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Welcome to Hush
Check out the couple in room 1508…

“Are you always this frank?”

Madison nodded. “It saves a lot of time.”

Jack’s lips curved suddenly, surprising her, and unleashing a mass of butterflies in her stomach. The smile reached his eyes and they actually seemed to change color right before her, going from cool green to warm amber. “Okay, Hush it is.”

“Yeah?” She smiled back, words deserting her. Unusual for her. But there was something about this man…

“But…” He held up his finger as if admonishing a naughty child. Even his hands were noteworthy. Tanned, with lean fingers and evenly clipped nails. No prissy manicure.

“I’m listening.” Barely. Her stomach was just beginning to calm down.

“I still have veto power.”

“Of course.” Her gaze went again to his hands, to that perfect golden color, so perfect it had to be artificial.

He squinted with suspicion. “What?”

“Are you tanned all over?”

Dear Reader,

By now you are probably as familiar with Hush as I am. After all, you’ve been treated to five wonderful stories of the DO NOT DISTURB series, created by a team of talented authors, beginning with Jo Leigh’s Hush and ending with Jill Shalvis’s Room Service. You’ve met the trendy staff, visited the phenomenal suites and drooled over the delectable offerings of Amuse Bouche.

Now it’s my turn to introduce you to Madison Tate and Jack Logan. Neither of whom believes in psychics. Boy, are they in for a surprise.

Come on. Visit us at Hushhotel.com and join the party. If you aren’t too pooped after that, check out my online bonus read.

Love,

Debbi Rawlins

Hot Spot
Debbi Rawlins

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Mom and Dad, I love and miss you.

Aloha until we meet again.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Epilogue

Prologue

MADISON TATE LEANED a hip against the wall and peered into the crowded living room of the chic SoHo brownstone, mentally berating herself for getting talked into another party full of meaningless chitchat and men who were prettier than she was.

Of course, it was Friday night and what else would she and Karrie be doing? Except for stuffing their faces with popcorn at one of the cheap theaters or trying to get two-fer tickets for something Off Broadway. And then only if Madison had had a photo gig so she could afford a night out. At least the party circuit was free with plenty of food and enough variety of flavored martinis to give her a headache for a week.

Actually, she should be grateful that the invites kept coming. Neither she nor Karrie were the Dolce & Gabbana type, and they sure as heck didn’t make the kind of bucks that most of the other guests did, but about two years ago, they’d met Nancy Kragen, a high-powered book editor, and they’d been on the B+ list ever since.

Madison didn’t know what it was about tonight that made her edgy. Probably the news she’d gotten earlier, but no, that didn’t make sense. For heaven’s sake, the hors d’oeuvres were exceptionally good, the high-end stuff mixed with retro junk food like pigs-in-a-blanket, which were to die for. And Karrie had kept her laughing with tales of petty office bureaucracy and juicy gossip for the past half hour, which as a freelance photographer Madison missed out on, but the restless feeling wouldn’t quit.

She looked over at Karrie, thoughtfully sipping a martini, her gaze riveted to the door to Sonya’s bedroom, and said, “You don’t believe in that nonsense, do you?”

“Of course not.”

The door opened and Karrie ducked to get a look at the infamous Madam Zora. Last month it had been a candle party, the month before that, a roll-your-own-sushi night. Tonight Sonya had hired a psychic, of all things. A psychic with no imagination. Madam Zora. Please.

Karrie got that mischievous look in her eyes that meant trouble. “Are you going to sign up for a reading?”

Madison made a face. “I’m not wasting my time.”

“As if you have anything better to do.” Karrie glanced around the room, her expression dismal. What few men there were had already paired up with women wearing skirts with hemlines up to Canada. “Come on. We’re here. I can’t bear to go home yet. You know what night this is, right?”

“Ah, yes. The ever-popular Mr. Warzowski’s night for screaming at his wife as he goes through two cases of Rolling Rock beer.”

“You’ve gotta love three-floor walkups with paper-thin walls.”

“That are more expensive than most five-bedroom houses in any other state.”

“But at least the heat doesn’t work in the winter and there’s none of that noisy air-conditioning in the summer.”

Madison nodded and had another big sip of martini. “Well, doll, it’s tough for us young, gorgeous career gals.”

Karrie’s brows rose. “Gorgeous?”

“Hey,” Madison said, “if we can’t play pretend, I really am leaving.” Karrie was gorgeous, even though she’d deny it. All that fabulous auburn hair with natural golden highlights, while Madison’s dirty-blond hair was so nondescript it was pathetic.

