Wild Irish: Wild Image (KW) (A Charisma series novel, The Connollys Book 1)

by Heather Hiestand

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “Dion?” The voice on the other end wasn’t his mother at all. A younger voice, filled with staccato purpose.

  “Speaking.” He frowned and checked the number. Unfamiliar. Maybe someone hoping to buy photographs from him directly?

  “It’s Kasee Kean.”

  Ah, the beautiful pseudo-celebrity who maybe had hit on him. The dry spell he’d been in sexually had him dropping his voice to a growl. “Oh, hey.”

  “Is this a good time to talk? You sound distracted.”

  She had sat on the sidewalk with her hands bleeding, and asked him out. Crazy or strong-willed, he wasn’t sure which, but he needed to take control of the situation before she steamrolled him.

  “This about a date or a job, Mrs. Kean? I’m only interested in one of those options.”

  He hadn’t been sure what reaction he’d get from her, maybe one of those cheesy “Mrs. Kean is my mother-in-law, call me Kasee” kind of lines, but instead she laughed, in a husky, intimate manner that sent the blood rushing south, making his jeans uncomfortably tight.

  “I haven’t had sex in almost a year,” she responded. “Even a date with me would be a job at this point.”

  That did it. His erection went to full boner in an instant. He could feel the pre-cum dampening his boxers. “So it’s work, then? You want to be photographed somewhere? It has to be a place where there are other celebrities.”

  “Why?”

  “I need the money,” he growled. “More than I need sex. I can get that anywhere.”

  “I know, baby,” she cooed. “You’re gorgeous. I get that.”

  “So? What do you need?”

  “To see you.”

  Dion looked out the window. Dark now. Did she want a booty call? His cock was saying yes, his brain was telling him this was a rich white woman on the rebound. She hadn’t brought up sex to make conversation. Right now, he didn’t need the distraction. “You have poor timing, Mrs. Kean. Right now I need to focus on work. I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m looking for photo ops.”

  “Meet me for lunch tomorrow at Sunday’s restaurant,” she said. “I have a proposition for you, and I think you’ll be interested. I’m willing to bet you aren’t working at noon.”

  “You buying?”

  “Only if you call me Kasee. I’m not looking to be your sugar mama. I’m not that much older than you.”

  He wondered how much money she’d gotten in her divorce, but the thought was ungentlemanly. Thinking about her tight body, though, that was fair game. And how tight the rest of her would be, after a year of celibacy. He couldn’t help teasing her. “How are you taking care of yourself, honey?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Vibrator? Dildo? Your fingers?”

  He heard the sharp intake of her breath, but she didn’t say anything.

  He grinned and lowered his voice to a drawl. “Are you wet right now? Listening to my voice?”

  She gasped but said nothing.

  “Can you imagine how good it would feel to have my hands on your breasts, squeezing your nipples? Running my fingers down your skin, delving down into those wet folds, circling your clit? Maybe dipping down, deep between your legs?”

  “Stop it.” Her voice sounded strangled.

  “Why? It’s obviously turning you on.”

  “It’s phone sex. I didn’t agree to phone sex.”

  “You’re crazy attracted to me.”

  His words sounded like a tease to him, but when she spoke, she sounded mournful. “But you aren’t that attracted to me, so you’re just playing mind games.”

  Kasee Kean shouldn’t sound so defeated. He reviewed the sight of her, those long, athletic legs, the thin little dress that hadn’t kept her nipples in line. He’d seem them pebbled under her dress as he’d helped her up from the sidewalk. “I never said I didn’t want to get with you, but that doesn’t mean I’m buying what you’re trying to sell me.”

  “I’m not looking for a one-night stand.”

  “Then I guess I won’t bother inviting you over right now,” he said. “You use that vibrator, or dildo, or your fingers, to take care of that heat between your legs, sweetheart.”

  “Are we on for lunch tomorrow?”

