Designed for Love

by Yvette Hines

  Giving him the six digit verification number, she approved Vincent’s entrance.

  Then just as quickly, Vincent was back on the phone. “I will see you in two minutes.”

  Reality hit her at his words. Damnit, he would be pulling up, and she still needed to shower and change. “I’m not ready,” she rattled on. “I’ll leave the door unlocked. Just come in. I need ten solid minutes to get ready.” Leaping off the couch, she unbolted her door then dashed down the hall to her bedroom. After closing the door to her room, she flung open her closet doors.

  “I’m sure you look gorgeous now, but you can have the ten minutes.”

  Chelsi heard the echo of a car door shutting through the phone. “Thanks. Hanging up now.”

  “See you soon.”

  That deliciously husky voice played with her senses as she hung up and tossed her cell onto her bed. It didn’t help knowing he was just on the other side of her room door. Inside her condo.

  She didn’t know where they were going. Groaning, she knew she should have asked. Oh, well. She pulled a pale blue crepe drop-waist dress from their Bally collection. The sequin rose stitched across one shoulder made it appropriate for a nice restaurant, but the lightweight material made it comfortable enough for mid-grade dinning.

  Hanging the garment up on the door frame of the closest, she stripped and went into the bathroom. Not wanting to waste too much time, she twisted and clipped her hair high on her head to keep it from getting wet before she stepped into the shower. She didn’t have time to flat iron it if it frizzed.

  The blast of cold water shocked her body, but there wasn’t a moment to spare. As she bathed quickly, she was grateful she’d treated herself to a trip to the spa Wednesday night after they got the contract so all essential areas from ankle to armpits were smooth.

  Shutting off the water, she jumped out and ran the towel along her body in a brisk fashion that caused her skin to have a deeper red glow than normal. Lotion was next. She briefly paused to consider her scent and decided on the honey melon. It was light and sweet, a great scent for “friends”, she told herself. The last thing she wanted to do was make too much of this evening. It was just a birthday dinner with an old friend. Old lover, her heart chimed in.

  She chose to ignore it. After she dressed, she applied a little mascara, a brush stroke or two of eye shadow, and a coat of lip gloss over her lips. Staring at herself in the mirror, she brushed her hair down and groaned. There wasn’t much she could do with it in the minute she had left. She couldn’t leave it down because of the big dent in it from the band that had held it up all day in a ponytail. Instead, she re-twisted it and used a silver clip to hold it in place.

  After exiting the bathroom, she slid her feet into a pair of silver sandals and grabbed the matching clutch purse, tossed in her cell, and took a deep, calming breath. With one hand on the door, she could feel her heart racing. She would’ve loved to blame it all on the fact she’d taken an hour’s job and performed it in ten minutes, but she knew that had very little to do with it. There was only one thing—one person—that made her feel this flustered and excited at the same time. That person was on the other side of the door waiting to take her out.

  No more time to waste. She opened the door.

  Vincent was leaning against the wall between the kitchen and the living room. His position gave him a perfect vantage point, seeing her as soon as she came out her room.

  “You look beautiful, Chelsi.” He stepped away from the wall as his gaze moved from her face and did a slow scan of her body.

  The heat from his look made her body tingle as though he were caressing her skin as she moved up the hall. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

  “Thank you.” She admired the way his gray slacks clung to his thighs, his jacket draped over his broad shoulders in a way that made her want to lean against him, and the crisp white shirt he wore accentuated the soft tan of his skin. He was a strikingly good-looking man from head to toe. Evidently they were not going anywhere fancy because he wore no tie and his first two buttons were undone. “You look great as well.”

  He smiled. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes, I just need to grab my wallet,” she confirmed. Going over to the couch, she dug into her satchel and removed the small pouch that held her license and credit card and put it in her purse. Her keys were the last thing she picked up from the coffee table. “Ready now.” She met him at the door.

