Mr. Right Now

Suddenly Nina realized that Charlotte was talking to her. She raised her hand nervously. “I’m here,” she said. “Tina, I—I mean, Nina. Nina Forrester.” She groaned inwardly and bit back a curse. Now she couldn’t even remember her own name!

“Tina, I want you to find out everything you can about this NightRyder company. It’s owned by someone named Cameron Ryder. Call whoever you call and get me something, anything, on this man. I need to know everything I can about the enemy before I face him again. Oh, and find out if he’s married.” She glanced around the room. “As for the rest of you, no more spending. Cultivate new vendors who will extend us credit. Sell more ad pages. And there’ll be no more free beverages in the coffee room!”

With that, she swept out of the room, leaving her staff to wonder whether they might be better off with Cameron Ryder at the helm of Attitudes. Nina and Lizbeth hurried out in front of the crowd, anxious to regain the privacy of Nina’s office. When they closed the door behind them, they both gasped and gaped at each other.

“I suppose we ought to start revising our résumés,” Nina said.

“You don’t actually think Charlotte will sell to this NightRyder guy, do you?”

Nina shook her head. “She’s not much of a business-woman and the magazine has always struggled. But then, maybe this Ryder isn’t much of a businessman.” She reached for her computer keyboard, then looked at the screen. The moment she’d walked in that morning, she’d typed up her two ads—the “coffee collision” ad for Mr. Right and the “Adonis” ad for Mr. Right Now, still torn between which one to place.

As she stared at the screen, Nina’s mind again wandered back to her encounter with “Coffee Man.” How many times had she brushed him from her thoughts, trying to convince herself there was probably something seriously wrong with him? Maybe he picked his teeth or burped after dinner. Maybe he hated modern art or detested the theater. He could have all sorts of disgusting flaws. Like all the other men she’d met, she’d probably have dropped him sooner or later, so what was the point even wasting brain cells on him?

A soft moan slipped from her lips. But he was incredibly intriguing. She suspected he had a body to match that gorgeous face, hidden beneath his staid attire. And though she usually didn’t go for the suit-and-tie type, he wouldn’t always be wearing clothes. A delicious shiver skittered up her spine and she couldn’t help but smile.

“Well? What have you found?”

Nina blinked, then glanced up at Lizbeth. “What? Oh, nothing. It’ll take more than a few seconds.” She shook her head and turned back to the monitor, hoping to hide the warm flush that had crept up her cheeks. “But I’ll let you know as soon as I do,” she murmured, closing the document that held the two ads.

Lizbeth started toward the door. “Good luck,” she said, the usual light and teasing tone now gone from her voice. “All of us are counting on you.”

She closed the door behind her, leaving Nina to her own thoughts. Though the business with Cameron Ryder was urgent, she allowed herself just a few more moments to think about her fantasy man. Maybe if she finished up her research for Charlotte early, she’d go back to the coffee shop after work. Perhaps, he’d be there, hoping that she might return as well.

And this time, she wouldn’t be such a dope. She’d catch his eye from across the room. And then she’d smile, a hesitant, but coy smile, with maybe a hint of surprise. Then a little wave, playful but not too aggressive. After all, she didn’t want him to think she’d come looking for him on purpose. No, it was best to play hard to get—but not too hard to get.

“So how do I do that?”

She glanced down at what she’d pulled from her closet that morning. It wasn’t exactly conservative, but she thought it was pretty. “Maybe Mr. Right goes for the kind of woman who wears conservative clothes and spends more than a few minutes making herself look pretty in the morning,” she murmured, worrying over a loose thread on her jacket. She tugged on it and a button went flying across the room.

Yeah, she was smooth all right. For all she knew, Mr. Right might have a Ms. Right waiting at home, someone beautiful and sophisticated. He might even be married! Not every man wore a wedding band. Since last night, she’d spun a whole fantasy around this guy, giving him qualities she wasn’t even sure he’d possessed.

“This is ridiculous,” Nina said. “Your social life is so bad that you’ve been reduced to dreaming up a relationship with a complete stranger, turning a few minutes at Jitterbug’s into two kids, a dog and a three-bedroom house in Jersey.”

