Just the Man She Needs Page 3

  She looked up at him and knew at once that he saw her staring at his hands. What kind of expression had been on her face to precipitate the hot arousal that she saw in his eyes?

  “I’ve kept you too long,” he said with a half smile that she knew he didn’t mean. “See you in the morning?”

  She nodded. “I’ll be ready.”

  Ashton walked out of the Waldorf Astoria feeling as if Felicia Parker had his number. A few minutes with that woman and he had begun to burn for her all over again. Not that the attraction had subsided since Saturday. It hadn’t. But the intensity of his desire for her had become more manageable. Now, it was once more on the rampage. He couldn’t imagine what to expect of his feelings for Felicia in the future, and he didn’t believe that having her once would appease his appetite for her.

  When he’d glanced down to size up his audience, seeing her had almost knocked him for a loop. But it shouldn’t have surprised him that a professional woman would own stock in a cosmetics company, though it did seem like an odd coincidence.

  The next morning he called for a limousine and arrived at Felicia’s apartment promptly at seven o’clock. She was ready, as she’d promised, and he considered her promptness a strong point in her favor, because he thought it inconsiderate of individuals who allowed others to waste their time waiting for them.

  “Do you have time for a cup of coffee?” she asked him, and he hated to decline, because he hadn’t had a drop that morning, but they had barely enough time to get through airport security and catch the shuttle.

  “I’d love some,” he said, “but if there’s heavy traffic, it may take us an hour to get there. Thanks for being on time.” She locked the door, and they walked in silence to the limousine.

  “Is this your car?” she asked of the stretch limo.

  “It is until we reach the airport. I don’t engage in conspicuous consumption, Felicia. I remember when I cut grass, sold shoe strings, bussed dishes in S&W cafeteria and shoveled snow to get through college. I ordered a car, and this is what the limousine company sent me.” From his peripheral vision, he noted her raised eyebrows and wondered if that information would find its way into one of her columns.

  As soon as the car pulled away from the curb in front of the apartment building in which she lived, she turned to him and asked a question that he hadn’t bothered to entertain. “Why is assuring my correct understanding of your relationship to that escort agency so important to you?”

  He eased his trousers at the right knee and crossed his knee. “The answer to that ought to be clear. I don’t want anything about it to appear in your column.”

  “I see. So you don’t care what I think of you personally, right?”

  “You couldn’t be farther from the truth. I do not want you to have the mistaken impression that I lead an exotic double life, and definitely not as an escort.”

  “Mind telling me why your brother started a male escort service?”

  “This is off the record. Ours is a family business. Although we were doing well before Dream put us over the top. My middle brother, Cade, is COO of Underwood Systems, a software design enterprise. My grandfather manages our riding school with Cade’s help. Damon joined ROTC in college and consequently spent three years in the navy, one of them in Iraq. He managed the riding school until he decided to return to school and get a law degree. He’ll finish that in June.

  “Damon entered George Washington University law school, noticed the unbalanced ratio of men to women in Washington, D.C., even at public functions, and started his escort service. Once word got around that sex wasn’t part of the deal, the service became very popular. He could use twice as many escorts as he has, but he doesn’t have time to supervise more than the sixteen he hires. Those men are busy every night of the week.

  “When Damon sees an opportunity, he makes the most of it. I don’t know whether he’ll want us to retain the service after he passes the bar. I doubt it. If one of the escorts broke the rules and got caught, that could cause a lot of trouble for a lawyer, and for Underwood Enterprises. We own some real estate of which Damon is COO and general manager.”

  She had been silent while he spoke, but he noticed that she hadn’t taken any notes, and he appreciated that. He’d said it was off the record, and she evidently intended to respect his request that she not print his remarks. But her mind had been busy.

  “Back up a minute, Ashton. If Damon has a no-sex rule that escorts aren’t supposed to break, what would you have done if I had replied ‘yes,’ when you stood at my door and asked me if I would like anything else? Suppose I’d said I wanted you to make love to me?”

