The Last Man on Earth Read online

  As she sipped champagne, she watched her brother and sister-in-law as they whirled by in the sea of dancers. Laughing, their eyes locked, they seemed aware of no one but each other, so very much in love. After almost ten years of marriage, they were as happy now as they’d been on the day they’d wed.

  Crazy in love.

  Was it so wrong of her to want that for herself? To crave more than friendship, however deep that friendship might run? Before she had time to ponder the question, a familiar figure stepped into view across the room.

  Zack Douglas.

  He had clearly just arrived, bits of melted snow glistening in his dark hair. She was used to seeing him in expensive, tailored suits at work. Tonight, though, he was wearing a black tuxedo with a satin cummerbund and a crisp bow tie.

  He looked . . . amazing. For an instant, she felt a wave of pure, unadulterated feminine lust.

  Then she came to her senses.

  What in the hell is he doing here? This wasn’t a business-related function.

  She turned quickly on her heel and headed into the crowd, hoping he wouldn’t notice she was there.

  • • •

  Zack noticed Madelyn Grayson almost immediately, a flash of gold and red drawing his eye, the fiery glint of her hair unmistakable.

  No doubt she’d arrived on the arm of her upper-crust boyfriend, a man you could tell at a glance came from privilege and wealth. Old money, they called it. Zack watched Madelyn weave her way through the thick clusters of people but saw no tall, golden-headed male waiting for her in the wings.

  His own date had received an emergency page just as the two of them had been walking out the door for the party. Rather than cancel, Sheryl had told him to go on without her. She’d join him as soon as she was free. Well before midnight, she’d promised. This was her crowd, not his, and he’d figured he’d be bored until she arrived.

  But now that he’d seen Madelyn Grayson, well, that changed everything.

  • • •

  Madelyn took refuge at the farthest corner of the room, near the canapé table. P.G. and Caroline were still dancing, so she didn’t want to return to their table and sit alone.

  Deciding to take advantage of the party fare, she picked up a plate and helped herself to a selection of succulent-looking hors d’oeuvres, the better to blend in. She’d skipped dinner, and with the hour hand at half past ten, she was more than a bit hungry. Just as she was about to sample a mushroom cap topped with crab meat, she heard a familiar voice close behind her.

  “Hello, Madelyn.”

  She set the uneaten appetizer back on her plate. So much for hiding in plain sight, she thought. Resigned, she turned to meet Zack Douglas’s shrewd gaze. “Zack. What a surprise. I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight. Somehow this doesn’t strike me as your kind of party.”

  “You’re right about that. All flash and little action. Slow, definitely slow.”

  “Not slow. Dignified. But I can understand that this might not be the sort of entertainment you prefer.”

  “And how would you know what sort of entertainment I prefer?”

  Madelyn shrugged. “One hears things.”

  How could she not? There was always some story circulating about him. Last New Year’s Eve, as one tale went, he’d attended a wild, raucous party at the home of a well-known rock star. The theme had been Old Morocco and the event had boasted, among other excesses, a mosaic-tiled fountain overflowing with champagne, exotic music, soft Persian rugs, lush pillow-strewn tents, and a bevy of half-naked dancing girls. Zack never admitted whether the rumors about him were true. He never bothered to deny any of them either.

  “Listening to gossip? Shame on you, Madelyn.” He chose a toast point, spooning a healthy serving of two-hundred-dollar-an-ounce caviar on top.

  “So what are you doing here, then?” she said. “Did one of F and S’s wealthier clients die and leave a grieving widow in desperate need of escort?”

  Zack raised an eyebrow. “Actually, my date hasn’t arrived yet.”

  “Oh, had one last set to finish at the strip club, did she?” She popped a canapé into her mouth.

  “No, she was called in to perform emergency heart-bypass surgery. She’s an attending over at Mount Sinai.”

  Madelyn choked.

  He gave her a strong pat between the shoulder blades. “You okay?”

  She nodded, tears stinging her eyes as she tried to draw a breath. She fell into a paroxysm of coughing, completely unable to speak.

  “Here, try a little champagne. Just a sip.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered, accepting the glass and taking a sip.

  “Better?”

  She nodded again.

  “You need to be careful when you eat this rich, fancy stuff. Easy for it to go down the wrong way.”

  She looked at him through her lashes and drank a little more champagne, trying to decide whether he was teasing her. Gradually, her breathing returned to normal. That’s when she became aware of his hand on her back, moving in gentle, soothing circles, his palm warm and large. She suppressed an urge to shiver with a kind of pure, almost feline pleasure. Slowly, she eased away.

  His hand dropped to his side. “Where’s the Viking tonight?”

  “Who?”

  She watched him scan the throng of partygoers.

  “I figured he’d have been over here like a shot. What with you choking and all.”

  She gave him a puzzled look.

  “Your boyfriend. The big blond who couldn’t be pried away from your side at the company picnic last summer.”

  Surprised, she realized he meant James. Just barely, she kept herself from rolling her eyes. Even people who didn’t know James asked after him. Although Zack’s interest didn’t sound terribly friendly. “He . . . uh . . . he isn’t here. Business overseas.”

