as Nina tried to compose another ad, she couldnât keep her mind on the task at hand. Her thoughts kept wandering back to the man in the coffee-stained shirt, to the firm set of his mouth when he smiled, to the strong grasp of his fingers on her elbow, to the tremor that raced through her arm and made her head swim the moment heâd touched her.
Sheâd never believed in instant attraction, but that was only because sheâd never experienced it before. Now that she had, Nina wanted to experience it again. Sheâd just have to find a way to make it happen.
âWHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?â
Cameron Ryder stood on the sidewalk outside the coffee shop. He glanced down at his ruined shirt and tie and shrugged. âA little accident with a cup of coffeeâ¦and some crazy woman.â
He looked back over his shoulder. A beautiful, bewitching, crazy woman, he added silently. Now that heâd put a little distance between them, he wasnât quite sure what to think of her. She hadnât really been a woman at all, at least not the kind of sophisticated and overtly sexy woman he usually socialized with. She was sweet and slightly goofy, more a girl than woman. Sheâd been dressed a little oddly, in a hairy chartreuse sweater and a short little skirt that showed off shapely legs.
His mind conjured an image of her, her startling blue eyes and her golden blond hair twisted into a knot with spikes sticking out all over the place. He frownedâand chartreuse legs. In truth, sheâd looked like one of those bohemian girls who spent her days and nights in Soho coffee bars and art galleries, smoking cigarettes and quoting Sartre.
Still, he couldnât deny the current of attraction that had raced through his body the instant their eyes met, the warmth that seeped through his bloodstream when he touched her, the flood of amusement that made him smile when she so earnestly wiped off the front of his trousers.
Unlike most of the women heâd known, this woman lacked the hard, cynical edge that came from living in Manhattan. Her eyes were wide and clear blue, almost innocent. And she had a fresh, unpretentious look about her, unmarred by overdone cosmetics. With any other woman, he might have suspected she dumped the coffee on purpose. But the look of sheer surprise and mortification on her pretty face was enough to tell him differently. Cam laughed softly and shook his head. Good grief, heâd barely been able to get out a word or two, looking into those eyes.
What was this instant fascination he had with a complete stranger? Maybe heâd been working too hard lately. He hadnât had much time for a social life and any woman would appear attractive to a man who hadnât bothered with dating in the past few months. He fought the urge to walk back inside for just one more look, but then Jeff cleared his throat and pointed to his watch.
âWeâve got a half hour before we meet with Charlotte Danforth,â he said. âThereâs probably time to run back to your apartment and change.â
Ever the organized businessman, Jeff Myers was chief operating officer of Cameronâs company, NightRyder. Jeff had been a fellow college student when, ten years ago, Cam had created the Internet site for Gen X entertainment and night life. Heâd been there when the company moved from dorm room to apartment to office complex across the river in Jersey. And heâd been there at their stock offering, when the IPO turned Jeffâs thirty-percent interest into millions of dollars in just a few hours.
âI donât need to change,â Cam said. Though he might be able to make the trip uptown and back to his Riverside Drive apartment, he had no intention of doing so. âIâm not going to the meeting. Youâre my partner and you have my complete trust and authority. I want you to present the offer.â
Cam had been working toward this acquisition for as long as he could remember and now that it was time to make his move, he preferred to stand back and watch. Five years ago, Attitudes was barely a blip on the media radar. No one expected it to succeed, especially with socialite-party-girl Charlotte Danforth at the helm. But her rich daddy was willing to pay a price to get his little girl into the work world and out of his hair. Charles Danforth, one of New Yorkâs wealthiest men, was the magazineâs only investor. Even the headquarters of Attitudes was housed in a Danforth building, probably rent-free.
âI donât know why you want the magazine,â Jeff Myers murmured. âWith all the money the old man has pumped into it, we have no idea what itâs really worth. Sheâs probably never had to prepare a financial statement, so weâre buying blind. Why not buy something else?â
Cameron shrugged. âWell, Rolling Stone would be too expensive. So would Premiere and Entertainment. Attitudes is a weekly, itâs a trend-setter, and their subscription list fits our demographic. Itâs a good match for us,â he said. âAnd I donât care what it costs. I want the magazine and I want you to do everything necessary to get it.â
He smiled to himself. It felt good to say that, to know that when it came to a business acquisition, money was no longer an object. There was a time not so long ago that heâd struggled to make ends meet. Heâd just founded NightRyder, and though hip and trendy New Yorkers visited the site to learn all the latest on movies, music, and entertainment, the Internet was still young. Every penny heâd saved, most of it earmarked for his last year at NYU, had gone into the design. Four years later, when NightRyder had become the most popular Internet site nationwide in the 20- to 30-year-old demographic, the advertisers started coming and Camâs life as an Internet entrepreneur began.
âDonât you think youâre carrying this mystery man thing a little too far?â Jeff asked. âYouâre making too much money to keep your face out of the public eye forever. And youâre the Ryder in NightRyder, Cam. You should be there when we make our offer and Charlotte Danforth accepts.â
Cam chuckled. âSheâs not going to accept.â
âWhat? But she has to. Weâve done our research. Daddy Danforth is just about ready to cut her off, if he hasnât already. Her creditors are hounding her. And sheâs spending more and more time partying with her high society friends than running her magazine. The time is right.â
âSheâs not going to accept,â Cam insisted. âAttitudes is her baby. Besides, weâre only going to offer her half what we think the magazine is worth.â
âBut I thought we decidedââ
âI know what we decided. But I changed my mind. I need some more information before we make a solid offer.â
âCam, itâs a privately held publication. I donât think sheâs going to open up the books and let us browse before we talk money.â
âI know. But we can afford to wait her out, until sheâs a little more desperate. And while we do that, maybe we can get some inside information.â
Jeff nodded. âI suppose that wouldnât be a bad idea. Charlotte Danforth has hired and fired enough people. We could always find a disgruntled employee who might want to talk.â
âThen do it,â he said. âAnd call me after your meeting with Danforth. I want a full report.â
Jeff nodded, then started across the street. Cameron watched as he walked in the front entrance of the ornate cast-iron building, one of the many that lined the streets in this section of Soho. Then he turned and shoved his hands in his pockets, warming them in the chilly evening air.
His fingers toyed with a wad of paper in his pocket and he pulled it out, only to find the crumpled sheet the beautiful girl had used on his shirt, the scribblings on it now blurred by the coffee. Part of the paper was still completely legibleâthe Attitudes logo across the bottom and the name on the top.
âFrom the desk of Nina Forrester,â he murmured. âNina.â The name seemed to suit her, light, airy, a name that sounded like a peal