Chocolate Kisses

by Francis Ray

  He sat back down on the side of the bed and took her hand. “I’m available after eleven to take you to the airport, or I can put a driver at your service.”

  She hugged him, almost upsetting the tray. He couldn’t have said anything more right. “I can manage.”

  “Your fall/winter show is going to make heads turn in the fashion industry.” He set her away. “Eat every bite before you start on what promises to be a hectic day. Let me know if you have to leave.”

  “I will.” Her hand gently touched his cheek. “Have a good day.”

  He kissed her palm, then her lips. “You too.” Standing, he was gone.

  Miranda had never felt less like eating, but she picked up the fork to please Lucian. She’d give him all she could, but there was one thing she couldn’t, and that was forever.

  Lucian gave the cabdriver his address and sat back to stare out the window. So it had begun already. He didn’t mind the fact that Miranda’s work took her away from him. He was truly proud of her accomplishments. What bothered him was not knowing whether she’d come back.

  Sighing, he leaned back heavily against the seat. The odds weren’t exactly in his favor, but he had no intention of being anything but supportive. Somehow he’d show her that she could have a successful career and a man who loved her.

  Thank goodness Simone had a fax machine, Miranda thought. Moments after her design had reached her office in New York, the phone rang. Every one of her staff loved the gown and couldn’t wait to start. There were several companies where they could look for the right material, but the consensus was that the best place to start was Italy.

  Miranda hesitated, knowing the only reason she did was Lucian. “Make the arrangements. I’ll go by the Dallas Market Center in Dallas today and, if nothing catches my eye, I’ll fly back to New York tonight. You search our usual sources there. We’ll compare notes, and if nothing flies I’ll be on the earliest flight to Italy.”

  “I’ll call you back with your itinerary,” Melody, her assistant, told her.

  “Thank you. See you all tomorrow at nine.” Miranda hung up the phone, unable to keep the misery at bay. It didn’t seem fair that the moment she and Lucian became lovers again, she’d have to leave. But the world wasn’t fair. Another hard truth she’d learned growing up.

  “Mr. Faulkner, Ms. Collins to see you.”

  “Please send her in.” Lucian replaced the phone in the receiver, then came around the desk. He’d been waiting for a phone call all day. Her coming didn’t bode well. He was halfway across his office when Miranda opened the door. She didn’t have to say a word. Her expression told him what he’d feared.

  “What time is your flight?”

  “Nine,” she said warily, watching him.

  He stopped inches from her, wanting so badly to take her in his arms. “When will you be back?”

  She bit her lower lip. “I’m not sure. My assistant may have located the fabric, but I’ll have to see it first. If it’s not what I want, I plan to go to Italy as soon as I can get a flight out.”

  “Italy!”

  “Imported silks are often the best. Then I’ve been thinking of a special weave for the hem and cuffs,” she finally said.

  His hands circled her upper arms. “If we didn’t import ingredients from all over the world I’d think you were out of your mind.” His forehead touched hers. “I know you have to go, but I don’t like it.”

  “Neither do I.” Placing her hands on his chest, she lifted her head. “Any idea what we can do in the four and a half hours we have left?” she asked, letting her body sink seductively against his.

  “Plenty,” he rasped, his breath hot against her ear. Straightening, he caught her hand and left his office. “LaWanna, I’m taking the rest of the day off and going home. Unless there’s an extreme emergency that Devin can’t handle, I don’t wish to be disturbed.”

  “Since Devin would say there is no such thing, please enjoy your day,” LaWanna said with a smile.

  “I plan to.” His arm circling Miranda’s waist, they were out the door.

  The second they entered the house he’d picked her up and carried her to his bedroom. They raced to get undressed. Lucian finished first. Kneeling in front of Miranda he peeled off her thong, his hot mouth following its downward descent. He kissed the arch of each delicate foot, behind her knees, her quivering stomach, and then came up on the bed on top of her.

