by Yvette Hines
Designed for Love
Yvette Hines
Warning
This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. This material is meant for mature audiences!
Also by Yvette Hines
Santa’s Helper
Speed Dating
The Marriage Clause
One Reckless Night
Holiday Affair
Take This Man
Golden Treasure
Ho, Ho, Ho and a Dom
Bet on a Mistletoe
Making the Man
Lady Justice
Trusting St. Nick
Shot at Love
Internet Rebound
Holiday Fantasy
Timberon Cat Series
Apprehension Series
Designed for Love
A Whispers Publishing Publication
April 15, 2011
Copyright © 2011 Yvette Hines
Cover illustration copyright © Anistasia Rabiyah
ISBN Not Assigned
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the Web-without permission in writing from the publisher.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
Published by: Whispers Publishing, P.O. Box 1165, Ladson, SC 29456-1165.
DESIGNED FOR LOVE
By
Yvette Hines
Dedication
Babe, you are always there for me, laughing and listening to my nutty ideas then saying, “It sounds good to me”. Thanks. To Bridget and Amy, nothin’ like a little supportive harassment all the way around. Eileen, for all the great cups of coffee and ears you gave, they’re very much appreciated.
Chapter One
Oh, shit! That was Chelsi’s first thought as she guided her grocery cart around the corner of the dairy aisle in haste. The line had about fifteen customers in it, and there was only one lane open. It figures. Where all the people had come from in the ten minutes she had been inside the market place, she didn’t know.
It was in the middle of the day, and her plan to run to the store to pick up sustenance before she starved to death in her condo was failing drastically. She didn’t need this. She was on deadline, and nothing else mattered but getting back to her sketches which were scattered all around her place from the dining room table to the living room, where they had been collecting for the last three days.
Each slow step she took was deliberate. As she pushed her basket of ten items towards the register, she continued to glance around. She was hoping that a manager or someone would call for another lane to be open.
Damn, I don’t have time for this.
A movement drew her gaze as she moved closer to lane four where fourteen people waited in line with an amazingly slow cashier. A baby sitting in a cart tossed out a jar of something towards the floor, but instead of the loud shatter of it striking the tile, the quick hand of the customer behind mom and baby caught it.
“No, Jeannie!” The mother screamed as she rounded the cart and grabbed her daughter who wore a cute pink jumper and red sticky face.
The man returned to his full height and gave the jar to the mother. It gave Chelsi a chance to notice him, not only because he was tall, at least six four, but his attire held her transfixed. He wore an impressive tailored navy blue suit with pink pinstripes, a European cut that molded the strong lines of his body. It didn’t hang on him as if it were tailored using a clothing dummy. No, that suit draped along his form like it was supposed to, caressing every muscle as he moved. He and the suit became one and pleasing to the eye.
Chelsi assessed him. He’d stood to be measured and fitted for that suit, or it was from a tailor that knew his measurements well. Someone who could create the exact image the designer wanted to display—success, power, and confidence. A man had to be confident to wear pink.
Nothing about the man’s clothing struck Chelsi as odd; it fascinated and awed her. Hell, she was a clothing designer after all, and she admired apparel and materials like a horny woman would a collection of sex toys. It was arousing.
“Ohmygod, thank you.” The mother oozed with relief as she thanked the man.
“You’re welcome.” A raspy timber, subtle and captivating like a feather tickling your ear, was the voice that came out of the man. It wasn’t one of those deep Barry White type sounds but masculine nonetheless. The kind of voice that made a woman trust him, non-threatening but no less seductive, bringing visions of lying in bed and having him whisper sexy dirty things in ear.
Oh, God, I’ve been alone in my condo for too long.
“Impressive.” The woman standing behind him in some green knock-off DKNY Boat neck dress giggled and smiled. She flipped her dye-me-red number five, stringy, thin hair off her shoulder as she leaned into the man.
Miss Obvious in lane four. Chelsi barely stopped herself from laughing out loud, but she allowed herself the luxury of rolling her eyes toward the ceiling for a moment.
Mister tailored and dangerous turned to say something to the woman who was practically breathing on his neck. His jet-black wavy hair was complimented by thick long lashes that outlined breathtaking pool blue eyes and a face that could have belonged to an archangel. Kind and strong.
Chelsi didn’t hear a word of what he said because her world stopped, her breathing halted, her ears clogged like she’d gone too high up the side of a mountain, and her vision tunneled, centering on the man’s face.
Vincent Poindexter stood less than twenty feet away from her, giving a sexy smile to the fake chick preening for his attention.
Damn it. This couldn’t be happening. Chelsi took evasive action and darted to her left down the aisle. She could care less about the pet items and paper products stacked on the shelves in that area. Oh, no. Her mind was on the man behind her, a man who’d risen from her past like a phoenix from the ocean. Changed. Different. Amazing.
