Remembrance: A Contemporary Erotic Romance (Iris Series Book 4)

by Lynn, Rebecca

  The party, which was set to happen in the next two weeks with a whopping 500 people on the guest list, was proving to be the largest and most important function her catering business had ever seen. The current plan was for Janie to circulate after the food was served, while Ayanna along with Catherine, another one of their chef friends, wrapped up the loose ends in the kitchen. This would allow Luke to introduce Janie around to the bigwigs at the party, helping her to make some more connections for her company.

  Janie brought her mind back to the present and watched Luke’s broad back move while encased in its charcoal gray cashmere sweater which fit him like a glove. Once he’d taken his cleansing breath, he turned around to face Janie who was still standing in the doorway of the quiet dressing room. Only Luke could’ve gotten such exclusive use of one of his stores for an hour on the weekend after Thanksgiving.

  “Get inside,” he said, stepping forward and backing her into the dressing room.

  She walked backwards, a flutter of nerves letting loose in her stomach at the command in his voice. She’d been hearing it a lot over the last several weeks. It told her he was losing his patience with her on a regular basis now. She found that promising.

  He kicked the door shut behind him and she jumped slightly. Then he turned her abruptly to face the mirror and looked at her through the glass from behind, licking his lips before letting his eyes drift to her cleavage.

  Whoa.

  While his eyes latched onto her chest, she watched as his hands gently took a handful of her hair, lifting it to the side. Scooping her long curls over her left shoulder, he skimmed over the skin at her neck and shoulders in a slow caress.

  Um. I need a glass of water. Stat.

  Her senses were on overload. The stillness of the empty dressing rooms only accentuated the sound of her hair swishing against the dress, the smell of his subtle cologne, the warmth of his body nearly pressed into her back, and his knee brushing the back of hers. Every movement and sound caused the breath to stop in her lungs as she watched him. He moved his eyes to meet hers while his large warm hand finally rested at the back of her neck, brushing away the additional stray hairs there, combing his fingers through them to move them to the side.

  He was expressionless and taking his sweet time. She almost purred and tried not to shiver, but was unsuccessful. He’d obviously felt her shudder because his eyes moved from her eyes back down to her cleavage then back to her eyes again, taking on a gleam that said he knew exactly what he was doing to her. She could’ve sworn she’d seen one corner of his mouth kick up.

  Well, she’d show him. She met his eyes with defiance and raised her chin while the fingertips of his hand slid an inch or so down the back of her dress. The friction of his skin on hers caused another chill to go through her and goose bumps appeared on her arms, but she stood her ground, continuing to watch him in the mirror. Her nipples had a mind of their own, however, straining against the ruched but fitted material of the bodice.

  Whether he intended to or not, he stroked her skin behind the top of the dress with the back of his hand before holding the fabric firmly so he could pull the zipper down.

  His eyes never left hers and were now glittering with something that Janie couldn’t quite put her finger on. She could only hope it was lust.

  Slowly he lowered the zipper while his fingers caressed over her spine. Lower and lower, stopping with the end of the zipper at the small of her back. Just above the top of her thong.

  Before the dress gaped open to fall forward from her shoulders, he smoothed his hands up her back, warming her skin, but causing another chill to pass through her.

  With her nipples tightening even more, his gaze dropped ever so slightly to the movement behind the fabric at her breasts, then met her eyes again just as quickly. This time his face acknowledged her reaction. He rested his hands on her shoulders and massaged her briefly, smirking at her in the mirror.

  “You better catch that dress before it falls,” he whispered around a smile on his lips. “You wouldn’t want to give me an eyeful, would you, baby girl?”

  She put her arms up over her chest to stop the dress from falling. “Nope,” she said smartly, annoyed that he would use his pet name for her at that particular moment. “I’m sure you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if I did.”

  Before she could step away from him, already prepared to get the upper hand in their first sexually charged battle, he pressed his fingers more firmly into the flesh at her shoulders stopping her in her tracks.

