A Seductive Kiss

by Francis Ray

  Greg flipped through the pages, pausing briefly to study each design until he’d seen all seven. “There’s not enough for a collection.”

  “Then you think they have promise?” Dianne asked, moistening her lips.

  Greg came to his feet, his gaze direct. “Promise isn’t enough in this industry, and you know it as well as I do.”

  Dianne swallowed the rising fear. “I do, but I also know the industry is always looking for the next big thing.” She nodded to the sketch pad in his hand. “There’s a tremendous, untapped market for middle-class, full-figured women’s clothes and I intend to be the one to bring it to the forefront.”

  “Again, big words don’t cut it in this business.”

  “Dianne intends to back them up,” Alex said. “Her grandfather saw her talent when she helped with the original D line. She knew what young women wanted then, and she knows what women want now.”

  “How?” Greg asked. “That fool Boswell might have fired you because he said you were overweight, but you’re nowhere near full-figured size so you have no personal experience.”

  “Fool is putting it mildly,” Alex practically snarled.

  Dianne was surprised she didn’t feel the need to cry and tuck her head in embarrassment. The reason stood next to her. Alex had shown her she was more than a dress size. She wanted to show other women the same thing.

  “I might not be full-figured, but I know what it is to be judged because of your dress size, dismissed, made to feel worthless. From listening to women at the fashion show at the department store, many feel the same way when they walk into a store and can’t find their size—or if they do, the construction or design or fit isn’t what they’re looking for.”

  “Dianne’s clothes will change that.” Alex stared down at her, then looked at Greg. “She has the ideas, but she needs someone of your expertise and talent to help her dream come true. Every woman looking for that perfect dress will be able to make that a reality.”

  Greg grunted. “I can believe you’re a lawyer.”

  “Then you’re going to work with me?” Dianne asked.

  Greg opened the pad again to the first sketch. “Darts at the waist would make the sheath fit better. I’d do a scoop or square neck, and save the V for after five or evening. Some women might not mind the cleavage, but others might if they’re in the work place.”

  Her heart thumping, Dianne stepped beside him. “I see. What else?”

  “If the dress was black, we could pair it with a waterfall cardigan that stopped just below the hips.” He took a pen from the inside of his jacket, went to the dining room table, and began to sketch.

  Dianne glanced around for a pen and smiled at Alex when he handed her one. “Added to the collection could be a white/black cotton jersey top with black rose graphics on the front and on one shoulder in the back.”

  Greg nodded as Dianne drew the top in the corner of the page. “She would be set to leave work for a business trip to dress up or down.”

  “I first thought of white and black, but now I’m thinking yellow. Maybe a cropped cardigan or cargo jacket with a ruffled collar that she could toss in the suitcase or add on the day when the weather was uncertain,” Dianne murmured. “Or she needed a punch of color.”

  “Or just felt sassy,” Greg said.

  He and Dianne looked at each other and laughed. Slowly they straightened. Dianne’s smile faded as Greg’s smile disappeared. “You understand what I want to do, you understand design and what women want. I need you.”

  “If I take you up on your offer, I might miss signing with an established firm,” he reasoned.

  “But you could also be in the forefront of a new wave of designs for women of all shapes,” Dianne cajoled.

  “From what I just heard, you and Dianne make a great team.” Alex held out the contract. “You’ll get credit on all of the designs you do with Dianne.”

  “I don’t want to be tied down,” Greg murmured.

  “I understand. I’ll show you out.” Alex tossed the contract on the table. “Thank you for coming, but obviously you aren’t right for this position. Dianne needs, deserves someone who is fully committed to the company, not someone waiting for something better to come along.”

  Greg looked as uncertain as Dianne felt. She might have wanted Alex to try harder to persuade Greg, but she realized he was right. Whoever she hired to work with her as a designer had to be fully committed. “If you hear of anyone else, please ask them to contact me.”

