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  “Right?” She clicked through the rest of the information. V really was a disgusting pig. She felt even worse than before that she’d agreed to be with him tonight. Before she could allow herself time to think about that, she had to take care of Luke’s request. “And the thing is your staff never would have caught it. Nothing else matches. You’re going to have to start collecting driver’s license information, Social Security numbers, or something.”

  He pulled up the stool beside her. “This is worse than I thought.”

  “I have to say it and, trust me, it’s not that I’m trying to weasel my way out of anything, but you need someone with a lot more knowledge and experience than me to fix this.”

  “I thought we’d taken care of security when we reopened.”

  “You didn’t have the members reapply, or at least, I wasn’t asked to. Did you have anyone run background checks?”

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “Not yet. I was going to ask Jeff Parks to do it in a month or so.”

  “Might I suggest you have him do it sooner rather than later?”

  “Yes. Definitely.” He shook his head. “I thought it was okay to wait since almost everyone had been a member for so long. But I see now a clean sweep is in order.”

  She nodded. It was scary when she thought about it. If no one had ever done a background before . . .

  She didn’t want to dwell on that.

  “Meagan,” he said, and she lifted her head to find him holding out a robe. “You can get dressed if you’d like. I don’t see the point in you doing anything further.”

  “Thank you.” She slid off the stool and slipped the robe on. “And, Sir, I am sorry for how I acted. Truly. I’ve Topped in a scene before. I wouldn’t have put up with my attitude either.”

  “I appreciate you saying that.” He nodded. “I was thinking. Would you have time to have lunch next weekend before we start shooting?”

  She raised an eyebrow and he laughed.

  “Honestly, I just thought it’d be a good idea for us to talk. Get to know each other.” He waved toward her. “When we both have our clothes on.”

  It would be dangerous to accept his invitation. She could already see how easy it would be to fall back into the schoolgirl crush she’d had on him years ago. And how much more would this grown-up Luke appeal to her?

  But, on the other hand, it would be a good idea for her to get closer to Luke in ways other than photography. There was still The Taskmaster to think about, after all. She would have to keep in mind that being with Luke this time was the means to an end. Nothing more. If she did that, she should be able to have lunch with him without getting any emotions involved.

  She hoped anyway. “I think that would be fine. Should we meet somewhere?”

  “You could come by the house. Might be easier than going somewhere and then having to go to my place. Just do it all in one location.”

  “I’ll do it on one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You have to give me a tour of your house. It looked fascinating.”

  His laugh was easy. “It’s a deal.”

  * * *

  Luke always regretted that he wasn’t much of a cook. It wasn’t because he didn’t try; he did. It just seemed as though everything he cooked tasted like cardboard. Cooking should be simple. All he had to do was follow the recipe. But it never was that easy.

  Before Meagan came over on Saturday, he went to the local farmers’ market and got fresh produce for a salad. He had some cooked chicken left over at the house from the night before. He’d throw it all together for a quick lunch. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to eat anything too heavy, anyway.

  Meagan arrived on time, stepping out of the car and looking incredible. He couldn’t help but remember how she looked the weekend before, naked and needy before him. He’d wanted so badly to touch her, but to punish himself along with her, he’d given her that ludicrous spreadsheet to work with.

  He shook his head and watched her walk to the door. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Interesting choice. He hadn’t told her anything about the way he wanted her to wear her hair, but the ponytail worked perfectly for what he had planned for today. And unlike last week, she didn’t have any makeup on. Perfect. Though he thought he might have her put on some red lipstick after lunch.

  He opened the door, expecting to see her smile, and was caught off guard by her frown.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  “Sorry. What?”

  “You look distracted and you’re frowning. Is everything okay?” He moved to the side to let her pass by him and enter the house.

  “Yes, just a message that came through on the way over. It’s okay. I can handle it.” Her phone rang with an incoming message and she stopped to read it.

  He closed the door and watched as she typed back a reply.

  “Meagan,” he said softly.

  “Hmm.” She didn’t look up.

  “Meagan,” he said just as soft, but she continued messaging. “Hand me the phone.”

  Her head snapped up. “What?”

  He held out his hand. “Hand me the phone.”

  “I’m finished now.”

  “Yes, you are. Give it to me and you’ll get it back before you leave.”

  “That’s okay. I’m fine.”

