The Rules Read online

  The elevator doors opened and Gavin walked out.

  “Hey, Lana and I are going to The Underground tonight. You coming?”

  The Underground was a club known for its hip-hop and indie rock music. Up and coming artists used it as a testing ground and launch pad for their music careers.

  “You kids go ahead. I’m done for the night.” He strolled out of the building to the valet, who handed him the key to his vehicle. “By the way, I need a manicure. Where did you say Alannah’s friend…ah, what’s her name…Terri, worked again?”

  The halting question had been completely phony. He remembered her first and last name, the exact shade of her dark brown eyes, the shape of her soft-looking lips, and from visual inspection alone had a pretty good idea of her measurements.

  “I didn’t.”

  Gavin handed the young man another fifty. When he’d arrived at the building with Blake, he’d handed him fifty dollars and whispered the request to leave the car parked nearby. “Just tell me where she works.”

  “You can have a manicurist go out to your house.”

  “I want to try someone new.” Gavin slid into the interior of the black Porsche Spyder, a two-seater convertible with black interior and one of only five models available in the world.

  “You need to talk to Lana on this one. Hold on.”

  Gavin waited, tapping his thumb on the steering wheel and watching a drunk couple lean on each other, staggering toward the entrance of the building where the doorman swung open the door and let them in.

  “Hi, Gavin.”

  “Hi, beautiful.”

  “You’re not going to hurt my friend, are you?”

  “What? I’m wounded right down to my soul. You’ve known me for over twenty years.”

  “That’s why I’m asking.”

  Gavin shook his head and laughed. “You might have a point. I promise not to hurt your friend. Does that satisfy you?”

  “I guess it’ll have to do. Terri didn’t say anything to me, but I have the impression she might be interested in you. She works at Beauty Studio Salon & Spa.”

  “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Gavin started the car and connected the Bluetooth. “Thank you, beautiful. Is your husband going to be up for squash tomorrow morning after the two of you get through partying tonight?”

  Alannah repeated the question and Trenton came back on the phone.

  “I’ll be there and ready to beat your ass.”

  “I’m tired of beating your ass.” Gavin pulled into the Seattle nighttime traffic.

  “You want to put some money on it?” Trenton asked.

  “You already owe me twenty grand that I have a sneaking suspicion I’ll never see.”

  “How about we put up another twenty thousand, winner takes all?”

  He shook his head, laughing at the challenge. “I would say I hate taking your money, except you don’t pay your debts.”

  “You scared now that we’re talking about real money? Is that it?”

  “All right, I’ll be there. Winner takes all, which means you’ll owe me forty thousand dollars when you lose.”

  “I don’t plan to lose, so you’ll owe me forty thousand. Cash only, no checks. I’ll see you at seven.”

  Gavin hung up and turned on the radio, letting the smooth jazz notes of a saxophone fill the interior as the city lights whizzed by outside the window. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Terri Slade since he met her last weekend. Now that he knew where she worked, he had every intention of seeing her again.

  Chapter Four

  Terri tossed off her black smock and rolled her neck and shoulders to loosen the knots of fatigue embedded in the muscles. The manager, Susan, came in, a perky blonde whose fiery personality surprised anyone foolish enough to think they could run all over her because of her diminutive size.

  “Don’t leave yet.”

  Terri moaned. “No, don’t say that. I need a break.” After a ten-hour shift, she looked forward to falling into bed and sleeping the night away, after she tore through a large pizza and a two-liter bottle of Pepsi.

  Susan placed one hand on her hip. “You can leave after this last customer. He asked for you.”

  Terri didn’t have many male customers, so a man asking for her came as a surprise. “What does he need?”

  “A basic manicure.”

  That she could handle, and male clients tipped very well. “All right.” She looped the apron over her head and tied the strings in the back. “Who is it?”

  “He’s not a regular, but he said he was referred to you.” Susan smiled oddly, as if bursting to spill some information but thought it would be better to wait.

