by TJ Michaels
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Caramel Kisses
ISBN 9781419920318
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Caramel Kisses Copyright © 2009 TJ Michaels
Edited by Briana St. James.
Photography and cover art by Les Byerley.
Electronic book Publication January 2009
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Caramel Kisses
TJ Michaels
Dedication
As with every book I’ve ever written and will write in the future, I dedicate this work to the two people who’ve made this all possible. With their unending support, extraordinary patience, and the occasional cool idea or two, Tamara and Michael, you RAWK!
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Barbie: Mattel, Inc.
GQ: Advance Magazine Publishers Inc.
Häagen-Dazs: HDIP, INC.
Hershey’s Kiss: Hershey Chocolate & Confectionery Corporation
Jell-O: Kraft Foods Holdings, Inc.
Lord of the Rings: The Saul Zaentz Company DBA Tolkien Enterprises
Raiders: The Oakland Raiders AD, Football, Inc.
Riverdance: Riverdance Limited
Sony: Sony Kabushiki Kaisha TA Sony Corporation
Starbucks: Starbucks U.S. Brands
Chapter One
Sydni Cannes, Executive Vice President of International Shipping for Expedex, Inc., was in the damn clink.
Great. Just great. This was exactly what she got for trying to break out of her shell and get back into what most people called life and have some fun. Maybe even meet someone after her three year self-imposed relationship hiatus. And for her trouble she was in the local jail with sore feet, a jacked up hairdo and makeup that had to look like hell by now.
And it was all her sister’s fault.
Charli had talked her into getting her groove on at one of the local clubs. From the depths of her overstuffed closet she’d pulled out a pair of fuck-me pumps, a skimpy leather skirt that showed off her toned legs and a modest but delicious snake print spaghetti strap tank top. Even in spite of the little jellyroll on her tummy, Sydni had felt downright sexy that evening. She’d danced and sweated—which was the fun part—and blown off corny pickup lines from men young enough to cause a scandal. While it had been utterly frustrating to learn her sister had picked a teeny bopper club, Charli had still been right—it had temporarily taken Sydni’s mind off both work and how long she’d been without a steady boyfriend.
But bad luck and even worse timing landed her here with a bunch of women that looked like they could take on Mike Tyson in a fist fight.
The only thing that had gone right was the fact that she’d gotten talked into clubbing on a Sunday night. Which meant she only had to spend one night in jail before going in front of the judge on Monday morning, grateful not to have to spend another day wearing the same funky clothes.
First order of business for the day was Sydni’s case. Looking as rough as hand cut wood, she stood when the judge entered the courtroom.
“State your name.”
“Sydni Cannes, Your Honor.”
After all the preliminary blah, blah, blah type stuff he asked, “You understand why you’re here, Miss Cannes?”
Actually, she had no idea, so she responded with an honest, “No, your honor.”
Then the judge proceeded to give her a scathing set down for something she hadn’t even done, all while acknowledging she indeed hadn’t done anything. What the hell kind of sense did that make? The portly fellow wrapped himself in an extra layer of condescension as he described the luxuries and privileges to be had in jail—snarky bastard—and give advice on how a woman “her age” could avoid these kinds of situations. Riiight.
Boiling mad, and none too embarrassed, Sydni bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, fighting to keep a stranglehold on her emotions. Lord, if she opened her mouth something in the smart aleck department would escape and make the situation worse.
“Okay, let’s get down to it.” The judge’s impatience crackled in the air. “The charges against you are…”
“Excuse me. Drew Caruth, attorney at law. I’ll be representing Ms. Cannes. I apologize for being late, your honor. I was just made aware of Miss Cannes situation.” The voice came from the back of the courtroom followed by the cadence of determined footsteps.
Aw, hell. She recognized that voice.
Sydni’s head swung around. Her mouth dropped open the moment her gaze stuck itself to that of the most handsome man she’d ever seen walking around the Expedex offices these past few months. Though they worked for the same company, they didn’t work in the same department. In fact, they were seldom on the same floor, thank god. All Sydni really knew about this man was the effect he had on the goofball females of the company. It seemed that any woman walking down the hall at the same time as him fell under some ridiculous spell. After he passed they fanned themselves, made little “mmm” sounds, and giggled like children.
Sydni pretty much kept her distance from just about all of the men like the plague, except those she worked closely with. After all, Expedex, Inc. was her career, not her family. She worked—and worked damn hard—for a company that held more than one-third of the market share in shipping international goods. But just because she kept herself buried in her duties didn’t mean she was blind. The man was a god and a half.