  “I’ll see you out.” Alex lightly took Greg’s arm and steered the still-silent man toward the front door. “I know I don’t have to remind you of the noncompete clause and nondisclosure agreements you signed.”

  “Grandfather trusted you completely. I know we can also.” Dianne stopped by the front door. “Thank you again for coming. Good luck.”

  “Thank you for coming.” Alex opened the door and stuck out his hand. “Good night.”

  Greg frowned, looked from Alex’s hand to Dianne. “I didn’t say I didn’t want the position.”

  Excitement rushed through Dianne, but before she could say anything, Alex slipped his hand into his pocket and said, “You didn’t say you did, either.”

  “Lawyers.” The way Greg said the word, it wasn’t a compliment.

  Alex said nothing.

  Dianne wanted to ask Greg if he was taking the job, but she would follow Alex’s lead. She clamped her teeth together to keep from blurting out the question.

  “Close the door. Where’s the contract?”

  Dianne made a motion to hug Greg, but Alex caught her arm. She and Greg stared at him.

  “Only if we have your complete devotion to the firm,” Alex said. “Just killing time won’t do it.”

  “I—”

  “Greg wouldn’t do that.” Dianne cut the outraged man off and faced Alex. “I trust him completely.”

  Alex closed the door and stuck out his hand. “Dianne’s faith in you is enough. I trust she won’t regret it.”

  Greg took his hand. “If she does, I guess I’ll hear from you.”

  The handshake was firm. “No guess about it,” Alex told him.

  Alex was looking out for her again. She wanted to kiss him, then take him to bed. Later. “After we sign the contract, let’s have a toast.”

  Seemingly mollified, Greg followed Dianne to Alex’s office. Picking up the contract, she handed him a pen. He signed his name with a flourish.

  “I’ll get those drinks.” Alex moved to the bar in a corner of the office.

  Grinning, Dianne stuck out her hand. “Welcome to D and A of New York.”

  * * *

  “You were brilliant,” Dianne said after Greg had left.

  Smiling indulgently, Alex curved his arms around her. “You shouldn’t have had that second glass of wine.”

  She kissed his chin. “I’ll have you know I can handle more than a couple of glasses of wine. And great wine it was, too.” She backed away, twirled, and came back to him. “I’m just happy.” Her smile trembled then firmed. “You made that happen.”

  “We’re partners.” He hoped for a lifetime.

  “Damn straight.” She chuckled, took a deep breath and blew it out. “D and A of New York.” She shook her head. “My stomach gets all jittery when I say it.”

  He kissed her nose. “After fifteen or twenty years the feeling will lessen.”

  “You are the most amazing man.”

  He frowned. He wasn’t sure why her words bothered him. “I’m just a man.”

  She shook her head. “There’s nothing ‘just’ about you. You’re a true friend.”

  He knew why her earlier words bothered him. He was still the friend/lover. He stepped away from her. “You probably want to work on your designs, I’ll go clean up the kitchen.” He turned away from the frown on her face.

  In the kitchen, Alex started stacking dishes. He had little regard for the Waterford fine china, crystal, or flatware. They clanked, clicked, and pinged as
he dumped the food and began rinsing them. Dianne was giving all she could. It wasn’t her fault he loved her and she was grateful.

  He just had to be patient and control the fear that one day she’d walk away and leave him. Helping her gain financial independence was risky, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Dianne needed to see her worth, to know she could be successful.

  “Alex.”

  “Yeah,” he answered, keeping his back to her, trying to regroup and stop feeling as if, even now, she was slipping away.

  “I wanted to ask your opinion on a design.”

  “Sure.” Dependable Alex. Closing the door of the dishwasher, he dried his hands on a paper towel and turned—and forgot to breathe.

  Dianne stood in the doorway in a sheer white short top that stopped just below her breasts and bikini panties.