She hustled down the aisle and away from Vincent and his admirer, her mind flooded with images of him and how he looked. Gorgeous and sexy.
But that didn’t fit with the Vincent Poindexter she had known in high school. The guy that was kind, funny and a geek. Poindexter had been the perfect last name for the tall, lanky nerd who wore glasses, off colored striped shirts, a pocket protector, and was president of the math club and co-captain of their school’s debate team. The one who’d been her high school sweetheart.
Chelsi’s feet halted by the end cap a good distance away from the line of customers. Her knees were going to buckle; she just knew it. Then she’d be embarrassed if someone had to call out on the loud speaker “fainter on the pet/paper aisle”.
She’d loved Vincent with all of her heart. They’d been nominated the most unusual couple. Back then she didn’t care what he looked like or what others had thought of him. He’d been her math tutor in the eleventh grade, helping her in economics class, and his gentleness and patience stole her heart.
She’d dealt with the jeers and taunting from her peers who thought she was planning some big prank being with him. Soon other teens realized they were truly an item and kept their jokes to a minimum.
Now, the joke was on her. Chelsi glanced down at what she was wearing. She didn’t even look as good as Miss Knock-off. After three days of designing one sketch after another for a major contract her comp
any was vying for, she had barely slept, food had come at a nibble here and a nibble there, and water on any part of her body hadn’t been a thought at all until forty-five minutes ago. That was the only thing she could say she did for the sole courtesy of the general public of Charlotte.
After cleaning everything from the face down, she’d tossed on her old college t-shirt that was three sizes too big, usually for the purpose of sleeping in it, and slipped on a pair of cut off jeans that she normally only donned for spring cleaning her condo. A hapless knot wrangled her hair into one area of her head, and her only touch of class was her Stacie Bass blue peacock designer flip-flops which didn’t match her wretched color scheme at all.
The last thing anyone would think if they saw her now was that she was second artist to a top designer. She’d worked with the best in Atlanta and New York before joining her current boss, and when the head designer of Densa Fashions decided to move their home office to North Carolina, she’d been happy to come home.
Inhaling substantial amounts of oxygen, Chelsi moved down the back of the store until she reached the aisle where the line of customers bled into, hoping she would see that Vincent had purchased his hand basket of items and was gone. Spotting the top of his thick, neatly trimmed black hair clearly above the other customers, she could see she was not going to be so lucky.
Thank goodness he had at least resumed facing forward and was no longer talking to the woman behind him. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket to check the time. She had less than twenty minutes before she needed to get back home for the scheduled conference call with her boss and the other members of their design team.
They were striving hard to win a big clothing line contract which was why she was working from home. Her boss knew if he wanted her best on a project this big and new then she needed silence and her own environment. There were four days left before they had to present.
She couldn’t stand back here and wait Vincent out, and she couldn’t leave her cart and sneak away either. Her stomach growled, reminding her that her cupboards were bare. Slow and steady, she pushed her cart until she arrived behind the last person in line and four people away from Vincent. Leaning on her forearms on the handle of the basket, she kept her head down, only occasionally peeping at him.
He looked really good. His body had filled out. Now there was meat covering his once lanky frame. Maybe she should say muscle by the cut of his suit and his broad shoulders. No padding there. She admired the way he still held himself—tall and confident.
Even as a dorky teenager, Vincent had walked with pride in his stride. It had been one of the things classmates teased him about. He’d moved through the halls like he knew he was going to be somebody important one day. Evidently, he’d been right.
Had he moved back to Charlotte as well? Nowadays, everyone was moving to Charlotte. It was one of the fastest growing cities on the East Coast.
Man, if she was going to run into him, why couldn’t it be on a day she didn’t have three days growth of stubble on her legs or she had on a little make-up? In her memory of rushing out of her house, she vaguely recalled passing some ChapStick over her lips.
Finally, Vincent paid the slow cashier who had to be all of twenty, if she wasn’t nineteen, standing there chatting him up with her bleached snow white hair with fluorescent pink tips. The girl ooh’d and ahh’d at everything he said, echoed by Miss Knock-off behind him who was trying once again for his attention.
Taking his change, he gave a dazzling smile to the cashier and headed out the door. Once the automatic doors slid closed behind him, Chelsi breathed easier. She was home free now.
Amazingly, at that time, another lane opened up, and she made a mad dash to it, not caring what people thought of her. This older lady was fast and efficient, except for the “hello, did you find everything you needed today?” question, she remained silent. While Lexi continued to chat up the costumers in the lane next to her.
When Chelsi’s total came up, she had her card at the ready and swiped it quickly.
“Excuse me, Lexi, you gave me too much change.”
Oh, God, no!
Chelsi claimed her receipt and grabbed her bags as she looked up at the man she’d been trying to avoid for the last fifteen minutes. All of it had been for nothing because he stared directly at her while he handed “Chatty Lexi” a twenty dollar bill.
