by Selena Kitt
“You can bet I won’t.” Deciding I should get back to work, and happy to put an end to this awkward conversation, I took a step away.
Marguerite caught my elbow. “Just one question.”
I swiveled to face her. “Sure.”
“I see the way you look at him. Why didn’t you keep him for yourself?”
A pang of emotion ripped through my belly. Was it that obvious? Was I staring at him all doe-eyed like a silly little girl? “For the same reason I don’t keep any of them for myself. I don’t need a man in my life right now. It’s too complicated as it is.”
My boss shook her head and strolled away.
Evidently, she wasn’t buying my explanation.
Thankfully, my paycheck didn’t depend upon it.
* * * *
Three hours later, things were wrapping up and I was ready to call it a night. I’d played referee a few times, heading off fights between the girls before anything got too hairy. Thanks to the new girls we’d brought in, who happened to be the ones causing all the trouble, I’d been fairly busy for most of the event. But that didn’t stop me from catching a glimpse of Tevin every few minutes or so. And every time I looked at him, and saw him flashing one of those traffic-stopping smiles at another girl, it felt like someone had jabbed a hot poker into my belly.
Dammit, I really needed to get over this thing I had for him.
As the night wore on, I could see he was enjoying himself. More directly, he was enjoying the attention Josephine, Alexis, and Katarina were lavishing on him. He laughed at what they said. He flirted with them. He complimented them. He made them all feel special.
Just like he had me.
After seeing him tonight, I now knew I was no one special to him. I was just another woman he liked to flirt with. Another woman to feed his ego.
When Marguerite rang her little bell and told the men it was time for them to pick one special girl to visit with for the rest of the evening, he had no trouble choosing one. He picked Alexis. Off they went, to the bar across the street, to become better acquainted while Marguerite and I thanked the remaining girls who hadn’t been selected by any of the guys and let them know about next week’s events.
An hour later, after I cleaned up, I was weary, and ready to go home. My plans: turn on the TV and watch every TiVo’d episode of my favorite reality shows until I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I trudged out to my car, dumped my purse into the passenger seat, and buckled myself in.
As I drove home I blared the radio. It was a silly, futile effort to drown out my thoughts. And it didn’t work. By the time I shoved the gearshift into park in my building’s parking lot, I felt a little sick. Images of Tevin smiling at those perfect bitches kept playing through my head, over and over.
Couldn’t he see past the fake smiles and fresh-from-the salon hair? Those girls wanted their names on his bank account and his ring on their finger. Nothing more.
Suddenly, I absolutely despised my job.
It wasn’t the best job in the world. It was the worst. I was playing people like pawns in a stupid game. Making promises I couldn’t keep. Promising a fantasy that would never be real.
If I could have, I would have quit.
I snatched up my purse and stomped inside my apartment. Sasha was out on a date with some guy she’d met online. Left to my own devices, I drowned my sorrow in Southern Comfort and vanilla ice cream. By the third bowl, I was feeling a little better. At least I wasn’t ready to call Marguerite and tell her to take her crappy job and shove it.
I crashed on the couch, watching reruns of Big Bang Theory.
The next morning I felt like road kill.
I closed my eyes and went back to sleep.
When I woke up again at noon I wasn’t feeling much better. Ugh.
Today I had a date.
With Tevin.
The thought of seeing him made my insides ache.
Would he cancel? God, I hoped so. At my current state, that would be a good thing. A heavy beat pounded in my skull if I moved too fast, and my stomach did a flip every time I even thought about eating.
I stumbled into the kitchen, dug out a bottle of water, grabbed a few aspirins and, after swallowing the pills, dragged myself to the bathroom to take a shower. God help me if Tevin decided we needed to fly somewhere for this date, too.
I felt a tiny bit more human after steaming and soaping and shaving and lathering myself until the hot water ran out. I toweled off and pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt and hazarded a trip to the kitchen for the first meal of the day.
I stared into my refrigerator for a while before deciding on toast and soup. Carbs and fluids. Those would hopefully do the trick. Once I’d consumed all my rumbly, irritable stomach would allow, I grabbed my purse to hunt down my phone to check for messages.
I dug to the bottom of my bag. No phone. Had I lost it? Did I leave it in my car?
Risking my head exploding upon being subjected to bright sunlight, I donned sunglasses and barefooted out to the car. I found my phone on the floor, along with an envelope. The envelope was pink, like a greeting card envelope.
Weird.
I scanned my phone for new messages as I headed back inside. I didn’t open the envelope until I was sitting down.
It was a greeting card. On the outside was an old man holding a fishing pole. Inside it said, “People tell me there's plenty of fish in the sea. But who wants to date a fish?”
It was signed, Tevin.
Below his signature, he’d written, “Looking forward to tomorrow. Get plenty of sleep. You’ll need it.”
My insides got all warm and mushy.
A silly card. He’d given me a silly card. After having spent the evening being chased by over ten beautiful, perfect women.
He still wanted to go out with me. Me! I was ready to shout it out to the whole world.
I reread his message again and again.