  Vincent stepped to her and, cupping her face, he kissed her lightly. “Happy birthday, Chelsi. Thank you for agreeing to have dinner with me.” His breath fluttered across her lips and kicked her heart into high speed again.

  “You’re welcome.” She was breathless.

  Smiling, he lowered his hand and opened her front door. As they walked to the car, she was happy to see there was no limo in the parking lot. Instead, he escorted her to a four door Bentley the same color as his limo.

  “Why does it seem like there should be a driver with this car?” She joked with him as she slipped in the passenger seat.

  “Probably, but he’s off waxing the limo.” He winked at her. Securing her door, he moved around to his side and got in behind the wheel.

  “For a man who takes a limo to the grocery store, I didn’t think you still remembered how to drive.” She loved teasing him. This was light and easy. Allowing her to think of him as just a friend, nothing more.

  Laughing, he said, “That was an exception. However, I had to have something.” He started the car and maneuvered it out of the visitor’s parking, heading out the gate as the same rhythmic jazz music she’d heard through the phone earlier filled the car.

  “Almonds?” She looked at his profile. The sun hadn’t set yet, and she enjoyed taking in the site of his masculine features.

  He glanced at her then back at the road. “Yeah, almonds.”

  After that Chelsi fell silent, enjoying the ride. She wondered what Vincent had planned for this night. Being this close to him was wreaking havoc on her body, making her want things she shouldn’t. If she wasn’t careful, things between them would be moving in a direction she’d told herself repeatedly she didn’t want to go.

  Chapter Five

  “Where are we?” Chelsi frowned, looking out the window at the plush lawns, long drives, and the private golf course.

  “Piper Glen,” he informed her, making a right into an entryway.

  The thirty minute drive from her condo on the opposite side of Charlotte had been quiet and comfortable. Neither one of them had been willing to break the silence.

  He watched Chelsi stare through the glass at his neighborhood, taking it all in. She was a gorgeous woman, but tonight sitting beside him in a dress so sheer the lacy slip underneath showed, flirting with his senses, she was undeniably sexy. Seated, her dress rested high on her thighs, leaving a delicious view of her smooth silky brown legs. He’d had to keep his grip firmly on the wheel to keep him from touching her.

  Part of her attraction was her style. She always wore things that were flattering to her body and coloring. It wasn’t a shocker. Fashion was in her blood. It was even embossed on her licensed plate, I-DESIGN. Zeth had found it funny that Vincent hadn’t figured it out first by the time he’d called Vincent back with Chelsi’s number and address.

  “I know what area this is, but why are we here?”

  He continued to progress down the lane until he stopped on the smooth cobble drive. “It’s my house.” Glancing at the gray stone and the blond brick structure, he sat in awe alongside her. It never ceased to amaze him how far he’d come from the trailer park he was raised in.

  Chelsi’s eyes and mouth were both wide as she stared at his house. “Oh, my God…” her words drifted away. Then she looked from the house to him then back at the house. “I thought we were going to a restaurant.”

  “Nope, I’m cooking.” He unsnapped his seat belt and got out. Moving around to her side, he opened the door and offered his hand to her. Still in a daze, she clutched h
is hand. “When I travel, I have to eat out so much that I just want a home-cooked meal when I get home.”

  “And you cook it?” Her eyes squinted, giving him a suspicious look.

  “Most of the time. Unless I go to Zeth’s house and his wife Tamara feeds me.”

  Enjoying the feel of her soft hand in his own, he walked with her to the door and didn’t let go. Once inside, he asked, “Are hungry, or would you prefer the tour first?”

  The desire to take her up the marble staircase to his bedroom and make love to her assailed him. For a moment he considered that bringing her to his home may not have been the best idea. A restaurant would have been safer without the constant reminder that just above them was a room with a California king mattress available.

  Her stomach answered before her mouth with a growl, breaking the tension. Laughing, she rubbed her mid-section. “I guess food first is the request.”

