Exclusively Yours

by Nadine Gonzalez

  “Why does it matter? You get to take it off.”

  “It matters. Were you going to meet him tonight?”

  “Who?”

  “Your boyfriend.”

  “For the hundredth time, he’s not my boyfriend. Although, if I had any sense he would be. He’s an awesome doctor and a good person. He saves lives.”

  “Even if he’d saved my life, I’d still want him out of your life.”

  Leila touched his face and playfully reminded him of the terms of their agreement. “You get eight weeks. After that, it’s anybody’s game.”

  “We’ll see,” he said. “You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

  She looked up at him, brown eyes shining. “I think I do.”

  Nick ushered her down the hall and into his condo. Once the door was closed behind them, he grabbed hold of her shoulders, swept her hair out of the way and yanked on the pull of her dress zipper. Cold air pouring out the overhead vent caused her exposed back to erupt in bumps. He turned her around to face him, giving her one last chance to back out.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Eight weeks, Nick. You’re wasting time.”

  He thought he might crush her with his kiss, but she rose to it again and again. With the first taste of her, he forgot everything that wasn’t her. The feel of her in his arms. Her scent. She moaned and the deep soulful sound filled his ears.

  Then the security alarm sounded, the most annoying, ear-piercing beeping that made her jump. Nick muttered, “Shit!” He released her to punch a code into a keypad near the door. “You make me forget everything.”

  “Don’t blame me.”

  His phone rang. While he reassured the security guard that he wasn’t a victim of a home invasion, Leila escaped him. She ventured deeper into the apartment, seemingly drawn to the view of the bay, the inky-black water reflecting a rainbow of city lights. Nick ended the call and silenced the ringer. He watched fascinated as she slipped out of her dress. It fell to a ring at her feet and she stepped out of it.

  “Turn around.”

  She did as she was asked. She was more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. That rich brown skin, those breasts beautifully packaged in lace. Those legs.

  Then it hit him.

  “You wore that for him?”

  She opened wide eyes. “That’s your reaction?”

  “Sorry, but—”

  “But what? Were you expecting Fruit of the Loom?”

  “It’s just—”

  “Nick, I worked at a luxury shopping mall for a long time. This is all I own. Get used to it.”

  “You’re telling me you wear lace every day?”

  “Except laundry day, of course.”

  He went to her, tucked a finger under the waistband of her panties. “Be honest. Is this why you can’t afford a new car?”

  She spoke through clenched teeth. “You’re killing the mood with these questions.”

  “Am I?” He fit his hand between her legs and ran his fingers along the delicate lace, finding it damp. He leaned closer and kissed her neck. “I’m going to be imagining what you’ve got on under your clothes every day from here on out.”

  “I hope so.”

  Nick snapped open her bra and found the pretty lace thing fell away effortlessly. He cupped her breasts and rubbed the pad of his thumbs against the nipples, forcing them awake. But he kept his eyes on her face. Brows drawn, eyes hooded and lips parted. She was so sexy.

  “Leila, you’re going to make me very happy for eight weeks.”

  “Nick, your happiness is out of my hands.”

  He took her delicate hand in his and placed it firmly on his erection. “I disagree. It’s very much in your hands.”

  She squeezed mercilessly. “I think you’re overdressed.”

  Nick took care of that in less than a minute. Then he scooped her up, carried her to the bedroom and tossed her onto the bed. He went to the bathroom for a condom and found her sitting up in bed.

  “Tell me there’s no one else. I’m the only one.”

  The seriousness of her tone gave him pause. She’d been so playful a moment earlier.

  “What are you worried about?”

  “Just answer me.”

  He swept her hair away from her face. “Leila, there’s only you.”

  She could take that any way she wanted. There was only her. No one mattered. No one else existed.

  She rose onto her knees, took the foil packet from his hand and ripped it open with her teeth. He watched her work the latex over him.

  For whatever reason, Nick had not imagined what type of lover she might be. For sure, he thought she might be shy. This Leila, he wasn’t prepared for. It both aroused and challenged him. And he loved nothing more than a challenge.

  Nick took her by the waist, swept her off the bed and onto the floor. He climbed on top of her, kissed her and whispered hoarsely, “Wrap those legs around me.”

  She opened to him and Nick’s longing for her receded and came crashing down on him. All those days. Those nights away from her. The torture of having her near, but needing to keep her at arm’s length. To be inside her now... To feel her soft and hot around him...

  Leila clung to him and pressed her face to his chest. Nick eased her away and pinned her arms over her head.

  This was no time to be shy.

  “You want me. Here I am.”

  He started to move. She bit her lip, muffling a cry. He wanted to hear her.

  “You’ve thought about me? Tell me.”

  “Yes,” she hissed.

  “When? Where?”

  “All day. All the time.”

  He kissed her again. “It’s relentless this thing between us.”

  She moaned and tried in vain to wiggle her arms free. Frustrated, she tightened around him. Her legs circled his waist and he dove deep inside her.