  “If I hadn’t fainted, I probably would have replied that I’d love to, but that it was against the rules and that, in any case, I didn’t have reference to sex.”

  She appeared skeptical. “I’d like to believe that. What was your motive?”

  Before he could stop himself, he began rubbing his chin with his forefinger, a signal that he was about to do or say something that he’d rather not reveal. “You interested me a great deal, and I needed to know how you would respond in those circumstances to such an overture from me or any other man. Your reaction reassured me.”

  Her left eyebrow rose just enough to indicate her disapproval. “Well, when you left me, I was certain that I would never see you again. If I interested you one bit, you must be a phenomenal actor, because you neither did nor said anything to indicate it.”

  He lifted his right shoulder in a slight shrug. “Neither did you.”

  They boarded the shuttle and found seats. “Would you like to sit inside or on the aisle?” he asked her.

  “You’re taller, Ashton, so you need the aisle seat more than I do.”

  If she wanted to defer to him, she should find a more plausible reason. He guessed her height to be around five feet nine, so she would be nearly as cramped as he would.

  His smile carried a glow that she could definitely get used to. “What you say may be true, but I’ll be happier knowing that you’re comfortable.” His stares were usually sufficient to command compliance from those who worked for him so, having said that, he slid in and took the seat next to the window.

  “How did you decide to become a columnist, Felicia?”

  “I’m a journalist. I hated my assignments on Cub Scouts, trends in skirt hems and similar earth-shaking matters, and I wrote a piece questioning why an unmarried congressman who has no children would be eating ice cream with a teenage girl in a shopping mall. To fulfill the space requirements, I added information about people I saw at an Urban League gala. The part about the congressman caused quite a stir, and the editor loved the piece and rewarded me with column space. My dream is to write a widely read political column, and I’m laying the groundwork for that right now.”

  “I know. I read your column daily, and I’m aware of the gradual and subtle changes.”

  His leg accidentally brushed hers, and she didn’t move away. The contact heightened his need to know how she felt about him, but he decided to let the incident slide. However, he didn’t move his leg, and when she still didn’t move hers, arousal slammed into him. He reached down, grabbed his computer out of his briefcase, put it on his lap and prayed for a blessing. Felicia Parker was either a gambler or very daring, he couldn’t tell which, because her facial expression had not altered one bit.

  Chapter 2

  Felicia wondered if, by leaving his leg against hers, Ashton was trying to find out what she was made of. She wouldn’t say he deliberately stroked her leg with his, but he knew where his leg was, and he should have moved it by now. If he was testing her mettle, he wouldn’t discover a thing about her except that she’d meet danger head-on if it suited her to do so. She was damned if she’d blink first, but his warmth began to seep into her, and she had to resist squirming as the blood started a mad telltale race to her loins. If the position of his leg bothered him, he didn’t let her know it.

  From the changes in the plane’s e
ngine, she realized that they were about to land in Washington. And still he didn’t move his leg. The plane came to a halt, the pilot turned off the seat belt sign, and all around them passengers scrambled for their luggage and crowded the aisle. He didn’t move his leg.

  “Aren’t we getting off?” she asked him.

  “Of course,” he said as matter-of-factly as if he hadn’t created the tension between them. “I’m waiting on you.”

  She looked him in the eye, saw what looked like a smirk, and said, “Have you ever wanted to smack an adult?”

  He raised his shoulder in a shrug. “Plenty of times. Right now, in fact. One of these days, I’ll have the pleasure of seeing and hearing you say uncle, and trust me, Felicia, I am going to relish every second of it.”

  She had to laugh. She couldn’t help it. Wanting desperately to trail her fingers down the side of his face, she said, “All right. I work with men, and it’s their daily sport to try and make me acknowledge their superiority. They try all kinds of tricks on me. I never let them win. I apologize if I overdid it just now, but you were no better.”

  “I know, and I paid for it.”