Even as tired and distraught as she was, Sydni couldn’t help but notice the trim, broad shouldered delight was all suited up in a dark gray double-breasted affair with a black shirt and classic striking tie. The suit matched a pair of sparkling eyes, gray as the sky during a spring rain, and shielded by long dark lashes a woman would die for. Midnight black, tastefully cut hair had a hint of wave in it, and his skin held a healthy glow, like he’d spent just the perfect amount of time in the sun. Whew, goodness! Too young for anything other than gobbling him up with her eyes, he no doubt ranked high up in the uber-scorching-hottie department.
Then Sydni’s head tilted as a thought flew out of right field and hit her right in the temple—what the hell was Drew doing here on a Monday morning rather than at the office? But there was no time to dwell on it. Instead she blinked in awe when the unexpected lawyer spoke up and pretty much took it from there. She hoped he knew law as well as he dressed. If so, she’d be out of here in an hour.
And if not? No, she wouldn’t think about that.
All she had to do was keep her awkwardness at being bail
ed out by a co-worker in check long enough to get the hell out of dodge. Wait a minute, if Drew knew she was here, yet the man was nowhere near that club where she’d been busted last night… Oh god. Somebody else had to have spilt the beans on her. Embarrassment morphed into mortified. Her face heated to an alarming degree. Oh my god. Please, just get me out of here fast.
Erecting a façade of her typical cool demeanor, Sydni tuned back in to what was being said around her. She squashed all the questions swimming around in her mind when Drew turned and asked the judge if he could approach the bench.
Glad the table in front of her hid most of her practically bare legs, the fact slammed home that her life and reputation were in the hands of someone she didn’t really know. But would she look a gift horse in the mouth. Not bloody likely.
Next thing she knew, it was over.
“You are free to go, Ms. Cannes. All charges have been dismissed and I don’t want to see you in my courtroom for anything else. Not even a parking ticket.”
The knots she hadn’t even realized were lodged in the pit of her stomach suddenly loosened. Sydni held her breath to suppress the sound of relief trying to push itself up and out of her throat. Given her recent, er, adventure, surely the sound would have been something between a hilarious crow and a relieved yet semi-horrified snicker. Neither of which were wanted at the moment.
The one-size-fits-all jailhouse orange flip flops flapped noisily against the smooth tile as she, Drew and an accompanying officer headed toward the room where she would be processed and released.
“Wow,” she sighed tiredly. “I’m beyond relieved this is over. Thank you, Drew….what’s your last name again?”
The young lawyer who’d represented her case raised an arrogant brow, then grinned with an all-male “well, what did you expect?” expression. That grin made her want to smack him in the back of the neck.
“It’s Caruth. Drew Caruth.” And proceeded to look her up and down like she was today’s special at the local diner. “I’m in the South American imports division, a couple floors up from your offices.”
She scowled for all she was worth, annoyed that the skin on her arms tingled at his perusal. And how did he know where her office suite was in a twenty-six floor building, anyway? Instead of asking him what she really wanted to know, she simply said, “I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere other than Expedex, right?”
Instead of an answer, the man smiled. And it was a full, all out smile. None of that one-sided smirk stuff. The second he showed his pearly whites, his eyes sparkled as he met and held Sydni’s gaze. All thoughts of whacking him melted away. Drew was a damn charmer, a combination of gorgeous and cocky. Not a good mix and he was so not her type. But then again, he was awfully dreamy looking. What the hell? Her head certainly seemed to be doing plenty of flip flopping today.
Two steps away from the processor’s counter, Sydni’s common sense slammed back into place as a stern-faced female cop handed her a large plastic bag. Syndi turned away from the scowling reject from Helga’s House of Pain and dug into the bag containing her personal effects. “Wait, I need to make a phone call. Aw, damn it,” she snapped. Her cell was dead.
“Here” Drew offered, holding out a sleek little silver number. Sydni hesitated. “It’s okay, Sydni. I’m a friend of your sister’s. In fact, she’s expecting your call right about now so why don’t you use my phone?”
Friend of Charli’s? What was that about? This was just too perfect and going way too smoothly. And when Drew spoke a single word into the mouthpiece of the phone and it automatically dialed Charli she knew something was up. Sydni knew she was less than polite but couldn’t stop herself grumping as she snatched the phone from his fingers.
“Syd? Syd is that you?”
“Uh, yeah. Charli, what the hell is going on?”
“I guess you’ve met Drew. Didn’t he tell you what happened?”
“Well, no. We haven’t really had a chance to talk. I just signed myself out of damn jail. That’s the last time I go anywhere with you, damn it.”
“Get off the phone already. You can fuss at me when you get home. I’ll meet you at your house.”
“Wait, aren’t you coming to get me?”
“Girlfriend, are you blind and crazy? Don’t you see that fine-assed man who just got your ass out of jail? And not only is he good looking, but he’d be more than happy to give you a ride.”
Turning away from Drew, she covered the mouth piece and hissed, “And just how the hell do you know that, young lady?”
