A Date With Fortune

by Susan Crosby

  While Morris described some of the candy creations available for Valentine’s Day, the shot moved into the kitchen, where Liz and two helpers were packing orders.

  “My hair looks spectacular, doesn’t it?” Liz said, fluffing her curls.

  And almost as soon as it started, it seemed, Morris wrapped up the story, Felicity smiled, then sighed. She’d survived the interview, which was not just good but great, at least from a business sense. He’d done a fine job of showcasing her creations. Heck, she would’ve bought some herself!

  “Better?” Liz asked.

  “Yes. I think I could eat now, after all.” She picked up her bagel with cream cheese and took a bite.

  Her cell phone rang a few seconds later. “Good morning, Michael.”

  “Well, how do you feel?”

  “Relieved and okay.”

  “I thought it was excellent.”

  “You saw it?”

  “I can find anything on television anywhere. You didn’t look nervous.”

  “I was more nervous watching it this morning than when I gave the interview.”

  “That’s normal. Look, I’m sorry this is short, but I’ve got a big meeting in a few minutes.”

  “I remember. Good luck.”

  “Felicity?” His tone of voice changed, softened.

  “Yes?”

  “I can’t wait for Thursday. Bye.”

  Sarah-Jane rolled her eyes, having been standing there, watching. “Ah, young love.”

  “Exactly what I say about you and Wyatt all the time. You’re pretty disgusting, actually.”

  “On that happy note, I’m leaving. You’re not the only one with Valentine orders to fill.”

  The shop phone rang. Felicity looked at Liz. “We’re not open yet. Think I should answer it?”

  “I have a feeling it’s answer it now or return a call later.”

  The phone didn’t stop ringing all day. And internet orders came in by the droves. She couldn’t possibly meet the demand, unless she sent someone to the Sweets Market and hired a staff of three to help. She and Liz could make the candy while the others covered all the different bases.

  She decided to go full steam ahead. Sarah-Jane got someone to cover The Stocking Stitch. There were parts of the truffle-making process she could do well enough.

  By late afternoon Sarah-Jane pulled Felicity aside and said, “Either you stop taking special orders or you die.”

  She was tired. They were all tired. “This is a one-time shot. If I don’t fill the orders, I won’t get another chance at it.”

  “Do you really want to be that big?”

  Did she? She’d been struggling with that decision all along. “I don’t know.”

  “It’s something you need to plan for. You can’t just dive into it like this. You’ll burn yourself out.”

  “I can’t even think, Sarah-Jane.”

  “Then let me help. Stop...taking...special...orders. If people want to come here and choose from what’s left, fine. Just tell those who contact you from now on that you were overwhelmed with orders after the interview, then give them a discount code to apply to another purchase down the road.”

  Which is what they did. Even so, they were up all night. She hired someone to make deliveries in San Antonio and the surrounding communities the next day, then she and her crew started on the chocolate-dipped strawberries, the unavoidably last-minute item. By the time Valentine’s Day arrived, she’d gotten about six hours’ sleep over two days.

  Then Michael arrived.

  She was so tired she almost fell into his arms and sobbed.

  Michael saw how fragile she looked. “Is everything under control here?” he asked Liz.

  “As of a few minutes ago, yes. Relatively so, anyway, compared to the past two days.”

  “Can she leave?”

  “I’m not done yet,” Felicity said, straightening, lifting her chin.

  “Yes, you are, sweetheart,” Liz said, passing Felicity’s purse to her. “Take her, Michael. Have fun.”

  Felicity eyed him, saw what he was wearing. “That’s not my Michael. He’s not wearing a suit. He’s got on...khakis. And a sport shirt. I don’t know this man.” She grinned stupidly as he pulled her along.

  My Michael. The words were music to his ears. “Have you packed?” he asked as he opened his car door for her.

  “I haven’t even been home for two days.” She looked at him with glazed eyes. “I need a shower.”

  “All right.” He silently cursed his father for putting her in this position. She had plenty of business without the extra resulting from the interview.