  He shook his hand. “Give it.” She sighed, but put the phone in his hand. He turned it off. “Thank you. I know it’s hard to believe, but the world won’t grind to a screeching halt if Meagan Bishop doesn’t answer her phone or reply to a text for the next few hours.”

  “I know that, you know.”

  “I’m sure you do, but I’m a jealous, jealous man.” He closed the distance between them and lifted her chin so she met his eyes. God, she was gorgeous. “I only have you here with me for a few short hours. Don’t make me share.”

  She blinked and her cheeks turned a light pink, which made her only more appealing. “So greedy,” she said, her voice husky.

  He shouldn’t be touching her the way he was. She had been very clear about what she did and did not want from him. But at the moment, her eyes were dark and her lips slightly parted. When she looked at him the way she was, he couldn’t keep his hands off her. “Always,” he said in agreement with her earlier statement and ran his thumb along her bottom lip.

  She drew it into her mouth and nipped his fingertip, looking him straight in his eyes the entire time.

  Damn, but if that didn’t send sparks down his body and make his cock beg for more. “Vixen,” he said, but didn’t move his finger.

  “Ass.”

  He chuckled and dropped his hand. “Maybe I better give you the tour before we do something we said we shouldn’t.”

  She looked just disappointed enough that he seriously contemplated changing his plans for the afternoon and giving her exactly what they both wanted. But no sooner than the thought came to him, he disregarded it. To do something that radical would be to follow the path that had brought them heartache all those years ago. He wanted them to start new.

  Which meant he needed to take her on a tour of his house. “Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour.”

  The disappointment fled, replaced by curiosity, and he led her down the hall. “This part of the house you saw last week.” He walked past the bedroom she’d changed in, pointed out his bedroom, and made his way into the living room.

  As soon as they entered, she made a beeline for the two oil paintings he had displayed in the middle of the far wall. “I saw glimpses of these last week and couldn’t wait to see them close up. They’re obviously the real deal.” She looked up at him. “Maxfield Parrish.”

  He looked at her with surprise. “You know of him?”

  She nodded. “Art minor. I’d tell you these two pieces belong in a museum or an art gallery, but I have the feeling you know this.”

  “I do. In fact, these spent the last few weeks in my gallery downtown. I brought them home so I could en
joy them before trying to find a buyer.”

  She turned, clearly surprised. “You’re going to sell them?”

  “Yes, there’s so much artwork I like, if I kept everything, you wouldn’t be able to walk in the front door.”

  Her resulting laughter took him by surprise. Had she ever laughed at something he said before? He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t ever want her to stop.

  But she did when she noticed him staring at her. “What?”

  “Your laugh.”

  “What about it?”

  “I’d like to hear it more often.”

  “I guess I’m not the kind of person who laughs a lot.” A strange look crossed her face. “I don’t know why.”

  Damn it. How could telling her that he liked her laughter cause all the joy to leave her face? That hadn’t been his intent. “Hey, did I say something? I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “It’s nothing.” She exhaled and gave him a sad smile. “I wish I were the type person who laughed a lot, that’s all.”

  “Maybe you are and you’ve just been hanging out with the wrong people.”

  “That’s a definite possibility.”

  “Let me show you the rest of the house.” He motioned for her to follow him out. No sooner had they stepped into the hallway than the kitchen timer he’d set for the bread went off. “Tour and then eat or eat, then tour?”

  “Eat and then tour.”

  “A woman after my heart. Let’s go.”

  They walked back to the kitchen where she insisted on helping him set the table. He wasn’t in a mood to argue with her and he rather liked having her be all domestic in his house. She looked as if she belonged and the thought made him smile.

  She put two bowls on the table. “You’re looking at me funny.”

  “Am I?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “How?”

  “Like you’re a dog and I’m a bone you’ve just been given.”

  “I’d never look at you like you’re a bone.” He leaned back on the countertop and crossed his arms. “Maybe a juicy steak.”

  She smiled and he thought he heard a giggle. That was progress. Maybe it wouldn’t be too much longer before he was getting full-fledged laughs routinely. He should make that a goal, to have her laugh, really laugh, once a week.

  “I guess a juicy steak is better than a bone,” she said. “Though I can’t imagine by much.”

  “It is, trust me.” He pushed back from the countertop. “Let’s eat and you can tell me all about how you went from cover model to TV executive.”

  “Really?” She sat down as he brought the salads over. “Why would you want to talk about something so boring?”

  “The camera loves you and you were once quite passionate about modeling. I’m trying to figure how it is you’re satisfied sitting behind a desk.”