“Which is exactly why we’re going to see Madam Zora.”

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. You and I. Together.”

Madison shook her head. “I don’t know what Sonya was thinking.”

“Probably trying to take our minds off the fact that we have a better chance of winning the lottery than we do of getting lucky tonight.” Karrie sipped her peach martini, her gaze drawn to a tall woman with dark waist-length hair and red lipstick who’d emerged from the room.

Madison watched, too, as the woman’s dramatically made-up eyes widened when Nancy asked her what happened with the psychic.

“She’s amazing. Totally awesome.” The woman, whom Madison didn’t recognize as a regular, shook her head, her expression a haze of disbelief. “She knew everything about me. Even that I’m engaged.”

Madison poked Karrie in the ribs, then nodded at the rock on the woman’s finger. “Amazing.”

Karrie pressed her lips together but couldn’t quite hide her smile. “Come on, you chicken. What can it hurt?”

“Don’t make me do this. I hate this kind of stuff. You know I break out in hives when I’m exposed to too much schlock in one evening.”

Karrie laughed. “Madison, don’t be such a wet blanket. Who knows, maybe she’s going to see a tall, handsome stranger in your future.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Okay, so she won’t. But do it, anyway. Please?”

“Fine.”

“Okay, then.”

Madison caught a passing waiter and exchanged her empty glass for another martini.

“You’re really not nervous about this?”

“Of course not. It’s all nonsense.”

Karrie grinned. “Good. Because I put our names down an hour ago. We’re next.”

Madison glared at her, but quickly switched her attention to the opening door and Camilla, who’d hosted the candle party last month, her face flushed, the sparkle in her eyes an odd mixture of fear and excitement. Scary. The woman was pretty savvy and not the type to fall for this twaddle.

Karrie made an odd, throaty noise and Madison glanced over at her. She looked as if she might be having second thoughts. Good. Madison didn’t want to be a wienie about this, but she didn’t want to hear some horrible prediction that her life was about to take a dive or, worse, her career.

Even if it was all nonsense.

“Hey, Madison, Karrie.” Sonya waved them toward her bedroom. “Madam Zora is waiting for you.”

HER FRIEND LED THE WAY into the dimly lit room, and Madison followed, her pulse accelerating. Silly, since she didn’t believe in this stuff. Not even a smidgen. But she had to admit, Sonya had done a good job of setting the mood. She’d put up curtains to hide her bed, and made the area for the reading intimate and exotic, the only light coming from the soft glow of a pair of candles.

“Do not be nervous, now. Come sit.” Madam Zora motioned them to the two chairs opposite her, her smile displaying the flash of a gold tooth. She had to be in her forties, or maybe even fifties. Her unlined skin hid her age well, but she had old eyes.

Kind eyes that, amazingly, seemed to put them both at ease.

They were dark, her hair short and as black as the caftan she wore over her large, languid form as she lounged on a burgundy velvet love seat. If not for the giant gold hoops gleaming from her ears, she nearly blended into the black-draped walls.

Karrie sat first, and then gave Madison the eye as if she thought Madison might bolt. Which wasn’t a bad idea. Instead she didn’t even try to hide her reluctance as she sank into the other chair.

Madam Zora laughed softly. “Tell me why you’ve come to see Madam Zora,” the woman said, looking directly at Karrie.

She shrugged and said bluntly, “This isn’t something I’d normally do. I don’t really believe in this stuff, but I figured that since you’re here and I’m not paying for it…”

Madam Zora laughed again. “You needn’t fear me. You have a very bright future….”

Karrie leaned forward with interest.

Madison sighed to herself and listened with half an ear while Karrie continued to get her reading. Mostly general stuff that could apply to anyone. Except halfway through, Madam Z. said some things that caught Madison’s full attention. Things the hokey psychic shouldn’t have known about Karrie or her brother.

Madison’s gaze went to Karrie, and suddenly it wasn’t so amusing. She could see from her friend’s expression that she was buying every prognostication as gospel. Which wasn’t like Karrie at all. This had to be a trick, that’s all. Or someone had tipped Madam Zora off about Karrie’s brother. It was stupid to even consider…

The second they were finished, Madison stood. Karrie didn’t budge, and Madison touched her shoulder. “Come on, kiddo.”

Karrie hesitated, but then finally stood, and gave Madam Z. the perfunctory thanks. Madison headed straight for the door.

