“It was in this morning’s paper. Quite the article.”
Tyson shook his head as he took a sip of his drink. Leave it to his mother, Eden Tyson Steele, to make sure the entire city knew about the birth of her first grandchildren. Twins. A boy and a girl that represented a new generation of Steeles in Phoenix. Everyone was happy for his brother Galen and his wife, Brittany, but his mother was ecstatic beyond reason. Within the past three years, not only had three of her six die-hard bachelor sons gotten married, but as of last night she also had a grandson and granddaughter to boast about.
He wondered if Galen was aware of the article in this morning’s paper since he hadn’t mentioned it when Tyson had spoken to him earlier. Knowing their mother, Tyson wouldn’t be surprised if the announcement appeared in the New York Times next. A former international model whose face had graced the covers of such magazines as Vogue, Cosmo and Elle, his mother still had connections in a lot of places and had no shame in using them.
Miles’s beeper went off and with an anxious sigh he said, “Need to run. I got an emergency at the hospital.”
“Take care,” Tyson told his colleague, who moved quickly toward the exit door. He then glanced around. Notorious was a popular nightclub in Phoenix, but not too many people were here tonight due to the March Madness championship basketball game being held in town. Usually, on any given night, Tyson could have his pick of single women crowding the place, but not tonight.
His brothers had tried talking him into attending the game with them, but he’d declined after his team had been eliminated in the previous round. It didn’t matter one bit when they’d laughed and called him a sore loser. So what if he was.
Tyson took another sip of his drink and checked his watch. It was still early, but he might as well call it a night since it seemed he would be going home alone, which wasn’t how he’d envisioned spending his evening. Taking some woman to bed had been at the top of his agenda. Scoring was the name of the game. Women hit on him and he hit on women. No big deal. It was the lay of the land. His land anyway.
He stood to leave at the same time the nightclub’s door swung open and three women walked in. Three good-looking women. He sat back down, thinking that maybe the night wouldn’t be wasted after all.
Not to be caught staring, he turned around on the bar stool. The huge mirror on the wall afforded him the opportunity to check out the women without being so obvious. Good, he noted. No rings. That was the first thing he looked for since he didn’t believe in encroaching on another man’s territory. Tyson figured it must be his lucky night when they were shown to a table within the mirror’s view. The women were so busy chatting that they didn’t realize he was checking them out.
For some reason his gaze kept returning to one of the women in particular. She looked familiar and it took a second or two before it hit him just who she was.
Hunter McKay.
Damn. It had been years. Eighteen, to be exact. She had been two years behind him in high school, and of all the girls he’d dated during that time, she was the only one with whom he hadn’t been able to score. She’d had the gall to ask for a commitment before giving up the goods, and unlike some guys, who would have lied just to get inside her panties, he’d told her the very same thing then that he was telling women now. He didn’t do commitments. His refusal to make her his steady girl had prompted her to end things between them after the first week. It had been the first time a Steele had ever been shot down. For months his brothers had teased him, calling Hunter “the one who got away.” He frowned, wondering why that memory still annoyed him.
When he’d returned to Phoenix after medical school he’d heard she attended Yale to fulfill her dream of being an architect. After college she had made her home in Boston and returned to town only occasionally to visit her parents. Their paths had never crossed until tonight.
He’d also heard she had gotten married to some guy she’d met while living in Boston. So where was her ring? She could be getting it cleaned, resized or...maybe she was no longer married. He couldn’t help wondering which of those possibilities applied.
Hunter had been a striking beauty back then and she still was. It had been that beauty that had captured his interest back in the day and was doing so now. It didn’t appear as if she’d aged much at all. She still had that young-girl look, and those dimples in both cheeks were still pretty damn pleasing to the eyes.
The shoulder-length curly hair had been replaced with a short natural cut that looked good on her, and he couldn’t help it when his gaze lingered on her lips. He could still remember the one and only time he’d kissed her. It has been way too short, yet oh so sweet.
He felt an ache in his groin and didn’t find it surprising since it was a familiar reaction whenever he saw a beautiful woman. But it was Hunter who was affecting him, not the other two women. He remembered them from high school as well, but had forgotten their names. What he did recall was that they had been Hunter’s best friends even back then.
“Ready for another drink, Doc?”
He glanced up at Tipper, who’d been the bartender at Notorious for years. “Not yet, but do me a favor.”
Tipper grinned. “As long as it’s legal.”
“It is. Whatever drinks those three ladies are having, I want them put on my tab.”
Tipper glanced over at the table where the women sat and nodded. “No problem. I’ll let their waiter know.”
“Thanks.”
Tipper walked off and Tyson’s gaze returned to the mirror. At that moment Hunter threw her head back and laughed at something one of the women said. He’d always thought she had a sensuously shaped neck, flawless and graceful. He’d looked forward to placing a hickey right there on the side of it. It was the place he would brand all the girls in high school who’d gone all the way with him. It had been known as the Mark of Tyson. But Hunter had never gotten that mark. What a pity.
His cell phone pinged with a text message and he pulled his phone out of his jacket to read his brother Mercury’s message. My team is up four. Be ready to celebrate later tonight.
Tyson clicked off the phone and rolled his eyes. When hell freezes over, he thought. If his brothers thought he was a sore loser, then Mercury could be an obnoxious winner, and Tyson wanted no part of it tonight. After returning the phone to his jacket, he let his gaze return to the mirror and to Hunter. He couldn’t help but smile when he made up his mind about something. Her name might be Hunter but tonight he was determined to make her his prey.
* * *
Hunter McKay appreciated sharing this time with her two best friends from high school—Maureen Santana, whom everyone fondly called Mo, and Kathryn Elliott, whose nickname was Kat. Both had been bridesmaids in her wedding and because they’d kept in touch over the years, they’d known about her rocky marriage and subsequent divorce from Carter Robinson. Mo, a divorcée herself, thought Hunter had given Carter far too many chances to get his act together, and Kat, who was still holding out for Mr. Right, had remained neutral until Carter had begun showing his true colors.
“Here you are, ladies,” the waiter said, placing their drinks in front of them. “Compliments of the gentleman sitting at the bar.”
Their gazes moved past the waiter to the man in question. As if on cue, he swiveled around in his seat and flashed them a smile. Hunter immediately felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach, a flutter that should have been forgotten long ago. But just that quickly, after all these years, it had resurfaced the moment she stared into the pair of green eyes that could only belong to a Steele.
“Well now, isn’t that nice of Tyson Steele,” Mo said with mock sweetness. “I wonder which one of us he wants to take home tonight.”
“Take home?” Hunter asked, while her eyes remained on Tyson. For some reason she couldn’t break her gaze. It was as if she was caught in the depths of those gorgeous green eyes.
“Yes,