Page 7 of Tempt Me

I stepped back into the mirrored cube and nodded at him. “Silly me, I forgot my bag.”

He’d pressed the button for the fifth floor, and using my master access card, I pressed the button for the penthouse floor.I could dream a little, couldn’t I?

“Lovely day,” he said.

“Yes, it’s beautiful.” He didn’t know the half of it.

The doors pinged open on his floor. “See ya later.” He stepped out of the elevator.

I wanted to say, ‘Yes, you will, in about half an hour or so,’ as I held the door open to see which room he went to.

Room twenty-nine.

I rode the elevator up to the penthouse suites and back down to my floor again, then returned to my apartment.

I poured myself another glass of Shaw & Smith, and as I showered and applied the abundant makeup required for my disguise, I sipped the lovely, sweet wine and wondered what the rest of my afternoon would hold.

My dress was blood red, fitted me like a second skin, and stopped high on my thigh. From the moment I put it on, I continually tugged it down. It was a very unsexy habit that I needed to stop. I chose the cute blonde wig that fell just below my ears and had a huge struggle getting my long, dark hair into it. Once it was in place, however, my sexy twin, Memphis, was back.

It was silly how confident I felt as Memphis, but as Jane, I was a bumbling mess when it came to men.

My only hope was that some of Memphis’s bravado would rub off on me soon.

Today’s choice of stiletto was a pair of very high Mollini shoes with lace crossover straps at my ankle. I matched their simple black finish with one of my large black bags, dabbed on my favorite Bobbi Brown red lippy and did my final check in the mirror.

Convinced that all traces of my boring self were gone, I smiled at my reflection and then headed for the door.

I rolled my hands down the silky fabric of my dress as I rode the elevator to the hunky gym junky’s floor. At his room, I paused to swallow back my nerves, and when the door suddenly opened, my sexy hunk just about barreled me over in his rush to exit his room.

“Oh, sorry,” he said as he found his balance by gripping the doorframe.

“Oh, no, no. I’m sorry. I must have the wrong room.”

He was obviously heading out, so my game was over. I turned toward the elevator.

“Don’t go.”

My heart leaped to my throat as I turned back to him. “Sorry?”

“I mean . . .” He scraped his fingers through his wavy blond hair. “Do you have to go? I was heading down to the bar; maybe you could join me. If you’re not busy, that is.”

I tugged on my bottom lip as my heart said, ‘hell yes’but my head said, ‘don’t be a fool.’ “Oh, umm, I really should be?—”

“Have you got a date?”

I huffed. “Pfft, no.” Then, realizing how automatic that was, I closed my eyes and turned away again, ready to sprint to the elevator, even in my eight-inch heels.

“Good,” he said. “Let’s at least have one drink and see where the night takes us.”

Before I knew it, he’d shut his door and sidled up beside me. Together, we made our way to the elevator, and he pressed the down button. “I’m Hunter McCall.” He held his hand toward me.

My palm was lost in his firm grip. “Memphis.”

“Memphis . . .?” He said it like he was expecting a surname.

My brain skidded to a stop. Why, oh why, hadn’t I thought of a surname for Memphis? At a loss, I shrugged. “Just Memphis.” I tried to smile, but my lips went all twitchy instead.

He nodded as if accepting that was all he was going to get out of me. “Okay then, Just Memphis, what brings you to the Gold Coast?”

---