What a Woman Wants

by Brenda Jackson

  She grinned. “Yes, doctor.”

  He glanced down at her feet. “Your shoelace is untied. Put your hand on my shoulder, lean in, and lift your foot up to me.”

  “I can tie it.”

  “It’s no problem for me to do it, Nicky.” Deciding they would be wasting time arguing about it, she placed her hand on his shoulder and lifted her foot up to him like he’d asked. “Umm, nice leg.”

  She barely heard what he’d said. Her concentration was focusing on the feel of his skin underneath her fingertips. It felt warm as well as solid. And then there was the spicy male scent that clung to him. Lyle Montgomery was one enticing male.

  “Okay, you’re good to go now.” His words snapped her back to attention. It made her realize where her thoughts had been. For crying out loud, this wasn’t just any other man. This was Lyle, the guy who used to be Arnie’s best friend, his ace-boon-koon, in college. What in the heck was wrong with her today? What had been wrong with her ever since they started jogging together?

  “Thanks, Lyle,” she somehow managed to say, putting her foot back down.

  “Don’t mention it.” He then looped his arm through hers. “The beach awaits us,” he said, pulling her down the steps to where their feet hit the sand.

  By sheer effort, Monique made her body move as they jogged side by side, in perfect sync. Something was different this morning. Maybe it had been Faith’s reminding her last night of the crush she’d had on Lyle. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt, which made him much too sexy.

  As they continued running, she knew that in the end, about an hour from now, she would be all hot and bothered as well as hot and sweaty, but she couldn’t think of any other way she’d rather spend her mornings than with such a good-looking running partner.

  Shannon yawned as she pulled another outfit off the rack. If anyone had told her she would be shopping at the crack of dawn, she would have called them a liar. But here she was doing just that. She couldn’t believe she had actually walked out the door before Faith got up just to be at this shop when it opened at nine o’clock.

  Monique had whipped by her on the way out to jog and had taken only the time to tell her that Faith was cooking dinner and had invited a guest—some woman who lived next door. That was fine with Shannon. Faith was a whiz in the kitchen, and if cooking rocked her boat and she wanted to impress her parents’ neighbor, then let her go for it.

  Now back to the business at hand. She looked down at the outfits already slung over her arms, items meant to entice, arouse, and stimulate even the most resistant mind. For the past couple of days she had spent her time wondering what was there about Mr. Mechanic that pushed all her buttons. Just thinking about what she had planned sent a subtle shiver through her body. This would be the first fling that she herself had initiated. In the past, the men did all the work, and if they met with her extreme satisfaction then so be it. After a brief period, they would part ways. She was never left with a reason to ever look one of them up again and vice versa. A fling was just was it was meant to be, a fling.

  “Do you want me to hold those for you, miss?”

  Shannon’s thoughts were interrupted by the saleswoman’s question. “Yes, please. I intend to get a couple of more items.”

  “Oh, take your time.”

  Shannon smiled. And she intended to, even tonight when she showed up at the mechanic’s apartment over the garage she planned on taking her time. Boy, would he be surprised. But she had yet to know a man to turn down a thrilling and sensual rendezvous if it was presented to him in the right way—and as she pulled another outfit off the rack, she considered herself the mistress of innovations.

  “I’m glad to see you weren’t a figment of my imagination that day.”

  Faith turned to see if the statement had been directed to her, and when she saw that it was, she blinked. She’d never considered the produce section of any store as a place men would try to pick up women, but evidently she had underestimated the opposite sex— this was the second time in weeks that it had happened to her.

  She sighed. All things considered, she was glad the person staring at her with intense dark eyes was not the young kid from that other day. No, this was a man in every sense of the word. He’d made the statement as if he’d seen her before, but she knew for a fact she had never seen him. He was not a man any woman would forget easily—or at all. To say he exhibited an overwhelming presence would be an understatement.

