by Talya Bosco
“Yeah. James was a fixer. He'd take things into his own hands and deal with them, no matter if it was the best choice.”
“Okay, well, I'll admit that maybe my choices this evening haven't been the most appropriate. But they worked out for the best, right?”
Larissa smirked. “I don't know, did they? I get one date with a married man who I can't even flirt with because I know his wife and will spend the entire week with her. One date with a gay man that got canceled, and one date with a complete stranger you can't tell me anything about.”
“So where's the problem?”
Larissa laughed and shook her head. It was going to be an interesting vacation.
Chapter Two
Larissa looked at herself in the mirror. It was one o'clock in the afternoon, and here she was trying on cocktail dresses suitable for a fancy evening out. She really didn't know why she was doing it, but Susan had insisted she at least try on a couple today. So far, Susan had picked out three she was insisting that Larissa buy. This one, though, was by far the most risqué of them all.
The dress was bustier-style, leaving her shoulders and arms completely bare, while providing support for her breasts from the stiff, tight material of the bodice. She felt like she was practically spilling out of it, but she knew that was the way it was supposed to be worn.
The torso of the bustier helped shape her, giving her the illusion of a true hourglass figure. Something she'd given up on the day she'd discovered chocolate. Unlike traditional bustiers, this one closed with a zipper hidden on the side, a feature she was sure was invented so the wearer would be able to put it on and take it off without help, which came in handy, especially today with her long nail tips she'd had put on for vacation. She'd been able to step into it and zip it into place without any trouble at all.
It was two different shades of purple, her favorite color. The main part of the dress was lavender, and a darker tone started at the sides of her chest and then met in a knot under her breasts. The skirt was mostly the paler color, interspersed with panels of the darker material. It ended right between her knees and ankles in an uneven hem, creating an added fullness to the overall effect.
Larissa had to admit it was her favorite. And if she were honest with herself, it looked good on her. It hid all the things she wasn't as fond of, like her stomach and wide thighs, while it accentuated what she considered her good points, like her arms and breasts. The cleavage alone would get some positive attention.
But she knew she had nowhere else to wear it after she got home, unless she counted the Christmas party her company had once a year.
Her dates usually required the equivalent of a nice business outfit, not a calf-length cocktail dress. At least not one this fancy.
But Susan had said Larissa deserved some new and sexy things, and she couldn't wear the same dress every night to dinner while she was here. Even if tonight's date was the last of her dates, given Thursday night was canceled. And since Canid Publishing was paying for it, Larissa didn't have much room to stand on when she tried to protest the purchases.
Even the shoes matched. Five-inch spike heels created a firm, shapely look to her calves and made her feel sexy. Still, despite her personal assessment, she knew the rest of the world wouldn't share it. She could imagine some of the snide remarks she'd get from people at the hotel.
She looked down again. Screw them. She looked good. Maybe. She opened the doors, still admiring the heels, and asked Susan, “How do I look?”
“Exquisite.”
The soft, warm voice sent shivers down her back, heating her skin as it rumbled through her body. She looked up into the brightest green eyes she had ever seen, and felt her heart skip a few beats before it kicked itself into overdrive.
Blood rushed to her head, overwhelming her and causing her to go weak in the knees. She reached out to regain her balance, and her hand was caught by the man in front of her.
Electricity shot from the contact straight to her pussy, and she got dizzy all over again. Dampness soaked through her panties, making her very glad she wasn't trying on pants as her body reacted to his touch.
“Ex-excuse me,” she stammered and tugged at her hand, trying to remove it from his grasp. “I'm sorry. I was looking for someone else.”
Instead of releasing her hand, however, he squeezed it tighter and pulled it, as well as her, toward him. “There's no need for apologies. I never mind helping a damsel in distress, and from the sound of your voice you were definitely distressed.
“That dress really is exquisite on you. I don't know why you doubt your appeal in it.” His breath brushed across her bare upper chest, making goose bumps appear over the rest of her body. When he glanced down at her cleavage, which was now pressed against his hard, wide chest, she felt the heat rush through her as she blushed.
“Well, you know, it never hurts to get a second opinion.” Although she intended it to be light and off the cuff, her voice came out breathy, huskier and sexier than normal. She needed to get away from him before she did something really stupid. Like throw her arms around him and grind her pussy against his cock and ask him to take her here and now.
She cleared her throat and pulled against his hold again. This time, he let her go.
Was that a sigh of disappointment? And did it escape her lips? Ridiculous.
“What do you mean, doubt my appeal?” His words finally penetrated into her brain.
“The way you came out. You were looking down, as though unsure, and your voice had no confidence in it.”
“You could tell that from just a few words?”
“I'm an excellent judge of human emotions.”
“Really? And what am I feeling right now?” Besides annoyance that anyone could read that much about her so quickly. She hated being that transparent to a complete and total stranger.
“Curiosity, uncertainty, sexual excitement.” His voice went low and deep, forcing her to cross her arms over her chest to hide her nipples' reaction.
“Awful sure of yourself, aren't you?” Embarrassment rushed through her. She really needed to work on hiding her emotions better. Not to mention her physical reactions.