  “I’m your lover, baby. It’s you and me and no one else.”

  Nick released her arms and she flung them around him, gripped him tight, calling out his name while she came.

  * * *

  Leila inspected her body in the bathroom mirror, astonished that it wasn’t bruised after the demands of love. Her eyes were rimmed with smeared black liner but otherwise she was intact. She raked her fingers through her tangled hair, rinsed with mouthwash and scrubbed away the makeup with a damp towel. She did all this without actually confronting her reflection, afraid of what she might see. Ever since she’d met Nick, she had the feeling of driving blindfolded. A crash was inevitable. The proof was in the mirror.

  In the bedroom, blackout drapes held back the dawn. Nick was seated at the edge of the bed, his head low. His naked body was lean, his legs stretched out before him. He reached blindly for her and, when she was close enough, buried his nose in her naval. She stroked his hair, letting her hands travel along the length of his spine. His fingers found her sleek and ready, but still he stroked her until she let out a low cry. Then he took hold of her hips and guided her on top of him. She gasped, astonished, once again, by how well they fit. His fingers dug into her flesh. He controlled the rhythm. He controlled her.

  She was fooling herself. There’d be no getting over Nick. Not in eight weeks. Not ever.

  Chapter 11

  Nick left her asleep, returning a half hour later with breakfast and coffee. He found her on the balcony in one of his T-shirts and little else. Her back to him, she leaned gracefully over the rail, arching her back to better take in the view of the bay dotted with white sailboats. He tapped on the door; she glanced over her shoulder.

  He yanked open the door, walked over and kissed her hungrily. She reciprocated in kind. It was one of the things that had struck him. How generous she was with herself. All night she’d trusted him, had followed his lead without question. And he’d led
her down some tortuous paths.

  “Why would you leave a stranger alone in your apartment?” she asked. “I went through your medicine cabinet.”

  “You’re not a stranger,” he said, setting up the food on the low table. “I know where you work.”

  She blinked as if she didn’t know what to do with the fork and knife he’d handed her. “Did you hear me? I went through your medicine cabinet.”

  “So what? There’s nothing in there...except Advil and condoms.”

  That made her laugh. “So many condoms! You can’t be having that much sex.”

  “Don’t challenge me on that.” He stirred his coffee. “What else did you find?”

  “Your collection of suits.”

  “You went through my closet?”

  “I was looking for something to wear.”

  “A warrior needs armor. What else?”

  “Your bike and fishing rods. I didn’t know you fished.”

  “Those things are in plain view. You can do better than that.”

  “I wasn’t snooping.”

  He handed her a fresh bagel. “Of course not.”

  “Okay, well...” she said, going for the bonus round. “You read spy novels. A whole lot of John le Carré.”

  “It’s a good way to kill time on a plane.”

  “I figured you read Forbes or Fortune.”

  “I figured you’d figure that. Anything else?”

  She pointed to the pristine stainless-steel barbecue in a remote corner of the balcony. “You don’t grill.”

  “That came with the place.” He grinned. “You were a busy, busy girl.”

  Leila curled up on the daybed they shared. The breeze ruffled her hair and her brown eyes were clear. She was a gorgeous creature.

  “All in all, I really like your place.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Have you always lived here alone?” she asked innocently, spreading cream cheese on her bagel.

  “Always. It’s been my own little Bat Cave.”

  “How will you give it up?”

  “You know what they say about rolling stones.”

  Her face clouded with sadness and it broke his heart.

  “You know,” she said, “at some point you’ll have to take me back to the office so I can pick up my car.”

  He ran a hand down the length of her leg. “We are nowhere near that point.”

  “If you’re not going to take me back—”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then you’re going to have to tell me something about yourself. Something real.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “I don’t know anything about you except what’s in your bio.

  “You looked up my bio?”

  “No.”

  “Leila, you’re not as good a liar as you think.”

  “It’s right there on the agency’s home page. I didn’t look it up.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Anything!” she cried out, frustrated. “Give me something. I don’t know. Tell me about your childhood, your parents.”

  “My folks are academics, a couple of marine biologists,” he said. “Which means I grew up eating a lot of mac and cheese. Not one of them could cook worth a damn. Apparently, I was some kind of whiz—”

  “A prodigy?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. I tested well. Won things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Blue ribbons at science fairs, first place at spelling bees and speed-cubing. I was ace at speed-cubing.”

  “What the hell is that?”

  “It’s a competition where the fastest kid to solve the Rubik’s Cube wins.”

  “I could never figure out that stupid cube. How do you even do that?”

  “The possibilities are limited,” he said. “You work them out and lock them down.”

  He reached over and brushed a crumb from the corner of her mouth. She surprised him by grabbing his hand and kissing the palm.

  “If you’re as smart as you say, why aren’t you busy building a better mousetrap or something?”

  “Wait. Is my mother paying you?”

  “Well?”