“You needn’t be afraid.”

The psychic’s voice stopped her in her tracks. She turned back to face the woman, who, come on, could have come up with something more original than the damn gypsy garb. “I’m not. I realize this is only entertainment.” At least she didn’t call it schlock but she almost reconsidered at the hint of condescension in the older woman’s smile. “You have a waiting list. I’ll give someone else a turn.”

“Ah, but don’t you want to hear about the career opportunity on your horizon?”

That got Madison’s attention.

“Let’s hear her out.” Karrie started to go back to her seat.

Madison tugged on her sleeve. “Nah, go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.”

Karrie gave her a funny look and left. Madison hesitated. Career opportunity was a broad statement. Still, she’d gotten some startling news today…

Ah, hell.

Even as she headed back to take the hot seat, she knew she was being an idiot. “Go on.”

Madam Zora nodded. “You have a bright future. Your work will soon become well-known.”

Damn it, but Madison suddenly wanted to believe. “Do you know what kind of work I do?”

The woman briefly closed her eyes. “You tell stories,” she said, and Madison smirked. So much for that. “With pictures,” Madam Zora added.

Madison gaped. How in the hell…Sonya could have told her. Probably gave Zora a heads-up on all the guests. Made for better entertainment.

The psychic smiled, almost as if she knew what Madison was thinking. Ridiculous.

“There is adventure awaiting you. Places and things you have never seen, experiences far out of your imagination.”

“I see.”

“You will share this with a man.”

“Ah.”

The psychic briefly closed her eyes. The effect was lost on Madison. “He is someone who works with you.”

Madison sighed. She freelanced, for heaven’s sake. Why had she bothered wasting her time? Even if she didn’t have anything better to do.

“But you don’t know him.” Madam Z. frowned. “Yet.”

“Right.”

One of the woman’s brows went up. “It’s up to you whether you believe or not.”

“That’s right.”

“So choose to believe this.” Madam Zora leaned slightly forward. “There are things you hold dear that you must let go. Nothing will bring you the satisfaction you seek until you open your mind. A broken heart need not be.”

Madison sighed. “Thank you,” she said, rising from her seat, ready to get back to her martini. She knew now that the so-called psychic was just blowing smoke. She’d known about Madison’s profession because she’d done her homework, not because she had supernatural gifts. “You’re good,” she said, meaning it. It must have taken her quite some time to research all the guests.

Madam Zora laughed. “Yes, and so are you,” she said. “But that skill won’t be enough to get you what you want.” She paused until Madison got to the door. “There’s more.”

Madison smiled, then got the hell out of the room.

Karrie waited impatiently outside. “Hey, hey. What was that about ‘I’ll be right behind you’?”

“Okay, I was an idiot. I stayed an extra minute. It was garbage, Karrie.”

“Garbage? Did you hear what she said about my brother?”

“She did her homework, I’ll give you that, but as for the rest? She got one thing right about me. That’s it.”

“That you’re a photographer?”

Madison shook her head. “Nope. That I got a new job.”

“A job? Like going in from nine-to-five?”

She shook her head. “Okay, it’s an assignment, so she didn’t get that right, either.”

Karrie squinted. “Not for—”

Madison nodded. “For Today’s Man.”

“No way. Which issue?”

She grinned at her best bud.

Karrie stepped back. “The sexiest-man layout?”

“Yep.”

“Oh, my God. That’s terrific! When were you going to tell me?”

“I got the call this afternoon. I still can’t believe it myself.”

Karrie raised her glass. “Congratulations. Damn.”

“Save the kudos until I get the man-of-the-year cover.”

Karrie sighed. “Would you chill out long enough to enjoy the moment? This is major. World class. How many photographers vie for that shoot each month? And you got it.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Nope.” She held up a hand. “I’m not listening to any ‘yeah buts.’ You’re too hard on yourself. You’re a damn good photographer, and you deserve the assignment. Period. Which state are you covering?”

“New York. I’m shooting right here in Manhattan.”

“Cool. Who’s the guy?”

“That’s up to me.”

“I know you have someone in mind.”

“A couple of guys, actually, but I have over a month before I have to submit a name.”

“Are you going to give me a hint?” Karrie waited during the span of a leisurely sip. “I’ll give you one. The question was rhetorical.”

Madison laughed. Yeah, she had one guy in particular in mind. But he wasn’t going to be easy. Others had tried to snag him to no avail. “I’m superstitious. I don’t want to jinx it.”