  “Right this way.” Still holding her hand, he led her into his kitchen area. He liked the fact that she hadn’t attempted to remove her hand from his. Maybe she was becoming comfortable around him again.

  “You’re home is truly beautiful. How long have you owned it?” she asked, looking around as they passed through the living room with a wide glass door giving a view of his yard.

  “A few years, it took me a while to find the right place. You can sit here while I get dinner going.” He pulled out a chair at the table in the nook of the kitchen. He removed his suit jacket and draped it over the back of another chair and rolled up his shirt sleeves.

  Once she was settled, he moved to the refrigerator. He’d called his housekeeper, Linda, before he’d left Chicago with a list of items, in hopes that Chelsi would agree to go out with him. Taking out the paper-wrapped chicken cutlets he placed them on the counter. Next he grabbed a bunch of green grapes and pepper jack cheese and made her a small platter. Taking the dish to her, he said, “This should stave off the hunger long enough for me to get dinner ready.”

  “I’m not going to pass out or anything, Vincent.” She smiled as she stole a grape and popped it into her mouth.

  Hearing the sound of his name and seeing that beautiful smile sent heat throughout his body. “I just wanted to make sure.” He moved away quickly.

  “So tell me about how Vincent Poindexter became the boss man of Point Corporation.” She continued to nibble on her appetizer, alternating from cheese to grapes.

  “After college I got a job working in the acquisitions department in Chicago at Johnson and Peterson Corporation, a mid-level firm.” He cleaned, seasoned, and marinated the meat as he talked then placed it back in the refrigerator in a covered dish. Small red potatoes were next.

  He dropped them into a pot of water to boil while he continued, “After a few years being there, I left and started a few small business ventures of my own. Most of them didn’t pan out, I must admit. Not because they weren’t good ideas, but some problems were due to backing and others lack of experience on my part. Not knowing what to look for.”

  “I bet that was frustrating.” She was no longer eating, just sitting at the table with her long striking legs crossed, giving him her full attention.

  At that moment, his entire life and everything he’d accomplished felt like nothing. To the outside world he had everything financial a person could ask for to make them happy, but this was something he had missed in all of his aspirations, someone to sincerely listen to him. Not just anyone. Chelsi.

  Clearing his throat, he said, “It was, but also one learning experience after another.” After taking the zucchini out of the refrigerator, he washed and sliced it. Adding sea salt, black pepper, and a little garlic powder to the circles, he set them off to the side and turned on the grill.

  “How so?”

  “It taught me how to get involved in every aspect of my company. At first I would hire people to do the job and sit back waiting for updates on products and progress. I didn’t know enough to see if something was low cost because it was poor craftsmanship. After the third business failed, I learned to ask questions, do more research. Even though I left J and P, Mr. Johnson became a mentor to me. Someone I could go to for advice.”

  Those years he’d gotten close to Bryan Johnson, it had been nice having someone to confide in, especially since he’d never had a close relationship with his own parents. To his father, Keith Poindexter, if it wasn’t NASCAR, it didn’t matter.

  “I’m sure that meant a lot to you.” Chelsi voiced his thoughts.

  That wasn’t unusual. When they had dated, she’d always been a sensitive person, being able to understand him even when he didn’t express what he was feeling.

  “It did.” The grill was now ready. He got the potatoes out of the rapidly boiling water before they got too soft then cut them in half and treated them with the same seasoning combination as the zucchini.

  “Wasn’t Mr. Johnson concerned that as your knowledge and companies grew you would be a rival for him, possibly taking business away?”

  “J and P specialized in real-estate.” He moved from the island where he washed his hands to the refrigerator for the meat. Crossing the kitchen to the stove with the center grill, he removed the two pieces of chicken from the plate and placed them on the range. “They acquire and build hotels, apartments, houses, and casinos. I, on the other hand, enjoy building companies and working with the small American business owners.”

