Naughty Temptations

Chapter One-1

Chapter One

Lynn’s feet hurt and her back ached, but she still had two hours left on her eight-hour shift. She longed to go home and soak in the tub, but they had a substantial crowd that night and she needed every penny she could make. A big business conference in the hotel meant lots of expense account dinners and good tips.

Marion, the hostess, had just seated a group of two women and four men at table twenty-four. Despite her exhaustion, Lynn pasted on a smile and pushed down her discomfort as she approached them. A cheerful smile and perky attitude always improved the tips, though a group this size tripped the automatic gratuity. “Hi, I’m Lynn, and I’ll be your server this evening.” It came out okay, but she caught hints of tiredness in her words. “What can I get you to drink?” She pulled the pad from her pocket as she glanced around the table.

She took a minute to recognize the man in the middle chair on the left, but she almost gasped and dropped the pad when she did. She caught the reaction just in time. He couldn’t be the same man. And if he were, surely he wouldn’t recognize her. She’d cut her hair into a short bob and let it revert to its natural dirty blond color. Besides, no one she’d ever known would expect to see her in these circumstances.

“Can we see the wine list?” one of the men asked.

She nodded absently, because the man she couldn’t believe was there was staring at her. His expression suggested he knew but couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

She drew a deep breath and handed the wine list to the man in the corner.

“I’ll have a water, please.” That was the older of the two women.

“Water for everyone?”

A couple of them nodded.

“I’ll give you a minute to look over the menus while I get the waters.”

She turned away and breathed a quick sigh. How could this have happened? What were the odds that Ryan Harper would ever walk into the place she worked in Baltimore? A man who lived hundreds of miles away. Dear heaven. Fate hadn’t been hard enough on her already?

Would he believe it was her? Ten years ago, they’d known each other very well, had even talked about getting married, until her parents had driven him away. She hadn’t seen him since the day she’d refused to elope with him, though she’d spent many sleepless nights wondering how her life might have turned out if she had.

All that was irrelevant now. She collected the pitcher of water and, steeling herself not to react to his presence, went back and filled each glass. Her hand didn’t shake at all. It helped not to look directly at him. “Are you ready to order?” she asked the table.

The man at the far side tapped the wine list, forcing her to circle the table and lean over between him and Ryan. “Can we get a bottle of this?”

She read off the name of the wine from the line he pointed to. “Of course. Six glasses?”

“None for me,” one of the other men answered.

“Five glasses, then.”

“And let’s get a couple of appetizers to share,” the man who’d chosen the wine suggested. “How about the stuffed mushrooms and the spinach dip?”

She nodded and sneaked a glance at Ryan’s left hand. No ring. “Anything else?” she asked.

“I think that will do to start with.”

“I’ll get this for you while you decide on your dinners.”

She still hadn’t glanced at him when she headed back toward the kitchen, but she could feel his gaze on her.

She delivered food to another table while she waited for their order. Her hands shook setting down the plates. Once she glanced toward their table and found him watching her. Crap. She so didn’t need this.

Serving the wine and appetizers strained her control. She prayed he wouldn’t say anything. She didn’t know how she’d react if he mentioned the past or even showed he recognized her.

He didn’t. He ignored her while she poured the wine except to nod thanks when she filled his glass. In fact, for the rest of the evening he appeared to concentrate on his companions at the table and barely looked her way again.

Thank goodness.

Lynn’s nerves stayed tied up in knots while she took their orders for food, delivered refills on bread and beverages, placed their entrées in front of each one, and checked back a couple of times. She tried to keep an easy, friendly smile on her face as she glanced around the table, even though her pulse raged at several times normal speed. She couldn’t totally avoid noticing him. He was the kind of man who drew second and third looks from most women.

The medium brown hair he used to wear slightly long and raggedly cut was now expensively razored to fall into place. The hazel eyes still showed that warm glitter and the grooves in his lean cheeks added depth to his smile. The dark gray suit, blue-striped shirt, and burgundy tie enhanced his strong build. She struggled to keep her breathing under control.

He did glance up at her when she delivered the check after the group finished their meals. His stare held puzzlement and intrigue and something else she couldn’t figure out, but he didn’t say anything. They all finally left shortly before the restaurant closed, and Lynn let her shoulders sag with relief. She hustled through the final tasks of the day to be sure she caught the last bus that night.

She stepped out the side door and turned toward the street, but nearly jumped a foot high when a voice from the shadows beside the door said, “I certainly never expected to see Lynn Betancourt working as a waitress.”

Shocked, she stopped and turned around. “Ryan. You scared the hell out of me. I never expected to see you again at all.”

“That’s obvious, Lynn. It is you. What’s this all about? Why is a woman who should’ve inherited millions working in a hotel restaurant?”

“Good tips, and it’s on the main bus route. Speaking of which, I can’t afford to miss the last one.”

He waved it off. “I have a rental. I’ll drive you home. We need to talk.”

“Why? What’s there to say?”

“A lot, I think. I have a lot of questions, anyway.”

“But what if I don’t want to give you any answers?”