  “I know we should concentrate on day and evening wear initially, but I was thinking that every woman needs lingerie.” She presented her back to him, glancing provocatively over her shoulder, giving him another air-stealing glimpse of her smooth back, the rounded curves of her hips he recalled too clearly holding as he pumped into her satin heat.

  “Well,” she prompted, facing him. “Personally, I like the white lace.” She touched the little black bows at the hips. “Alex, you aren’t helping.”

  “I—”

  “Alex, this is your company, too.”

  He might have taken exception to her reference to the company if his gaze hadn’t been snagged by the dusky nipples pushing against the lace. It was difficult for a man to think when all of his blood was below his waist.

  “Alex?”

  “You’re the most desirable woman I’ve ever seen.”

  Her eyes closed.

  “What?” He closed the distance between them, pulling her to him. “Are you all right?”

  Her head lifted. Her trembling hands rested on his chest. “I thought—I thought you might be thinking of sending me back to the guest bedroom.”

  “I probably should, but I want every moment I can have with you,” he told her. From the way his erection was nudging her, she knew that already.

  “Good, because I feel the same way.” Her hands went to the buttons of his shirt. “Being in your arms, making love with you is the best part of my day. It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” She licked a brown nipple. “The most enjoyable.”

  “Dianne.”

  She turned to the other nipple. “No one has ever said my name the way you do, with such need.”

  He groaned as her hand cupped him. “Honey.”

  “You probably have no idea how loving you has changed my life. You gave me every dream I ever dreamed.” She unbuckled his belt, unhooked his pants. “Tonight I’m going to show you.”

  With his last fading strength, he caught her hand. “Bed,” he managed.

  “I can’t wait that long.”

  His heart nearly stopped. She pushed off his shirt, his pants, and his briefs. His erection sprang hungry and free. Her hand cupped him, ran the length of him, over the broad tip. His legs trembled. He plopped into a chair.

  She grinned. Actually grinned because she had him holding it together by a thread.

  His ragged breath caught as she knelt, her mouth inches from him, and pulled off his shoes and socks. He stared down at her as she stared up at him, and then she lowered her head and took him in her mouth.

  He bucked, sucked in air, and grabbed the arms of the chair. He didn’t trust himself to touch her. The need pulsing though him was too wild and strong.

  She was killing him, driving him closer to the point of no return. She left him and he cried out, then felt her hands sliding down the length of him. Condom. Standing, she straddled him, her mouth fastening to him.

  The skimpy wisp of lace was no match for his greedy hands and hard length. With one thrust, he slid into her hot sheath, felt her clench around him. Pleasure shook him, almost taking him over. He resisted. This was for her.

  His hands palmed her hips as he thrust into her again and again. He tried, he really did, but somehow control snapped and he lost himself in her white-hot heat. Her back bowed, giving him free access to her taut nipple. He pulled the turgid point into his mouth, suckled, teased, pleased beyond measure.

  Sensation rippled though her as she gave herself up willingly to him. She hadn’t known pleasure could be so intense. She had just wanted him to know how much he meant to her without the words. In his fashion, he had given her so much more.

  He rocked against her, sending her careening toward completion. Her thoughts splintered as he pumped faster, stroked deeper and quicker. She wanted the sensations to go on, but felt her body tense just as release shook her, wrung a cry from her as he went over with her. His arms tightened, then his hands swept down her damp back as aftershocks shook her.

  She felt boneless, sated. Finally she was able to lift her head. She stared into Alex’s eyes, a bit dazed, and felt proud. She was good at something.

  “You’re very pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”

  “Aren’t you?” she asked, feeling as if she could conquer the world as long as this man was by her side.

  He grinned, kissed her long and hot and deep. He came to his feet, swayed, clamped his arms tighter around her, and started for the bedroom. “I’ll tell you in a couple of hours or maybe in the morning.”

  * * *

  “You’re looking awfully smug this morning,” Sin said.

  Alex’s grin widened. “Your grandfather was right about not looking back.”

  Folding his arms, Sin stretched his long legs out in front of him. “Dianne.”