  They continued to discuss his company while he placed the potatoes then the zucchini on the grill around the cutlets and began his red wine mushroom sauce in a pan.

  “Do you talk to your family much?”

  Her question caused several emotions to rocket through his body—disappointment, pain, and anger. All the time he spent at Chelsi’s house the summer after graduation, he knew she was close with her parents and siblings. They had a warm and caring relationship. The same couldn’t be said for his household.

  His dad had worked for thirty years at a chicken farm and hated every day of it. Every evening he came home and took it out on his family. There were no beatings, but he yelled and screamed so many discouraging words it had always made Vincent wish his father had just hit him and shut-up.

  His mother hadn’t been any better. She’d always told him that getting pregnant with him had ruined her life because her parents forced her marry his dad.

  Looking behind him at Chelsi, he remembered what it was like when he visited her home. Being around the Halifax’s, where they cared and supported each other, always made him yearn for a loving family. A wife who listened and children to play games with, a home. He wanted it all.

  Turning back to the food, he stirred the sauce, flipped the chicken, and said, “No, I don’t contact my family. My dad died four years ago—”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” He heard the tapping of her shoes on the floor before he felt her presence beside him. Her hand rested on his shoulder.

  Turning, he looked at her. Seeing the sadness in her gaze made his chest tighten. Chelsi had always been sensitive. He wondered if her sorrow was for his father’s death or for him. Offering her a half-smile, he shrugged. “It’s okay. As you know we weren’t close, and I stopped mourning for him before I was a teenager.”

  She removed her hand but didn’t go back to her seat. Instead, she leaned back against the center island facing him. “What about mom? How is she? Still living?”

  “Yup. She lives in a retirement community in Arizona with her older sister. I pay her expenses and have a stipend set up for whatever else she wants to blow it on. As long as she has money, she has no reason to call. It works for us both.”

  Standing there so comfortable and casual in his kitchen, he couldn’t resist closing the gap between them. There was still a fair amount of sadness in her pretty, light brown eyes. Placing a hand on the counter on each side of her hips, he caged her in. He didn’t want her feeling pity for him. Testing her reaction, he stepped closer, allowing his body to brush hers, but not pressing against her. She d
idn’t bolt or reject him. Instead, her gaze caressed his face as she waited for his next move.

  “Happy Birthday, Chelsi,” he whispered, lowering his head to lightly touch her lips with his. He stopped there and waited, taking in her delicious sweet scent. There was no way he would pressure her for something she had no desire to give him.

  When her hand slid around the back of his head and she lifted her body to seal their lips together, his restraint broke, and he kissed her. Barely mindful of the food on the stove, he kept his hands gripped around the edge of the countertop as his tongue swept inside her mouth. He did it again, and her nails grazed the nape of his neck. That one simple touch rocked his core, making him ache with desire and causing his cock to rise.

  If he didn’t stop, the food would burn, and he’d be taking her on the heated marble floor. Pulling back, he stared in her eyes and noticed that every shadow of grief had been removed and replaced by a lust that mirrored his own.

  “Dinner is ready. Why don’t you take a seat?”

  Her hands slid from behind his head as he moved away, taking things off the stove and plating the items. He missed her touch, but spending time with her meant a lot to him. It didn’t just feed his need to make love to her but gave him peace.

  “Anywhere in particular?” she asked.

  “Let’s eat in the dining room. I don’t ordinarily use it, but it’s your special day, birthday girl.” When he noticed her looking from one entrance to the next, he said, “Through the archway to your left.”

  “Got it.” She smiled and left the room.

  Vincent sighed with relief. He needed the small amount of time it took to get all the food on the plates and pour them a glass of Australian Chardonnay to get his body in line with his head. Chelsi called out to him on a basic level, much stronger than when they were kids trying to figure out their bodies’ desires. Every time he was around her, he had to fight to not to take her in his arms and ravish her.