  “The power of the media,” she murmured, closing her eyes and resting her head.

  “And being the new, hot item.”

  “Who would’ve thought? I expected an increase. I didn’t expect what I got.”

  My father knew. Morris knew.

  “I hope I’ll be good company for you,” she said, her voice drifting.

  “You’ll have time to sleep on the plane.”

  That roused her. “Plane?”

  “I hired Tanner Redmond.” He was a local charter pilot who’d married Michael’s sister Jordana the year before. “He’s flying us to the Cayman Islands.”

  Felicity’s eyes opened. She sat up. “He is? We’re going to the Caribbean?”

  “Happy Valentine’s Day.” She liked adventure and memories? He would provide them for her.

  She smiled giddily. He’d missed her. Even though he’d been consumed with the buyout, he’d missed her, had wished she was at his house at night to talk to, to let down. Instead he’d been keyed up, and still angry at his father for interfering in Felicity’s life. He needed this night away, too. Maybe they could turn it into more than one....

  At her apartment, Michael paced while she packed. “You don’t need that much,” he called up the staircase, wondering if she’d fallen asleep.

  She came down dressed in a summer dress and sandals, suitcase in hand, a much larger one that he thought she needed, but that was a woman for you. At the bottom of the stairs, he reached for it but she didn’t let go.

  “You haven’t kissed me hello,” she said.

  He slowed himself down, stopped being in such a hurry to get away. “How remiss of me.”

  “I thought so, too.”

  Even worn out, she sparkled, her eyes bright, her lips tempting. He moved in on her in such a way that she laughed. He acted as if he was going to devour her, then shifted gears and kissed her tenderly and fully so that when he lifted his head, her eyes were still closed, her mouth upturned in a smile. She sighed.

  “Now that is a Happy Valentine’s Day greeting,” she said. “We can go.”

  He opened her front door. “There’s more where that came from.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  * * *

  Michael’s brother-in-law Tanner Redmond was the owner/operator of Redmond Flight School. His close-cropped hair was a carryover from his days in the air force. He’d made his own success since getting out, was a trusted charter pilot and instructor. Even if they hadn’t been related, Michael would’ve hired him by reputation alone.

  “How long is the flight?” Felicity asked Michael, as they buckled in.

  “Not that long. We’ll be there in plenty of time to enjoy dinner at sunset. Tanner’s made up a couple of the seats as a bed for you.”

  Her brows went up. “There’s a bed? Are we going to be a mile high?”

  He gave her a steady look, hiding his sudden surge in anticipation. “We’re not going to be anywhere if you don’t get some sleep first.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  He traced a finger down her neck, then hooked the bodice of her sundress. “I’d be happy—more than happy—to accommodate any wishes you have. Just be sure, Felicity.”

  She sucked in a breath as he slipped a hand under her dress to cup her breast, her nipple grazing his fingertips, then pressing into his palm.

  “We’re a
ll set up here” came Tanner’s voice through the speakers. “Are you ready?”

  Michael pressed the intercom button overhead, staring at Felicity. “More than ready.”

  “Okay. I’ll let you know when you can go to bed.”

  Michael shook his head at Felicity, who seemed ready to add her own double entendres.

  The anticipation would build steadily now, he thought, satisfied. He liked anticipation almost as much as he liked a payoff.

  He reached for her hand, then as the plane barreled down the short runway, she squeezed his hard.

  “Don’t like to fly?”

  “I haven’t taken that many flights and never one in a plane this small.” She glanced around the interior, then back at him. “You look nice in your casual wear. Did you go shopping just for this trip?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did.”

  “You seem more approachable. Or maybe that’s because you don’t look so stern right now.”

  “How can anyone be stern around you?” He brushed his fingers down her hair, tucking it behind her ear before he pressed his lips to the sensitive spot behind her lobe.

  “Are you seducing me?” she asked, a little breathless.

  “If you have to ask, it’s not working.”