Drew chuckled and she turned the evil eye on him. He threw his hands up in man’s universal “I give” gesture and backed up a step. But the bastard was still grinning. Sigh. And what a devastating grin it was. She turned away with a barely suppressed growl.
“Never you mind,” Charli replied. “Just get home. I’ll fix you breakfast and fill you in.”
“You sure as hell will. And you’d better not be matchmaking at a time like this.” Sydni snapped the phone shut and handed it back to her newly acquainted lawyer. “Look, I don’t know you so I’m trying to reserve judgment, but just what are you and Charli up to? I sure as hell don’t remember her telling me she was dating a guy named Drew.”
“That’s because she isn’t. Now about that ride?”
And it looked like that was all she was going to get out of him, other than a lift to her front door. Damn man.
They made quick work of finishing up her business and headed out the back to the parking lot.
Drew couldn’t believe how things had worked out. Who would have thought that the woman he’d secretly ogled for what felt like a century would end up in such a predicament? While surely uncomfortable for her, it couldn’t have been more perfect from where he sat. In fact, Charli had said as much when she’d called him at two o’clock in the morning begging him to bail her sister out of jail.
First off, he couldn’t believe a woman as classy and untouchable as the Unsinkable Sydni Cannes would find herself behind bars. Second, he’d been asking Charli to introduce him to her again since the first time they’d met a year ago at a high-class shindig thrown in Charli’s honor.
Hell, Sydni hadn’t known he was alive then. And if not for her little stint with the law, she wouldn’t know he was alive now. Even working in the same building for the same firm he hardly ever saw her in the company café, the parking lot or any place else he tried to make of habit of running into her at. In fact, he’d thought perhaps she deliberately avoided him. But that was absurd. This woman had her life together. She was fine as his favorite dessert wine, and on top of her game in her career. And if all she’d done for her sister was any indication, Sydni was an all out go-getter, yet genuine and giving. Just what he wanted in a woman, mind, body and soul.
When he’d walked into that courtroom and saw her standing there Drew had been brought up short for a second. Even after having spent the night in jail the woman set his pulse racing and his imagination skating to catch up with it. What a big difference from the stylish pants suits she typically sported. The woman had on the sexiest little black leather skirt tailored so perfectly it seemed like someone poured it over her hips. But the killer was, in spite of sporting a pair of cheap plastic-and-foam jailhouse flip flops, the things still managed to make her calves look sculpted and her legs go on forever. Dayum!
In the four months he’d been at Expedex, Drew had seen Sydni plenty of times, but always from a distance. In fact, she seemed to hold herself apart from everyone, not in a cold way, but… Drew couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Even at Charli’s party, Sydni had managed to stay somewhat detached from her guests, always keeping Charli the center of attention, introducing her to high dollar potential clients.
But this morning was different. No “across the room” interlude or long distance gazes. Today he’d been within a foot of Mizz Cannes. He’d expected the attraction he’d felt for her to dance around in his gut at being so close, but what he hadn’t expected was the need to tak
e care of and protect her. Nor had he foreseen the insane sexual craving that made the blood boil down through his arteries.
She’d been a picture of concern and vulnerability with a slight edge of “pissed off”. Beautifully steaming mad. And god, he wanted her.
After the proceedings, Sydni grumbled the entire time she’d been in his car going home, but Drew didn’t give a rat’s rear end. Today, one of his prayers had been answered—he’d gotten a foot in the door with Sydni Cannes. And he was determined to get his whole body through then stick to her like glue.
* * * * *
Fresh out of a shower and the funk of the inhabitants of the county jail washed away from her skin, Sydni eased into the kitchen. Charli shooed her toward a high pub chair at the kitchen counter and Sydni moaned with delight. Her sister had created a decadent homemade breakfast of mascarpone-filled crepes with fresh strawberries and honey poured liberally on top.
“Mmm, this is so perfectly good it almost makes up for the blunder of the century. I’m so sleepy I don’t know what to do. And before you ask, hell no, I did not get any sleep in jail. Too busy watching everybody else watching me.” She licked a bit of strawberry juice from her spoon and laid it down on the breakfast tray just long enough to fuss. “That is the last time I go out with you, woman,” Sydni grumbled around a mouthful of the best crepes she’d ever had.
“It’s not my fault the heel broke off your shoe on the corner of the worst street in the Fillmore district,” Charli defended. “Nobody in their right mind would associate you with those hookers on the corner. First, you’re too classy by half, and second, when the police started rounding ‘em up, you would think they’d have paid closer attention to who they were grabbing off the street.”
“Well, it’s your fault for talking me into going to that raunchy club in the first place. You could have at least warned me that some local celebrities were going to be at the place,” Sydni said with no small amount of snark. “I would have avoided it like the plague. All those skanky women showing all their asses just hoping to get the attention of some celebrity-fied pimp.”