With a soft oath, she brought up the computer screen that held her two ads. Pounding furiously on the Delete key, she erased her “Coffee Collision” ad. It was time to stop dreaming and take control of her life. Mr. Right was a silly fantasy. And Mr. Right Now would have to wait until after this crisis with NightRyder was solved. For the next few days, she’d have to focus all her time and energy on just one man—the mysterious and very dangerous Cameron Ryder.

THE MARCH WEATHER had turned brisk again, a cold, damp wind swirling around the city and smelling of a late season snow. Cameron pulled his leather jacket closed as he stepped out of the cab in front of the coffee shop. He stood for a long moment on the sidewalk, trying to decide whether to venture inside. The windows were fogged and the sound of music drifted out every time the door was opened, but he waited.

He wasn’t really sure why he’d come. He’d already decided not to use Nina Forrester for information about Attitudes magazine. Too many complications. Yet, he had still made a simple phone call to the magazine and learned she was a fact checker, a job that probably didn’t put her in daily contact with the editor and publisher, Charlotte Danforth, anyway. The information she might be able to provide would be marginally valuable at best—or that’s what he chose to tell himself.

“So why the hell am I here?” Cameron muttered.

Was it curiosity? He couldn’t deny that he’d found their little encounter over a cup of coffee surprisingly intriguing. Maybe it was the contradiction, the wide-eyed naif hiding a provocative siren. He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew the ad she’d written. If he hadn’t taken it from her hand, he never would have put the two together. But then, he’d never been a very astute judge of the female mind. For a guy who didn’t have a real date until he was a junior in college, Cameron Ryder had been forced to learn fast, leaving several very pronounced gaps in his studies.

There had been women, a fair number of them since he’d started NightRyder, but never anything serious. He thought back to his days in college, to the fantasies of beautiful, sexy women, blond and leggy, with tanned and trainer-toned bodies. They were every misfit’s dream and over the past five years he’d dated—and bedded—a string of them.

But somehow, the reality had never lived up to the fantasy. Though many of the women were nice enough, there was nothing beyond the gorgeous bodies except the desire to capture a wealthy and powerful man. More and more, he’d found himself playing the role they’d wanted to him play, pretending to be someone he could never be, smooth and sophisticated, yet caught in a series of empty relationships.

So he’d stopped dating months ago, instead putting his energy back into the business. Nina Forrester was the first woman he’d found even remotely interesting in all that time. He exhaled, his breath clouding in front of his face, then pulled the door open. He hadn’t been inside more than a few moments before he saw her. She was sitting at a table over in the corner. She turned to look at some papers she’d spread in front of her and he silently studied her profile—the pretty nose, the lush lips, the golden hair that framed her face in soft tendrils.

Without thinking, he crossed the room and came to a stop beside her table. Suddenly, he wasn’t quite sure what to say. He felt as if he’d been transported back to that awful moment in high school when he’d worked up the nerve to ask the prettiest cheerleader out on a date, only to have her laugh in his face.

Cameron swallowed hard. “I owe you a cup of coffee.”

She looked up and for an instant, he thought he saw delight in her pretty blue eyes and a tiny trace of a smile curling her lips. “Hi,” she said, her voice breathless with surprise. She stood up quickly, knocking her hip against the table and nearly spilling her cup of coffee in the process. “What are you doing here?”

Cameron knew enough about women to play it cool. “I was just passing by and thought I’d give the coffee another try.”

“Oh, right,” she said, a nervous twitch of her lips passing for a smile. “I guess you didn’t get much of a taste of it last night.” She paused. “I should buy you a cup.” She motioned to the second chair at her table. “Why don’t you sit down.” Without another word, she hurried off. But a few seconds later, she returned, her face colored with a pretty blush. “How do take your coffee?” she asked.

“With just a little cream,” Cameron replied, slipping out of his jacket. He watched her return to the counter, then sat down and waited. When she came back with his coffee, he stood and pulled out her chair. But as she sat down, she caught her elbow on his arm and half the coffee spilled all over her papers.

“Oh, no!” she cried.