“Oh, brother.” Karrie sighed. “Okay, I’m sure you’ll find someone positively delicious.”

“Delicious?” Madison sipped her drink again, wishing it was later so they could head home. “I just pray that he’s photogenic, and not an insufferable prick.”

“Who knows,” Kerrie said, her brows arching. “Maybe you won’t find his prick insufferable at all.”

1

Three Months Later…

“EXCUSE ME, JACK, but there’s a Madison Tate on line two for you.” Lana stood expectantly at his office door, pushing the mass of shiny black hair away from her face. “She says you’re expecting her call.”

Jack Logan hesitated. He should talk to her and get it over with. The sooner he got the eager Ms. Tate off his back the better. “Take a message, will you, Lana?”

“Sure.” She smiled, first at him and then at Larry before turning to leave, her short skirt showing off a pair of dynamite legs.

Shaking his graying head, Larry exhaled sharply as he tapped the edge of Jack’s desk. “I don’t think my heart could take having a secretary who looked like that.”

Jack smiled at his longtime agent. “She has a husband and twin toddlers she adores.”

“With those eyes and that smile she should be working in front of the camera. Maybe I ought to try and sign her up—”

“She’s not interested. She’s just a nice kid from Nebraska who can’t wait to get home to her kids every day.” Jack loosened his tie and motioned with his chin to the briefcase on Larry’s lap. “You have papers for me to review?”

Larry stared back, his weathered face creasing into a frown. Years of golf without sun protection had added ten years to him. He suddenly looked grim. “You’re not going to like the new contract.”

“That’s a given. Let me see it.”

“Not to say it’s not a good deal. It’s entirely favorable to you. Any other morning-show host would give his right arm for the concessions they’re willing to make. I heard that Matt Lauer couldn’t even—”

“Larry, just give me the contract.”

The older man sighed and took the leather folder out of his briefcase. “Don’t be rash. Think about how much you have to lose.”

“Jack?”

They both looked toward Lana standing in the doorway. She made an apologetic face.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you again,” she said with a helpless wave of her hand, “but this Madison Tate says she’s already left two messages and that it’s important.”

Jack sighed. Right. An important beefcake magazine spread. Talk about an oxymoron. Pictures of insurgents’ victims in the Middle East, earthquake victims in India—now, that defined the word important.

“You haven’t returned her calls?” Larry gave him a stern look. “If you want to leave room for negotiation, don’t piss off the network.”

Jack’s jaw clenched. Of course he knew Larry was right. Didn’t mean he had to like the idea. “I’ll take it, Lana. Thanks.”

She glanced at Larry, nodded and then left.

“Consider this a trade-off,” Larry said, as Jack reached for the phone. “The network wants this exposure.”

“I don’t need the sales pitch. I already agreed.” Jack started to use his speakerphone and quickly changed his mind. He wanted some illusion of control over this ridiculous publicity stunt his producer and Larry had arranged. He brought the receiver to his ear and depressed the blinking red button. “Jack Logan.”

At his brusque tone, Larry shook his head in disgust.

“Madison Tate here,” the woman responded equally businesslike. “We haven’t talked before, Mr. Logan, so I’ll take this opportunity to thank you for agreeing to this photo shoot. Now, let’s talk about a time and place.”

Jack half smiled. She knew how to get to the point. “I assume you already have a place in mind.”

“At Hush. It’s that hot new boutique hotel located in midtown owned by Piper Devon. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”

His smile faded. “Yes, I have.”

“You sound annoyed.”

“Why there?”

“It’s not only the hippest place in Manhattan right now, but the decor is gorgeous.”

He briefly closed his eyes. Yeah, he knew the place. He knew Piper, too. Nice lady. But from the day it opened, the hotel had attracted its share of scandal, a field day for the press, who’d labeled it the sex hotel.

“Mr. Logan?”

“Yeah, I’m here.” He glanced at Larry, who listened with far too much interest. “Let’s talk about that further. Maybe we could meet for a drink.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, “but we’ll have to start shooting soon. I’m sure you can appreciate that I have a deadline.”

“Of course.” He opened the jar of jellybeans he kept on his desk. “I’ll check my schedule and—”

“How about this evening?”

He paused, his hand halfway into the jar. For a moment he thought about blowing her off. Telling her he’d call back tomorrow, but his grudging appreciation of her no-nonsense approach stopped him. “What time?”

“Your call.”

“Six.”

“Perfect.”