Then again, there was nothing overly romantic about what he’d written. But it was the thought that he’d put into buying the card, and putting it in my car that made it so special. But, clearly, he’d purchased the card before last night’s mixer. Had he put it in my car before or after his mini date with Alexis? Now that he had at least three very attractive women waiting for him to call them, was he still interested in me?
Probably not.
Oh hell, I needed to stop overanalyzing this. So he bought a card. So what? Lots of people bought cards. It was a quick and easy way to just say, see you tomorrow.
I slid the card back in its envelope and put it in a safe place. Then, to keep busy, I turned on some music and tidied my living room, kitchen and bedroom, just in case he came in to visit for a few minutes. At about five o’clock I started getting myself ready for the big date.
By ten to six, I was ready to go. And horrifically nervous. I wasn’t sure what to expect. If he’d found someone more interesting than me at last night’s mixer, he might act differently toward me now.
That would be a good thing.
Good for my career.
When the doorbell chimed, I was standing next to the door, wringing my hands and trying to concentrate on breathing. I was breathing, but too fast. My palms were sweaty. I felt a little sick to my stomach.
I peered through the peephole.
He hadn’t sent a driver this time.
I opened the door, and his hand swooped out from behind his back. In it was a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. “Hello,” he said, displaying that same smile that had haunted my dreams last night. He handed me the flowers.
“Wow, they’re gorgeous. Thank you.” I stepped aside. “Do we have time to put these in water?”
“Sure.” He followed me as I hurried into the kitchen to dig up a vase. That wasn’t something I used often. I didn’t buy myself flowers, and I couldn’t remember the last time a man had given me any either.
“I found your card this morning. It was cute,” I said with my head buried in one of my kitchen cabinets.
>
“Glad you liked it.”
“I did.” Grabbing a glass pitcher--it was the best I could come up with--I extracted myself from the cabinet and stood. “It looked like you enjoyed the mixer last night.”
Looking unenthusiastic, he shrugged. No doubt, it was an act. “It was okay.”
“Okay. Really? Only okay?” I flipped on the water to fill the pitcher.
“Yes, okay.” Watching me, he leaned a hip against my kitchen counter.
“It looked like you were having more fun than that to me.”
His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Were you…jealous?”
“No.” I pulled the cellophane wrapper off the flower bouquet. The stems were wound in a rubber band. I started unwinding it.
“Really? Not at all?”
“Not at all. Why should I be jealous?” Getting impatient, I grabbed a knife from the drawer and sliced the rubber band. As the blade cut through the rubber, it nicked my thumb. I winced, dropped the blade, and lunged for a paper towel.
He grabbed for me as if I’d just sliced my arm off with a machete. “You cut yourself.” He caught my hand to inspect the life-threatening injury.
“It’s just a little scratch. I’ll be fine.” Pulling my hand from his, I turned on the tap and stuck my bleeding appendage under the water. “As you’ll recall, I was the one who approached you about becoming a Premier member. My goal is to find you the woman of your dreams, your future wife. I can’t be jealous.”
“Yes, so you’ve said.” He took my hand in his again. With a free hand, he grabbed a fresh paper towel and patted my hand dry. I tried to ignore the sensations pulsing through my body at his gentle touch and focused attention.
Gosh damn it, why did he have to be so sexy and sweet and attentive? Why?
Once again, I pulled my hand free. “It’s fine. Just a little scratch.” Trying to pretend I wasn’t getting warm all over, I found the box of bandages I kept in a cabinet and flipped open the lid.
“You keep bandages in your kitchen?”
“I…yes.” I swear my cheeks were burning so hot they were about to blister.
“If I’d known you were prone to cutting yourself, I would have done that for you.” He jerked his head toward the flowers.
“I’m fine.” I oozed on some antibiotic ointment and glued on the bandage. “Good as new. See? Now, should we get going?” I scooped up the flowers and dropped them in my makeshift vase.
“Sure.”
“Thank you again for the flowers,” I said as I fiddled with the arrangement before grabbing my purse. “They really are beautiful.”
“Glad you like them.” Placing a hand on the small of my back, he escorted me outside, into an unseasonably crisp early evening. “It’s a little chilly,” he said as we strolled down the sidewalk toward his parked car. “Are you warm enough?”
“I’m fine.” Actually, thanks to his lingering touch on my back, and the heat of his earlier attention to my cut finger, I was quite warm. I sank into a leather seat that felt as if it had been molded to fit my body perfectly. Once I was settled, he rounded the front of the sleek black car and folded his frame into his seat. And within minutes the vehicle was prowling the streets, carrying me off toward the west, toward an unknown destination.
“Are we flying in an airplane on this date?” I asked, trying to sound casual but failing.
“You didn’t enjoy the flight.” His lips curled into a half-smile that did all kinds of strange and exciting things to my insides.
“No, I didn’t. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. To answer your question, no, there will be no flight tonight.”
“Thank goodness.”
His laugh was low and rumbly and sexy. “I’m sorry if it was such an unpleasant experience. I’ll keep your aversion to flying in mind for the future.”
For the future? What future was that? We weren’t going to have a future—beyond my working to help him find the future Mrs. Tevin Page. “It wasn’t my favorite part of the night.”