Cameron grabbed the cup from her hand just as it was about to dump all over his sleeve, then set it down. He handed her a stack of napkins. “You are a menace with a cup of coffee,” he teased. “Maybe we should stick to tea.”

Nina mopped up the coffee on her side of the table, then glanced up at him, gracing him with one of the most beautiful smiles he’d ever seen. “Maybe we should. Maybe it’s like that movie. I’m doomed to repeat the same clumsy mistakes over and over, every time we meet.”

“Well, I made sure to dress in brown,” he said, indicating his brown wool trousers and sweater. “So fire away. I’m ready.”

When the table was finally cleaned up, they both sat down. The blush still stained Nina’s cheeks and Cameron still wasn’t sure what to say. He’d have been completely satisfied just to sit across from her and look at her pretty face, but he guessed that she expected a little more. “Is this work?” he asked, pointing to the coffee-stained papers.

Nina nodded. “It was. I’ve got a special project I’ve been assigned. I’ve been working on it all day.”

“And where do you work?” he asked, already knowing the answer. He felt guilty even bringing up the subject of her job, considering his position, but it was a safe subject for two people who barely knew each other.

“I’m the head of research for Attitudes,” she said. “It’s a weekly magazine. Our offices are right across the street.”

He couldn’t help but smile at the embellished job title. Still, he was secretly pleased that she was trying to impress him. “Attitudes?”

“Have you ever heard of it?” She forced a smile. “I suppose not. I mean, you’re not really our type—our reader—I mean, our demographic.”

“And why is that?” Cameron asked.

“Well, you’re a little too…”

He waited as she groped for a polite way to say conservative. “Tall?” he asked. Her blush deepened and she shook her head. “Too stubborn? That’s always been a problem.” She shook her head again. “Or maybe I’m too clumsy?”

Nina laughed. “The word we’d use around the office might be ‘conservative.’ Not that that’s a bad thing. It’s just not our demographic.”

“Gee, I thought you were about to say I was too handsome or too charming.”

“Maybe I should have,” she murmured, sending him a coy look over the rim of her coffee mug. “So, what do you do?”

“I’m in…computers,” Cameron said.

“I could have guessed that,” Nina commented. “I mean, from the way you were dressed when we first met. You looked like a businessman.”

A long silence grew between them and Cameron fought the sudden urge to lean across the table and kiss her, simply to see if her lips tasted as good as they looked. Instead, he grabbed the next handiest subject. “Tell me about this project you’re working on.” Cameron pointed to the papers. “You said it was important?” He picked up his mug and took a sip of his coffee.

“There’s not much to it,” Nina replied. “I’m supposed to find out everything I can about some guy named Cameron Ryder.”

A sudden cough burst from his throat and he sucked in a deep breath, the coffee going down the wrong way. Nina’s brow furrowed in concern and she reached out and patted him on the shoulder. “Are you all right?”

He nodded. “It’s just a little hot,” he said, his eyes watering. “So, what have you found out about this guy?”

“I spent all day on the Net, downloading what I could about his company, NightRyder. But the guy who runs it keeps a pretty low profile. If I had to guess I’d say he’s some hard-hearted, ruthless businessman who buys up companies for sport, putting good people out of work, and he keeps a low profile so none of the employees he puts out of work can run over him with a bus.”

“He sounds like a real bastard,” Cameron said.

“This NightRyder, it’s a news and information site. Very trendy, very popular with our magazine’s demographic. He wants to buy Attitudes and turn himself into some media mogul. My boss doesn’t want to sell.”

“And what else have you learned?”

“Not much. I can’t even find a photo of the guy, except for this.” She slid a paper over towards him. “It’s his high school graduation picture. He looks like kind of a geek. But I guess even geeks can turn into bastards given enough power and money.”

Cameron winced inwardly. Damn, he hated when that picture surfaced in the media. He’d done his best to stay out of the glare of the paparazzi, avoiding photographers like the plague. But for lack of a more current photo, they always trotted out the senior picture—the pimply-faced, pencil-necked doofus with the thick glasses. And he was once again faced with a reminder of the first eighteen years of his life.