  “Sure, see you then.” He hung up before his own hunger, which had risen with each provocative word he said to her, betrayed him.

  ~

  The dress Kasee wore to her lunch with Dion felt like armor. Not that the dress, a subdued navy shift, had that effect, but the long-sleeved jacket she wore over it, double-breasted, turned the outfit into something one would wear to a business meeting. She’d never held a proper job, but if her life had gone the way she expected it to, back before she met Keith, she’d have worn outfits like this as a junior executive in some Fortune 500 company. Her major had been business and she’d thought Keith would employ her at one of his new-car dealerships, but that hadn’t been what he wanted. He’d been looking for a blond trophy. So, she’d spent her twenties managing their two houses, and shopping. When her father had had the heart attack, she’d helped her mother pack up her house and move to Florida. She’d done all the packing and selling of her childhood home, and then found the perfect condo for her mother. Then Keith’s parents had died and she’d packed up their house too. She’d found a new home for her sister-in-law’s family with the money they’d inherited. But when she’d suggested to Keith that she get her real estate license, he’d pooh-poohed it, saying he’d rather have her at home, and didn’t she want to try for a baby?

  By then, she’d already discovered how selfish Keith had been, and wasn’t sure she wanted to make him a father. She’d jumped on the chance when she heard about the casting for Ladies of Baltimore, and had fought hard for her slot. The last two years of her life, the ones that had seen her crossing into her thirties, had been about the show. It was her career, especially since the real estate dream had kind of dried up during the divorce.

  “Hi, Kasee.” The restaurant hostess smiled at her, exposing her braces.

  “What are you doing here on a weekday?” Kasee asked. She was used to seeing this hostess on weekend evenings.

  “Changed shifts. It’s nice to see you again. You aren’t here so much anymore.”

  “Things change. Does Keith still come on the weekends?”

  “No. I’ve heard he and his new wife-to-be prefer sushi.”

  Kasee forced a smile. “Then I guess I can be a regular again.”

  “Great! Are you dining alone? A business meeting?”

  “There will be two of us.” Kasee had gone ahead with her real estate license to distract herself as her life had fallen apart. It had required her to find a position before it was granted. She thought she’d be doing it all on camera, which hadn’t happened thanks to Tammy. But, she hadn’t actually sold a house yet. The leads she’d been offered by her new firm were terrible, nearly all located in West Baltimore, probably because she’d found a job at a company where she didn’t know anyone. At this point, her celebrity status hadn’t done her any favors. No one cared about her in West Baltimore. She’d rather set her own hours and sell exclusive properties in places like Crownsville or Severna Park. But to do that, she’d have to actually write up a resume and get interviews with more strangers, at better real estate firms.

  “Fun. What are you doing these days?”

  “Real estate.” She fished her card out of her bag and handed it to the hostess. “Starter firm, I’m afraid.”

  “Maybe you can build them into a real player,” the hostess said. “It’s all about your team, right?”

  “I don’t know. Until I was trying to enter the business, I didn’t realize I didn’t know anyone in it.”

  “Networking,” the hostess said. “Join a club or something.”

  Kasee nodded intelligently. “Yes, I need to do that.”

  The door opened behind her. She felt that disturbance in the air that indicated someone important had
entered.

  She turned around and drank in the sight of Dion, broad-shouldered in a tan leather jacket and black slacks. His brown hair was flat against his skull, as if he was fresh out of the shower. She longed to touch it, to discover if the texture was soft or wiry. Her knees went a little wobbly as she remembered their phone conversation the night before, the way he’d made her so crazy that she’d had to give into that lust he’d created in her lonely bed. Now, seeing him, she had to admit that taking care of herself hadn’t dampened her arousal at all.

  She grinned like an idiot in his direction, and all he did was lift his eyebrows in response. Who knew? Maybe he’d had phone sex with three other women after they hung up. Maybe it was a regular pastime for him.

  “I have your table for you,” said the hostess behind them.