  She figured her excuse wasn’t a total lie. As an international financier, James often had business overseas. He very well might be ringing in the New Year in another part of the world. She didn’t know.

  “You’re here alone, then?”

  Her back straightened. “No, I came with my brother and sister-in-law. Something wrong with that?”

  Zack set down his empty plate. “Not at all. Most women would have stayed home, or else found themselves another date. Your loyalty is commendable.”

  She considered telling him the truth, but she’d had more than enough conversation on the subject already. She was tired of cross-examinations. Besides, it really wasn’t any of his business.

  “Considering that my date hasn’t arrived yet and you don’t have one for tonight, how about a dance?” He held out his hand, palm up in invitation.

  “With you?”

  He made a show of glancing around. “I don’t see anyone else asking, do you? Come on, it’s only a dance. I don’t think one dance would compromise company rules about fraternization.”

  That would be a first, she thought, Zack Douglas concerned about policies on fraternization. “Be that as it may—”

  “Unless you’re chicken. Is that it, Red? Afraid to dance with me?”

  She gritted her teeth.

  Annoying SOB.

  “You want to dance, Douglas?” she said. “Then let’s dance.”

  She stalked ahead of him onto the dance floor.

  He followed.

  Turning, she slapped her hand into his. “And don’t call me Red. You got it?”

  He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “I got it. Red.” He winked and swept her into motion, making several extravagant turns that revved her pulse into high gear.

  The pace of the music soon slowed, the beat growing throaty, sultry, with a bluesy sort of jazz. Zack tucked her close, pressing her palm against the flat expanse of his chest. Warmed by his body heat, the expensive fabri
c of his dress shirt smelled faintly of starch and clean, healthy male. He wore no cologne. He didn’t need to. Zack Douglas unembellished was better than any fragrance could ever hope to be.

  Wait, where had that thought come from? Zack Douglas was the enemy. Her chief rival and archnemesis. Beating her out of clients and accounts. Cheating her at every turn.

  Too much champagne—that must be it. Well, she wouldn’t drink another drop, she assured herself, not a bit more tonight. And as soon as this dance was over, she’d ditch him and forget he was even in the room.

  She slipped her hand from beneath his, curling it into a fist to wedge a tiny space between them. “So . . . um . . . when is your date supposed to arrive?”

  There was an intent look in his eyes, almost smoldering.

  Green fire.

  She couldn’t remember ever seeing that particular expression on his face before.

  “She wasn’t sure,” he murmured absently. “I told her if she hadn’t made it by eleven, I’d call.”

  “It must be getting close to that now.”

  “Hmm, I suppose.”

  The music ended. The two of them moved apart, along with the other couples on the dance floor, to applaud the band, whose leader announced there would be a fifteen-minute intermission while he and his fellow musicians took a break.

  Madelyn traced a seam on her gown. “I’d better get back to my table. My brother and sister-in-law will be wondering what’s become of me.”

  He slid a hand beneath her elbow. “I’ll walk you back.”

  “That’s okay.” She moved out of his reach. “Go phone your date.”

  He hesitated, then nodded. “Thanks for the dance, Madelyn.”

  “Sure. Happy New Year.”

  “Happy New Year. See you at work on Tuesday.”

  She made her way across the ballroom and was relieved to find P.G. and Caroline there, sharing a plate heaped with an array of desserts.

  “Who was that?” Caroline asked as Madelyn took a seat. Her sister-in-law looked sweet and pretty in an aquamarine silk dress that went perfectly with her fair skin and tawny hair.

  Madelyn picked up a fork and nipped the end off a piece of chocolate cake. “Who?”

  “That man. The one you were dancing with.”

  “Oh, an acquaintance from the office. No one important.”

  • • •

  Half an hour later the band was in full swing once more, the dance floor packed with couples whirling away the final minutes of December. Madelyn watched them, wishing she hadn’t sworn off the bubbly. It wasn’t as if she were driving home. And since the dance with Zack Douglas, she hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse of the man. His date must have shown up. They were probably out there somewhere right now having a fabulous time. She sighed, wishing she were doing the same.

  She was debating whether to indulge in her own personal tour of the dessert table—something sweet to go with that glass of champagne she just might change her mind about—when her brother appeared at her elbow.

  “Madelyn, I’m sorry, but we’ve got to leave. Caroline just called home to check on Brian, and he’s sick, running a fever. It’s probably nothing serious, but we should go.”

  “Of course you need to be with Brian. You go on.”

  “We will, once we drop you off.”

  “I live in the opposite direction. Taking me home will add another hour to your trip, and it’s nearly midnight now. No—you two go back to your hotel, check out, and get on the road. I’m a big girl. I know my way around the city. I’ll take a cab. Don’t worry; I’ll be fine.”

  Uncertain, P.G. buried his hands in his pockets. “You sure? I don’t like leaving you alone.”

  “You’re not. Look around—there must be three hundred people here. Besides, you’re forgetting which one of us is the eldest. I am. So do what your big sister tells you and go.”