He slanted one brow. “What was?”
I could answer that question easily. Could, but wouldn’t. My favorite part was the walk on the beach. Specifically, my favorite part was that incredible kiss. What a kiss that had been.
I said, “The food was delicious.”
“The food?” he echoed, his voice flat.
“Yes. What did you think I would say?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I kind of got the impression you enjoyed some other things more than the food. In fact, as I recall, you didn’t eat much at all.”
“Well, that was because of the flight. The food was really good, and different from anything I’d ever tasted before.”
“Interesting.” After a beat, he added, “I hope you’ll find something a whole lot more enjoyable tonight than a few bites of beans.” He slanted a wicked grin my way that made my insides simmer. “My pride is at stake here.”
There was a whole lot more at stake than he thought.
Chapter 6
This time it wasn’t a plane. It was a boat. A huge boat. I would suppose it would be called a yacht. It was all white and shiny. And the main living space was very lavish, furnished like a luxury apartment--gleaming woods and smooth, buttery leather as far as the eye could see.
“Wow,” I said as I wandered through the space, fingertips dragging over surfaces. “This is some boat. Let me guess, it belongs to…?”
“My uncle,” he finished. “Do you feel the same about boats as you do about planes?” my host asked me as he shadowed my movements, lingering close but not too close.
“No, not at all. I actually like boats. I love water.”
“Ah, then that is something we share in common.”
“One thing,” I echoed. “That’s probably the only thing.”
He caught me in a corner, next to a window, his bulky body blocking my escape. “I’m willing to guess there’s more than one.” His eyes glittered. I’d seen that sparkle before. My body warmed. A tingle swept through me.
Oh yes, I’d seen that sparkle before.
He’d sparkled like that at me.
And Alexis.
And Katarina.
And at least a dozen other women.
Pushing on his chest, I tried to duck past him so I could put some distance between us. My move backfired.
He grabbed my wrists, his grip like a vice. “Why do you keep running from me?”
“Because…” I couldn’t speak, dammit. Why wouldn’t my tongue work?
“Because?” His head tilted a little, so did his brows.
“Because,” I repeated. My throat was suddenly very dry. I coughed.
He angled slightly, putting his face closer to mine. “Are you scared of me, Daryl?”
“Why would I be scared of you?” I rasped.
“I don’t know.”
I flexed my wrist. “Please let me go.”
He didn’t let me go.
“Please,” I repeated. My gaze locked to his, and the air left my lungs in one slow, painful wheeze.
Completely ignoring my plea, he leaned lower, audibly inhaled. “You smell so good.”
“Stop it,” I snapped, anger displacing irritation. This guy had a lot of nerve, getting so pushy like this, crowding me, seducing me, messing with my head.
“I’m paying you a complement.”
“No you’re not. You’re playing games. I saw how you acted with those women at the mixer. All sexy and strong and sparkly. Just like this.”
“Sparkly?” he echoed sounding confused.
“Yes. Sparkly. Your eyes.”
Those freaking sparkles flashed brighter. “Ah, so you were jealous.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Yes, you were.” He bent lower still. Now his mouth was next to my ear, and his warm breath was caressing the side of my neck. Goose bumps prickled my shoulders and back. “If you want to know the truth, I didn’t like any of those girls,” he whispered.
“So
you say. Your pants said otherwise.”
He laughed, and the low vibration hummed through my body. Oh God, it was so insanely powerful, heat pooled between my legs. “Okay, so certain parts of my anatomy liked them. But others did not.”
“Why? Every one of those women is smart. And successful. And, obviously, they’re beautiful.”
“I can’t say why I didn’t connect with any of them. There was just…something missing.” His lips grazed the side of my neck.
My entire body stiffened. “There are others.”
“Hmm?”
“Other women.”
He nipped my neck and a shiver swept up my spine. “Tell me what you like, and I’ll introduce you to more women. Better women.”
“Okay,” he murmured against my skin. “Um…I like brunettes. Who are ambitious. And beautiful, of course. But she needs to possess natural beauty, the kind that glows from within.”
“You sound like you memorized that from some stupid book,” I said, shivering again.
“Are you cold?” his lips slid up to the sensitive spot under my ear. “You’re shivering.”
“No. I mean, yes. I’m cold.”
“I can take care of that.” Straightening up, he shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. “Better?”
No. That wasn’t better. Now his scent was filling my nose. That was all I needed--another sensation to add to the many that were already overwhelming my system. “Yes, thanks,” I said.
At least he’d let my wrists go.
My gaze jerked from his face--he was looking a little flushed--to the stairs leading up to the deck. “I…think I need some fresh air.”
“Sure.” He walked very close as we made our way to the stairs and then up them. On the deck, I went to the railing and looked out over the water at the beautiful sunset. The sky was painted in hues of indigo and salmon, and the low-hanging sun was reflected on the rippling surface. I saw no other boats. No other people. It was quiet. Peaceful. Serene.
I dragged in several long, deep breaths.
Tevin leaned a hip against the railing, close to my hand. “I could spend months out here, if I was given the chance.”
“By yourself?”