But there was one advantage to the photo. There was no way Nina Forrester would recognize him. Hell, he barely recognized himself. “He doesn’t look very ruthless to me. He looks like the kind of kid who eats paste and spends most of his day stuffed in a locker. See there,” he said, pointing to the picture. “He’s got louver marks on his forehead.”

She snatched the picture away from him and put it back in her folder. “If he buys the magazine, I’ll probably be out of a job.” Nina shook her head. “But I really don’t want to think about that now.” The gloomy look dissolved from her face and she smiled again. “Why don’t we talk about something else? You know, I don’t even know your name.”

Cameron opened his mouth, about to introduce himself, then thought better of it. She already believed him to be a ruthless bastard. If he told her who he really was she might just heave the rest of her coffee in his face. “And I don’t know your name,” he said, surprised with his smooth reply.

“It’s Nina. Nina Forrester.”

She held out her hand and he took it, grasping her delicate fingers with his. A current of electricity shot through his arm, warming his blood. How could a simple touch affect him so strongly? He wanted to lace his fingers with hers and bring them to his lips. He noticed that she was wearing green nail polish to match the deep green of her satin jacket. He liked it, even though it was an odd color. Odd looked good on her. When he felt her gently tug her fingers away, he let go.

“What about you?” she asked after a long silence.

“Me? I don’t usually wear nail polish.”

Nina giggled and gave him an odd look. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, it’s…Wright,” he said, taking the first name that came to mind while still completely captivated by her eyes. After all, that’s who she was looking for, wasn’t it?

“Right?” she asked. “Like Mr. Right? R-I-G-H-T?”

He shook his head. “W-R- Like Wilbur and Orville. I think we might even be related.”

Her brow arched. “And do you have a first name? Or would you prefer I call you Mister?”

“Jack. Jack Wright.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Jack Wright.”

Suddenly, he didn’t want to talk about her work. He wanted to find out much more about this enchanting woman sitting in front of him. He wanted to listen to her voice and watch the lively play of emotion on her face as she spoke. He wanted to lose himself in her brilliant blue eyes and warm himself beneath her smile. “Would you like to get out of here? Maybe take a walk or get something to eat?”

She smiled and he was certain she was about to accept his invitation, but then she shook her head. “I can’t. I have a lot of work to do. My boss expects a report first thing tomorrow morning on this Cameron Ryder and I haven’t found anything to give her. I’m going to have to go back to the office.”

Cameron was tempted to give her everything she wanted just to spend a little more time with her. He’d tell her about his childhood, his stumbles toward puberty, the awful teenage years and the grind through college. He’d give her his banker’s number, his attorney’s number. Anything she wanted to know, he’d tell her. But Cameron knew that wasn’t possible. For now, he was better off hiding behind the guise of Mr. Wright. “If you can’t have dinner tonight, how about lunch tomorrow?”

She stood and gathered up her papers. “All right. Lunch would be fine.”

Cameron slipped out of his chair and helped her into her coat, allowing his hands to rest on her shoulders for a few minutes. He leaned closer and drew a deep breath. Her hair smelled like fresh air and flowers. Then she stepped away, walking toward the door. Cam tossed a few bills on the table for a tip, then followed her.

When they reached the sidewalk, an uneasy silence settled between them. This was the time he was supposed to say something incredibly clever or smooth, so she’d invite him back to her apartment. But Cam couldn’t come up with anything except, “Can I give you a ride? We can share a cab.”

Nina giggled. “I’m just going across the street.”

Cameron groaned inwardly. The doofus gene had asserted itself again, just when he thought he’d managed to knock it out of his DNA. “Right,” he said. He rubbed his hands together. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch?”

“Lunch,” she repeated. “Where?”

“I’ll pick you up at your office.”

She nodded, then took a step toward the curb. As she did, Nina turned back to look at him and all Cam knew at that moment was he didn’t want to let her go, not yet. He grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. And then, without even considering the consequences, he brought his mouth down on hers in a soft, but hungry kiss.