  It wasn’t long before Tanner turned off the fasten-seat-belt sign. Michael got up immediately and moved Felicity to the made-up bed. He folded back the blanket and fluffed a pillow.

  “What, no mint?” she asked.

  “You should hit Tanner up for the business.”

  “I’ll do that.” She settled in. “Stay with me, please.”

  He didn’t have to be asked twice. Two seats had been prepared, so there was room for both of them. He kicked off his shoes and stretched out beside her, on top of the blanket. She snuggled close, pressed her face against his shoulder, rested an arm across his chest. He entwined his fingers with hers.

  “The faster you fall sleep, the sooner we get there,” he said.

  “You sound just like my father. Those family vacations were so much fun....” Her voice trailed off.

  Fastest fall into sleep ever, he decided. The next thing he heard was Tanner announcing ten minutes until landing.

  She opened her eyes, saw him and smiled. “Hi.”

  He brushed his fingers along her cheek. “Next stop, paradise.”

  They resettled in their upright seats and held hands while they landed, refreshed, rested and ready for whatever happened next.

  Chapter Ten

  “The suite has two bedrooms,” Michael said from behind Felicity when they entered their spacious ground-floor hotel room in the luxurious resort on Seven Mile Beach. She could see a patio, where a table for two was set for dinner. Beyond that, just sand and sea.

  “We have an hour and a half until they serve us.” He walked past her with her suitcase, taking it to one bedroom and setting it inside the door. Then he came back for his and took it to the other bedroom.

  The fact he continued to give her an out if she wanted it endeared him to her all the more.

  “This is the most beautiful place I’ve ever been,” she said, kicking off her sandals and heading outside. She moved past the table and onto the cool sand that engulfed her feet and squished between her toes. It was a short walk to the water from there, but she was drawn powerfully to it. She wished they were staying a week. Maybe they could. Maybe the night would lead to something they hadn’t planned on.

  She turned around, walking backward, making sure he was coming, too. He was right there, his shoes off, pant legs rolled up. He looked years younger and carefree. She held out her hand. He took it and they ran straight into the sea. She laughed at the feel of the water, not warm but not really cold, either. The waves were gentle.

  “Did you pack a bathing suit?” he asked.

  “Yes. Did you?”

  “This answer may surprise you, but yes, I did.”

  “What are we waiting for?”

  They hurried back to their rooms, changed and met on the patio. Everything about him appealed to her. His body was strong and sturdy and muscular, his chest dusted with dark hair that made a fascinating trail down his stomach to his abdomen, disappearing beneath his trunks. She didn’t want to swim. She wanted to haul him to bed and kiss him senseless, then have her way with him.

  “You’re wearing a Sarah-Jane original,” he said, openly admiring her hot-pink crocheted bikini.

  Felicity had never thought she would wear the daring Christmas gift that barely covered her rear, that cupped and lifted her breasts, giving her cleavage she didn’t realize she had until she put on the suit.

  “Do you like it?” she asked coyly, turning around slowly, giving him a full view.

  “You take my breath away.”

  “I’m in need of a little oxygen myself,” she said, slipping her arms around him, coming body to body. She spread her hands on his chest and explored the tautness and textures, pressing her lips to his flesh, sweeping her tongue along his ribs. She felt him grow hard against her belly, heard him make sounds of need—or maybe pleasure, felt his fingers dig into her back, encouraging her to move lower until she swirled her tongue around his navel.

  He gripped her shoulders and hauled her up, bringing his mouth down hard on hers, sliding his hands under her bikini bottom and grabbing her rear, squeezing, then smoothing over and over, lifting her to him—

  A whistle pierced the air. Three teenage boys were skimboarding along the shore. Whether the whistle had been intended to let Felicity and Michael know they had an audience, or they were whistling at each other didn’t matter. They pushed apart instantly, both breathing heavily.

  “That was somewhat nice,” she said after a minute, giving him a wink.

  “Brat.” He hooked his arm around her, and they walked to the shore, the boys having moved on.

