by A. C. Arthur
“I still love walking around here,” she said when they were once again alone on the dock. “It’s so quiet. And yet just a few feet out on the water there’s always a boat full of people, or someone on a jet ski, or lovers out for a midnight sail. It’s peaceful and picturesque. I really missed this in L.A.”
“Nothing peaceful about L.A.,” he said, standing next to her. The scent of her perfume wafted on the breeze, permeating his senses and hardening his body.
“You’re right.” She sighed, folding her arms over her chest.
They stood in silence for a few minutes as Dion slipped his hands into his pockets. “You remember the last time we stood here?”
She didn’t answer right away.
“Two nights ago when I came back” was her slow reply.
“No,” he answered. “The time before that… .”
Water lapped against the wooden piles of the dock, and darkness seemed to suddenly surround them.
“I remember,” she said.
“I can’t forget it—the way you looked, your scent, your voice.” The entire scene had replayed in his mind like somebody had hit the rewind button for the last ten years.
Lyra didn’t speak.
“I thought about you so much while you were away,” Dion continued, not sure why he felt the sudden urge to confess his deepest feelings where she was concerned.
“I kept in touch,” she whispered, then cleared her throat. “We wrote to each other and texted.”
“But you weren’t here,” he said simply, then turned so he was now facing her. “You weren’t just down the hall so that I could knock on your door and in seconds see your face. You were thousands of miles away.” He took a deep breath and waited a beat until she looked up at him. “I missed you.”
Chapter 7
Lyra’s heart beat a frantic rhythm in her chest. He was standing so close. The sky was lit with tiny twinkling stars and the water shimmered from the glow cast by the moonlight. A more romantic setting she’d never find, and yet she was afraid.
“I missed being home, too,” she said, thinking it was a safe reply.
The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile that said he knew that wasn’t what she really wanted to say. Of course, Lyra realized that what she did want to say was wrong. And the thoughts running through her mind and the feeling of arousal humming through her body was also wrong. It was a betrayal of her engagement to Mark, and she knew she should have been ashamed of herself.
“I should have told you to stay,” he said, knocking her further off-kilter.
“Dion,” she barely whispered before his hands were reaching to cup her face.
She tried to take a step back but he held her close.
“You told me to give you a reason to stay and I didn’t. I had reasons, but I didn’t give you any. I was wrong,” he said, looking deeply into her eyes.
Crap! she thought. Lyra should’ve turned and run as fast as she could into the house, to the safety of her room. She should have pushed him away, reminded him she was engaged. Instead Lyra found herself standing completely still, her hands reaching to touch his wrists.
“It’s done. We’ve both moved on.”
“Have we?” he asked sincerely. “No one else has been able to take the memory of our kiss from my mind.”
“Mark” was all she could manage to say next.
“Do you love him?”
“Of course.” Lyra cleared her suddenly dry throat again. “I’m marrying him?”
He raised a questioning brow and she wanted to throw herself off that dock into the chilly water. Dion could see right through her, he always had.
“It’s too late for this, Dion. We had our moment and it slipped away. We both lead different lives now.”
“And yet, here we are again, right back where we started.”
Lyra was shaking her head as he pulled her closer.
“Kiss me, Lyra. One more time, I want you to kiss me and then tell me to go.”
“You’re not being fair,” she whimpered.
He chuckled. “There’s no such thing as fair when I want something. You know that, Lyra.”
“But you can’t have me. Not now,” Lyra replied.
Dion only stared at her and slowly lowered his head. Her eyes were closing before her mind could warn them not to and his lips touched hers. Every muscle in her body seemed to melt and meld to his body as she tiptoed, slid her hands up his arms and across his broad shoulders, wrapping them around his neck.
His hands moved from her face, down around her waist where he held on tight. Fitting her closely to his body, he let the force of his kiss press her lips until they opened, their tongues touching with a heated flash that soared right through her body.
This was a hungry kiss, a needy exchange that seemed to go on forever and ever. The memory of that first innocent kiss that burned in her mind was replaced by the scorching reality of their still unfulfilled desire. Her heart hammered wildly and her fingers clenched his shirt before Dion slowly pulled away.
“Are you sure I can’t have you, Lyra?”
Reality took hold with the sudden breeze as Lyra felt the weight of guilt pressing against her temples. She pulled her hands away from him as if he’d singed her. She took several steps backward and breathed deeply.
When she felt composed enough, she looked up at him and saw the familiar dark brown eyes, creamy skin tone and chiseled outline of his face. He was just as she’d remembered him and so much more. He was her best friend and confidant and the biggest threat to her happiness. And he was also her past.
“You had your chance, Dion. I was willing to give you everything. It’s too late now.”
Lyra turned and walked quickly away before he came up with some argument that would wear away her defenses. She kept going until she was in her room, had closed the door and had safely locked it behind her. Only then did she allow herself to truly breathe. Her fingers touched her still-swollen lips.