  “There is no place on you that isn’t sweet and addictive.”

  “The same goes.” She pushed against his chest until he lay on his back. She straddled him. His breath hissed between his teeth as her woman’s softness grazed his groin. Smiling like a siren, she darted her tongue across his turgid nipples, his broad chest, his quaking stomach.

  With a fierce growl Lucian came off the bed and brought them together. Miranda cried out in pleasure and wrapped her legs around him. She met and matched the fast tempo he set. Their mind-blowing release came together. It was a long time before either of them was able to speak.

  “I love your house, what little I saw of it,” Miranda said, facing Lucian as she lay against him in his king-size bed, the gray silk sheets draped over her breasts. From the floor-to-ceiling windows she’d briefly been able to see teak furniture on the extensive terrace, the edge of the pool, and huge pots overflowing with flowers.

  His hand lazily stroked her bare back, then over her hips before moving up again. “I was in a bit of a hurry. When you come back you can explore to your heart’s content.”

  Smiling impishly up at him, she circled his neck. “Why can’t I do it now?”

  “Because you’re going to be much too busy.” His mouth and body covered her.

  Her cell phone rang with a familiar ring tone. She tensed.

  “Leave it.” He nuzzled her neck.

  “I can’t.” She pushed lightly against him to sit up. “It’s my mother.”

  Frowning, he straightened, looked around the room for her purse, then retrieved it for her.

  “Thank you.” She dug inside for her ringing phone.

  “I hope I can say ‘you’re welcome’ when you’re finished.”

  So did she. “Hello, Mother.”

  “What took you so long? Where have you been? I’ve been calling the house all day,” her mother complained.

  Miranda threw a glance at Lucian. “I was out searching for fabric for my new design. It’s going to be sensational.”

  “That’s good, Miranda. The architect says the vaulted ceiling I want will cost an extra ten thousand dollars. I told him to go ahead. That was all right, wasn’t it?”

  It shouldn’t have hurt that her mother was more interested in her renovations than her daughter’s career. “That’s fine, Mother. I’ll put the check in the mail tomorrow. I may have to go out of the country for a few days.”

  “Where? Perhaps you could look for something for the house.”

  Miranda fingertips rubbed her suddenly throbbing temple, then almost jumped when she felt Lucian’s hand massaging her tense neck and shoulders. “I-Italy?”

  “Excellent. You could pick up a statue for the gardens.”

  “I’ll try. Mother, I have to go.”

  “All right. Don’t forget my statue.”

  “You know I will if I can. Good-bye.” She deactivated the phone and kept her back to Lucian. As close as he was he’d heard most of the conversation. His parents were nothing like hers. She’d gone to his graduation and seen his family. There were at least fifty of them, and all of them had been smiling and congratulating Lucian. At her own graduation there had been only her mother. “I have to go.”

  Lucian continued massaging her shoulders as if he hadn’t heard her. “I’ve been thinking about the new chocolates, and I wanted to run an idea by you, if you have time.”

  It would be rude and selfish not to listen. “All right.”

  “We are known for having premier chocolates, so trying to improve on perfection will be tough. But I finally figured out
a way, and I have you to thank.”

  Forgetting her embarrassment, she twisted toward him. “Me?”

  His expression was so tender it brought tears to her eyes. “You. You’re a rare woman. A woman who takes the hard knocks life has dealt her and doesn’t complain; she just works harder to make her dream come true.” His mouth quirked.

  “Then there’s your exquisite taste that, like chocolates, I can’t get enough of. The handmade haute-couture collection of twenty-nine pieces, your age, of chocolate truffles in unique flavors will be called M, and come in a limited-edition wooden box with a swan charm hanging from the gold closure. Like you, they’ll be rare, dazzling, and luscious.”

  She was stunned and deeply touched. Nothing could have pleased or scared her more. Tears crested her eyes.

  His eyes widened in alarm. “Please tell me you aren’t getting ready to brush me off again.”