  They held hands and eased into the water, gentle waves lapping at their feet, their ankles. She’d only been swimming in the ocean once. She had a healthy fear and respect for its power. She looked back toward shore. Other than the boys earlier, there didn’t seem to be anyone around. “Why are we relatively alone here?”

  “I requested it.”

  “Do you always get what you ask for?”

  He frowned. “I guess so. I’m not sure I ever gave it much thought. Most people don’t ask for something they aren’t pretty sure they’ll get.”

  She thought that over for a few seconds. “I think people get turned down all the time. You’re just charmed.” And rich. Rich helped, she supposed. It wasn’t the answer to everything in life, but for acquiring things it was.

  “There’s a difference, too, between getting what you ask for and getting what you want.”

  “That’s a very good point, Mr. Fortune.” A larger wave rolled in on them. She closed her eyes and jumped, never letting go of his hand.

  They played awhile longer, having water fights, taking every opportunity to touch each other. Fever pitch. She finally understood the term.

  They showered separately. She put on her red dress and went barefoot. She felt sexy and liberated, especially when she saw him standing on the patio, waiting for her. She loved him, was ready for him. For this intimacy.

  A cart had been rolled in, with glasses and a pitcher of strawberry margaritas. He met her in the living room, taking her hand and kissing it, then tucking her arm under his, walking her to a cushioned love seat. He poured their drinks, then sat beside her.

  The sun touched the water. In short order it sizzled below the horizon as they sipped their sweet concoctions.

  “Another unforgettable moment,” she said, and felt him kiss her head, his breath warm against her hair.

  The food arrived. He hadn’t ordered fancy, but a chicken fettuccini with asparagus, and a rustic pizza with rosemary, prosciutto and arugula drizzled with truffle oil. They shared everything, including a plate of tropical fruit for dessert, each piece perfect and sweet.

  Then it was time.

 
; Michael rolled the cart into the hall, put the do-not-disturb sign on the doorknob, anticipation having reached the point of no return. She could still say no and he would stop, but he didn’t think she planned to say no. The memory of her in the bikini was all he could see. Did she have a similar image of him? Bathing suits left little to the imagination, especially when wet. Or a second skin, like hers was.

  He found her standing in the open patio door, watching the sea. He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her, resting his jaw along her hair.

  “Would you like to take a walk?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Would you like to dance?”

  It took her a little longer to answer. “No.” She turned to face him. “I would like you to take me to your bed.”

  He scooped her into his arms. “See? You get what you ask for.”

  He’d already turned down his bedding, folding all of it to the bottom of the bed. He’d lowered the lights, but left some on, too, wanting to see her face as they made love, wanted her to see him. He wanted to stretch out beside her, to get his fill of her, to touch, to feel, to kiss. He wanted her hair to drift against his skin.

  He wanted it all. Now.

  Michael set her down next to the bed. She was shaking. Nerves or eagerness? He felt the same, although why he was nervous was beyond him. He cupped her face, kissed her with as much restraint as he could manage. You’re making a memory, he reminded himself. You only get one chance at a first time.

  He felt her arms come between them but only to unbutton his shirt.

  “I feel like I’ve been waiting years for this, for you,” she said, breathing hot air against the skin she revealed as she continued down his shirt. She shoved it off his shoulders, letting it drop, then her hands and mouth were everywhere. When she reached for the zipper of his pants, he unzipped her dress, encountering nothing under it, no bra, no panties, just smooth, silky skin and toned, perfectly curved flesh.

  She shoved his pants down as her dress fell to the floor. “You are spectacular,” she said, barely audible, as she wrapped her shaking hands around him.

  “You stole my line.” Her breasts were perfect, her nipples hard, inviting his mouth. He took her hands away from him, held them to her sides, needing more control. Then he had her on her back on the bed, was covering her with his own body. They stayed like that, not moving, just feeling. She had her eyes closed and sucked air through her teeth. Her body shook.