Tiger Lily: Part One

by Amélie S. Duncan

  Gazing up further, I met the most luminous eyes I had ever seen. They were a rare combination of blue and turquoise like a tropical sea. He had black wavy hair that hung a little longer on the top and sides. Some lines around his eyes, but boasted of an otherwise flawless face. With a smooth angular jawline, straight nose, and well-defined cheekbones most women would die for, he was divine. Not to mention, full sensual lips were flashing a perfect set of teeth.

  My hand trembled a little as I took my handbag from him, and recognition finally set in. He was not only gorgeous, but he was the man I had come here for, Jonas Crane. Serendipitous or cliché, it didn’t matter. My “accidental on purpose” encounter with him had taken place.

  The photos I had seen online didn’t do him justice. Jonas was not only stunning, but magnetic. All eyes in the room gravitated towards him. Who would blame us? He was perfection, from his dark stylish locks to his impeccable suit that fit his frame like it was tailor made for him. His deep blue shirt was pressed and unbuttoned at the collar, exposing a hint of skin, and the thought crossed my mind if his skin would feel as smooth as it looked.

  I would guess his height well over six feet, though truly he stood out and above all around him. Perhaps it was the way his presence commanded attention. Whatever, the case prompted me to inadvertently hold out my clammy palm for him to shake, which he took without hesitation.

  He held on to my hand as his gaze roamed over me in a slow, deliberate manner. My pulse sped up as I followed its path from head to toe, with a lingering at the embroidery along the top half, the bodice of my dress, that had me shift on my feet. When his eyes met mine again, it was dark and penetrating.

  My cheeks were already hot from embarrassment, but that didn’t stop me from ogling him, though I tried my best to stop. “Thank you. Thanks a lot.”

  “You’re welcome, I’m Jonas Crane,” he said, the corner of the right side of his lip raised. My brows rose and my lips parted in an ‘O.’

  Jonas squinted. “But I believe you know that.” He had a velvety richness to the tone of his voice that left me wanting to hear more.

  I moved to take my hand back, but he held on, awaiting a response from me.

  My breath hitched, “I do. Yes. I’m…‌I’m Lily Salomé. Just Lily, Mr. Crane.” I stammered.

  “Jonas, please, Lily. I saw you walk in.” He let go of my hand and chuckled as I wiped my clammy hand on my dress.

  My face burned. He saw my grand entrance! “Sorry,” I said softly. His stare was fixed, concentrated on me as if waiting for me to say more, but I had found myself stumped in front of him, only heightening my awkwardness.

  Avoiding direct eye contact, I stopped gaping at him and reigned myself in, by stilling my trembling hands that were poised to release my handbag again. My thoughts not releasing me from my clumsy entrance, gawking, and clammy handshake. I managed to blow my opportunity in less than ten minutes! I started to edge away, but to my surprise, Jonas took my elbow and steered me to his side.

  “Would you like to share a drink with me, Lily?” Jonas asked, but his act of positioning me at his side answered his question. Truthfully, I didn’t mind, though I found it surprising.

  I glanced over at him, and fidgeted. Not knowing how to act or be. Especially when I found his attention steady on me. It was like being under a magnifying glass. Every part of my body lit and tempted by him.

  “Do I make you nervous?” Jonas asked another question, and this time I answered.

  “Yes, you do actually.” My blunt answer earned me another flash of his gorgeous smile and gave me the impression he was aware of the affect he had on me. As striking as he was, it was likely a common occurrence.

  “So what can I do to make you less nervous?” Jonas stepped close and I fought to get my pulse under control.

  Not that. I shrugged and grinned. “I have no idea.”

  His gaze dropped to my lips, and I found myself leaning a little closer to him. What was I doing?

  Jonas grinned and motioned for the bartender to come over, simultaneously asking, “What would you like to drink?”

  Shifting on my feet, I worked to bring my mind back to task. I came here for my job to meet him and even though I recognized him, a drink could still be my “in” to discuss Arch, which put me right on plan. “Sure. Okay. Um…‌Merlot.” The only drink that came to mind in the moment.