“Would you wear that dress for me?”
“Excuse me?” Larissa frowned, unsure she understood what he'd just asked.
“Would you wear that dress for me? Go out to dinner with me this evening and wear that dress?”
She definitely had not heard him say that either.
“I'm sorry, but I don't make a habit of dating strangers.”
“Agree to go on a date, and we won't be strangers anymore.”
Larissa shook her head, more regretful than she wanted to admit, even to herself. “Sorry, I already have a date for tonight.”
“Will your date approve of the dress as much as I do?”
“I don't know. I've never met—” Larissa stopped. She'd just told this sexy hunk of a man she wouldn't date him because he was a stranger, and then admitted that was exactly what she was doing tonight. She looked down, at a loss for words.
His hand cupped her chin and urged her head up until his gaze met hers. “Tomorrow, then. Where shall I pick you up?”
Pick her up? Was he serious? Of course he was, why else would he say it? It wasn't like he was being put up for this. Or was he? She narrowed her eyes before asking him.
“Do you work for Canid?”
He shook his head. “I'm sorry. I don't know anyone by the name Canid.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you want to go out with me?”
His gaze raked across her body, making her shiver in response once again. She felt her skin flush at the naked appraisal evident in his eyes.
“Because I think you are a beautiful woman and would like to get to know you.”
Larissa wanted to scoff at his words. But the look in his eyes was enough to trust that he was telling the truth.
“Okay.” Her response was low and husky.
&nb
sp; “Where can I pick you up?”
Despite the fact something in her was urging her to trust this stranger, the sensible part of her was still telling her to be cautious. “Why don't I just meet you at the restaurant at the Betran Hotel.”
He nodded. “Is eight o'clock acceptable to you?”
“It's fine.”
“Until then.”
He turned to leave, but she called him back.
“Wait! I don't even know your name.”
“Devon Caldano. And you are?”
“Larissa Myles.”
He picked up her hand and brought it to his lips. “Until tomorrow evening, then, lady Larissa.” The feather brush of his soft lips against her knuckles had her going weak at the knees again. She closed her eyes. When she opened them, he was gone.
* * * * *
Take two.
Larissa stood outside the restaurant and took a deep breath. Well, it couldn't go as badly as last night, could it? Susan had assured her not an hour ago that her date was going to be here, that he really was a model, and that he was drop-dead gorgeous.
Of course, that had been after spending the morning apologizing for what her husband had done and assuring Larissa that she would try to set up two more dates later this week.
Larissa had told her not to do anything of the sort. She'd enjoyed her time with Jeffrey and had told Susan as much. He'd been polite, fun, and a fount of local information. It had been a great introduction to her time in Kansas City, and she wouldn't trade it for anything. She didn't need two more dates to make her vacation fun. It was already that.
She'd been forced to tell her about the stranger in the dress shop as well. Susan had been full of questions. Questions Larissa didn't have the answers to. And things she wasn't about to tell Susan. Things like: she would much prefer to be meeting him tonight rather than this unknown model.
And that he was definitely the kind of man she would willingly let herself get into trouble with. Him, and maybe a brother. Or maybe the hunk from yesterday outside the restaurant.
She shook her head. Damn her overactive hormones. It had been one of Larissa's fantasies for years to be involved in a ménage à trois. Creating a full-on triad was something she'd never even dared dream about. After all, what were the odds she would find one man who would take her forever, never mind two?
But between being here because of Michelle's stories, which all ended with established triads, and her meeting two of the sexiest men she'd ever seen, Larissa's mind was in the gutter and her libido was in high gear.
She'd taken a nap earlier this evening, and it had been filled with hot, wet dreams about a pair of sexy men making love to her all day. She'd woken up so excited and turned on, she'd masturbated without the help of a vibrator for the first time in years.
So now here she was. Hot, horny, and frustrated. Wearing yet another sexy little outfit that Susan had convinced her to buy earlier today.
It was an asymmetrical design, draping over one shoulder while leaving the other bare. The one sleeve stopped midway down her right biceps and fell in graceful ripples, mirrored by the handkerchief calf-length hem of the dress. Her shoes had four-inch spike heels, making her feel almost tall. The deep green of the dress reminded her of an expensive emerald. All in all, she felt pretty damn impressive tonight.
“Ms. Myles! Glad to see you again. Your date tonight is definitely yummy. I have to admit I'm jealous of you. What I wouldn't give to have a date with a couple of cover models from romances. This one is a dream come true.”
Larissa smiled in agreement. The hostess was right; it should be a dream come true. And despite the mix-ups with her dates, she was having a great time. Now if only this date was the man she saw yesterday evening, it would be perfect.
The young woman moved into the restaurant, and once again Larissa followed her, scanning the patrons and staff alike.
She saw many of the same staff from the night before, as well as guests who looked familiar. When her gaze found the only single man in the room, she knew he had to be her date. Both the hostess and Susan had definitely been right when they called this one gorgeous. Blond and well-built, he was obviously tall, even sitting down. He fit the physical description she had come to expect from Michelle in her books to a tee. But all similarity to the well-liked weres in her stories ended there.
