Unforgettable (Arabesque)

by Byrd, Adrianne

  “Show me where the nice lady is,” he said.

  Like a good girl, Brandy turned around and went back into the bedroom.

  Marcel followed and frowned when she’d stopped in front of a closet, but he cautiously went to it and opened the door.

  At the sudden scream, Marcel jumped back and Brandy barked.

  “Keep her away from me,” Diana yelled and uncurled from the closet floor to slam the door closed again.

  It took Marcel a second to process what he’d just seen: his secretary transformed into a hysterical crazy woman. “Diana?”

  “I mean it, Marcel. Make her go away.”

  He looked down at Brandy, who lifted hurtful eyes toward him. “Sorry, girl. Go on downstairs.”

  Brandy hung her head and padded out of the room.

  Marcel walked over to the bedroom door and closed it. “All right, Diana. She’s gone.” He heard some rustling before the closet door squeaked open.

  “Are you sure she’s gone?”

  He moved back to the closet and the utter terror on her face squeezed his heart. “She’s downstairs. My God, how long have you been in there?”

  “I’m not sure.” Diana timidly eased out of the closet, looking nothing like his well-put-together secretary, but more like a tousled mess with dazed eyes.

  There was a soft knock on the door. “Sir, is everything all right?”

  “Yes, Charlie. Everything is fine,” Marcel called out. “Ms. Guy was just frightened. She’s going to be just fine.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Marcel draped his arm around Diana and pulled her close. “Come over here and sit down,” he said, leading her over to the room’s king-size bed.

  Once she was settled, he was at a loss for what he should do next. “Uh, can I get you something? Do you need a doctor or anything?”

  Diana took several breaths, seemingly to calm herself down before being able to focus on him. Then, she came up swinging. “You said that she wouldn’t attack me,” she screamed, swatting his arms, chest and whatever else her hands landed on. “You lied.”

  “What? Wait! Whoa!” Marcel tried to dodge out of the way, but was unsuccessful. Instead, he waited for her to get it all out, which, thank heavens, didn’t take long.

  “Do you know how terrified I was?” She slumped back onto the bed. “I thought I was going to die in that closet.”

  The dark angry flush to Diana’s cheeks, the bright sparkle in her eyes, and the wild tussle of her hair gave his prim and proper secretary the look of a seductive siren, which struck a chord with him. A nice chord.

  He cleared his throat and tried to shake the direction of his thoughts. “I think maybe you might have overreacted.”

  “Overreacted!” Her eyes widened. “You’ve got to be kidding. Your baby chased me around the entire house barking and nipping at my heels.”

  Marcel frowned. “Brandy?”

  “No, Lassie. Of course, Brandy. She was going to rip me to shreds.”

  “Brandy?”

  “Yes, Brandy. Will you stop asking that?”

  “I’m sorry, but it just doesn’t sound like something she would do.”

  “What? You think I’m making this up or something?” Her anger started refueling itself.

  He held up his hands. “No, no. I’m not saying that. It’s just—”

  “Then what are you saying?” Her hands jabbed at her hips.

  Marcel took a deep breath while trying to figure out another way to handle this. “Why don’t you just tell me what happened?”

  Reining in her temper, Diana told him everything that had transpired after their call.

  “You picked up one of her toys?” He stopped her in the middle of her story.

  She shrugged. “It was lying in the middle of the floor.”

  A smile wobbled at the corners of his lips. “Tell me,” he said, crossing his arms. “When she was chasing you throughout the house, did you still have the toy in your hand?”

  Diana frowned. “I don’t know. I guess so.”

  “That explains it.” Marcel laughed. “She wasn’t attacking you. She was playing.”

  His laughter deepened but Diana just glared at him. “Do I look like I’m amused?”

  “Ah, no.” All humor evaporated from his face. “You look sort of pissed.”

  “That’s because I am.” She stood up from the bed again. “Don’t ever ask me to do this again. And I’m shooting Solomon on sight.” Storming past him, she went back to the closet and then walked around. “What did I do with my purse?”