  Jonas turned and placed the order, including a Scotch neat for himself, just as Gregor had predicted. He was kind of scary in his stalking, but nevertheless, I was impressed.

  “Are you a guest at the hotel?” Jonas asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “I’m not?” It came out as a question. I didn’t have a good script in mind as everything was happening so fast. “No. I’m not. Just here for a drink.” I fidgeted.

  His sea blue eyes went stormy and he tapped his hand on the bar. “I suspect there’s more. So you might as well tell me.”

  I took in a short breath. The way he said it came out as a command and I found myself answering without thinking. “You’re right. I had rehearsed an introduction, before my handbag sailed across the room and hit your shoes. Anyway, I work for Arch Limited Publishing House and….”

  “And you came to discuss my book,” Jonas finished for me. His lips pressed together.

  I eyed him sheepishly. “You don’t have to buy me a drink or anything. It was rude.”

  My eyes focused on the opening along the collar his shirt. “I apologize. This isn’t…‌I’m sorry.”

  Jonas held the glass of wine out, brushing his fingers with mine and sending an electric jolt through me. I never had this reaction to anyone before, and didn’t know what to make of it. Liquid courage. I tipped my glass back for a generous sip.

  He chuckled. “It’s fine. But I’d prefer not to talk business.”

  I nodded. “I understand.” I understood he didn’t want to talk about his book, but why offer a drink to me when he was now aware I came to do as much? I glanced up at him and found his gaze was steady on me, which sent a fluttering through my stomach.

  “So, you’re an editor at Arch?” Jonas asked.

  I shook my head. He’s asking me about work. Perhaps business isn’t completely off limits. “Not exactly. I work more as a publishing assistant for the chief managing editor, Gregor Worton.”

  His eyes flashed and he gave a curt nod, but his gaze hadn’t left me nor did he speak, so I continued.

  “I do some preliminary reviews of manuscripts and editing here and there…‌I was an Anthropology major in college.”

  He tilted his head, and his lips curved. “Socio-cultural, biological, linguistic?”

  My jaw dropped. He understands Anthropology? “Cultural studies. My passion lies in cross-cultural research and studies. I’m most interested in the research related to creating new dialogue and voices in cultural exchange.” I jabbered. I’m boring him to death. I flushed. But when I peeked at him, I found his focus hadn’t detoured. In fact, he was grinning at me.

  I licked my lips. “Sorry. I can ramble on; I rarely get to speak about cross-cultural studies. I didn’t mean to go off on a tangent.”

  Jonas took a sip of his scotch. “No need to apologize. I find it…‌refreshing.” He cleared his throat, “Where did you attend college?”

  I put my glass down and pushed my hair over my shoulders. His gaze followed and I tried to will away the butterflies in my belly. “Boston University. I’m from Massachusetts, actually Quincy. I grew up in Quincy.”

  Jonas kept a grin on his face as he listened. I could only imagine him thinking Arch were silly in sending me. Who are you? I thought angrily to myself. I wasn’t this bad at conversing, but with Jonas I didn’t seem to be able to keep myself together. He unhinged me.

  He touched my arm lightly and a tremor went through me as the electrical current flared between us. Did he feel it? I allowed my eyes to linger on his that were fixed on me and shuddered. He must.

  Sipping my close to empt
y glass of wine, I gave him a small smile. “Thanks,” I said quietly. “I’m nervous. I don’t usually do the social side of work or hang out in bars to chat.”

  “You’re doing great.” He took a sip of his Scotch. “But how about you try asking me questions. That might relax you a bit. How does that sound?”

  My face heated, as I noted the amusement in his tone and his closeness to me. He’s doing this on purpose! I thought, grasping on to the little annoyance at him that crept in as I worked to unscramble my brain and calm my heart from trying to escape my chest. “So what do you do in your spare time?” Why did I ask that? It sounds like a stupid interview.

  Jonas fingered the rim of his glass. “I have many interests,” he said equivocally.