He stared at her a moment. She could just make out his expression in the glow from the security light at the corner of the hotel building. “I’d be disappointed,” he admitted. “But if you tell me to go away and never come back and really mean it, that’s what I’ll do.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. His voice—that smooth, mellow baritone—had always exerted a pull that both thrilled and exasperated her. It still did. Part of her wanted to tell him to go away, but she couldn’t. For any number of reasons, she couldn’t. Not just because her body reacted to his nearness with a jump in her pulse and pounding in her chest, but also his presence made her realize how lonely she’d been all these years. How much she missed the easy friendship they’d once had. Missed him. It was dangerous, but she at least owed him a chance to talk. “All right.”

He took her arm, leading her back inside, through the lobby, and down to the parking lot beneath the building. The rental was a comfortable, late-model Chevrolet. “Address, please?” he asked, as he activated the GPS system. He didn’t say anything more until he’d entered the address, got the route, driven out of the parking garage, and negotiated a couple of tricky turns. Once they were on the straighter road, he said, “We always tried to be honest with each other, so I’m going to tell you up front that I did some research and I knew you were here before I arrived. It’s the only reason I decided to come to the conference. I didn’t know you worked at the hotel, though. That was sheer coincidence—and quite a shock—but I planned to stay on to find you after the conference was over anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because I heard that your husband had died and the circumstances were…questionable, and I wanted to know how you were doing.”

Her hands clasped together tightly in her lap. The implication that he still cared tugged on whatever remained of her heart and demanded her honesty in return. “Trent killed himself.” She could say it that baldly and not feel anything anymore. “He’d sold or hocked everything we owned, raided my bank account, sold my car while I was out of town, and even that wasn’t enough to satisfy his gambling debts. So he took the easy way out and shot himself.” She drew a breath and blinked back the tears that stubbornly tried to ease past her lids. “He left me… Left me to clean up his mess. And that’s the honest truth. Too much? It should give you some satisfaction to know that I totally made the wrong decision seven years ago, when I let myself be persuaded by my parents. I knew that before I even knew about Trent’s gambling. I realized it before the honeymoon was over.”

“That’s not—” He stopped. “I was going to say that’s not the kind of satisfaction I was looking for. But in the interest of honesty—it does appeal to some ugly, primitive part of me. Still, I can tell you’ve suffered and I’d like to say that I never wanted that.”

She gave a half-choked laugh. “There’s an interesting irony there. But it should give you some feeling of justification. You were right. To some extent, anyway. I should’ve told my parents no and run off with you.” She thought about where that might have led. “Maybe. I wonder where we’d be today if I had. I was a different person then.”

“Immature, spoiled, dependent, self-centered, proud, and snobbish.”

“And you still liked me, in spite of all that?”

He chuckled. “I had a plan to reform you.”

“Oh, right.”

“Did Trent know about your kinky s****l tendencies?”

“No. I…I didn’t want to tell him about it.”

“Maybe just as well. He sounds like—”

The robotic female voice of the GPS broke in. “In one quarter mile turn left at the next intersection.”

Ryan redirected the conversation once he’d made the turn. “So he spent every penny you inherited? Your parents died shortly after your marriage as I recall.”

“Almost a year. And I didn’t inherit as much as everyone thought. The business had been faltering for years. It was still worth a pretty good pile, but not a huge fortune. And I did manage to put some of the proceeds away in a secret bank account Trent didn’t know about.”

“So what—? You paid off his gambling debts with it?”

“I had to. I’d never be safe from them if I didn’t.”

“Wise move. Didn’t leave you much, though, did it?”

“No. I sold the house, but with his second mortgage, there was no equity in it. I sold a couple of pieces of jewelry I had from my parents that Trent didn’t know about. It gave me enough to live on while I found a job.”

“I wouldn’t have taken you for the waitress type.”

“There’s no ‘type’ for waitresses. We all do what we have to. But it’s my second job. In the mornings I’m a teaching assistant at a pre-school.”

“That wouldn’t have been even my second choice, either.”

“Nor mine. But I never finished the college degree, which meant my opportunities were limited. I’m hoping to finish a business course next year and I should be able to get a better job then.”

“What would—?”

The GPS voice interrupted them again to tell him to turn left again and then his destination would be on the right. He pulled into the parking lot of the shabby apartment complex. “This is where you live?” His tone dripped disbelief.

“Who’s a snob now?”

“Not snobbery. I’m just surprised. Doesn’t seem like you.” He stopped and turned off the car’s engine. “Okay. Touché.”

She had to smile as she dug the keys out of her purse. His sense of humor was one of the things that had drawn her to him, beyond the gorgeous face, body, and s****l intensity. “I’m not the same person I was. Lot of water under the bridge.”

“Do people change that much?”

“When they’re forced to it. Yes. When it’s change or die.”

“Was it really that dire?”

“Maybe not quite, but awfully close.”

He waited while she unlocked the door and entered. He appeared to assume he was welcome in her apartment since he just followed her in without asking. Some things didn’t change. If he thought the building itself was shabby, how would he react to the furniture.

Once she’d switched on the light, he looked around, taking in the threadbare sofa and chairs, the colorful pillows she’d scattered to hide their shabbiness, the scratched, mis-matched tables, lamps, and bookshelves. She expected another sneering comment, but instead, he said, “You’ve made it warm and homey.”