  She sniffed. “You make me feel . . . I’m just happy.”

  Trembling arms drew her to him. “Do you think that from now on you can be happy without the tears?”

  She brushed the moisture away from her eyes and smiled up at him. “I’ll try.”

  “Good.” His mouth took hers and they tumbled back on the bed.

  Lucian had kept an eye on the clock to ensure that there was time for a quick dinner before taking Miranda to the airport. He walked with her in the security line. “Why do I get the feeling that I may be losing you again?” he asked when he was standing with her several feet from the baggage check.

  ”I’m coming back.”

  And then what? he wanted to ask, but was afraid of the answer. “I don’t like you getting in so late.”

  She smiled. “A car will be waiting. I’m a Brooklyn girl. I can take care of myself.”

  “Call me just the same when you land, when you meet your driver, and when you reach your place,” he instructed.

  She grinned. “My mother doesn’t worry this much.”

  He saw the smile disappear the moment she realized what she’d said. Her mother had a great deal to answer for. “Because she knows she taught you to be self-sufficient. On the other hand, I’m a Texan, and we’re overprotective of the women we care about. Call.”

  This time the smile wasn’t as bright, but it was there. “I will. I think you’re running out of rope.”

  Her line was about to curve. “Come back to me,” he said, and kissed her, unmindful of the people watching. “Travel safely.”

  “Good-bye, Lucian.”

  Lucian watched her until she went through the security checkpoint; then he could have kicked himself when he realized he didn’t have her cell number. He berated himself as he made his way out of the airport. Just as he was getting in his SUV, his cell phone rang.

  He grinned on seeing OUT OF AREA. “Hello, beautiful.”

  “Those words had better be for me,” Miranda said.

  “Out-of-area gave you away. Please give me your cell number,” he said, opening the glove compartment for a pen.

  She gave him the number, as well as that of her office and home in Manhattan. “They’re boarding. Lucian, I . . .”

  His grip on the phone tightened. “Yes?”

  “Nothing. I’ll see you when I get back. Good-bye.”

  “Good-bye, honey.” He placed the phone back in his jacket. It was going to be a long, lonely night.

  Miranda’s hand glided across the black velvet, the black ranch mink, the red silk, and in her mind she saw the design truly come to life. “The fur will edge the cape’s hood and sleeves. I’ve decided against the red lining.”

  There were murmurs of agreement from around the table, where her staff sat. She’d had the idea after dreaming about Lucian and thinking how soft and touchable his hair was.

  “Looks like you won’t have to go to Italy,” her assistant said, then smiled. “Although I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

  “It is for me.” Miranda picked up the large sketch. “I want the material here in two hours, even if someone has to go pick it up. We start on this today.”

  Everyone stood. It was her pattern maker who asked, “Are you staying until it’s completed?”

  If they made the gown top priority it would still take at least three days. “Yes,” she answered, although she wished it could be different. That knowledge scared her as everyone filed out of the room. Wanting, needing Lucian was asking to be hurt. She knew that. She was just having difficulty convincing her heart.

  “I have good news and bad news, Lucian,” Miranda said a short while later when she telephoned from her office. “The fabric is perfect, but I’ve decided to stay until the design is finished.”

  A long sigh drifted though the phone. “It’s tough being the boss.”

  “Is there a problem there?”

  “Just had a meeting with my pastry chef. He can’t get the exotic flavors I wanted for the M collection until next week. I’d hoped we’d be able to sample some of the chocolates this weekend.”

  “That would have been nice.” She propped her arms on the desk. “I’ll be here through the weekend.”

  “Any objection to having a houseguest?” he asked.

  Her heart raced. She was tempted, but it was too dicey with her mother living so close to her. “Luc—” There was an abrupt knock on her door. “Hold on. There’s someone at the door,” she said, knowing she was intentionally putting off telling Lucian no. Her rejection would hurt him just as it was already hurting her. “Come in.”