  She let a smile express her feelings about that. “I’m glad to know it.”

  They got out of the terminal and his fingers at her elbow steered her to a silver-gray Lincoln Town Car. He opened the door for her, fastened her seat belt, went around to the other side and seated himself behind the wheel.

  “Now that we know we can heat each other up,” he said, driving off, “let’s try to be friends.”

  Nothing would suit her better. “Works for me,” she said, and settled down into the comfortable leather seat, open for whatever came next.

  Ashton parked in front of a four-story, redbrick building, got out of the car and walked around to the front passenger door. “Why didn’t I know you’d be standing here by the time I got around the car?” he asked her. “Would it kill you to let me open the door for you?” He liked independent and successful women. Indeed, his experience with Karla had taught him that any other type of woman was not for him. Nonetheless, his feelings about Felicia Parker made him want to emphasize the gender difference between them. It seemed foolish, but he didn’t want her to forget that he was a man, a man with whom she had to contend.

  “I forget,” she said. “I get out of cars all the time without help when I’m by myself or in a taxi, so I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  “For not being a clinging vine?” he asked. “There’s no way I could make the mistake of putting you in that category.”

  Her hand clasped his wrist, surprising him with her soft touch. “I’m sorry, Ashton. I’m not often around a man like you.”

  “What does that mean? I don’t know how to take that.”

  “You’re gracious, yet you don’t have an ax to grind, you’re not currying favor, and you’re not hitting on me. You’re just being yourself. That takes some getting used to.”

  “Thanks for the compliment. Frankly, I thought you were being cantankerous. This is where Damon lives.” He took her arm, nearly withdrew his hand, then remembered that after what she’d just said about him, she’d probably trust him for at least the next hour.

  He rang the bell at the door of apartment 3-A and waited. After a minute, the door swung open and his brother stepped out, opened his arms and clasped him in a warm embrace.

  “Damon. You’re looking great. School’s obviously good for you. This is Felicia Parker.”

  “You didn’t have to tell me. I’m delighted to meet you, Ms. Parker. You’re even more beautiful in person than on television. Come on in.”

  “Thank you. We’re disturbing you, I know, but Ashton wanted this question cleared up today, so here we are.”

  Ashton had often seen demonstrations of Damon’s charm, but he hadn’t seen it in so practiced and polished a manner. “I’m sure that after seeing us together, you won’t doubt that we’re brothers,” he said to Felicia, “although he’s a few years older than I. I thought he made the perfect escort. Didn’t you?”

  She looked from one man to the other one. “What are you telling me, Damon?”

  Damon took her arm and guided her to a seat in his small but attractive living room. “Have a seat, Ms. Parker,” Damon said, “while I get us a little something.” He left them and went toward the kitchen.

  “I should have told you that Damon has an odd sense of humor, Felicia, and I suspect he’s about to demonstrate it.”

  She didn’t respond to his comment. “If it wasn’t for the age difference between you and Damon—or maybe it’s the difference in experiences—you two could be twins. You look just alike, right down to size and height. Does your other brother resemble you and Damon so strongly?”

  He sat across from her where he could see her reactions. “It’s been said that ‘you always know an Underwood when you see one.’ Cade looks pretty much like Damon and me, but his personality sets him apart.”

  She crossed her knee, and swung the shapeliest leg he’d seen in years. “From my limited observation, you and Damon have strikingly different personalities, though there’s one trait that I suspect runs in the family.”

  “I figured you didn’t get anything on the plane except coffee,” Damon said, returning with a large tray of food and coffee, “so I toasted some bagels, scrambled a few eggs and cooked some bacon. That and coffee will have to do.”

  Felicia sniffed in obvious appreciation for the food before her, took a small plate and helped herself. “You’re a thoughtful man, Damon. Mind if I use your first name? Mine’s Felicia.”