  It had been a long time since her adrenaline was acting up to the point where she could actually feel the pulse beat in her neck. And when was the last time just looking at a man made heat pool in the area between her legs? He had to be over six feet tall and then some. His skin tone was the color of rich chocolate. He had a straight nose, lips you probably could die from kissing, and to top things off, there was a dimple in his chin. Of all the nerve. That in itself caught her attention when he smiled, and he was smiling ... at her.

  Okay, she had a choice. She could ignore him or she could choose ... not to ignore him. The decision was quick and easy. She would not ignore him. She would go along with this game men liked to play whenever they thought they had an easy mark within their scope. In the end she would show him that although she was in awe of the package, she had a level head on her shoulders and wasn’t a woman easily swayed by a handsome face.

  “Am I supposed to know you?” she asked, placing the bag of lemons for the lemonade she intended to serve with dinner in her buggy.

  He leaned against the display of cabbage. “No, we haven’t officially met yet, but I saw you one day, a week or so ago. You were at this same store in the parking lot and were coming when I was leaving. I watched you get out of your car.”

  “Oh.”

  “Now, I’d like to introduce myself,” he said, straightening his form and coming to stand in front of her. At five-eight she wasn’t considered short by any means, and he did a job of towering over her. He held out his hand. “I’m Shane Masters.”

  Shane Masters. For some reason she liked that name. It sounded... sexy. “And I’m Faith Gilmore,” she said, placing her hand in his and immediately feeling the warmth, the texture, the strength of his grip.

  She thought about easing her hand back, but that was before she began drowning in the darkness of his gaze. Oh, he was good. If his smooth words didn’t get you, then those eyes of his definitely would. After Virgil she should be immune to the antics of a handsome man. Evidently she wasn’t. She swallowed hard. It wasn’t her fault she was a traditional girl and still wanted to hold on to those values.

  Once upon a time she’d longed to be sexually liberated like Shannon, but that lifestyle wasn’t really for her. In her book, the ideal situation was when you met someone, got real close to him, then after a while had sex ... and maybe if the timing was right, fell in love and eventually got married.

  Even though things hadn’t worked out with Virgil, she still wanted to believe in happily ever after. If she didn’t, she would turn into another Shannon, and the very thought of that was downright scary. That was probably the reason the men she went out with since she’d emerged back on the dating scene a few years ago were stable, serious-minded, with relationship potential. She tried staying away from those who were only looking for flings or had commitment issues. She had a feeling the man standing in front of her was only interested in a fling.

  “So are you an islander?” she asked, deciding it was time to reclaim her hand, and so that it wouldn’t look so obvious she was doing so, she slid it out of his as she turned to study the squash—not that she was really interested in the yellow beastly things. They were her least-liked vegetable.

  “For the time being. I recently purchased a vacation home here but still have a place in Michigan. What about you?”

  “A couple of girlfriends and I decided this is the place we wanted to be this summer, since it’s where we met years ago in our early teens. Our families would come here for two weeks every year.”
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br />   He smiled. “Boy, weren’t you the lucky ones. But then I wasn’t too far away. My family is from Savannah.”

  “That’s a beautiful city.”

  “Thanks, and I would have to agree.” He leaned over and picked up a squash and Faith couldn’t help noticing how he held it in his hand: tight but not overly so. She then watched how his thumb rubbed against the hard rind surface, and she found herself staring, imagining. . . .

  “You enjoy cooking, I see.”

  His statement made her glance back into his face, where she was once again snagged by his eyes. She swallowed. “What makes you think that?”

  He smiled again. “The amount of food in your buggy.”

  He had her there. “I like cooking when the mood hits,” she explained.

  “And the mood has hit?”

  “Yes.” She wondered if he was hinting at an invite for dinner. If that was the case, then he could forget it. It was going to be an all-girls night with her parents’ neighbor. No males allowed, and definitely not one who was a total stranger.