  “You better not be toying with other men like this, Janie,” he whispered his warning near her ear, his clear blue eyes looking intensely into hers. “You’re playing with fire.”

  His coloring had always reminded her of a wolf on the prowl. With olive colored skin and jet black hair from his Spanish heritage, he had the dark and dangerous thing down pat. But the eyes? Oh, his eyes were something else, sensual in shape, and so light blue in color, the black rims around the irises stood out even more. The press often compared him to a taller, more rugged Matt Bomer. She disagreed. His eyes had always reminded her of Jonathan Rhys Meyers. That heavy lidded, ‘I’m always thinking of sex’ look. At that particular moment those eyes were warning her to behave.

  Which was the last thing she wanted to do.

  Cocking her head, she said saucily, “Lucky for me, I know how to use a fire extinguisher. It’s actually one of the first things they teach you in culinary scho –”

  He glared at her and muttered dryly in Spanish, then removed his hands from her shoulders and turned to open the door. “Get dressed. We still have more shopping to do.”

  With that he closed it behind him leaving Janie so sexually charged that she nearly collapsed into a puddle on the floor. What the hell had he just said? She thought it was something about her language or talk getting her into trouble one day, but he spoke too fast and she couldn’t translate quickly enough.

  He definitely knew how to play these games better than she did. At one point when he stood behind her, she seriously thought he was going to reach his hands around the front of her and press them over her chest to touch her.

  Her breasts were so heavy with desire she had to press her own hands to stop the ache that vibrated through them. She let out a small moan at the sensation in her nipples and the slick wetness rubbing in the folds of her skin below.

  “Let’s go, Janie,” he bellowed from the other side of the door.

  God, had he heard her moan?

  She should’ve just let the dress fall to see what he would’ve done. Now she was annoyed with him and herself. Next time the opportunity arose, she was determined not to chicken out.

  She changed quickly and met him in the outer section where he was waiting. With authority and command, Luke Daniels wrapped his hand around Janie’s arm, propelling her to the next store location. Calling ahead, he had certain areas cleared so they wouldn’t be bothered by other shoppers.

  At almost 33, he was one of the youngest and most well-known CEO’s in the City. His highly analytical and innovative mind, creative eye, and fashion sense catapulted him to fame when he created GSoul, the ‘G’ standing for ‘Gotham’. It was a young, but growing fashion and lifestyle conglomerate, and was made up of up-and-coming individual designers and artsy retail stores based primarily in New York City, with some in other parts of the state. Their focus was on attracting the City dweller for which fashion and individuality reigned supreme, as well as affordability. Thanks to the New York press, but most recently those from nationally known fashion resources, he was often recognized and was forever trying to waylay fans whenever possible.

  He was no stranger to having his picture taken, having been raised by a diplomat as well as being the twin brother to Tiffany who was now an ex-wife of a well-known philandering politician from Boston. He took the public’s need to admire his fashion status in stride. But whenever possible, he avoided photographers, enjoying his privacy.

  Once they arrived to t
he shoes, he called Carolyn, his assistant, over and asked her to grab four pairs of heels, detailing the specifics. He sat Janie down next to him in the seating area and pulled her booted foot onto his lap.

  “Size 7.5, right?”

  She nodded, a little thrown that he was unlacing her boot for her. She leaned down to unlace the other one, practically straddling his leg in her jeans. She had to stop to hold onto the chair arm when he yanked her boot off, causing her to almost stumble from her perch on the chair. He continued holding her foot once the boot crashed to the floor.

  She rolled her eyes. “Geez, Prince Charming,” she muttered, straightening herself on the seat. “I hope when you’re putting that glass slipper on your Cinderella, you have a little more finesse.”

  Ignoring her, he said, “Carolyn, why don’t you grab a pair of new boots for me too. Some brown ones by Shane.” He looked at Janie, then said back to Carolyn, “She likes a lug sole, so get something chunky.”

