Isabel Sharpe

The Wild Side


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what I’m after.” Melissa swallowed some tea and shook her head emphatically. “Husbands come with the whole truckload of Having a Relationship. I want it free of the cargo this time, so I can try out being someone different, just for a while.”

      “I see.” Rose put her tea down slowly. “Well, I’m hardly the one to talk you out of it. You’re sure this is what you want? I mean, most women find it hard to…be intimate without falling in love.”

      “But you don’t.”

      “No.” Again the rueful smile. “I don’t.”

      “Well, I won’t know for sure until I try, but if I’m acting out a personality that isn’t really me, and he’s not the kind of average nice guy I usually go for, then I don’t think the risk of real love is high.” Melissa shrugged, stilling her hands, which had been twisting in her lap. “And if I get hurt, it’s my fault. I asked for it.”

      “True.” Rose sat quietly for a moment, then slapped her thigh. “So. If you’re sure, I know I can help you.”

      “Oh. Wow. That’s great.” Melissa forced a smile, suddenly on the verge of panicking. What the hell did she expect? She was here because she knew Rose could help her.

      Rose stood and went over to the window, glanced out rather anxiously, then perched on the sill. “I wonder if I could ask you a favor, too.”

      “Sure, of course.”

      “I need a place to…get away from it all for a while. I don’t have much money, and I thought maybe if your family’s condo in the Berkshires was free, you could…rent it to me cheap in exchange for Tom?”

      Tom. The name shot a shiver through Melissa’s body. Oh, geez. “I…don’t see why not. My parents don’t usually go up until mid-July. But I’d have to check with them.”

      “That would be great. I really need a vacation.” Rose smiled, but her hands clenched the sill beneath her. “At any rate, Tom would be perfect. He’s the friend of a friend—they may have dated briefly. Amanda can’t say enough about him—handsome, sexy, gentle. One of those guys who’s into women but not commitment. You’ll probably like him.”

      “Oh. Wow. Okay.” Melissa nodded rapidly, feeling like a complete fool.

      Rose headed to the phone. “And if you don’t, it’s not like you have to do anything. I’ll call Amanda for his number. Are you free tomorrow night?”

      “Uh. Yes. I’m free.” Tomorrow? Was she ready for this? Tomorrow? Did she really want to? This was totally terrifying.

      Rose picked up the phone and dialed, smiling at Melissa. She chatted with Amanda and got Tom’s number. Half fascinated, half freaking, Melissa gulped, feeling as if she’d run out of air and saliva at the same time. The entire twenty minutes she’d spent in Rose’s apartment had had a surreal quality. She couldn’t quite seem to grasp that this was really happening, as if the whole scene might be just another daydream.

      Rose reached to dial Tom’s number, then stopped, hand in midair, and bit her lip. “Uh, Melissa…why don’t you go home and check with your parents about the condo? I’ll try Tom and let you know about tomorrow.”

      “Yeah. Okay. Great.” Melissa gulped the last of her tea and beat a hasty retreat. Back in her apartment, she called her parents, hands shaking. What was she going to say? Hi, Mom, hi, Dad. I need to rent our condo to a friend in exchange for wild sex with a guy I don’t know. Would that be okay?

      Her dad answered and summoned her mom to the phone. Somehow, Melissa managed to stammer out the request, brushing aside their numerous concerned questions. Yes, she was fine, just a little tired. Yes, the job was great. Yes, she was eating well. No, she didn’t miss Bill. Okay, no problem, bye.

      Poor Rose. Melissa hung up the phone, disappointed. Her parents were opening the condo early this year, to celebrate their fortieth anniversary over Fourth of July weekend.

      Immediately a knock sounded on the door. It was Rose, looking a little anxious. “Did they say it was okay?”

      “I’m sorry. They’re using the place this weekend. They almost never go up this early. I didn’t expect it to be a problem.”

      “Oh.” Rose tried to smile, but it was a ghastly effort. “Thanks for trying.”

      Melissa looked at her curiously, wondering exactly what she was so eager to get away from. Maybe one of her guys had turned stalker on her. “Rose, are you—”

      “I spoke to Tom.” Rose broke in nervously, as if she knew what the question would be. “You’re all set.”

      “Oh?” Melissa’s voice yodeled on the one syllable. This was it. Another step along the way; another part of the transition into the woman she hoped to explore.

      Help.

      “Eight o’clock, tomorrow night. My place.” Rose cracked a brittle smile, not quite meeting Melissa’s eyes. “He said it’ll be his pleasure.”

      “I HAVE A DATE TOMORROW?” Riley stopped, one foot-long sub sandwich in each hand, and curled his lip at his grinning friend. “I was going to take Leo to the movies so my sister could have an evening to herself.”

      “I know little Leo needs a man in his life, but so, apparently, does the fair Miss Rose. You get to be some guy named Tom.” Slate leaned back in his chair and raised his eyebrows suggestively, obviously relishing being back in the trenches. “She wants sex lessons.”

      “Sex lessons? You have got to be kidding.” Riley grabbed plates from his cabinet and plunked the sandwiches down, feeling as if he’d eaten something rotten. This Rose person was bad news. “Why the hell would a woman like that need lessons?”

      Slate shrugged. “I guess even professionals like to keep in shape, though according to the Feds she’s not actually a hooker.”

      “Just your friendly neighborhood hedonist. Not a hell of a lot of difference if you ask me.” Riley banged the plates on the Shaker-style table he’d made in his basement workshop, his stomach churning. Sex lessons. Of all the stupid games…with something that should be so natural. “Are you sure you heard right? It wasn’t Tom that needed the lessons from her?”

      “I’m sure. I’m guessing playing teacher floats Tommy’s salami.” Slate took a huge bite of his sub and chewed; his boyish blue eyes crinkled mischievously. “Some guys are into that stuff.”

      “Oh, man.” Riley took a swig of milk and pushed his plate away. “They didn’t train me for this in the marines.”

      “You’d rather penetrate Iraqi lines than the fair Ms. Rose?”

      Riley glared at him. “Forget lessons. I’ll show up as the plumber.”

      “And investigate her pipes?” Slate blinked innocently as Riley rolled his eyes in disgust. “This is the perfect setup, Riley. If you can’t find the portrait the good senator ditched with her on the first go-around, you have a good excuse to go back—provided you can find something to teach her.”

      Riley dropped his head in his hands and groaned. He’d have to call Karen and reschedule the time with Leo. Slate was making too much sense. The FBI had backed Captain Watson’s insistence that Riley develop a friendship with Rose so he could search the apartment and find out what she knew.

      Unfortunately, any searching while she was gone would attract undesired attention to the Feds’ involvement in the case. Her place was being watched by the cops and Jake Allston, the crime boss who’d originally bribed Senator Mason with the portrait, and who wanted to keep it out of the hands of the police so it wouldn’t become crucial evidence in a trial against him.

      Riley raised his head and sighed wearily. “Rose doesn’t know this guy?”

      “Nope. They’ve never met. But her reputation must have preceded her. The guy was