“Where?”

“Hush. At the bar. I look forward to it, Mr. Logan.” She hung up before he could say a word.

He shook his head as he replaced the phone.

“What?” Larry leaned forward, his brows drawn together. Made Jack wonder if the man was born with a frown. Even when the guy smiled he still looked as if he were troubled about something.

He was a good agent, though, and always frank. Didn’t mouth what Jack wanted to hear. Just told it like it was. No behind-the-back deals. No back stabbing. He’d been with Jack from the beginning and was loyal to a fault.

Many of Jack’s peers had advised him to change agents. Claimed Larry was a dinosaur. Even a couple of Jack’s producers thought he should have a new hip young agent. But he had little use for the brash, flashy upstarts who thought schmoozing was more important than good reporting. Besides, loyalty went both ways.

“You’ve met her, right? After you and Ernie were approached by Today’s Man?”

“Madison Tate’s not with Today’s Man. She’s a freelancer. And yeah, I met her.”

“A freelancer? You’ve got to be kidding.” He stared at Larry, wanting to seriously strangle the guy. The major magazine had astronomical circulation numbers that couldn’t be ignored. He could see why the network had twisted his arm to do the layout, but…“You sold me out to a damn freelancer?”

“Number one, I did not sell you out. This is a good career move. Number two, the agreement is for Today’s Man’s sexiest man article only.” Larry shrugged. “Besides, hard to say no to a woman like that.”

Jack leaned back, testing the limit of his leather chair, and scrubbed at his jaw. Sighing, he came back to face Larry, shaking his head. “I never thought I’d see the day a pretty face could influence your business decisions.”

Larry scoffed. “You never will. This Tate is all right in the looks department, tall, thin, short dirty-blond hair, nothing special, but she’s got grit, one of those real go-getters, doesn’t understand the word no. But she doesn’t cross the line, either. Reminds me of you when you were younger.”

When he was younger…Jack stiffened. Larry had struck a raw nerve. Nothing to do with age. Jack was only thirty-six. But his recent complacency was starting to bother him. He’d let celebrity and money take center stage. He’d been ambitious once, single-mindedly chasing after the story of the century. Nothing could have stopped him in those days. Not even a multimillion-dollar contract.

“So where does she want the shoot to take place?” Larry got to his feet and predictably pinched the crease down the front of his slacks. “She hadn’t chosen a location when Ernie and I spoke to her. We left it open but that you’d have final say.”

“Hush.”

Larry’s eyes gleamed. “Brilliant choice. See? The woman’s got savvy.”

“Yeah, just what my image needs.” Bad enough he was considered the pretty boy of the network, of the morning infotainment show no less, a bona fide heartthrob according to the media. He hated it.

With a hint of a smile on his face, Larry laid the leather folders on Jack’s desk. “Talk to her and let me know what happens.”

“I can tell you right now what’ll happen.”

Larry sighed. “Read the contract later. You don’t need to meet Tate with an attitude.”

Jack watched the older man leave. He walked with a slight stoop Jack hadn’t noticed before. The guy had never mentioned his age but he had to be in his mid-sixties, and he still worked just as hard as he had when he took Jack on as a client fourteen years ago. He clearly loved his job and gave it a hundred and fifty percent.

Jack’s gaze went to the leather folder. Would he be able to say the same in thirty years?

AS SOON AS MADISON HUNG UP the phone, she let out a yowl. She stomped her feet a few times, going in a circle, doing the happy dance and then sank into the swivel chair she’d nearly sent flying across the small office.

Nearby, Talia looked up from the article she’d been editing and peered over her thick, black-rimmed glasses. “You arranged a meet,” she said in her usual monotone voice. “Just a guess.”

Out of breath, Madison nodded. Talia was good people, in spite of her odd sense of humor and even odder taste in clothes, and she did let Madison use her office sometimes, but, man, Madison wished Karrie were here.

Madison missed her like crazy on a normal basis but at a time like this it was really hard to have her best friend living all the way across the country. Not that she wasn’t happy that Karrie had found Rob, but jeez…It had been months since Karrie had moved west to be with her guy.

She glanced at her watch. Two-fifteen, which made it eleven-fifteen Las Vegas time. She wouldn’t call yet. She’d wait until after she met with him. The Jack Logan. She still couldn’t quite wrap her brain around the magnitude of snaring someone like the heart-stopping Logan.

Talia snorted. “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

“What?”

“You acting like a star-struck teenager.”