  Faith could feel his gaze on her when she bent over to check out the heads of iceberg lettuce. She wished to God she could ignore the man, but there was something about him that stirred all kinds of reactions in her. She was even feeling breathless, and no man, not even Virgil, had made her feel breathless before.

  Deciding it was time to end their little chat, she glanced over at him and said, “Well, I don’t want to hold you up from doing your own shopping.”

  “You’re not. I just came in to grab a six-pack.”

  “What about dinner?” she regretted asking the moment the words tumbled from her mouth.

  “I have a freezer full of those microwave dinners. That’s all I need.” When she didn’t say anything to that, he then asked, “So how long will you be on the island?” He fixed her with that deep, dark stare again.

  After placing a head of lettuce in her buggy, she moved on to the tomatoes before saying, “Another three to four weeks.”

  “Now isn’t that a coincidence, same here before I head back to Detroit for a while,” he said. “Since we’re both going to be here for almost another month, how about if we—?”

  At that moment her cell phone rang and she quickly reached into her purse and pulled it out thinking, Saved by the bell. He’d been about to suggest that they hang out or something, and she wasn’t in the mood to do that. This was her summer to do what she wanted, and what she wanted didn’t include a man, at least not in the sense she knew he was interested. Men always thought below the belt.

  “Hello,” she said in the phone.

  “Where are you?” she could hear Shannon ask on the other end. “I need your opinion about something.”

  “About what?”

  “An outfit I plan to wear later this evening.”

  Faith sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re still out shopping.”

  “Yes, but I’m headed back to the beach house now.”

  “All right, hang tight. I’ll be there in a minute.” Faith then clicked off the phone and looked over at Shane. “Well, grocery shopping must come to an end for now. It was nice meeting you, Shane.”

  “Trust me when I say the pleasure was mine, Faith. Take care, and I hope you enjoy the remainder of your stay on the island.”

  She smiled. “And I hope you enjoy the rest of yours as well.”

  Gripping the handle of the buggy firmly in her hand, she pushed it past him and toward the checkout counter. And unlike the last time she had left a male in the produce section staring at her, she knew Shane Masters was one she wouldn’t be forgetting any time soon.

  8

  Faith’s instincts had been right. Adrianna Ross-Fuller was the type of person who was able to blend in well and get along with just about anybody, even someone who could be as standoffish as Shannon. Adrianna had even suggested they call her Anna like her family and friends did.

  Not that Faith wanted to brag, but dinner had been great, and now they were sitting outside on the screened porch watching the waves from the ocean while sipping wine.

  A shiver ran through her. She couldn’t keep her mind off Shane Masters. He had certainly been dominating her thoughts—even while she’d been cooking, which was another first. In the kitchen, the ingredients she would be using had always been foremost as she went about preparing what she wanted to be a mouthwatering meal. But for the two hours she’d spent in the kitchen, the only mouthwatering thing she could think about was Shane Masters.

  “So, Anna, your grandmother’s side of the family actually owned land on this island? Back in the day?” Monique asked, reclaiming Faith’s attention to the conversation going on.

  Anna smiled. “Yes, that’s how I got the beach house. Part of this new subdivision was built on land my family owned and later sold to the developers.” Anna was proud of her family’s history. It was history that had been shared with her since becoming an acknowledged member of the family.

  “Hilton Head is home to Mitchellville, organized in 1862 as one of the first settlements of free blacks in this country,” Anna continued. “In fact, before the developers came, most of the sea islands, since the eighteen hundreds, were the home of free black men who formed a number of communities. These communities consisted of farmers, basket weavers, and fishnet makers. During that time the Gullah culture was still preserved,” she added.

  Monique lifted a brow. “What’s Gullah?”

  Anna smiled. “The Gullah was a strong group of African Americans, many of whom were born on the sea islands like Hilton Head, who spoke the Gullah dialect. My family did manage to retain possession of one island, Glendale Shores. It’s where my paternal grandfather was born and is across the water a ways from here. All of us have agreed not to sell out, although developers have tried twisting our arms to do so. But that’s before they came up against my uncle, Randolph Fuller. Once they do, then they—”

  “Whoa, wait a minute,” Shannon interrupted. “Are you saying the Randolph Fuller is a relative of yours?”

