“Yes, and I know how she feels. I lost my mother too. I told her if she needed to talk to someone, to give me a call. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all. I think she really needs a woman to talk to. I’ve hired someone to stay with Marie while I’m on the road, but she doesn’t seem to like her.” He thought a moment, then said, “What she really needs is someone to take her clothes-shopping. Every time I give her my credit card, she comes back with a bag of candy and something two sizes too small.”
That would explain the tight dress. “I could hook her up with my friend Caroline. She’s really good at making people over.”
“That would be great, Jane. I don’t know anything about girls.”
Even if she hadn’t read up on him, she would have known within five seconds of meeting him that Luc knew a lot about girls. It was the look in his eye and the confident curve of his smile. “You mean you don’t know anything about sisters.”
“I don’t know anything about my little sister,” he said through a wicked grin. “But I did date twins once.”
“Yes.” She frowned. “You and Hef.”
He laughed, deeply amused with himself. “You’re so gullible,” he said as the music ended and she stepped back. Instead of releasing her, he pulled her against his chest. The band struck up another number. “What did you and Hogue do in the limo?” he asked next to her hair.
“What?”
“You thanked Darby for a wild limo ride.”
She and Darby had drunk champagne and played with the television, as the driver drove them around the city as if they were Bill and Melinda Gates. But she figured that wasn’t really what Luc wanted to know. His mind was in the gutter, and she decided to give him something to think about. “We got freaky.”
He stopped. “You got freaky with Hogue?”
She almost laughed, and looked up into his face. The only thing freaky about her was her imagination. “Beneath that hair gel, he’s a wild man.”
He started to move once more. “Tell me about it.” His breath whispered across her temple and her fingers curled into his shoulder.
“You want the details?”
“Yes, please.”
She did laugh then. He’d probably done things that even Honey Pie hadn’t thought up. She doubted she could shock him if she tried. “Unless I make something up, I’m
afraid you’re doomed to disappointment.”
“Then make something up.”
Could she? Right here on the dance floor? If she closed her eyes, could she become Honey Pie? The woman who made men want her with a smile. Men like Luc.
“Something good,” he added. “No whips, though. I’m not into pain.”
It was tempting. Tempting to sink into his chest and pretend she was the kind of woman to satisfy a man like Luc. The kind who whispered naughty suggestions and made men beg. For her next article in Him, she’d been thinking of writing Honey into a co-ed fantasy. Men loved co-ed fantasies. “Do you like to watch?”
“I’m more of a doer,” he said close to her ear. “It’s more interesting that way.”
But she couldn’t do it. Alone in her own apartment was one thing, but standing within Luc’s arms in the SkyLine was entirely different. She couldn’t take it any further and the best she could come up with was, “Darby is an animal. Neither of us may ever recover. In fact, I better go sit down now. I’m exhausted.”
Luc pulled back and looked into her face. “Don’t tell me that’s the best you can do. You’re better at trash-talking. And you pretty much suck at that.”
“Let’s talk about something else.” Something safe.
He was quiet for a moment, then said, “You look good tonight.”
“Thank you. You’re looking pretty good yourself.” He pulled her close once more, and she brushed her fingers across his shoulder, feeling the texture of his jacket. If she leaned in just a fraction, the smell of his cologne and the starch of his shirt filled her nose. “Very nice.”
“I like your hair.”
“I got it cut this morning. It looks good now, but the real test will come in the morning when I have to wash it.”