effect. But what was more incredible was her belief
that he was feeding her a line. Fine. He’d go along.
He laughed lightly. “It’s my best one.”
Hawke reached for his glass again, almost
hurt by her accusation. And why the hell was he so concerned? He
took a long drink and glanced around the room in an effort to reel
in his unusual irritation. Only, much to his dismay, things would
not get better anytime soon. A cold chill climbed all thirty three
vertebrae of his spine when he spotted two reasons for Rachel’s
conclusion walking straight toward him, dressed to the nines with
tanned skin and cleavage leading the way.
He set his wineglass on the table and glanced
at Rachel to see if she’d noticed. I told you so resonated from the
depths of her eyes but she only shrugged.
Hawke actually grimaced when the two women
stopped at the table. He took a deep breath and stood. His only
option now was to see how this played out.
“Hawke,” the tall blonde purred, “I had no
idea you were still in town.”
Hawke planted a brief kiss on her cheek.
“Hello, Ava. I decided to stick around after the show this time.”
He leaned to greet the second, red-headed woman in the same manner.
“Nice to see you too, Erica.”
Ava moved her gaze to Rachel. “Business or
pleasure?”
Before he could set Ava straight, Rachel
scooted back her chair and stood to extend a hand. “Business,”
Rachel answered for him. “Rachel Newberry.”
Ava’s lips split into a grin as she halfway
shook Rachel’s hand. “Is that what you call it these days,
Hawke?”
Hawke’s eyes widened and for the very first
time in his life, he didn’t have a clue how to respond. Again,
Rachel beat him to the punch.
“I can assure you we really are discussing
business.”
Ava narrowed her violet eyes, obviously
suspicious. “What kind of business?”
Hawke waited a split second to see if Rachel
would once again intervene and then realized she couldn’t. His own
confidentiality agreement prevented it. Damn, where was his
back-up?
“Hawke.” Rachel laid her hand on his forearm.
“Why don’t you tell Ava about the real estate development venture
you’re interested in.”
Warmth seeped into his skin and spread over
his body. Rachel was sheer genius.
Hawke smiled at Ava and Erica. “Would you
ladies like to join us and hear about it?”
Ava didn’t hesitate. “I think not, Hawke. You
know I find that kind of talk boring. Besides, we’re meeting
someone.”
“It was very nice to meet the two of you,”
Rachel said as she sat back down.
Ava gave Rachel a cursory glance. “You
too.”
She leaned to place a kiss on Hawke’s cheek.
“You know the number if you get tired of real estate.”
Hawke didn’t answer, relieved when Ava and
Erica wiggled out of sight.
He sat down with a whole new respect for
Rachel’s intelligence. “How did you know she wouldn’t want to talk
real estate?”
Rachel lifted one shoulder. “Lucky
guess.”
“Well, you’re right. Ava doesn’t talk
business much.”
Rachel lowered her head for a quick moment
and then lifted it. “Did you know approximately two million women
in the U.S. have breast implants?”
Hawke paused. How was he supposed to answer
that? And more importantly, should he?
“Umm—”
“And,” she continued, oblivious to his
hesitance, “6% end up having them removed.”
Again, Hawke sat silent. Only, this time he
let his gaze drop to her chest. He didn’t even have to ask. Nothing
implanted there. And the result was absolute perfection.
He raised his gaze and cleared his throat,
hoping his next response would satisfy her. “Really?”
She nodded. “Yes. The American Medical
Association monitors those surgeries closely.”
Hawke shifted. Somehow the talk of breasts,
implants or real, had him achy and uncomfortable. And his position
wasn’t helped much when his mind flashed visions of yanking Rachel
out of her chair, plastering her to the table, ripping open her
blouse