“I can afford your—” she cleared her throat “—agency.”
“That’s not the problem,” he said. “I have no one available.” He stood, ready to show her to the door, but something in her voice stopped him.
“I really need your help,” she said, her eyes matching the plea of her words. “It’s my parents’ fortieth anniversary and my sisters, older brother and I are having this huge party for them. I need a date for the party.”
She was mistaken. The agency wasn’t an escort service that provided fantasy dates. He wasn’t suspicious of what she had in mind, but Jordan was well aware that escort services were often a front for prostitution. Austin’s motto was fantasy equals seduction of the mind. Sure, he provided exotic dancing, but Austin had firm rules—no stripping below the waist and no touching. Most importantly, the guys who worked for his little brother’s agency knew their number-one priority was to create a fantasy capable of making a woman catch her breath.
“I wish I could help you, but it’s out of the question,” he said.
She lowered her gaze, but not before he noted the disappointment in her eyes. Why did he feel as though he’d just kicked a puppy? He didn’t even know this woman.
He circled the desk and propped his backside against the edge. Curious, he studied her for a moment. “Why would you need a date?” he asked. Better yet, why would someone as adorable as her feel she had to pay for one? This was not a woman who should need to pay anyone to take her anywhere. She was stunning. Considering she’d had the ingenuity to track down the agency’s address told him she was no wallflower. She was definitely the type to know what she wanted and had the determination and intelligence to accomplish her goals.
She bit her lip and looked up at him. After a moment, a slight grin tugged her lips. “I don’t want any entanglements, and my parents would be thrilled if they believed I was dating again, especially since it is Valentine’s Day.” She looked him up and down. Then she smiled, one of those full, bright smiles she’d flashed him when she first walked into the house. “What about you?”
He frowned. “Me?”
She shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
“I…but we…” don’t do dates, he thought. But Austin had. Not only had his brother gone on several dates with Teddy Spencer, he’d fallen head over heels in love with her. Two days ago, they’d eloped.
Maybe Fantasy for Hire did provide the type of service Cait Sullivan wanted and he just wasn’t aware of it. He wished he’d paid more attention to his brother’s business venture, but he’d been too busy building his own career as an architect to take more than a cursory interest and then issue a string of warnings. He’d always been protective of Austin, and when their parents died unexpectedly when he was eighteen and Austin only sixteen, he’d been left to raise his brother. Though he’d lived in Los Angeles for the past eight years, looking out for Austin was a habit he’d never relinquished, much to his younger brother’s irritation.
“Money is no object,” she blurted out. To express her point, she fished through her bag and pulled out a small stack of hundred-dollar bills.
He stared at the wad of cash, held securely by her long, red, tapered nails. Austin might be in the process of selling the business, but how could Jordan in good conscience turn down such a hefty commission, even though Cait obviously misunderstood the purpose of the agency? Fantasy for Hire wasn’t an escort service, but neither could he walk away from that kind of cash. Money was money and he and Austin had too many lean years behind them for him to ignore what she was practically throwing in his lap.
She wasn’t asking him to take off his clothes. He didn’t have any plans for next Saturday night anyway, unless it involved an action video and a bowl of popcorn. He’d only been back in San Francisco for a few months and his social calendar was remarkably clear. What harm could there be in standing in as a Valentine for a beautiful woman who piqued his interest?
He sighed. Damn, Austin. His brother was going to get an earful when he returned. “All right,” he said, his voice filled with resignation. “You’ve got yourself a Valentine.”
Her smile never wavered, and her eyes brightened considerably as she handed him the cash. “I…uh…I want the full treatment.”
He quickly counted the cash, then set the bills on the desk next to the order form. Two thousand dollars! “Full treatment?” he posed tentatively, almost afraid to ask. For two grand, anything was possible.
She stood and slowly moved toward him. “Yes, Mr. Valentine,” she said in that husky voice that made him take notice. The tip of her tongue darted out and she moistened her lower lip.
He swallowed. Hard.
“I want the works.” She extended her hand toward him. “Do we have a deal?”
He looked at her outstretched hand, and those long, red nails he imagined wrapped around some very interesting places, then over at the cold, hard cash. Regardless of the fact that Austin’s wife worked, getting married meant additional financial demands on his brother, and Jordan was certain he’d end up being Uncle Jordan to some adorable kids within a few years. Austin was a family man now. There was no way Jordan could turn down Cait’s offer, or ignore the crisp one-hundred dollar bills she’d just handed him.
He took her hand, surprised by the firmness of her grip. “Jordan McBride, valentine for hire at your service. I hope I don’t disappoint you.”
She pulled her hand from his and gave him a look filled with sexy promise. “I’m sure you won’t,” she said, hiking his temperature a notch or two.
She left after promising to phone him later in the week with the details for Saturday night.
A valentine!
Why would a woman pay him two grand to be her valentine? And what on earth did she mean by the works? Was she expecting the traditional candy and flowers? Certainly she expected much more, considering the cash she’d paid him.
The phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. He took another order, this time for a fantasy pirate, for the following month. By the time he finished the call, he still hadn’t a clue as to what Cait had meant by the works.
Austin’s business was fantasies. Women used the services of Fantasy for Hire to fulfill a particular fantasy, whether it was a cowboy, fireman or even an uptight executive type. The business that had been started to help Austin and a few of his buddies pay off their college loans had grown. Its success was due in particular to his brother’s vision of a class act, a rule he insisted be followed to the letter.
He went to the kitchen to pour himself another cup of coffee and looked out the bay windows of the breakfast nook to the backyard, still racking his brain about Cait’s reference to “the works.” When Austin had been hired for Teddy’s birthday celebration, he’d given her a Stetson to complete her cowboy fantasy. Maybe that’s what Cait wanted. Maybe she was paying him to really be her valentine. Maybe she expected candy, flowers and an entire range of small gifts and surprises designed to live up to the agency’s motto of the ultimate fantasy, the ultimate mental seduction.
He sipped his coffee, constructing and discarding a variety of ideas worthy of the sum of money he’d been paid. If Cait Sullivan’s fantasy was to have herself a valentine, and she was willing to pay for it, then he’d just have do his part in making certain the customer’s satisfaction was guaranteed.
“HOW DOES ANYONE do anything with these blasted nails?” Cait muttered as she corrected another typo. She was going to have to do something about them. She could barely function, let alone type.
“Okay, so who is he?”
Cait looked up from her computer to the smiling face peeking over the wall of her cubicle. “What are you talking about?” She frowned at Jennifer