Never in his life had he acted so impulsively. But with Nina, it didn’t pay to think. The moments flew past so quickly, that he couldn’t help but reach out and catch one and hold onto it for a time. He’d meant only to indulge in a brief kiss, but when she wrapped her arms around his neck, he gently pushed her back until she stood against the brick facade of the coffee shop. Slowly, Cameron explored her mouth, tasting and testing. When he finally found the strength to pull away, he brought his hand up to her cheek and skimmed her silken skin.

She swallowed hard, her eyes wide and dewy. “If—if I tell you something, will you promise not to take it the wrong way?”

Cameron nodded. “I’ll try.”

“I was hoping you’d stop by the coffee shop tonight,” she murmured. “That’s why I came.” A pretty blush stained her cheeks and her gaze dropped to his chest.

“And I was hoping you’d be here.” He reached down and caught a finger under her chin. Then, without a second thought, he leaned forward and brushed another kiss across her lips. “I’ll call you,” he murmured, his eyes fixed on her mouth for a long moment.

“You don’t have my phone number.”

“But I know where you work,” he countered. “We can decide where we want to go for lunch.”

Nina nodded. “That would be nice.” Slowly, reluctantly, she stepped out of his embrace. She sent him one last smile, then turned and hurried across the street. Cameron watched until she disappeared through the front door of Attitudes, then he let out a tightly held breath.

With a soft curse, he raked his hand through his hair and shook his head. “I sure hope you figure out what the hell you’re doing, Ryder. Because once she finds out who you really are, she’s not going to want to kiss you anymore. Hell, you’ll be lucky if she lets you live.”

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? I’ve been waiting for you all morning!” Nina called.

Lizbeth hurried through the hallway to the fashion offices, Nina falling into step beside her. “I had a photo shoot,” Lizbeth explained. “I’m just back for a few minutes. Hervé insists that we use that silly fedora. He thinks it’s sexy—I just think it looks stupid.”

“But I have to talk to you. Can’t you stay for a few minutes?”

When they reached Lizbeth’s office, Nina followed her inside and slammed the door behind her. Unlike her own office, which was neatly filled with books and binders full of useful information, Lizbeth’s office looked like a bomb had exploded in a designer showroom. Clothes and accessories were scattered everywhere, hanging from shelves, tossed over chairs, folded on the floor. Nina wasn’t sure how Lizbeth kept anything straight since all the clothes seemed to be black.

“I’ve got three minutes,” Lizbeth said. “Talk fast.”

“All right, here’s the condensed version. I saw him again last night. We kissed, three or four times, I can’t even remember. And it was so incredible. And he’s coming here to take me out to lunch.”

Lizbeth looked up. “What?”

“The coffee guy,” Nina explained, “from Jitterbug’s. His name is Wright. Can you believe that? Is that too perfect? Jack Wright. W-R, not with just an R. He was in there last night and we—”

Lizbeth held out her hand to stop Nina’s words, then slowly circled her desk and sat down. “Honey, Hervé can do without that hat. Tell me all the details.”

“But I thought you—”

“I have all the time in the world for your love life,” Lizbeth cried.

Nina sighed, then sat down across the desk from her and began to recount the events of the night before. She made a special point of telling Lizbeth how she refused his invitation to dinner. “That was good, right? I mean, I didn’t want to seem too enthusiastic, or too easy.”

“You did very well.”

She smiled proudly. “I did. And oh, he just makes me feel so good. I get all warm inside and my knees go a little soft and my brain doesn’t seem to work right, and—and I can barely breathe. Do you know that feeling?”

Lizbeth raised an eyebrow. “Honey, I invented that feeling. Now, when is he coming to take you to lunch?”

“In about fifteen minutes,” Nina said.

She gave Nina the once-over. “That gives us just enough time.”

“For what?”

“To fix you up.”

Nina glanced down at the outfit she’d so carefully chosen that morning. The little sweater dress was from the sixties, pale melon pink with bugle bead starbursts on the cuffs, collar and hem. She considered it a conservative choice paired with knee-high black boots. Nina had taken special care with her hair, wearing it loose and unbound in soft waves, pushed away from her face by a black headband. “What’s wrong?”