What had she just done?
Chapter 8
Long acrylic nails tapped an annoying rhythm on the marble kitchen countertop. The heel of Katrina Saldana’s four-and-a-half-inch sling-back shoe clicked against the tile floor in a synchronized melody, as the air crackled with tension.
Katrina was not a happy woman.
“Bastard!” she yelled, tossing her now-empty champagne glass across the room so that it shattered into shards, scattering across the floor.
Dion Donovan was not breaking up with her, plain and simple. She’d invested almost five months in their relationship, and that wasn’t including the year and a half she’d spent plotting how to get close to him. Now he wanted to act like she didn’t exist, like she was just supposed to take his rejection lying down. Well, he had no idea who he was dealing with. In two years she’d be thirty. That was her deadline for being married to someone rich and famous so that she’d be set financially and socially for the rest of her life.
Dion was her carefully selected mark. With so many scrumptious Donovan men walking around, she had to set her sights on the one most likely to satisfy all her needs. He was the eldest son in Miami’s Donovan family and the head of Infinity Magazine, which meant he was the first in line to inherit everything. His cousins were all successful and handsome as well, but Dion’s laid-back personality combined with his macho self-confidence had aroused something in her from the first night she’d met him at Glimmer, a South Beach club he frequented—or used to frequent. In the past two months, she’d felt him pulling away, and the increasing distance between them was not a good thing.
About two months ago they’d had “the talk.” Whatever that meant. Katrina wasn’t sure, since she had never been given the brush-off by any man before. In past relationships, things were either on or off, and the decision was almost
always hers. Maybe that’s why the fact that Dion was avoiding her stung so much? No, it was more. She had feelings for Dion—as much as she could have feelings for any man—even though men hadn’t always been particularly kind to Katrina in her twenty-eight years.
But that was all about to change. Dion was going to be hers, even if she had to use unconventional methods to make him see that.
She ignored the mess she’d made, leaving it for the maid to clean up once she thought it was safe to come out of hiding and escape being the brunt of one of Katrina’s tantrums. Katrina walked out onto the balcony. It wasn’t her fault that the household staff was afraid of her. Then again, it was a good thing they were. Katrina liked telling people what to do and daring them to disobey her. Maintaining her staff was another reason she needed Dion Donovan. Her money was running low, and even though there were other men willing to help keep her from resorting to her previous occupation as an exotic dancer, she’d rather be married to a continuous cash flow than relying on tips and favors here and there.
She pulled her cell phone out of the pocket of her pleated champagne-colored slacks. Hitting speed dial, she put the phone to her ear and waited while it rang.
“Hello?” a deep voice answered.
“Hi, stranger,” she replied with a less-than-genuine smile, but she tried to make her voice sound cheerful.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite lady. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call? Last I heard you were clubbing it up with that rich Donovan dude.”
“That’s what I’m calling you about,” she said, looking out into the darkening sky. “I need your help.”
“Oh? What kind of help? Something that’ll necessitate my getting naked, I hope.”
“Stop it.” She laughed at his comment, but knew that the last thing she wanted was to sleep with him again for a favor. And knowing him, he wasn’t thinking of just the two of them, either. That’s just how he was. “I just need you to back me up. I’ve got something in the works and I need to know I can count on you for confirmation.”
“Confirmation of what?” he asked.
Katrina sighed. He could be so slow at times.
“Of whatever I say.”
“And what’s in it for me?”
She’d known that question was coming. “What you’ve wanted for a long, long time.”
He was silent for a few seconds then he chuckled. “If you can make that happen I’ll swear you’re the Queen of England.”
Tapping her nail on the back of the cell phone Katrina smiled. “I’ll just bet you will.”
* * *
Guilt assailed Lyra the second she opened her eyes and pulled herself out of the bed. In the shower she prayed the water would wash away her deceit, even though all she’d really done was kiss Dion. She’d done that before and it had been no big deal. There was really no reason for her to think differently now. Except that the last time Dion had kissed her he’d sent her away. No, that was too dramatic. He hadn’t wanted a future with her and thus told her to go to L.A.
She’d done that and she’d fallen for another man who now wanted to marry her. That should have been all that mattered—not the intensity of Dion’s kiss, the warmth of his lips, or the delicious stroke of his tongue along hers.
Lyra tilted her face upward toward the steamy shower spray and prayed that the stream of water cascading down her body would somehow wash those thoughts away. She was engaged to be married and Dion was—he was, dammit—he was still in her head.
All those years in L.A. had made her believe she’d been successful in pushing thoughts of him out of her mind. But she was wrong. He was still there, and after last night’s kiss she knew without a doubt his presence was stronger than ever.
There was a knock at her door the moment she entered her room after her shower. Her intention had been to get dressed and get out of the house as quickly as possible. Even though Dion no longer lived here, his family did. The last thing Lyra wanted was for any of them to figure out how she felt about Dion. Not that she would tell them, but they all had this uncanny way of knowing things without being told. If she had been inclined to believe in the supernatural, she’d think they had ESP. Instead, she decided the Donovans had a finely honed sense of intuition.