  “Carolyn, I don’t need new boots,” Janie said to his middle aged assistant. “These are fine. Mr. Daniels here doesn’t appreciate my sense of style in footwear.”

  “I’d appreciate your sense of style in footwear if it was from this decade. These things are from high school, Janie. Yes, they’re a classic look but they’re in worse shape than Mike’s,” he said with affectionate disgust. Her older brother was notorious for wearing his worn out combat boots at almost every function. As a Harley riding cop, they were on his feet no matter what the season. “It looks like you traipsed all over Europe in these things. See this mud right here? Definitely London.”

  “You obviously don’t know your mud. That’s Paris,” Janie quipped.

  Luke thanked Carolyn and sent her on her way before Janie mumbled with a pout, “I like my boots. What’s wrong with them?” She held up the one from the floor to look at the holes starting to appear in the sole.

  “Nothin’ if you’re a soldier at war,” he muttered.

  “What, am I made of money here? I can’t afford a pair of Shane boots,” she said, referring to one of his new designers. “Even with your discount.” She began pulling off her sock getting ready to try on the heels.

  He continued holding her other foot in his lap and slowly peeled off her other sock. She held the shudder that passed through her but couldn’t seem to stop the giggle when his finger passed over the arch of her foot. She was extremely ticklish. Before she could remove her foot from his grasp, he enveloped her whole foot in his hands, warming her toes. He squeezed one and smiled with mischief.

  “You always did have such cute little toes.”

  “Say it and die, Daniels,” she said, already knowing he was going to say it anyway.

  Mimicking her voice as an eight year old little girl, he said, “Will you tickle my feet, Lukey?” That imitation caused her to playfully kick at him and he laughed while holding her foot still. “You were so fuckin’ cute.”

  She had extremely sensitive feet but as a kid had loved it whenever they were touched. She shrugged at him and smiled flirtatiously. “What can I say? I liked it when my feet were tickled.”

  “I know. You were so forward, even as an eight year old,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “With that angelic face,” he shook his head, “I knew you were trouble.”

  “I knew what I wanted and I went after it.” She gave him a pointed look and smacked her lips.

  He chuckled, reminiscing. “Yes, you did. I’d sit there on the sofa and you would plop your feet right on my lap, wiggle your cute-as-hell toes. ‘Tickle my feet, Lukey. Please?’” He shook his head. “You had me wrapped around your little finger with your strawberry blonde curls and that glint in your eye.”

  She wagged her eyebrows at him, then while letting a sultry smile play on her lips, she let her voice turn husky and repeated the words from her inner child, but this time as a woman. “Tickle my feet, Lukey.” She wiggled her toes. “Please?”

  His look immediately shifted from one of playfulness to one of intensity. The tip of his tongue darted out to lick the corner of his mouth and his fingers held her foot firmly in his lap.

  “You want to play, baby girl?” he nearly whispered.

  Chapter 2

  Janie watched his mouth form the words. The ‘baby girl’ sounded different this time. His thumb pressed into the ball of her foot. “Let’s see how long you can last.” His eyes stared into hers with determination.

  Arousal slammed into her in waves. Her face flushed and her heart surged in her chest. She met his eyes trying to withstand the assault on her senses. The appearance of his lazy smile only made it more difficult to stay focused.

  She gritted her teeth. Laughing wasn’t the reaction that first hit her with Luke’s hands on her foot. If she’d still been a little girl, she’d be squealing right now. But somehow as a 28 year old woman, Luke’s hands stirred up a whole slew of different reactions.

  He watched her, that sexy smile hovering around his mouth, his fingers pressing slowly and firmly into the arch of her foot. She put her hands down next to her thighs and lifted herself up to move in the chair, trying to relieve that glorious pressure building between her legs. Without being able to stop herself, a moan escaped from the back of her throat and she quickly covered it up with a cough.

