He's the One Jane Beckenham (best book recommendations .txt) 📖

felt it beneath her fingertips when they'd kissed. Oh, Lord.

"You're the problem."

Her heartbeat stilled and the flip-flops in her belly skidded to a halt. “I see."

"I've been trying to arrange extra staff for tonight."

"Tonight?"

"You still want to go out, don't you?"

"Out?” He means a date, stupid—a D.A.T.E.

Another of Cade's deep laughs echoed down the phone line and sent a river of shivery tingles up and down her spine.

"You're repeating everything I say. I thought you were a lady of more words than that."

Get it together, Sullivan.

"Mind you, those little breathless sighs of yours sure do put a guy in the mood."

Taylor clamped her lips together. She couldn't believe it. “You phoned."

"I said I would. You didn't believe me?” Suddenly, the timbre of Cade's voice changed, the light, teasing tone replaced by a seriousness she hadn't heard before. “When I give my word, Taylor, I mean it. I stick to it."

"And you said we'd get to know one another."

"That's why I rang."

Oh, dear Lord.

"How about tonight?"

"Tonight,” she squeaked. Tonight seemed too soon. “Know as in the biblical sense?"

"We gotta walk before we run, Taylor. I'll pick you up at seven-thirty, okay?"

She nodded, and then realized she needed to speak. “Fine.” Though she couldn't help but wonder what ‘walking’ involved. The phone clicked dead, and Taylor hit the off button and dropped it into its cradle. For several minutes she simply sat, stunned. The roller coaster ride had begun.

She glanced at her watch. Four-thirty. She had a date with Cade.

Snatching up her bag and phone, she dug deep for her keys.

"Going somewhere?” Nita walked into the office as Taylor slipped her bag over her shoulder.

"On a date.” She gave her assistant the thumbs up.

"Way to go, Taylor. Don't forget the condoms."

Oh, boy.

* * * *

For three long, scary hours Taylor paced her bedroom. She wished for the hundredth time she had never come up with such a hair-brained scheme. Besides, what the hell did a woman wear to entice a man? Taylor surveyed the heap of clothes on her bed. It had been so long; she didn't have clue. In fact, she'd never really dated. Rob had always been there. They'd gone through primary and high school together. Everyone thought of them as a couple. Always.

But always didn't work out.

Taylor eyed a gray dress and jacket, fingered the fine textured fabric while a bubble of hysteria forced her closer to turning tail and running like crazy.

"Typical. A wardrobe full of clothes and nothing to wear. Nothing remotely sexy.” Taylor sank down on to the bed and hugged the gray suit to her chest. “Boring. That's what it says. Boring, boring. All you've got is work, no life."

But how could she forge a life when others set the benchmark.

Her family. Do this. Don't do that. They “put up” with her creative side, believed she'd “see the light” and one day go to university—be just like them.

As the iridescent green numbers of the radio clock on her bedside table ticked ever closer to seven-thirty, Taylor eyed herself in the full-length mirror, saw the fear and the flush of panic coloring cheeks. She snatched up the closest dress, a sleek black sheath with cutaway shoulders. Zipping it up, she twirled and caught her reflection again.

"Tonight's the night,” she whispered and traced her lips with her fingertips.

Her eyes fluttered closed. She could feel Cade, his lips on hers. So beautiful. Heat pooled in her belly, and she dropped her hand there, sliding a soft caress over her stomach.

A knock hammered home on her front door, and her head snapped up, alert.

Damn. With clothes scattered about, the room certainly didn't resemble a passion-pit. Quickly, Taylor corralled her scattered clothes and shoved them in the wardrobe. She grabbed her jacket and purse and slipped her feet into a pair of strappy black sandals and made a beeline for the door.

Taylor swore her heart stopped as she opened the door to Cade and had to force herself to breathe. Difficult when he simply took her breath away.

Dressed in dark trousers and shirt that off-set his outdoorsy tan, Cade stood under the night light on her doorstep, a sports jacket slung over one shoulder.

He looked so very good. Taylor had to force herself not to reach out and touch him, run her fingers across his skin.

Dark eyes shrouded by long, thick lashes held her captive and his smile deepened his dimples. She wanted to kiss them.

Finally she managed to speak. “You're on time."

"You didn't think I would be?"

"I thought perhaps the bar might keep you busy."

"You don't quite believe me yet, do you, Taylor?"

Heat scalded her cheeks, and determined her guilt. Taylor chose immediate retreat. “I'm ready to go."

"What? Not going to invite me in?” he teased. Taylor chose not to argue that point and with her jacket and bag in one hand, she flicked the lock on the front door and pulled it closed.

Feathery fronds of lavender guarded either side of the path and tinged the night air as she walked with Cade towards the car. At the white picket gate, he halted and turned to her with a serious expression plastered on his face as he leant close.

Hope and expectation fired inside Taylor. Her lips parted, a shivery heat coloring her world. Was Cade going to kiss her?

"You may have put the ultimate proposal to me, Taylor, but don't fret, I won't rush you. I'm no uncouth youth who can't wait to get going. I can,” he said with determination.

Taylor swallowed hard and squashed her disappointment.

The thing was, could she?

* * * *

Cade caught her nervousness as he eased the car into the evening traffic. Funny, he felt the same. Excited. Adrenaline pumping.

He struggled to find his voice. “Hope you like seafood."

"Yes.” Her reply was quiet, almost ethereal, and it turned him on without even trying. She looked away.

Cade changed gears, wound the window down, and then back up again. He glanced over at Taylor. All stiff and rigid, hands folded tightly in her lap. He smiled. “I