  He made a face. “Big sister my foot. Just because you’re ten minutes older than me doesn’t make you the boss.” It was an old argument, one they’d indulged in as twins for as long as each of them could remember. P.G. hesitated for a fraction of a second more, then gave in. “All right, but call us tomorrow. Promise?”

  She stretched up on her toes to brush a kiss over his cheek. “I promise.” She gave him a light shove toward the door. “Now, get out of here.”

  “Happy New Year, Madelyn.”

  “Happy New Year, P.G. Drive safely. There are a lot of weirdos on the road tonight.”

  He grinned. “This is New York City. There are always a lot of weirdos on the road.”

  Roughly two minutes later, dejection set in as she stood alone, feeling lost and more than a little sorry for herself. She checked the time on her wristwatch. Fifteen minutes to midnight. Stay and watch the balloons drop? Or call it an evening and look for a cab?

  She’d taken three steps toward the door when a hand lightly touched her shoulder.

  “Was that your brother and his wife I just saw leaving?”

  Madelyn turned and tipped her chin up to look at—who else?—Zack Douglas. With the mellow glow of the ballroom light playing over his swarthy skin and dark hair, he reminded her of a fallen angel.

  “What?” she murmured.

  “Your brother. Did he just leave?”

  She lowered her eyes to collect herself. “Yes. He . . . um . . . he and Caroline had a family emergency. Their son is ill.”

  He scowled. “Didn’t you arrive here with them?”

  “I did, but I told them to go on without me. I can see myself home just fine.”

  He opened his mouth as if to argue, then closed it. With a smile, he folded her hand over his elbow. “Good, then it seems I’ve got you all to myself.”

  She tried to pull her hand away, but he refused to let go.

  “Where’s your date, the doctor?” she asked.

  “Still in surgery. Another emergency came in and she was needed to assist. I spoke to her nurse a few minutes ago. She’d been asked to convey Sheryl’s apologies. Long and short, my date has stood me up.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. We haven’t been seeing each other very long.”

  “Actually, I was about to go home.”

  “You can’t leave now—it’s almost midnight. Stay and have some fun, Madelyn. That’s what New Year’s Eve is all about.”

  “I’ve had my fill of fun for one night.”

  “Surely not.”

  He released her long enough to snag two glasses of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter. He handed one to her. “Drink up—the night’s young.”

  She saw his eyes twinkle. His face was a dream—far, far too beautiful for any woman’s own good.

  She hesitated, knowing she ought to tell him good night. Instead, she raised the glass to her lips and took a long, slow sip.

  Time flashed past, their glasses disappeared, and she was in his arms, her head spinning as they whirled to the music, their bodies pressed close in a way she should never have allowed.

  The band played a drumroll to signal the twelve o’clock hour was only moments away. Everyone stilled in a jubilant hush, then began to count backward from ten in a loud, boisterous chorus.

  “. . . five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . . Happy New Year!”

  Colorful balloons and gaily striped confetti rained from above as horns tooted and the band swung into a brassy rendition of “Auld Lang Syne.” Amid the glitter and spectacle, people embraced and kissed.

  Zack turned her to him, cupping her face in his hands as he smiled down into her eyes. “Happy New Year, Madelyn.”

  He leaned down and covered her lips with his.

  His kiss was electric, sending sparks whizzing through her body, head to foot. Her blood burned, singeing her nerve endings one by o
ne. She shuddered and gasped and, unable to form a single rational thought, let him take more. The world narrowed down to just the two of them, leaving her aware of only Zack and the way his lips moved on hers, how warm his hands were against her face.

  He drew away, slowly, reluctantly; their lips clung for a long, last second as if the flesh itself didn’t want to be parted. Then he tucked her close and turned them once more into the dance.

  Her heart thumped in hard, quick beats, so hard she wondered if he could feel it where their bodies met. She rested her cheek on his shoulder and closed her eyes, needing a few seconds to get her head screwed back on straight, since at the moment the top of it felt as if it might blow right off.

  What on earth was she doing? She didn’t even like Zack, so why had she let him kiss her? Worse, how could she have let his kiss affect her so strongly?

  ’Cause, wow, had it ever!

  At the next break in the music, she excused herself and headed for the ladies’ room.

  Once inside, she held her hands under a stream of cool tap water, then blotted a few drops over her face and along her throat.

  She studied her reflection in the mirror.

  Cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling, lips reddened—she looked like a woman who’d just been thoroughly kissed.

  I have to get out of here.

  She knew a rear hallway ran behind the ballroom. If she slipped around that way, she figured she could retrieve her coat and be outside and into a cab in a matter of minutes.

  She pushed open the door and stepped into the corridor.

  Zack unfolded himself from the opposite wall, where he’d been waiting.

  She stopped short, flustered. “Do you often loiter outside the ladies’ room?” she said, going on the defensive in order to cover up her discomfort.

  “Not generally, but something told me I might not see you again tonight if I didn’t.”

  There were times, she thought, when he could be way too perceptive. “As a matter of fact, I was just heading out.”

  “Without a good-bye?”

  “I didn’t think you’d need one, a big boy like you.”

  He laid a hand on his chest and made an exaggerated face. “I’m wounded.”