  “You dropped it on the stairs,” he said, walking behind her as she headed out of the bedroom.

  “Figures. I’m out of here.” She jerked open the door, but then screamed, slammed it and leaped against Marcel.

  His body instantly became alert with the cute bundle enfolded in his arms. He was suddenly aware of the soft fragrance in her hair and the sweet scent of vanilla on her skin. She couldn’t possibly know how sexy she looked right now. “What is it?” he asked, his heart slamming against his rib cage.

  “She’s outside the door.”

  “Who?”

  “Your dog!”

  Her eyes darkened to sparkling jewels again and Marcel wondered what she would do if he kissed her right now. It was a stupid and wild idea that appealed and concerned him. “I’ll go put her up,” he said, but struggled to pull his gaze away from her.

  Diana moved away from the door while Marcel waltzed past her and out of the door as she struggled to bring her breathing back to normal. For a moment there, she wasn’t sure if her heart was pounding because of the dog or how Marcel had looked at her.

  Being near Marcel often clouded her thinking and her ability to process rational thought became an arduous chore, but she could have sworn there was something more to the way he’d just looked at her. In fact, she couldn’t remember him ever looking at her like that.

  “You’re imagining things,” she said, shaking her head. But a part of her wasn’t so sure.

  Chapter 12

  While Marcel led Brandy out to the dog run, he couldn’t stop the smile that stretched across his face. Damned if he understood why he found Diana’s anger such a turn-on—but he did.

  Sliding open the back door, he gave Brandy an affectionate scratch behind the ear before she trotted out.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” Charlie asked, joining him in the living room.

  Marcel glanced at his watch. It was nearly 1:00 a.m. “No, I’m good. You can head home.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Charlie said, but didn’t leave.

  “Something else on your mind?”

  Charlie smiled. “I was just wondering if Ms. Guy would be needing a lift or an escort home.”

  Marcel’s lazy smile diminished when he suddenly remembered Charlie and Diana’s curious friendship. “I believe I can see to it that she makes it home.”

  Charlie raised an inquisitive brow, but he didn’t question Marcel. “Yes, sir.”

  Marcel’s gaze narrowed in suspicion as he followed Charlie toward the front door. Surely if something was truly going on between the driver and his secretary the man would’ve protested more about her being left alone with him.

  Charlie stopped a few feet from the front door and pivoted around to face Marcel. “If I may, sir?”

  Marcel’s heart sank. “What is it, Charlie?”

  Charlie looked unsure of himself. “About Ms. Guy,” he began.

  “What about her?” Marcel asked almost defensively.

  Charlie hesitated. “She’s not like the other women you tend to…date.”

  Surprised, Marcel arched his brows. “Oh?”

  Charlie swallowed. “Yes, she’s, uh, special.”

  With his good humor finally returning, Marcel laughed and crossed his arms. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re getting at.”

  “No disrespect, sir,” Charlie said with an awkward grin. “But I believe you do.”

  M
arcel’s smile froze and the laugh he forced out cracked under pressure. “I guess maybe I do,” he finally said. “But, uh, there’s just one problem, Charlie. I’m not dating Diana. She’s my secretary. I have a rule about dating employees, remember?”

  Charlie remained unmoved by his candor. “I know you as Casanova Brown as well, sir. And for him, rules have been known to be broken.”

  Diana settled back on the bed and picked up the bedside phone to call home. Her grandmother was undoubtedly out of her mind with worry.

  After she’d dialed the number, she wasn’t even sure the line rang once before Louisa’s shaky voice answered.

  “Hey, Nana. It’s me. And yes, I’m fine.”

  “Oh, thank God,” Louisa sighed, and then immediately tore a chunk out of Diana’s hide. “Why didn’t you call? Do you know how worried I’ve been?”

  “I’m sorry,” Diana said and quickly informed her of what she’d been through that evening.