  “She’s the whole package.” Alex leaned forward in his chair behind his desk. “But you’re not here this early to listen to me. What’s up?”

  “I want you to promise me something.”

  Alex leaned forward at Sin’s serious tone. “Sure. What is it?”

  “Something I prayed I’d never have to consider,” he said, then went on to explain.

  Less than five minutes later, Alex fought with the sadness, the shock. “I—”

  “Promise me,” Sin said, cutting him off.

  Alex swallowed. “I promise.”

  * * *

  Dianne felt energized, ready to meet the world during the days that followed as their designs slowly came to life. The feeling didn’t wear off as she and Greg worked at the studio Alex had found for them. Selecting the right fabric had taken time, but the finished products were well worth the effort. She stared at the black sheath on the dress form, the black-and-white jacket, and felt a rush of pride.

  She had helped envision this and made it a reality. She threw one arm around Greg and the other around Alex. “We did it.”

  “You and Greg did it,” Alex said.

  Dianne bumped him with her hip. “None of that. We’re partners. Who found us a place to work, furnishings?”

  “It was better than the kitchen table.”

  They laughed.

  “It’s a good thing I brought my camera.” Alex pulled the small Nikon from his pocket.

  Dianne plucked it from his hand. “We’ll get someone else to take the picture.” Not waiting for an answer, she went into the hallway, spotted a deliveryman, and asked for his assistance. He was only too happy to take the picture.

  “Thank you,” Dianne said, taking the camera and showing the man out. Closing the door, she looped her arms through Alex’s and Greg’s. “Gentleman, D and A of New York is open for business.”

  Chapter 13

  It was done. Dianne allowed her proud gaze then her trembling hand to touch each piece—fourteen in all to mix and match, dress up or dress down. The clothes were a great beginning, but they were just that: a beginning. Now came the difficult part.

  “We need to find a buyer.”

  Dianne glanced at Greg, standing beside her. His face reflected the worry she’d tried to keep at bay, but it just circled and kept coming back. “We will. I plan to start calling to
day while you keep on working on finishing the line.”

  “You know it won’t be easy breaking through,” he said, folding his arms.

  “The clothes are beautiful. We worked our collective butts off,” she said.

  “Too bad that doesn’t always count.”

  She knew he was talking about being fired. “We all agree that Boswell is a fool. He made a mistake when he fired us, and we’re going to show him.”

  “Damn straight.” He held up his hand and gave Dianne a high five. “I’ll get to work. By the time you find a buyer, we’ll have sketches and material swatches for the other pieces.”

  Dianne watched Greg walk away, then she went to the small desk. She’d met a lot of buyers as “The Face.” She had contacts. Picking up the phone, she began making calls. First on the list was Janice Olson, women’s fashion buyer for an upscale department store.

  “Hi, Jan Olson.”

  “Hello, Jan. It’s Dianne Harrington. How are you?”

  There was a slight pause. “Fine.”

  Dianne heard the wariness and noted that Jan, who had once almost fawned over Dianne, hadn’t inquired about her. “Great. I’m calling because I’ve started my own fashion line for full-figured women. The clothes are absolutely beautiful. Greg Dickerson is working with me. I’d love for you to come by the studio and take a look.”

  “Sorry. We have all we need. Bye.”

  Dianne’s hand flexed on the cell phone. She glanced at the clothes on the rolling rack and punched in another number. She wasn’t giving up.

  * * *

  Alex saw it in her face the instant she entered their apartment. The disappointment. The worry. He pulled her into his arms, his hand sweeping from her waist to her shoulders. “Hard day?”

  He felt her warm breath on his chest though his shirt. “They won’t even consider looking at the collection.”

  “You and Greg worked so hard.”

  “I can’t believe it was for nothing.”

  His hand moved beneath her chin to tilt her face upward. “It isn’t.”

  “So why does it feel that way?” She pushed out of his arms and took a seat on the sofa.