  Dion came forward and silently, they followed a server to their table. A prime spot, it had a view to the street outside. The spring sun poured in.

  Kasee decided to go on the offensive. It was the only way to deal with her jangled nerves. “You seem wary today.”

  He pulled out her chair for her. “Didn’t sleep well last night.”

  She appreciated the gentlemanly gesture. “Thank you. Why didn’t you sleep well?”

  “I’m not used to doing the heavy-duty flirtation thing with some woman, and then be turned down.”

  “I’m done with men.” Her tone was flat, a knee-jerk reaction to his arrogance. “This was never about you and me acting out some response to chemistry.”

  “So you admit we have some?” He licked his lower lip.

  She wanted to bite it. She wanted those lips on her breasts, and other places that were even more sensitive to a man’s caresses. “That’s not the point.”

  Another server arrived and asked them for their drink order. They both asked for iced tea, no sugar, then perused their menus.

  “I hear you used to be a regular here.”

  “Might be a good idea for me to become one again,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “Good will. I have my real estate license now. I need to start building my business.”

  “As a backup to being famous?”

  She gestured at herself. “Even if I get back on the show, I need a full life. They need something more to film than me flicking through magazines and dusting what little furniture I have.”

  “Where do I fit into this plan?” He nodded his thanks to the server who arrived with their tea, then ordered a Reuben.

  “I have a shot to get back on the show. There’s a dinner party tomorrow night. The cast will all be there.”

  “You’re invited?”

  Tentatively, she touched his arm. “You and me. I pitched us as a couple. Let's form a partnership to create a hot, combustible relationship in front of the cameras.”

  He shook his head and picked up his tea glass. She could tell he found her pitch amusing. How could she sell this?

  “Do you have a girlfriend? Some reason you wouldn’t want to be a celebrity? It could take your career to another level.”

  He took a drink, then stroked his smooth cheek with his free hand. “Part of a paparazzo’s success is built on stealth. If I’m recognizable it might actually hurt me.”

  “Is this a career you want forever? Chasing celebrities?”

  “As long as it stays this lucrative, sure.” He shrugged. “I’ve got bills, same as the next guy.”

  “I don’t get the sense you have expensive tastes.” His clothing was department-store casual. No expensive watch. His earrings, one in each ear, were simple gold studs.

  “I have overhead. The cameras are expensive. I need a car that fits into upscale neighborhoods. Self-employment requires a lot of payout for taxes.”

  “Think of this as another business opportunity. You could open your own photography studio or something, thanks to the increased visibility. Your name will mean something. You’ll get invitations to events and parties you would never have known about before. And the show is nationally syndicated. The best paparazzi companies will hire you to take pictures. I’m guessing you aren’t a member of the elite circle, since you’re working here.”

  His gaze narrowed. “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “I know your phone number is local.”

  “You got me.” His Reuben was placed in front of him. “Aren’t you eating?”

  “No, I’m going on camera tomorrow for the first time in months.”

  “And that requires starving yourself?” He picked up his glass.

  “You can’t be naïve about this stuff.”

  “I like curves, personally. And I know how to photograph women to flatter them.”

  “Better than focusing on humiliation.”

  “I have been offered a couple of jobs like that,” he admitted. “Someone gained a bunch of weight and tabloids want pictures, that kind of thing.”

  “The media can be cruel.”

  “Yet we both want to be a part of it.”

  She heard the decision behind his words. “So is that a yes? You’ll go to the dinner party with me tomorrow?”

  He shrugged. “What’s the story? Are we supposed to be in love? Or is it just a first date?”

  “Well, it is reality television, and we have to remember we can’t just create fiction.”

  Dion nodded. “Got it.”

  “We can just say it’s a new relationship. That’s way less humiliating than claiming it’s a blind date or something.”

  “So is will be our first date?”

  “No, like—” She bit her lip. “Our third date?”

  Laughter rumbled from his chest. “And you know what that means.”