  Too tired to care, Terri said, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  As Susan walked out, Terri went over to the mirror on the wall and checked her makeup. She dug a tube of mauve lipstick from her pocket and retouched the color. With a quick fluff of her dark hair, she took a deep breath and fixed a smile on her face, tricking her body into thinking she was no longer tired, and ensuring she’d receive a nice tip from her male customer.

  She exited the back, and when her eyes landed on the sole male in the waiting area standing at the counter, she pulled up short. Gavin stood there, head bent over his phone and wearing a black long-sleeved Ed Hardy T-shirt and faded jeans.

  With his fine ass.

  He looked up, and she had a full view of his face and those oh-so-dreamy eyes. Her tummy did an odd little tumble, and she walked over, taking a quiet, deep breath to calm her nerves.

  “Hello, Mr. Johnson.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, pretending to search for someone. “You talking to me? I’m Gavin.”

  Terri resisted smiling and basking in the warmth of that seductive smile. “Okay, Gavin.”

  “That’s better.” He held up his hands, fingers spread wide. “Can you do anything to fix these?”

  She couldn’t see a thing wrong with his hands. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said, playing along. “Follow me, please.”

  She led him back to her station and instructed him to sit on the opposite side of the table. A few people looked their way. An older male stylist whispered to a younger female stylist with cherry-colored hair, and a customer seated diagonally across the room from them stared. No doubt they recognized him as Gavin Johnson, an heir to Johnson Enterprises, a multibillion-dollar beer and restaurant empire.

  “A basic manicure, correct?” Terri asked.

  “Correct.”

  “No color?” She couldn’t resist teasing.

  “No color.” The corner of his mouth twitched.

  Terri held up the price sheet. “Do you need a scrub, or…”

  “Whatever you think.”

  “I think you don’t need a manicure.”

  Gavin shrugged. “No one needs a manicure, but that doesn’t mean regular maintenance isn’t a good idea. You’re doing a terrible job at selling your services, by the way.”

  “Maybe because I doubt you’re really here for service.”

  “And why would I be here?”

  “You tell me.”

  “This is a spa, and I heard it’s a great one. I personally like to take care of myself—keep my hands nice and soft. So I came to the best.”

  “Is that right? I’m surprised you manage to take such good care of yourself with all the crazy shit you do.” She froze. “Pardon my French.” She had gotten way too comfortable with him.

  He wore an amused smile. “You’re right. I do a lot of crazy shit.”

  Terri relaxed and placed a jar of scrub on top of the table. “Why is that?”

  “Why do you think?”

  “That’s for you to say. I have no idea.”

  He paused, as if really considering the question. “It’s the adrenalin rush. Pushing my body to the limit is exciting.”

  “And of course, you get a lot of attention from the media.” Terri set a sponge and other materials on the table.

  “I don’t do any st
unts for the attention.” His voice sounded a little harsh, but almost immediately, his somber expression shifted and the smile reappeared. “Tempting fate is fun. Exciting. Whenever something excites me, I want to do it again…and again.”

  His gaze held hers and heat spanned the length of her neck. The innuendo in his words conjured thoughts of dark, sweat-slick bodies wrapped around each other.

  “Real subtle,” Terri said.

  She took one hand in hers. It was surprisingly soft, which meant he took good care of his hands. She rubbed the scrub into his skin.

  “You have plans tonight?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “With Dereon?”

  “Careful now. You keep screwing up his name, and I’ll think you’re jealous.”

  “Maybe I am.”

  Terri scooped more scrub into her palm and ignored the comment.

  “Don’t you feel sorry for me?” A smile played at the corners of his mouth.

  “No.”

  She worked quietly for a few minutes. His eyes followed the movements of her fingers massaging the granules into his skin, circling his palm, and easing up to his wrist.

  “You have a bed in the back?” Gavin asked, throatily.

  “A what? No. Why?”

  “You keep touching me like that and we’re going to need one.”

