A beat of silence passed between them.
“And what about you? When did you become the type to wear a suit and tie every day?”
Hudson reached for the nearly empty bottle of merlot and split the remainder between their two glasses. “I’m still not, but Wall Street continues to equate success with the ability to strangle oneself with a five-hundred-dollar tie.” He leaned against the back of the barstool and took a sip of his wine. “All part of a strategic and well-crafted game.”
“One you obviously play quite well. This place is amazing. I can’t believe you have a movie theater upstairs.” She narrowed her eyes at him as she reached for her glass. “What else do you have hidden behind closed doors?”
Hudson leaned closer, a wicked gleam in his eyes, and dropped a kiss to her lips. “Eat up and I’ll show you.”
When they finished eating, Allie followed him to the foyer. “The study you’ve already seen, as with my bedroom.” He smirked at her before gesturing to a split staircase. “Downstairs are guest rooms, a gym, and staff quarters. But the rooms upstairs are my favorite.”
She took his offered hand as he led her up the same staircase they’d taken on their way to the theater. Only this time they continued farther down the wide hallway, affording her a full view of the artwork she’d been so curious to see. The paintings she passed were bold, brightly colored abstracts with heavy textured strokes, a few of which she was sure she’d seen hanging in the Art Institute at one time.
Halfway down the hall Hudson paused in front of a set of carved wood doors standing at least ten feet tall. “This,” he said, pushing them open, “was Hefner’s office.”
The room took Allie’s breath away. A ceiling that soared upwards of fifteen feet with elaborate plaster designs; walls that were covered in recessed mahogany panels; a herringbone wood floor polished to a glossy shine; a limestone fireplace flanked by leather wingback chairs; and velvet drapes framing French doors that led to a stone terrace with potted palms. The entire room looked to be in its original 1920s condition. It was as if she’d stepped out of the Palmolive building and straight into the pages of The Great Gatsby. She was so enthralled by her surroundings that it took a few moments for Hudson’s words to register.
“Wait, did you say Hefner’s office?”
He nodded. “Fully restored.”
“What . . . how?”
“This was his office when he launched his magazine in the fifties. A few years later he opened his first club here as well.”
Allie gaped at him. “You live in the Playboy Club?”
“Yes. Interested in wearing a bunny outfit, Miss Sinclair?”
She smiled coyly. “Particular fantasy of yours, Mr. Chase?”
“Second only to Princess Leia’s gold bikini.” He flashed her a heart-stopping, panty-dropping grin, and in that moment she was quite sure he could talk her into wearing either if it meant his hands and mouth touching her. “Come,” he said as if reading her mind. “There’s more.”
He led her to the very end of the hallway and yet another set of double doors. “This is my favorite room of all.” Allie didn’t think anything could top the room she’d just seen. But then Hudson swung the door open and she realized she’d been wrong. “The game room,” he said.
Allie whistled through her teeth. “Quite the man cave you have here.”
Like the previous room, this one was decorated in warm, rich colors. Dark hammer beams spanned the vaulted ceiling, spaced every six feet or so with trusses that came down to meet the walls where they divided the arched, floor-to-ceiling windows. Travertine tiles were covered with thick oriental rugs, and a large pool table sat front and center. Allie’s hand trailed along the table’s red baize as she admired the intricate bevels on the amber light fixture hanging above it.
“The room doesn’t get much use unless Nick’s here.”
She looked up at him, surprised.
“If I’m home, I’m working.” His mouth curved into a knowing smile. “With the exception of this weekend.”
Hudson leaned his hip against the side of the pool table, casually crossing his arms as he watched her move farther into the room. She smiled back at him before turning her attention to the mahogany bar. A flat screen television was mounted to a stone-covered wall behind the bar, flanked on either side by glass shelving with enough high-end liquor to stock Tavern for the weekend. In front of the bar two leather chesterfield sofas sat facing each other, and on the wall across from them hung a dartboard worthy of any Irish pub. A giggle escaped her lips as she pictured the boy who’d tried to impress her by besting a game of carnival darts on his brother’s behalf.
“Something funny, Alessandra?”
“I was just remembering that carnival dart game. The look on your face every time you had to hand over another dollar.” She giggled again. He must have gone through a week’s worth of tips that night.
“You think you could have done better?” he asked, pushing away from the pool table and sauntering toward her.
She shot him a teasing grin. “Well, I think I could have popped three green balloons in less than an hour, that’s for sure.”
Hudson cocked his head to one side. “Less than an hour, eh?” It was a rhetorical question, one he considered for a moment before strolling over to the board and lifting the six darts from their holes. “A game of Five-O-One?” He smirked as he approached, offering her three of the darts, feather tip forward. “You don’t even have to beat me in less than an hour.”
She tilted her chin up, holding his stare as she took the darts from his hand. “Challenge accepted.”
He smiled down at her, his eyes shining with amusement, before tucking his darts into the back pocket of his jeans and heading for the bar. “Would you like another glass of wine? I can open a bottle.”
“Trying to get me drunk? Compromise my abilities, perhaps?”
“Simply being a good host.” He feigned politeness, but she knew it was an act. If there was one thing she’d learned about the modern-day version of Hudson Chase it was that he would go to any lengths to get what he wanted. But he was about to find out that he wasn’t the only one who played to win.
“I’ll take a bottle of whatever you’re having.”
Hudson’s brow shot up. “Well, you’re full of surprises today, aren’t you?” He yanked open the glass door of a fridge displaying rows of every beer imaginable and grabbed two Heinekens. “Would you like a glass?” he asked, popping the tops off the green bottles.
“Nope, bottle’s fine. Maybe some music?”
“Won’t break your concentration, will it?”
She could see he was fighting a smile. We’ll just see who’s laughing when this is over. “Appreciate the concern, but I think I can manage.”
“U2 okay?”
“Perfect.”
He reached for a remote control and a moment later “Mysterious Ways” filled the room. She watched him move toward her, Allie’s senses bombarded by the seductive beat of the music and the mesmerizing swagger of his walk. By the time he was standing in front of her, she’d completely lost her train of thought. He offered her one of the bottles and she took a long sip.
Hudson gestured toward the dartboard. “Ladies first.”
Allie nearly choked on her drink as she recalled Harper’s oh-so-tactful mention of that same phrase. After wiping her mouth, she set her beer on the bar and took her place in front of the board. She planted her feet solidly on the floor and raised her elbow to take aim, only to have Hudson walk up behind her and snake his arm around her waist.
“Oh no, baby, from back here,” he said, tugging her farther.
She couldn’t say for sure, but she suspected he’d pulled her far beyond the regulated distance. A devious smile formed on her lips. Perhaps she’d give him something to think about during his first toss, even the playing field a bit. Her hips swayed in his grasp as she shimmied against him to the beat of the music.