  I rolled my eyes. I didn’t think it wasn’t going to be that easy, but I hoped he would have shared or at least said something. “Fine, I’ll go first,” I said. “I’m a Leo. I practice Tantric sex, and I sing to my cereal. What about you?” I joked.

  Jonas stared at me as if I had sprouted a new head before finally laughing. I let out a breath I wasn’t aware I was holding and joined him. A tingle went through me. He somehow appeared even more gorgeous when he laughed.

  “You didn’t like my answer,” he said, his eyes glimmering.

  I emptied my glass of wine. “No. I understand perfectly. You don’t want to share with the stalker that’s hanging out at a bar trying to pursue you while you unwind.”

  “You’re pursuing me?” he asked coyly, giving me a look that weakened my knees.

  My hands shook as I attempted to place my glass on the counter. He reached out and placed it down for me. “I…‌I don’t know.”

  “You don’t have to answer that.” He reached out and tucked a curl behind my ear. “I was merely teasing you, like you were teasing me.”

  His tone was soothing, though the sensation of his touch sent a jolt through my body. I took in a ragged breath. “I…‌thanks, Jonas.”

  “You’re welcome, Lily,” he said with a hint of amusement in his tone. He took another sip of Scotch. “Now to answer your question. I enjoy sketching, classical music, literature, old movies, Tantric sex….”

  Jonas paused and waited for my blush, which I gave to him on cue. He responded with his own broad grin. “I also enjoy philosophy. Philosophy is at once the most sublime‌—‌”

  “And the most trivial of human pursuits. William James.” I met his eyes full on.

  “However, philosophy is our inspiration, our doubts, challenges, what perception exists that does not have philosophy as its origin?” I said.

  “Lily, now that’s a dialogue we could share for eternity.” His words thickened the air between us. The moment was palpable and I fell into it. His eyes blazed over me this time and a shiver coursed through my body. My own eyes were unable to move away from his, as my chest heaved. We were locked together, the distance between us gone.

  It was Jonas that ended the connection by shifting his stance and running a hand through his hair. The light caught the ring on his hand, dispelling the connection. Was he still married? The rumor was that he was divorced. But with that ring still on his finger, he apparently hadn’t moved on. Not that I was able to do anything about it. We both drank our drinks in silence as a distance settled between us again. I didn’t understand what I might have done, but wanted to change it back. I attempted lighter conversation. “So, I hear you’re in Texas?”

  “Yes, temporarily. Though it’s been six months. I try to return to New York as often as possible to be with my family.” He averted his eyes, but this time I waited until I caught them before I started speaking again.

  “That’s good for you and your family. I used to travel often, but not much anymore.”

  Jonas motioned to the bartender to refill my drink, “Where have you traveled?”

  My eyes dilated. “I went with my parents to Sweden, France, Scotland, Finland, and Ireland, all when I was nineteen. I also studied in France and Germany when I was in college.”

  “They still in Quincy?” he asked politely.

  My eyes darted as I struggled to school my face. I was losing my composure in front of the man I was there to impress. Not now, I told myself. He merely asked a simple question. Where are they? “No. They…‌they’re not.”

  “Did I say something wrong?” Jonas asked. His voice deep, soothing.

  A lump formed in my throat, robbing me of speech.

  He touched my arm and the flare of connection was there as before, but also warmth radiating from his hand had me wishing he would keep it there. My need for contact almost overwhelmed me in that moment. I tried to reign in the desire as I answered hoarsely, “Not at all, it was just a passing thought.”

  “It seemed like more,” his tone softened, “or you wouldn’t look so sad now.” He reached out his hand and lifted my chin. I gazed up into his eyes as my pulse sped up once again.

  “They’re both gone,” I said and sucked in my breath. He moved his hand down the side of my face in a caress.

  “Saying sorry, isn’t enough really,” Jonas said quietly. “But I am.”

  I turned my head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Crane. I didn’t come here to talk about myself and my family.”

  “Jonas,” He corrected me. “And don’t apologize. Truth is, you are my first genuine conversation in a while, besides my family….”

  I nodded quickly. “Your wife and son. That’s….”