  She took a bite of salad and, once she’d swallowed, replied, “What makes you think I’m satisfied?”

  Her words struck his heart, just like she probably knew they would. “Aren’t you?”

  “Most days, yes.” She shoveled her lettuce around the bowl. “But then others . . . Like, take this invitation I recently received. One of the NNN anchors has been nominated for an Emmy and he invited me to his celebratory dinner. I helped him get his foot in the door eons ago when I was fresh out of college. Days like the one I got the invitation? I’m not so satisfied then. I feel unsettled.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I wonder what my life would be like if I’d made other choices. If I’d decided not to help him, that it was every man for himself. If I’d gone for the job instead of coaching him for it. If I sat in front of a camera rather than sitting behind a desk.”

  “Do you want his job?”

  “I wouldn’t turn it down. The invitation really shouldn’t bother me the way it has. He’s done a good job. He should be recognized for it. But, like I said, most days I’m content. Truly.”

  There was so much more to life than merely being content, especially since from where he sat, she was trying to convince herself she was even that. He’d tell her that one day, but now wasn’t the time. “Will you go to his celebratory dinner?”

  “Yes, I will. Not so much because I want to, but because it would hurt his feelings if I didn’t. I’ve always been there for him in the past. This is a big deal. I should go. Besides, if I don’t, people will talk about how I’m jealous and couldn’t swallow my pride enough to go to a lousy dinner.”

  “Sounds like an absolute fright.”

  “It will be.” She stopped shoveling her food around and tilted her head. “Will you go with me?”

  Just as soon as the words left her mouth, she clamped her lips shut, as if she couldn’t believe she’d asked the question.

  “To the absolutely frightful celebratory dinner?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Are you sure you want me to go?”

  “Yes.” She nodded, apparently having decided not to renege on her offer. “It’ll be so much better with you there. I hate going to functions like that alone.”

  Even though there had been less animosity between the two of them, he knew she wasn’t asking him as a real date. No, she simply didn’t want to show up alone. He would be acting as her support, not her date. Frankly, he thought she’d spent enough time by herself; she needed to get out more. Enjoy life.

  “When is it?” he asked.

  “Next Saturday night. Oh, I wasn’t thinking. It’s a Saturday. In Manhattan. Damn. We might need to move our session up so I . . . we . . . can go. If it’s okay with you.”

  Her words sent his imagination into hyperspeed. Forget having the session before. All he could think about was Meagan in the moonlight. First in her evening gown and then totally nude, bathed by the light of a thousand stars. “Yes, I’ll go with you.” His voice sounded rough and he cleared his throat. “Except we’ll do the session outside, afterward.”

  Chapter Four

  Meagan looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of her bathroom door and frowned. Not because she looked bad, but because she actually cared what she looked like. But it was more than that. She wanted to know what he would think. Would he like the gown she’d selected?

  Normally, everyone wore black to these functions. There was the occasional woman who wore silver or red. In fact, she’d planned to wear a silver gown herself. But she had been window-shopping and this gown had caught her eye. She’d marched into the store and asked for it in her size, telling herself the entire time it had nothing to do with him. Luke.

  But of course, deep down, she knew it had everything to do with Luke. She ran her hands down her sides and took a deep breath; then she looked at herself again.

  The gown was a pale pink, with delicate sheer fabric covering one shoulder. And though the bottom of the gown barely brushed the tops of her heels, there was a slit on the left side that rose dangerously high up her thigh. Luke had been right—the color was fabulous on her.

  She turned to look at the back and gave a nod of satisfaction, right as her doorbell rang. She’d told Luke that she could meet him at the party, but he’d said no, he would come by her apartment and pick her up. Inside, she’d been secretly thrilled, even though she scowled at him and said, “Fine.”

  Her heart raced as she made her way to the door and she waved her hands so she wouldn’t get sweat on the gown. It was absurd she was nervous. She was a grown-ass woman. Attending a dinner party with a man shouldn’t fill her stomach with butterflies. But maybe, if it were any other man, there wouldn’t be any butterflies.

  She took a deep breath and opened the door.

  Luke’s eyes grew wide, first with shock and then with something else. He didn’t say anything as his eyes traveled over her body. She lifted her head just a bit, letting him look his share.

  “My God, Meagan,” he finally said. “You are magnificent.”

  He liked it. From the looks of it, he more than liked it. “Thank you. Someone told me I looked good in this color.�
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