“Thanks.” Lexi smiled and batted her mascara thick lashes as she took the money. Chelsi wouldn’t put it past Lexi to have given him the money purposely so that he would come back in.
Vincent gave the cashier an absent nod but didn’t take his eyes off Chelsi. “Chelsi Halifax.”
“Hi, Vincent.” The thought of pretending as if she didn’t know who he was never entered her mind. She felt just as giddy and flushed as she had the first day he’d sat down beside her in the library to tutor her. It had confounded her then as it did now.
“It’s really good to see you.”
Why did he have to say that? It just reminded her that she was not dressed for reunions. “Hhm, yea…”
“Excuse me.” The customer in line bumped her out of the way as he squeezed by her.
Stumbling forward, Chelsi felt the warmth of Vincent’s hand as he caught her arm, keeping her from looking any more like an idiot. Goodness, he smelled good.
Gone was the sporty fresh scent from years past. Now he smelled male. That was the best way she could describe the rich, spicy scent. It was almost animalistic. It brought to her mind images of wild animals mating in the forest, uninhibited. She could plainly understand why all the women were falling over themselves to get his attention. Vincent was a large walking pheromone.
It was no wonder he made her body feel as if she’d gone into heat just being a foot away from him with his hand holding her arm. The urge to throw herself in his arms, wrap her legs around his waist, and beg him to satisfy her was ridiculous.
“I…I-um, it’s good to see you, too.” She stared at his face. With no glasses blocking his features, he was captivating. Laboring to breathe as if someone had ciphered out her oxygen, she stepped back, causing him to drop his hand. “You look great. Really good.”
A devastating smile played across his lips.
His body, scent, those eyes, and a dangerous smile. She needed to get out of there, quickly. “I really, need to be going…”
Turning, she rushed from the store.
“Wait,” he called, easily matching his long strides to hers as he continued to talk. “I can’t believe you’re back in Charlotte. Are you visiting, or do you live here? Is your place close?”
The faster she moved, the quicker his questions shot at her. Bursting out of the automatic doors, Chelsi glanced at him from the side. “Yeah, sorta.”
“Sort of? When did you get back?” He grabbed her arm again when they were in the front of the store, restraining her.
Had he been keeping tabs on her? Probably not. Most likely he was asking because the last time they’d seen each other, she was headed to New York City to design school. “I’ve been here for a while. Have you been here since leaving college?”
“N…o…o.” His thumb caressed her elbow.
That simple touch caused a flame to radiate up her arm and to her nipples, and they tightened in response. The urge to cross her arm over her chest and hide them or to press her hands against them to quell the sensation was overpowering. In all her fantasies of seeing him again, she had always imagined that her attraction to him would be the same as when they were teenagers, but it wasn’t. This. Whatever this was, it was more powerful. Way more powerful.
“Look I’d like to catch up. Maybe have dinner?” His hand slipped down from her elbow to her hand, holding it.
Oh, God. Did she really want to “catch up”? Discover how he was doing? Maybe find out that he had a wife and children? Her chest tightened, causing her fingertips to tingle. All of a sudden she felt cold standing outside in the summer heat.
“Mr. Poindexter,
we really need to leave now, or you’ll miss your flight.” A man spoke from a distance behind them.
Chelsi looked around Vincent’s broad shoulders and discovered just how oblivious she became to everything else around her when he was near. Behind him, closer to the other door of the grocery store, but still within sight, was a pearl white stretch limo.
“One minute, Thomas.” Vincent called out without even looking at the man. “How about that dinner, Chelsi?”
She stared at him again. What kind of man was he to ride in a limo to the store? Oh, God. This was a pity request. If he was rolling around the world with a driver and a vehicle that ten people could fit in comfortably, there was nothing he could want from her. Especially dressed as she was in her current ensemble. Shaking her head, Chelsi reminded herself that she was on deadline. She did not have time to play catch up. She was trying for what could possibly be the contract of the year.
At that moment, her alarm on her cell phone rang. Pulling her hand out of his, she dug into the back pocket of her worn cut-offs and looked at it.
Conference Call in 15 mins, flashed on the screen of her handheld. She pushed the button to turn the obnoxious beeping off.
“I’m sorry; I need to go.” She stepped back.
Vincent followed her step, keeping them close. “Chelsi, when can—”
“This isn’t a good time.” Holding one hand up to ward off his advancement, she clenched her fist around her two recycle bags in her other hand and shuffled back. “Nice to see you again.”
“Chelsi!”
Giving him one last look, she turned and rushed to her car, praying that he wasn’t watching her backend. It was a long way from the shape it was in when she was on the drill and dance team in high school.
Getting to her car, she activated the automatic unlock, slipped in behind the wheel, and started the engine in one motion. Driving away, she allowed herself one last look at him through her rearview mirror. He still stood at the tail end of his limo, staring in her retreating direction.