  “Why on earth would you agree to feed the man’s dog when you’re—”

  “I know, I know. I wasn’t thinking right. And Lord knows I’ve learned my lesson.”

  “Well, Caleb is out looking for you,” Louisa said. “I’ll call him and tell him you’re all right.”

  “Thanks, Nana. I’ll be home soon.”

  “Well, you can take your time, dear. Now that I know where you are, I can get some sleep. Oh, tell Marcel I said hi.”

  “You’ve got the wrong idea, Nana.”

  “Don’t take away my dreams, Diana.”

  Sighing, Diana ended the call. She could already feel exhaustion seeping into her bones.

  She looked around and for the first time took in the room’s excessive extravagance: beautiful paintings, expensive colored glass vases and a plasma television. “Must be nice.”

  What was taking Marcel so long? she wondered. She stood up from the bed and walked over to the door. She reached for the knob, and then thought she should at least check to make sure he and Brandy weren’t on the other side ready to pull some horrible joke on her.

  She leaned over and pressed her ear against the door. In the next second, it flew open and smashed her back against the wall.

  “Di—”

  “Ooww!”

  Marcel pulled the door and peeked around it. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” He closed the door and went to her. “Are you all right?”

  She held up a hand to keep him back, but when her other hand touched her throbbing nose, she howled in pain.

  “Di?”

  “What are you trying to do, kill me?” She inched away from the wall and returned to the bed. “I don’t know who’s worse, you or the dog.”

  Marcel followed her, trying to get a good look at what he’d done. “I’ll go get you some ice.”

  Before she could stop him, he rushed out. “I need to get out of here,” she said, pulling herself off the bed. “Enough is enough.”

  Marching out of the room, Diana had no intention of waiting for ice.

  At the stairs, she saw her purse and its contents sprawled everywhere. “Just great.” She walked down and started picking up her things.

  Marcel returned and raced up to her. “Hey, I’ll get that for you.”

  Diana crammed what she had into her purse and then sat on the stairs. If she wasn’t so mad, she was sure she would start crying.

  “Come here,” he said, sitting next to her.

  She eyed him wearily.

  “Trust me.”

  “You’re kidding, right?

  Marcel exhaled. “Please.”

  His soft puppy dog look was extremely effective, she realized as she inched closer.

  “Thank you.” He rewarded her with a breathtaking smile. “Now tilt your head back.”

  She did as he said and sighed in relief when he pressed a cool compress against the bridge of her nose.

  “I take it you like that.” He chuckled.

  “Ooh, that feels good.” She stretched back on the stairs. “I almost want to forgive you for nearly breaking it in the first place.”

  “You’re too gracious.”

  She smiled and kept her eyes closed. Though she was enjoying the soothing feeling from the ice, Diana was quite aware of the heat generating from him, as well. Lying so close, she relished the way the faint scent of his cologne tickled her nose.

  “Is there anything else I can get for you?” he asked, his minty breath drifting across the shell of her ear.

  She swallowed hard and slowly shook her head. “Surely you don’t want to lie on the stairs like this?”

  “I’m fine. I’m leaving anyway.”

  “I better move you back to the bed.”

  “That won’t be—”

  His arms swooped beneath her body and lifted her.

  Diana’s eyes flew open as she finally removed the compress from her nose. Pretending that she didn’t feel a bolt of electricity throughout her body while cradled in his arms was nearly impossible. “Mr. Taylor—”

  “We’re back to Mr. Taylor again?” he asked, carrying her into the spare bedroom.

  Was that annoyance she heard in his tone? What the hell was he annoyed about? She was the one with the day from hell. “Marcel, if you could please put me down. I don’t need to lie on the bed,” she finished just as he placed her on the cream-and-gold comforter. “Besides, I’m starting to feel much better,” she added.

  Marcel’s expression soured as he reached up and gently tweaked her nose.

  “Ooww!”

  “Yeah, much better.” He chuckled.

  “Maybe it’s broken,” she said with sudden concern.