This man had a cold, hard face and looked to be in a foul mood. Not possible. She couldn't have date karma that bad, could she?
When the hostess stopped at the table, Larissa's fears skyrocketed at the new look on her date's face. His scathing glance of disapproval couldn't be mistaken for anything else.
“Ms. Myles.” He nodded, not bothering to stand up.
“Yes, I am. And you would be?”
“Philip Prentiss.” The man preened. He honest to God preened. This was going to be a long night.
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Prentiss.” Larissa plastered a smile on her face and told herself it might not be as bad as she thought. She pulled out her chair to sit, and before she was even seated, her date had called the waiter and started to order.
“I will have a salad with a grilled chicken breast, dry, no dressing. Make sure the chicken is cooked through, but don't put it on the salad until it has cooled sufficiently, I want the greens to be fresh, not wilted from the heat of the meat. Sprinkle some fresh lemon juice on the chicken, and I mean fresh, none of that bottled crap. And only a sprinkle.”
Larissa watched the man as he continued to make his demands, coming across as a bigger asshole than her last boyfriend was. And she'd thought that was impossible. The looks of disgust he gave her over his menu sent her pulse racing. Her hands started to shake with the adrenaline that flooded her body as it prepared to run away or deal with the horrible night she knew was coming.
“And the lady will have the same.”
“No, the lady will not have the same.” Larissa turned to look at the waiter with a smile. “The lady will have the six-ounce petite sirloin with a baked potato—just butter, please. The dinner salad that comes with it is fine, and well, I guess you can put a diet French dressing on that if you have it; if not, then a red French will do. I'm not too picky.”
She remembered the waiter's name was Andy. He had been her waiter every night since she'd arrived, and she had been pleased with his service. His smile assured her that tonight would be no different. After all, unlike her date, she wasn't a difficult patron.
“Well, I can't say I'm surprised, but I hoped for better.” Larissa took a deep breath and fought the nausea that tried to work its way into her stomach. She'd learned to accept her size a long time ago, but people like Prentiss never made it easy.
She pursed her lips. “I'm sorry to disappoint you, but not every woman feels the need to starve herself just to fit into the accepted parameters of society.”
Prentiss sneered. “And you're happy with yourself like…like that?” He gestured to her body with his free hand.
What about some people made them feel as though they had the right, the obligation, it seemed, to criticize those who weren't in perfect physical form? So what if she was plus-sized? She was happy the way she was. It wasn't anyone's damn business, and if they didn't like it, then they had the option of not looking at her. She tried not to make value judgments based on appearances, and the times she had, she kept them to herself. Nothing gave this asshole the right to be her judge, jury, and executioner. And she was damned if she was going to let him get the better of her. “Actually, in fact, I am. I eat plenty of fruits and vegetables, I get the protein my body needs, and I get to eat some extras. I get enough exercise that I'm not going to die tomorrow, but I still live a healthy and full life.”
“And you'll be alone the rest of your life. Is that what you want?”
Larissa couldn't help herself. She laughed. Not a nice polite little laugh, but a full-blown belly laugh that carried across the dining room. “Mr. Prentiss, you sound exactly like my mother. Thank you for that. Up until
this moment I thought I'd have to sit through this dinner politely and chalk it up to experience. But now, I have no qualms in telling you what I am about to say.
“First of all, I know nothing about you, but I can already tell you're a pompous, arrogant ass. Anyone stupid enough to choose to spend time with you is either as self-centered as you are or dumb enough to get what they deserve.
“Now, as this is my vacation, I am going to set the rules for the night. You have two choices. Either get out of your seat and leave now before I'm forced to call Susan and tell her how rude and inconsiderate you are, or sit there and shut up. If I have to listen to one more word out of your mouth, I will make sure that Canid Publishing knows exactly how you treated me.”
Prentiss opened and shut his mouth like a fish as he debated her options. She hoped he'd pick the first option. Pretty though he may be, she was afraid if she was forced to eat dinner opposite him, she'd end up with indigestion.
“How dare you tell me I'm not entitled to my opinion.”
“Oh, you're entitled to it, but you are not entitled to blab it to the nearest person. And if you had even a modicum of manners, I am sure you would know that. Now why you thought I would sit here and take it, I have no idea. Perhaps someone mentioned I was an easygoing sort. And they would have been right. But I draw the line at rudeness. And in fact, I've changed my mind. If you don't leave, I will.”
Larissa grabbed the napkin that had been on her lap and folded it carefully, placing it on the table in front of her before pushing her chair away. “I am sorry for you, Mr. Prentiss. I hope someday you grow up.”
She stood and turned to walk away. She expected her legs to be shaky, but she'd never felt more confident in her life as she left her “Dream Date Number Two” behind her. Less than halfway to the door, however, Andy intercepted her.
“Ms. Myles?”
“Yes?” She turned, smiling, actually in a good mood.
“I am sorry. I overheard some of that. Would you like us to ask the gentleman”—his face crinkled at the word—“to leave?”