Madison laughed. “He’s only the sexiest man in the western hemisphere.”

Talia shook her head. “I still don’t believe it.”

“The only thing Jack Logan means to me is the cover of your magazine.” Madison locked her hands behind her head, leaned back and stretched her legs out. Wait until the other photographers found out whom she’d snagged. They’d drool like babies. Cry their eyes out. Or want to scratch hers out. An ugly thought struck her, and she looked at Talia. “Heard anything about who the other men are?”

“Nope. Nothing. Oh, wait, I did hear that Sheila Higgins might have Brad Pitt on the hook.”

Madison shot upright. “No way.”

Talia just shrugged.

“Big deal. He’s been on so many covers. Old news. I’m not worried.”

Talia smiled. “Yeah, I can tell by the way you nearly hit the ceiling. Relax, kid. I was kidding. I haven’t heard a word.”

“Go ahead, make fun.” Madison stood and tucked the loosened white T-shirt into her jeans. “Some day you’ll say ‘I knew her when.’”

Talia put down her pencil and cocked her head to the side. “Say you get the cover. Then what?”

Madison stared in disbelief. “No more begging for assignments, or sitting at the bottom of slush piles. I get to write my own ticket. I mean, getting to shoot the cover is a pretty damn big deal.”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely a major career coup.” Talia’s dark eyes bore into hers. “My question is, what does writing your own ticket mean?”

Madison looked blankly at her and then shrugged. “More freedom.”

“To do what?”

“Pay my bills, for one.” Madison snorted. “Get to choose my own assignments. Why?”

“No reason.” Talia gave her a small mysterious smile, her dark red lips barely curving.

“You know something I don’t?”

Talia just shook her head. “Just curious.”

Madison grabbed her navy blue blazer off the back of the chair, a sudden unease quelling her excitement. “I don’t want to take celebrity photos for the rest of my life.”

“You’re very talented, Madison, you certainly don’t have to.” Talia paused, and then added, “If that’s not what you want.”

“For now it works for me. It’s something I know I can do well.” She shrugged into her blazer. “Maybe later I’ll branch out. After I put a few bucks away. Just not yet.”

“No need to get defensive.”

“I’m not.” Madison knew that was a lie. Even her posture had turned defensive. Silly, really. No reason for it. Everything she said was true. She was happy. This was the break she’d been waiting for. “Well, I’d better go get ready. We’re meeting in two hours.”

“Hmm. You have time for a color and blow dry.” Talia frowned at Madison’s short, uneven nails. “No, get a manicure instead.”

“You’re hysterical.” She picked up her portfolio that contained a recent head shot of Logan and a brief bio she’d found on the Internet.

She figured she ought to know a little something about him other than he had a face and body that gave even her elderly grandmother heart palpitations.

“You coming by tomorrow?” Talia took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes.

“Probably, but it kind of depends on tonight.”

Talia grinned. “I’m jealous.”

Yeah, right. As if. Madison sighed. “You’re hopeless.”

“You know what would be a real kick?”

“Do I want to hear this?”

“Remember that psychic you went to?”

“Don’t even go there.” Madison headed for the door. “Anyway, I didn’t go to see her. She was at a party. It was stupid.”

“I’m just saying…” Talia’s eyes widened. “Hey, didn’t your friend Karrie’s prediction come true?”

Madison’s hand froze on the doorknob. She’d been so wrapped up in getting this assignment she’d forgotten. Not that Karrie’s or her prediction meant anything. Coincidence of course.

Even so…

Jack Logan? No way.

JACK ARRIVED AT EROTIQUE ten minutes early, but she was already there. He knew it was Madison Tate sitting at a small table near the black circular bar. Not just because she was the only woman sitting alone. The voice on the phone matched this woman perfectly. The way she was dressed, the way she sat with her back straight and her head held high. No-nonsense.

While the other women in the bar were decked out in the latest fall offerings from Prada or Bebe, she dressed simply in jeans and a white T-shirt, generic, not designer. Her dark-blond hair wasn’t particularly stylish, either. Kind of short and unruly, and before he crossed the room, her long slender fingers pushed the stubborn locks away from her face twice.

The moment she saw him she stood and smiled. A nice friendly smile. Not the kind he usually got from women.

“You’re early,” she said and offered her hand.

He accepted the firm handshake. “You’re earlier.”

“Bad habit of mine.” She reclaimed her seat, and he took off his overcoat and sat across from her, laying the expensive coat across his lap.