  “My parents spent their lives studying algae. Their research depends on grants. They drive an old truck and live in a shell of a house. Every winter I worry they may freeze to death. If I were interested in algae, I’d have built a lab and made millions off the stuff. We’re different people.”

  “But they’re proud of you. They’ve got to be.”

  He wasn’t certain. “They don’t get what I do or why I do it. They’re not motivated by money.”

  “Money’s not your only motivation,” she said, looking at him over the rim of her coffee cup. Her thick lashes couldn’t hide the spark of curiosity in her eyes.

  “You’ve seen my car. You know what I’m about.”

  “Yes.” She leaned in and kissed him. “And I think it’s hot.”

  He welcomed the kiss but he wouldn’t be distracted. “Your turn. Go.”

  She shifted uncomfortably. “Where do I start?”

  “With your parents. How did they screw you up?”

  “Well, my father is from Haiti, so I grew up eating a lot of rice and beans.”

  “What do they do? Where are they now?”

  “In a better place.”

  Nick took a moment to absorb her words. “Baby, I’m sorry—”

  She waived away his concerns. “It was a long time ago.”

  Nick reached for her and drew her to him. He wasn’t fooled. Feigning detachment from her past was probably the only way she could live with it. “What happened?”

  “Two things happened.”

  He said nothing, waited for more.

  “My dad worked construction. He had an accident on site. Some scaffolding fell. A few months later, he died of complications. So my mom and I left Miami to join my aunt in Naples. My aunt had found work in the resorts and my mother thought she could, too. One Saturday morning, for no reason that I can remember, Mom decided to drive down to Miami. They believe she fell asleep at the wheel.”

  “Were you with her?” He would hate to think she’d lived through that kind of trauma.

  “I had a cold, but pretended to be worse off than I was. I stayed behind with my aunt and spent the morning trying on her clothes.”

  “That’s okay,” he said. “You were spared.”

  “It’s not okay. Not really.”

  “Leila...”

  “I picked my aunt over my mother.”

  “That’s not what you did. You ducked out of a boring road trip. What kid wouldn’t?”

  She paused. “When I say my aunt found work at the resorts, I mean she managed the spa. She’s my mother’s sister and very beautiful. My mom worked housekeeping. She had to push that heavy cart down the hotel halls...” Her voice trailed off. “She wasn’t the hotel spa type. I was twelve and I wished she was.”

  “Leila, you were a kid,” he reminded her.

  Just then his phone rang, offering them a reprieve. He took the call in the kitchen, pacing the hardwood floor. His eyes never left her. She looked so fragile, curled up in a ball, hugging her knees. He wanted to protect her from her past, her own negative thoughts and the world.

  * * *

  After breakfast, Nick rested his head on her lap with a laptop balanced on his chest. While he scrolled through real-estate listings, searching for options for Chris and Eddy, she raked his hair. All he could think was that she was his for eight sex-filled weeks—minus one day.

  He’d limited the search to properties located south of Fifth Street, the most exclusive strip on South Beach. Leila was astonished at the seven-figure prices.

  “Are you kidding me?” she cried. “Can they afford t
hat?”

  “They’d better be able to.”

  At dinner, the couple had left the budget open. Clearly, she hadn’t understood what that meant.

  They studied photos and videos of artfully staged rooms. He pointed out the wealth of amenities: gym rooms, tennis courts, valet services and Olympic-size swimming pools. He picked a thirteen-hundred-square-foot apartment on South Pointe Drive. List price: one million five. “What do you think about this one?”

  She looked over the photos. “Kind of plain, but it might work.”

  “The location is right on the money.”

  “I guess it’s worth a look.”

  He glanced up at her. “Hunting listings with you is the sexiest thing I’ve done with a half-naked woman.”

  She pinched his nose. “You Canadians live sheltered lives.”

  “Want to go see it?”

  “Now?”

  “Sure. I’ll give the agent a call. She’s a friend.”

  “Oh, I’m sure she’s a friend,” she said harshly. “I can’t go. I need a change of clothes.”

  “There’s a shop down the road.”

  “I’m particular about clothes,” she said. “I don’t want to spend money on an outfit I’ll never wear again.”

  “It’s on me.”

  “You’re not buying me clothes. This is not a scene from Pretty Woman. Just take me to my car.”

  Nick pressed for what he wanted. “I’ll take you to your car, follow you to your place and wait for you to change.”

  “How about you give me a couple of hours and I’ll meet you wherever you want.”

  “I’ll give you three hours, but we’ll meet right here. Pack a bag. Take everything you need. You’re spending the weekend with me.”

  Chapter 12

  The listing agent had agreed to meet them at four in the afternoon. Leila recognized her from the open house. Her name was Raquel Garcia, a brunette with an injection-filled pout. She was happy to see Nick—and only Nick.

  “Nice of you to tag along, Leila.”

  Before last night, Leila would have ignored her. But Nick was hers now—hers. This endless parade of snarky women grated on her nerves. She was about to say something equally caustic when Nick stepped in.