  Terri’s hands stilled. “I like to be thorough.”

  “Me, too,” he said, holding her gaze.

  Terri’s heart skipped a beat, certain the level of Gavin’s thoroughness exceeded the average lover. From what she knew of him, he did nothing halfway, and the sexual performance promised in his eyes shortened her breath with anticipation.

  She picked up a flat, damp sponge and began cleansing his hands. “I’m not going to do it,” she finally said.

  “Do what?”

  “Give you my number.”

  “I’m not leaving without it.”

  Again, she paused. Confidence in a man was her ultimate weakness, and Gavin possessed enough for ten men.

  Using the sponge, she dragged the last bit of product from his fingers and then started pushing back the cuticle. As she finished up the manicure, he shared a little about himself. Not surprisingly, he’d visited every continent in the world, including going on a private expedition to Antarctica that he funded himself. There didn’t seem to be anything this man couldn’t do.

  They wrapped up the session and both stood.

  “Great job.” Gavin looked at his hands. “They’re baby soft.”

  “You’re welcome.” Terri untied her apron.

  “You’re leaving now?” Gavin asked.

  “That’s the plan.”

  “I’ll walk you out.” Without waiting for an answer, he left her station and Terri watched his broad back move toward the front of the spa. She went to the back and tossed her apron in the hamper with the others. She found Gavin in the waiting area, and when she approached, he extended a hand to her.

  “A little something for you,” he said, handing her a folded bill.

  Terri took it and raised her eyebrows when she saw the one-hundred-dollar bill, the most generous tip she’d ever received. She glanced at a customer who quickly averted her eyes to the magazine in her lap.

  Stepping closer to whisper, Terri caught a good whiff of him. She resisted the urge to lean in close and press her nose to the strong chord of his neck.

  “This is way too much,” she said in a low voice. “The manicure didn’t even cost this much.”

  “I appreciate good service,” he said, equally low. His gaze dipped to her mouth, and Terri’s lips tingled with awareness at the intense focus of his stare. Did he conduct every act with such intensity, she wondered. The swooning sensation overcame her again, and she took several steps back into safer territory.

  Breathing easier, she clutched the bill and watched Gavin’s mouth turn up into a smile, one that hinted at his awareness of her strong attraction to him. Without saying a word, he walked toward the door and opened it, waiting for her to pass through, which she did when her feet started working again.

  They crossed the parking lot and came to a standstill at her black Jimmy SUV.

  “You definitely don’t have a man,” Gavin remarked. He swiped a finger through the dirt on the car.

  Terri slapped away his hand. “Do you mind? And how does having a dirty car prove that I don’t have a man, anyway?”

  “Because no self-respecting man would let his woman drive around in a vehicle that looks like this. It’s just not done. Not even by a guy named Dagwood.”

  “His name is—you know what, never mind.” She turned the key in the lock and popped the locks.

  “What are you about to do?” Gavin asked.

  “Leave.”

  “After you leave.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “You hungry?”

  “No.” Her stomach growled, putting her on blast.

  One of Gavin’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Maybe a little bit,” Terri confessed. “I was going to grab a pizza on the way home.”

  “So you don’t really have plans after all.”

  Caught in a lie, Terri remained quiet.

  Gavin stuffed his hands in his pockets and rolled onto the balls of his feet, taking a good look at the vehicle. “Tell you what, let’s get this car cleaned and we’ll grab a couple slices at the pizza joint across the street from the detail shop.”

  “Did I ask for your help?”

  “No, but I’m giving it to you.” He pulled a phone from his pocket and punched in a number, then lifted it to his ear. “Faison, buddy. How are you?”

  His profile lit up with a bright smile. Goodness, he was gorgeous. Disgustingly attractive.

  “What are you doing?” Terri whispered.

  Gavin lifted a finger to silence her. “I have a situation here.” He wrinkled his nose at the car.