  “No, I don’t mind. I think I’m thoughtful, too, because after you told me who you were, I wanted to make the sale, but I was afraid that my guys weren’t suitable. Felicia, the qualities you asked for are not found in escorts. I can promise that all of my guys are handsome and charming, but you wanted elegance and intelligence, good conversationalist, plus something else. That kind of man does not work as an escort, unless perhaps, he’s a student. Students lack the sophistication one needs in an escort.

  “If you hadn’t been a journalist with access to newspapers, I’d have said I didn’t have anyone available. I phoned Ashton and cried help. I didn’t ask Cade, because he’d make me pay for the remainder of my life, but Ashton always does whatever he can to help Cade and me, so I asked him. Ashton didn’t dance with joy when I told him that I wanted him to escort you, but I have a feeling that he thanks me now.”

  “Suppose I have to attend another fashionable party in Washington, what will I do for an escort?” she asked Damon. Ashton didn’t doubt that she was pulling his leg.

  Damon lifted his shoulder in a leisurely and deliberate shrug. “Ashton will be delighted to escort you wherever and whenever you wish. No charge.”

  “He didn’t charge me last time, either,” she said. “He asked me to make a contribution to his favorite charity. I should have known then that there was something irregular.”

  Ashton finished chewing his bacon, sipped his coffee and sat forward in his chair. “Felicia, I can’t imagine that any man, seeing you and the way you looked in that dress, would have let you pay him for his company.” He turned to Damon. “And would you please not talk about me as if I wasn’t present. And another thing. No matter what Damon imagines, I am not applying for the position of Felicia Parker’s escort.”

  A frown marred her features. “Have we made you angry, Ashton? I hope not. I’m just beginning to enjoy this. I wouldn’t insult you for anything.”

  “Are you satisfied that I’m not an escort?”

  “Yes, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the honor. I put you to a lot of trouble today, and I’m sorry. Personally, I wouldn’t have cared what you did for a living. I knew you were honorable. As a journalist, I’m always on the lookout for a good story, but there’s no story here. Okay?”

  “Thanks,” Ashton said. “Now that that’s settled, why don’t we make the most of the rest of the day? Alexandria is one of the most his
toric cities in the country, and it harbors a gold mine of information about the lives of eighteenth-and nineteenth-century African Americans. Also, if you haven’t been to Arlington Cemetery and Mount Vernon, now’s your chance.”

  Felicia leaned against the back of the sofa and scrutinized him. “I would have thought you’d be rushing back to the airport. You’re a very busy person, and I put you to a lot of trouble and caused you to waste a lot of time. Yet you’re willing to blow the rest of the day making the trip down here rewarding for me.”

  The more he saw of her, the more he wanted her, and when he added honesty and intelligence to her feminine assets, his reticence weakened the way water dilutes wine. She wasn’t to be toyed with, and he didn’t have time for games anyway. I’m going for it, he said to himself as he watched her smile bloom beneath the steadiness of his gaze.

  “Don’t I deserve an answer?” she asked him, causing him to wonder whether she was brazen or unusually courageous.

  “You do,” he said. “I won’t be wasting my time. I’ve decided that I enjoy your company, and that I’ll have as much of it as you’ll allow me.”

  “Wait a minute,” she said, seemingly aghast. “Haven’t you skipped some important considerations?”

  “You have much to learn about Ashton, Felicia,” Damon said. “When he sticks his toe in the lake, he already knows the precise temperature of the water. I was planning to go sightseeing with you two, but prudence dictates that I study for my exams.”

  He thanked Damon with his eyes. He wanted to get to know Felicia, and the sooner the better, for she was already growing on him like mushrooms on tree trunks after a spring rain.

  “I’m sorry you can’t join us, Damon,” Felicia said, but he’d swear he’d never heard a happier-sounding statement of regret.

  “No problem here,” Damon said. “Ashton will take good care of you. Say, Ash, why don’t we go home to see Granddad as soon as Cade gets back? He was complaining yesterday that he never sees the three of us together anymore.”