  “My ex-wife, Danielle, Dani and my son Paul. I guess I will be saying wife until she gets remarried, though,” he said with a lift in his tone. But the cloudiness in his eyes led me to believe I wasn’t alone in my pain. I reached out and took his hand and he squeezed it, then let go.

  “Sorry isn’t enough. But I am.” I repeated his words back to him. Our eyes locked on each other, as we stood there, neither one of us saying anything.

  “How about a change of subject?” I asked. “Could you tell me about your sketching?”

  Jonas smiled again and I smiled back in turn as it was infectious. “When I have time I sketch people. I studied briefly in college so I’m not an artist as such.”

  “I’m sure your sketches are amazing,” I said lifting my chin. “In fact, I bet a few galleries around here would be happy to have a few Crane originals in there.”

  “Sweet,” he said softly. “To be honest, I do have a few sketches out there, but under a pseudonym.” He took a sip of his scotch and shook his head. “Not many know that either. You seem to have a way of getting me to talk.”

  I ran my tongue over my bottom lip. “I was only making conversation. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  Jonas leaned in close, and my heart skipped a beat. “I know and that makes you dangerous.”

  My brows rose. “Dangerous?”

  “Dangerous and beaut‌—‌”

  “Lily!”

  My head snapped back as the sound of my name broke our spell. I found a man standing in front of us and realized it was Declan.

  What the hell was he doing here?

  I then remembered how Declan enjoyed the wine and dining at the “best of” in New York on the weekends. From the Gramercy Grill to the Peacock Alley, which was in this hotel. My brows lifted as my gaze went over his grey suit, something he never wore, not even to my parents’ funeral.

  Built like a Rugby player, Declan Gilroy was six-one, broad shoulders, with a large chest, arms, and legs. He had thinning, ginger frizzy hair that he combed over, giving it a wispy, feathering appearance. His angular face was covered with premature wrinkles that made him appear older than his twenty-nine years, with a crooked nose and bow lips.

  “Yes?” My voice came out rough. Jonas eyed him, but didn’t remove his hand from my arm.

  “Lily, what are you doing here?” His lips were curled as he took a peek at Jonas, who had moved closer, to the point of practically embracing me.

  My lips turned up. Territorial? The possibility of Jonas Crane being possessive of me set off pheromones, though m
y attention was now divided between him and my ex before me. “What do you want, Dec?”

  “Need to speak with you.” His tone was sharp, but he surprisingly didn’t try to remove me from Jonas.

  “Lily. Do you want to speak with him?” Jonas asked.

  I shook my head, as if to say no, but instead said, “I’ll be back.” Jonas let his fingers trail down my arm, creating a trail of goose bumps in their wake as he met Declan’s glare.

  “Okay. We’ll finish our conversation when you return.” He stressed “our” and that made me smile, despite the odd situation unfolding around me. I walked a few steps away and waited for Declan, who bared his teeth at Jonas before following me.

  As we moved away, Declan announced, “This is my fiancée.”

  “You’re engaged.” Jonas raised a brow.

  I jerked away from Declan. “That’s EX-fiancée,” I said, my voice slightly elevated.

  I didn’t get a chance to see Jonas’s face to confirm he registered my reply.

  Why it was important to me, I didn’t know. Nonetheless, I had Declan now before me after six months of silence. “What do you want, Dec?”

  His green eyes flashed at me. “Why are you being rude? I thought you Salomé’s were never rude,” Declan said with snark. “They strive for perfection, in all things.”

  My face fell. Declan had a way of unraveling me. He often mimicked my father on his Salomé third person speak. “I wasn’t being rude. I just don’t know what you want to discuss with me.”

  “I didn’t expect to see you out. You look different,” he said.

  I shrugged, but inside I danced. Nothing more satisfying than to look better than the last time you saw your ex. Thank you Dee and Natasha. “Yeah. I’d say the same about you,” I said politely.

  Declan smiled and moved closer to me. “I’m surprised you never called me. You don’t have any friends here.” He brushed his hands on my jaw line and down the side of my neck, which had, in the past, triggered a need for more. “You must be lonely.”