“Come in,” she heard herself say, pulling the belt to her robe tighter, just in case.
“Good morning,” Janean said as she quietly entered the room, smiling as though seeing Lyra was the happiest moment of her life.
“Good morning,” Lyra said letting that smile coax her into a good mood. Janean Donovan had never been anything but nice to her, and Lyra owed her the world.
“I just wanted to come in and steal a moment alone with you. You’ve been so busy since you came back.”
Always impeccably dressed, Janean wore a lavender silk sundress today with a white jacket. She crossed the room, coming to sit beside Lyra on the edge of the bed.
“I’m just trying to get acclimated at Infinity. I want to do a good job,” Lyra told her truthfully—at least as truthfully as she could.
“Of course you’ll do a good job.” Janean took Lyra’s hand, the left one with Mark’s engagement ring. “The boys have no doubt you’ll be good. That’s why they hired you.”
“They hired me because you and your husband told them to,” Lyra said.
Janean shook her head. “Oh, no, you should know better. We don’t do that. If you’re not qualified—even if you are family—you don’t work for the company. It’s that simple. The station and all the other companies mean everything to Bruce and Reginald. They wouldn’t hire just anybody. And you know how shrewd Sean is. If he thought for one minute you weren’t going to work out, he wouldn’t have agreed to your coming on board.”
To a certain extent, Lyra believed her. She had studied and worked with the best in L.A., and had built quite a reputation for herself. And before the offer came from Infinity she’d been seriously considering accepting a lucrative offer at Vogue. So, yes, she believed she was qualified to do the job. Now she was questioning just how smart it had been to agree to come back and work so closely with Dion.
“You’re right,” she said with a smile.
“So how are you settling in?”
She nodded as if to convince herself. “I’m good. Mark is busy looking for an apartment for us, so I won’t be in your hair too long.”
“Nonsense!” Janean waved a hand, catching the sunlight that poured in from the windows, making the diamonds in her rings sparkle. “What’s gotten into you talking so silly this morning? This is your home. You can stay here as long as you like.”
“I feel like the child who hasn’t left the nest.”
“But you did leave. You just came back. And we know it’s only temporary, but Bruce and I are happy you’re here just the same.”
“Thanks. You’ve always been so nice to me.”
“Now, don’t patronize me. I’m going to get angry if you do, and I know you don’t want that.”
Lyra sobered immediately. “No, ma’am.”
“Everything that Bruce and I have done for you is from our hearts. We love you, Lyra. You’re our daughter no matter what.”
Those words had been said so many times in the years she’d known the Donovans. She’d been welcome in their home from that first day. And she was more than grateful for that.
“What’s going on with the wedding? Have you and Mark set a date yet?”
Lyra stiffened. She realized she did and hoped that Janean didn’t notice it. Clearing her throat and lifting her hand to her mouth faking a cough, she tried to play it off. “We’re, um, we’re going to. I mean, the apartment hunting is first on the agenda.”
Janean nodded, eyeing Lyra suspiciously.
“Have you and Dion been okay at work?”
Wow, what an abrupt ch
ange of subject.
“Sure.”
“I saw his car here last night. Thought he’d come around and speak to me, but he never did. I figured the two of you had been together.”
Together? What did that mean? “Ah, we had dinner at Shorty’s. I missed their barbecue.” Lyra tried to smile, but it came out as a nervous laugh.
Janean was watching her closely—too closely. “You and Dion always did hang out a lot. I’m glad he’s been there for you.”
“Me, too.”
There was a pause and Lyra just wanted to scream. A part of her wanted to tell Janean everything, to pour out her heart to her. But she’d never poured out her heart to anyone—except Dion. Only now she couldn’t tell him what she truly felt. She couldn’t confide in him, because to do so would change everything.
Janean patted Lyra’s hand. “Lyra, if there’s anything you ever want to tell me or talk to me about, you know I’m here.”
She nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I know you’ve prided yourself on being independent since you graduated from high school, but understand that I’m here for you, just like always.”
Those words had Lyra relaxing slightly. “I know. And I appreciate everything you and your family have done for me. I’m just trying to get my head around the new job and finding a place and getting married. It’s a lot.”
Janean was still giving Lyra a funny look. “Yes it is,” she said. “Life has a way of changing sometimes, and it feels like you’re spinning out of control. But don’t fret. There’s always a plan. We may not know what it is or how it’ll play out, but there’s a plan for each of us.”
Janean had often told her that during her childhood. Lyra only hoped the plan for her was something she could live with.
Chapter 9
“This is the second apartment you didn’t like,” Mark said with more than a touch of frustration.
Lyra tried not to roll her eyes. She looked out the car window instead. “It’s on the top floor, twenty-two flights up. I was getting sick standing on the balcony.”