  Anna smiled proudly. “Yes, he’s my uncle, my father’s brother. Do you know him?”

  Shannon shook her head, grinning. “No, but I’ve heard of him. Who hasn’t? He is and always has been an attorney extraordinaire. I used to hear my parents sing his praises all the time. He’s made history several times by winning a number of high-profile cases.”

  Anna looked pleased. “Yes, he has.”

  “You’re part Vietnamese, right?” Faith asked. She thought Anna was simply beautiful with her medium brown skin, almond eyes, and mane of long, gorgeous black hair.

  Anna took a sip of her wine before answering. “Yes, my father fought in the Vietnam War and eventually lost his life over there. Before he died, he married my mother.” She decided now wasn’t the time to share too much of her family history, especially not the part about where she had been separated from them for thirty-something years, thinking they wanted nothing to do with her. That was a part of her past she was trying to put behind her. The person who’d been responsible, a woman by the name of Angela who’d once been married to her uncle Randolph, hadn’t been operating with a full deck. Angela eventually really went off the deep end when her and Randolph’s son, Trey, married the daughter of a woman Angela despised.

  “So are the three of you enjoying your vacations so far?” Anna asked, to keep the conversation flowing. It had been a long time since she’d allowed herself time to just sit back and chill and had been grateful for Faith’s invitation to dinner. She had met Faith’s parents last year, and all they’d talked about was the daughter they were proud of. Besides, engaging in conversation kept her mind away from the fact that Zach would be arriving in a week or so. She had taken some time off work. The Fourth of July was coming up, and they would be joining the others at Glendale Shores.

  “Well, I’ve enjoyed our get-together,” Shannon said, standing and glancing at her watch. “But I have somewhere to go.”

  She turned to Anna and smiled
. “It was nice meeting you, Anna, and I can’t wait to tell my parents that I met Randolph Fuller’s niece.”

  Anna leaned back in her chair and returned Shannon’s smile. “It was nice meeting you as well.”

  Shannon made a quick escape into the house, and Anna couldn’t help noticing the worried expression Faith and Monique shared.

  A half hour later, Shannon saw that the auto repair shop was closed. Evidently they ended their workday early on Wednesdays. She weighed her options. She could either go back home and try this seduction thing tomorrow or she could get out of her car and check to see if perhaps the person she was looking for was still there— namely the mechanic who had more than stirred her interest. Since he lived over the garage, there was that possibility he was home. But what if he had a girlfriend in residence? Things could get ugly if that were the case. But then he didn’t have a ring on his finger, so in her book he was still fair game.

  Making a quick decision, she got out of the car and walked over to the thick glass-paned window and peeped in. She dragged in a deep breath when she saw that although the garage was closed, the mechanic was still there and working on that same car. She glanced down at herself. She would be the first to admit that on any other woman the dress she was wearing would probably look somewhat sleazy with so much skin showing. But she thought that on her it looked right.. . considering what she needed it for.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she tapped on the window. In fact, she did it several times before he finally pulled his head from underneath the hood of the car and glanced her way with an agitated frown. He stared, leaning against the car for a moment as if trying to figure out who she was and what she wanted. She knew the exact moment he recognized her as the woman from last week. He tossed the wrench he’d been holding in his hand aside and began walking toward the huge garage door that was connected to the bay he was working in.

  Her breath caught when the door rolled up and he was there, standing in front of her. The scent of a sweaty man filled her nostrils, and she raked her gaze over him, taking in the grease-smeared T-shirt and the well-worn jeans. Another thing she noticed was that he had a beer can in his hand. She returned her look to his face and noticed the beautiful dark eyes that were boring into hers. The heat that suddenly flushed between her legs was like a blast from a furnace.