  She tossed her hair. “I don’t get with men I’m not in love with. I never did. Maybe I’m a little delusional sometimes, but I’m not easy.”

  “So noted. I’ll come along if you promise one thing.”

  “What?”

  “That you aren’t done with men.” His tone was suggestive.

  She bit her lip. “Okay. But that’s not enough. You have to stay around if I get back on the show. We need to plan an arc.”

  “I’m not going to be your rental boyfriend,” he warned.

  “No, it has to be real, but we have to date for a couple of months, at least.”

  “For as long as the show is shooting.”

  She nodded.

  “Then I have my own rules,” he said.

  “What?”

  He bared his teeth. “Then it’s got to be real.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you have to try to fall in love with me, with everything that implies.”

  She remembered Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. Dion was just as enticing, just as dangerous. And all he was asking, basically, was for her to come closer. “Is that really what you want?”

  He leaned over the table. “I never say anything I don’t mean.”

  Chapter Three

  Dion parked down the street from the restaurant the next day. He’d never been on camera before. The thought put him as off-balance as he’d probably made Kasee the day before when he’d asked her to try to fall in love with him. In the moment he’d given into the temptation to push her like he had with her sexuality on the phone. He didn’t like to see people taking the easy way out. Time would tell what sort of person Kasee Kean was. For now he needed to focus on himself—the third-date wonder.

  “Prepare to become a sex symbol,” he muttered to himself as he left his car and buttoned his jacket.

  He’d had been forced to invest in one nice suit the year before, when he’d snuck into a society wedding at a hotel in a successful attempt to take exclusive pictures. They had netted him twenty thousand dollars, a clear profit over his thousand-dollar Hugo Boss suit’s cost. But after that, the suit had gone back into his closet, carefully covered with a dry cleaning bag, and he was lucky it still fit.

  Kasee clearly approved of his classic choice in suiting. Her eyes
roved over him as she stood from the bench where she’d been waiting. “It’s a cliché, but you sure clean up nice,” she said, her voice cheery.

  He was glad he’d chosen well. “You look very nice yourself.” She wore an outrageous pair of high, gold-beaded stilettos with a little black dress that had a flounce at the bottom giving teasing glances of her toned thighs. The woven gold necklace she wore with a diamond detail at her throat probably cost at least what he’d made at that wedding. Kasee Kean was one expensive woman.

  A man in jeans with a three-day scruff on his face came up to them. Behind him was a dreadlocked, bean-pole of a woman holding mic packs. “Let’s get you ready.”

  “Does the rest of the cast know we’re coming, Brock?” Kasee asked.

  The man shook his head. “Not a one, so you’d better get maximum mileage out of this.”

  “Hey, I know my life is on the line. Make sure the camera operators get all the double takes.”

  “Hey, who is the professional here?” Brock said, but in good humor, as the assistant hooked up Dion’s mic pack.

  Kasee’s bulged at the back of her dress, attached to her bra, but his was able to be hidden in his suit. When they were done, the producer nodded satisfaction and led them through the bar to the back of the restaurant, where the private event room was.

  “Who will be there?” Dion asked, wishing he’d thought to initiate a phone call to her so he’d be better prepared.

  “Keith and Tammy, of course, my ex and my ex-best friend who married the jerk,” she whispered. “The other three Ladies of Baltimore are Juliette Hink, Amber Bohl, and Stephanie Steele.”

  “Stephanie is the sista, right?”

  “Yes. Amber and Tammy are the youngest, I’m the next oldest, and Juliette is thirty-nine. They are all married. Juliette and Amber have doctor husbands, and Stephanie just filed for divorce from her husband, who owns a landscaping company.” She leaned into his ear. “I don’t think he was grand enough once she made it onto the show.”

  The assistant’s dreadlocks brushed Dion’s cheek as she leaned in front of him and opened the double doors of the private room. A camera crew came out of nowhere to shoot them from the right as he and Kasee stared into the room.