than running in this heat to get to know her, ask her a few questions without sounding suspicious. Too bad he hadn’t come up with one. “Fine.”
“Okay.” She pushed through the doors and they’d barely hit the sidewalk when she started them on a brisk walk.
Pedestrian traffic wasn’t too bad and in a matter of minutes they could see the park. “How long have you been doing this?” he asked as they waited at the light across from the park entrance where a line of horses and carriages waited for the tourists.
“About three years.” She hadn’t stopped moving, but continued to walk in place and shake out her arms. She got more than a few second looks and not because of anything she did. No makeup and her hair plastered back, she was still stunning.
He wondered if Roscoe had told him everything. If that ol’ boy had slept with her and left that part out, Chase was gonna wring his neck. He eyed her again, trying not to be too obvious. Nah, she wouldn’t hook up with an old windbag like Roscoe. Even if the guy was rich. But then what the hell did Chase really know about her? “Are you from New York?”
“Indiana.”
“What brought you here to the big city?” he asked causally.
Her smile was brief and sad, but wasn’t going to stop him from lying through his teeth.
The light turned green, and she entered the crosswalk without answering him. She checked her watch. “You set the pace, but I’ll make sure we’re back in time for you to get to your eleven-thirty meeting. Ready?”
“Let’s go.”
For the first mile she was quiet except to warn him when a turn was coming up. They ran at a faster clip than he’d anticipated and he needed to get a conversation going while he could still run, breathe and talk at the same time. A year back he’d