  “If you’d let me get a good look at it—”

  “No!”

  He stood up and folded his arms. “Now, Diana, I thought you were many things, but I never would’ve thought you were a coward.”

  “Finding me at the bottom of a closet should have been your first hint.”

  He stared at her. “Good point. Do you want to go to the emergency room?”

  She placed the compress back against her nose and wondered if she really thought the thing was broken. “No. I guess not.” She eased back against the bed’s pillows. “I’ll just lie here until it stops throbbing.”

  He rewarded her with another beautiful smile. “Good girl,” he said, ruffling her hair.

  “Stop that. I’m not a dog, you know.”

  He actually managed to look contrite. “Sorry.”

  Diana smiled. “It’s all right.” Then her eyes grew wide when he walked around to the other side and climbed onto the bed to lie next to her.

  “Just in case I didn’t say it earlier, thank you. It was very courageous of you to try to take care of Brandy with your phobia.”

  She shrugged. “I wouldn’t necessarily call it a phobia.”

  He chuckled and caused the bed to vibrate gently beneath her. An image of him reaching over and unbuttoning her blouse flashed through her head. As a result a sweet tingle shot through her body and curled her toes.

  “Diana?”

  “Huh, what?”

  He frowned. “I asked you what you would call your fear.”

  She blinked and shook the R-rated thoughts from her head. “I don’t know. Crazy, I suppose.”

  Another chuckle, another jiggle of the mattress.

  After a while the room grew loud with silence. Diana kept her eyes closed and concentrated on trying not to think about just how close their bodies were at that moment.

  “Mind if I ask you a personal question?” Marcel asked.

  “Yes.”

  “All right, I’ll ask it anyway.”

  “Surprise, surprise.”

  “Is there anyone special in your life?”

  Diana’s eyes flew open as she lowered the compress. “I fail to see how that’s any of your business.” She sat up.

  Marcel followed suit. “I realize I’m prying.”

  “But?”

  “There’s no but. I’m just curious. Seems to me any man
would be happy to have you.”

  “I’m leaving.”

  Before she could pull away, Marcel’s electrifying touch restrained her. “Look, I’m sorry. You’re right. None of this is any of my business.”

  It wasn’t the words so much as the tone that kept her frozen on the bed. Frankly, she didn’t think he was sorry at all, but his underlying and seductive baritone instantly caused her pulse to quicken and her head to fill with erotic images.

  “It’s okay,” she said in a shaky whisper. “But I really do need to get going.”

  “You know you’re more than welcome to stay.”

  Her gaze jerked to him. “Stay?”

  He shrugged. “It’s late and with seventeen bedrooms, there’s plenty of space.”

  Again, the words were innocent, but the tone wasn’t. Was this the way the infamous Casanova Brown worked his magic?

  “It’s a generous offer—”

  “But?”

  “But I think it’s inappropriate.”

  Marcel laughed and the bed bounced wonderfully beneath her.

  “Don’t tell me you’re afraid to be alone with me in a twenty-five-thousand-square-foot house.”

  “We’re only three inches apart right now,” she said.

  His gaze turned somber as it locked onto hers. “Don’t you feel safe with me?”

  That tone again. “With you, yes. From you is a different story.”

  He blinked in surprise, turned and stood from the bed. “My reputation as Casanova Brown is more urban legend than fact,” he said defensively.

  “So you haven’t slept with a lot of women?”

  He stalled as if he just realized he’d backed into a corner. “I’ve had a few relationships.”

  Diana crossed her arms. “How many?”

  He blinked again, and looked like a deer caught in headlights.

  “Urban legend—right.”

  “Okay, you’re right. I’ve overindulged in the past. But I don’t attack women in the middle of the night. I’m more than capable of being around a good-looking woman without having to jump her bones.”

  Good-looking? Diana’s hand instantly flew up to her mussed hair. She undoubtedly looked as if she’d been in a train wreck.

  “And what about you?” he asked, going on the attack. “How many men have you had sex with?”