  She pursed her lips and tapped her foot. She’d had just about enough of him dissing her car. “If you don’t mind, I need to leave and—”

  He lifted a finger again, silencing her. “I need you to take care of a vehicle for me. An SUV. Full detail. I’m talking the works.” He opened the driver door and peeked in at the dusty floor mat and scraped a ketchup stain on the seat. “Inside and out. Can you fit me in right now?” He listened and then nodded. “It belongs to friend. Yeah. Uh-huh….okay. We’ll be there in ten.”

  He replaced the phone in his pocket and held out his hand. “Keys.”

  Fisting both hands on her hips, Terri angled her head toward him. “Now you want to drive my car?”

  “What are you worried about?”

  “I don’t like people taking over my life.”

  “I’m not taking over your life. I’m taking your car to be cleaned and buying you a couple slices of pizza. You don’t like clean cars and free food?”

  Her mouth clamped shut.

  “Keys.” Gavin held out his hand again.

  “Why do you have to drive?”

  “Because I know where I’m going and it’s easier. You going to keep playing twenty questions?”

  “Are you always this pushy?”

  “If you’re going to hang with me, you need to go with the flow.”

  “Who says I want to hang with you?” Terri demanded.

  “Of course you do. Why wouldn’t you want to hang with me?” His brow furrowed in puzzlement. He had such a high opinion of himself.

  His railroading actions felt all too familiar, and her instinctive response was to push back because she didn’t before. She lost herself, but this time was different. Pizza and a car wash did not mean he was taking over her life. Calmed and viewing the situation clearly, she could admit that he was only being nice.

  Sighing, Terri slapped the keys into his hand. “You really do always get what you want, don’t you?”

  A cocky smile came on his face. “I’m a Johnson. I don’t know any other way.”

  Terri huffed and walked arou
nd to the passenger side. She put her hand to open the door, but was practically shoved out of the way by Gavin, who opened it for her.

  “What the hell?”

  “What are you doing?” he demanded.

  “I’m trying to get in the car.”

  “And I’m opening the door for you.” He swung it wide.

  “Why?”

  He shot her an odd look, as if he couldn’t believe she’d asked such a thing. “Because you’re a lady.”

  The surprising answer pricked her heart. He hadn’t opened the door because he was a gentleman. He opened it because she was a lady.

  A small lump suddenly appeared in her throat. “Thank you,” she mumbled, eyes darting away from his.

  She settled in the seat and watched him go around to the driver’s side and then climb in.

  A little shell-shocked by his words, she still couldn’t speak. No one had ever called her a lady, and she certainly couldn’t recall being treated like one on too many occasions.

  Gavin started the Jimmy and pulled out of the parking lot.

  On the road, he turned to her and smiled, continuing to chip away at the barrier of cool she had erected to protect against the charms of men like him.

  “So tell me, what kind of pizza do you like?”

  Chapter Five

  The pizza joint turned out to be a high-end restaurant that served hand-tossed pizza created from fresh dough made in-house daily. Terri and Gavin sat at the counter where they could watch the pizza makers in the open kitchen. They entertained the patrons by tossing the dough high in the air and then shoving the finished product into the wood fire oven to cook.

  Terri devoured two large slices of the best cheesiest mushroom pizza she had ever eaten and washed down the calories with a cream soda. While Gavin spoke to the owner and waitress, she watched him, observing the way his relaxed body bent over the counter while engaging in friendly banter. Nothing pretentious about him at all, intriguing her all the more. He seemed to be a multi-layered individual, pushy and arrogant on the one hand, yet friendly, down-to-earth, and considerate on the other.

  They left the restaurant after Faison called and told Gavin the Jimmy was ready, and Terri gasped when she saw the transformation. Instead of a dull, hideous gray color from dirt, the new wax job gave the exterior the reflective surface of a shiny black pearl. In all honesty, it looked like a brand new car, and the insides doused with the pineapple-scented freshener she requested made for a satisfying olfactory experience when Gavin opened the door for her.