  The door opened and her assistant came in. “I just got off the phone with Elizabeth Bass. She insists on having a private showing at her home tomorrow night. She has dignitaries from London visiting her. They wanted to see your designs, but have to fly out Saturday morning. She promised she could get you to preview a few pieces from your upcoming trunk show next weekend.”

  Miranda’s eyes widened in alarm. Elizabeth Bass was one of the most powerful socialites in New York. It was her patronage that had plucked Miranda from obscurity. Her displeasure could also send her plummeting back.

  “There’s no way,” Miranda cried, telling her assistant what she already knew. “I’m modeling two of the designs, but the other models are booked. I promised LaMier’s an exclusive showing.”

  “She wants you to call her. Sorry.” The door closed softly behind the assistant.

  Miranda lifted her hand to massage her temple, then realized Lucian was still holding. “Lucian, I have to go.”

  “I heard everything, and I think I know a way to help.”

  “Lucian, I appreciate your interest, but you know nothing about fashion. I can handle this.”

  “I wanted to help you in college, and you told me the same thing. This time don’t turn your back on me. Let me help.”

  “This could ruin me,” she said softly.

  “I won’t let it,” he said fiercely. “Let me help.”

  Standing, she went to the window and stared out at the Hudson River. Peering south she could see downtown Manhattan. She’d worked too hard, sacrificed too much to give up without a fight. “I appreciate your help, but I can take care of this myself. Good-bye.” Hoping she was right, she hung up the phone.

  Chapter Seven

  LUCIAN DIDN’T LIKE DECEPTION, but in this case he’d had no choice. Sitting at his desk, he waited for the phone to ring. Miranda’s future and possibly his with her hinged on the outcome of the call to the CEO of LaMier’s. Miranda probably wouldn’t have gone for the plan he had in mind if he’d told her, but it still smarted that she wouldn’t even listen. He’d help her with or without her consent.

  His fingers drummed impatiently on the polished cherry surface. He’d had a lot of experience dealing with men and women who could give the devil pointers on being vicious if crossed. He wasn’t personally acquainted with Elizabeth Bass, but, from the fear he’d heard in Miranda’s voice, he suspected she was in that group.

  After Elizabeth boasted to her friends, she wasn’t about to admit she couldn’t del
iver. Miranda would be the scapegoat. There was no way he intended to let that happen.

  The phone rang. Lucian pounced on it before the sounded ended. “Yes?”

  “Lucian, I have Mr. Carter, the CEO of LaMier’s, on line one,” LaWanna told him.

  “Thank you.” Lucian pressed the blinking button. “Good evening, Mr. Carter. Thank you for taking my call while on vacation.”

  “I was told it was urgent,” he said, his voice as clear as if he were in the next room instead of in Geneva.

  “It is to both of us. For the past ten years you’ve allowed A Chocolate Affair to be the exclusive chocolate you’ve carried. For that, we are deeply grateful.”

  “So grateful that you tracked me down on vacation to tell me?”

  So he was smart, but Lucian hadn’t expected otherwise. “In a way. I’d like to talk to you about a way to keep one of your best customers happy, help a talented and dedicated designer, and make the trunk show next weekend at your store the talk of the fashion industry.”

  “I’m listening.”

  It took Lucian an hour to iron out all the details with Carter. The man was crafty and had pushed hard for every possible advantage. Lucian had balked, as any good trader might, but he would have given much more to help Miranda.

  He picked up the phone as it rang again. “Yes, LaWanna?”

  “The cab is waiting to take you to the airport, and Sandy is here with your bag.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be right out.” He strode out of the office to find not only his housekeeper, but his brother. “Thanks, Sandy.” He reached for the overnight bag and the handled A Chocolate Affair shopping bag beside it. “Devin, I need to fly to New York. I’ll be back sometime tomorrow. I’ll call when I’m in the air. We have to prepare a chocolate party for a trunk show at LaMier’s in New York next Friday afternoon.”