  He chuckled, letting his eyes peruse her face. “You’re blushing, Janie. Why aren’t you laughing? You’re not ticklish anymore?” His fingers went from pressing into her arch to lightly brushing his fingernails just below where they’d been to her heel and she nearly shot up off of the seat, letting out a breathy laugh. “Ah, there it is.” He smiled and held on to her foot, saying, “Success.”

  Trying to regain some semblance of control over her body, she attempted to pull her foot from his hands just as he squeezed her pinky toe.

  “Uh, uh. Your foot’s stayin’ right here. You started it. You want to play with the big boys, you need to be ready, baby girl,” he said pointedly, giving her a challenging look.

  She glared right back and teased, “I do just fine playing with the big boys, Lukey.”

  “So you keep telling me,” he said dryly, then his face took on an expression of annoyance. “If you consider Detective Gonzalez one of the big boys, then I’ve got news for you –”

  Janie interrupted him, trying not to smile. “Detective Fernandez. You purposely get his name wrong every time just to annoy me.”

  He shrugged, not caring one iota. “Whatever.” Luke looked down at her foot, letting his hand lightly feather over her toes while he thought. She felt a rush of wetness between her thighs. “You never told me why that didn’t work out.”

  “I know,” she said pointedly. There was no way she was telling him that she’d broken it off with the detective because she couldn’t go through with having sex with him. She’d gotten close, but the man still holding her foot kept invading her brain.

  He raised his eyes to hers, his eyebrow up in question. “Hm, that sounds interesting.” His eyes turned stony. “Was he an asshole? Mike said you wouldn’t tell him. Is it because you knew we’d all kick his ass?”

  She rolled her eyes. “It just wasn’t a love connection. End of story. And even if he was an asshole, I can handle it. I’ve been dealing with assholes my whole life,” she said, her mind recalling her teenage years and the remarks she’d endured from boys.

  He watched the memories cloud her eyes. “I have no doubt you can handle yourself, Janie. I just don’t like to see you hurt.”

  She wasn’t sure if he realized it, but he was stroking her foot as he spoke, as if soothing her.

  “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Isn’t that what they say?” she smiled. “Well, at least Kelly Clarkson does.”

  He gave her an inscrutable look then his gaze passed over her shoulder. His expression cleared and he put her foot on the ground. “Thanks, Carolyn.”

  Janie looked behind her and Carolyn stood there with a pretty saleswoman laden with shoe boxes. The saleswoman’s eyes were all ove
r Luke, the color high on her perfectly rouged cheekbones, her eyes overly bright. It annoyed the shit out of Janie, but she couldn’t blame her. He really was quite a thing to look at.

  They laid out the shoes and Janie began trying them on, prancing up and down the room like it was a runway, tilting her feet this way and that so Luke could inspect them.

  After her fashion show, Janie made her decision.

  “Definitely those,” she said, pointing to a pale burnished gold pair of peep toe pumps with a flower on the toe made of the same leather.

  Luke nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair with his fingers steepled and tapping at his lips. “Put them on again. I want to see them one more time.”

  She began sliding her feet into the smooth leather as she joked, “Boy, you really don’t trust my fashion sense when it comes to footwear, do you?”

  “I trust it just fine. Other than your boots, I love your style. Like I said before, you always look good. I just wanted to see you work it again.” He wagged his eyebrows.

  She laughed. “I am pretty good, aren’t I?” With her boot cut jeans rolled up to her knees, she strutted with the heels on, putting some extra swing in her hips while eating up the floor like models did. When she reached the wall, she turned dramatically, pulling her cheeks in and pursing her lips giving Luke a ‘come hither’ look.

  His mouth quirked up at her antics.

  “Admit it. I’ve got Vanessa beat with all this goin’ on,” she teased, waving her hands over her curves.

  He coughed slightly and mumbled something in Spanish. Then he stood abruptly. “Let’s get you some jewelry, then I need lunch. All this shopping has made me hungry.” He licked his lips while looking at her legs. “You should wear skinny jeans. You got the legs for them, woman.”

  She stopped midstride at his compliment. “Dude, I will never wear skinny jeans.”