“Who is it?”
“Your protective neighbor.”
With a heavy sigh, she opened the door. Damien leaned against the frame, his shirt emphasizing his bulging muscles as if he were the center attraction at a school for models. He folded his arms across his wide chest. His familiar crooked grin warned her he wanted something she wasn’t going to like.
She gave him a hesitant smile. “Hello, Damien.”
“Have you eaten dinner yet?”
“No. Why?”
“Because I ordered Chinese, and you know they always bring too much. It’s sitting on my table as we speak. I thought you could help me eat it.”
She wanted to turn him down, but her grumbling stomach accepted before she had time to open her mouth and refuse.
He chuckled and glanced at her midsection. “Boy, I’ve never had such a quick response before.”
She smiled. “Okay, I’ll eat with you, but I have a feeling eating isn’t the only thing you have planned tonight.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “You have me pegged, mí amore.”
She nodded. “You know I’m not interested in that.”
He shook his head. “You have it all wrong. I’ve thought of a way you could pay me back for helping you last night. I have something to make you relax, yet at the same time it will give you pleasure.”
She gasped, her hand flying to her throat. “Of all the low-down, inconsiderate—”
He pulled on her arm until her hand dropped from her neck. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I want to try a new product from work on you.”
She crinkled her forehead. “What are you talking about?”
“I work at GIO Products, and we’re trying out a new product for women. I want you to be my guinea pig.”
“What’s the product?”
His gray eyes sparkled and he winked. “It’s a surprise. Now come on before the food gets cold.”
Her heart hammered. He grasped her elbow and led her to his townhouse. She’d actually get to see how the playboy lived. Although his intentions still made her leery, her palms were moist with anticipation. Just what did her gorgeous neighbor have planned for her tonight? Was she walking blindly like a sheep into the wolf’s den?
There was only one way to find out.
Three
Damien held his breath, waiting for her refusal. Since he’d met her six months ago, she’d been declining every invitation he offered. Of course, most of the time his offers weren’t what her goodie-two-shoes attitude wanted, which was his own fault. He knew what kind of woman she was. Although he teased her endlessly, he admired her for having morals and wanting more out of a relationship besides a one-night stand.
He sure loved to flirt with her, anyway. She was a very attractive woman; had the right curves and those hypnotic blue eyes could bring any man to his knees. And the cute way she became riled made her irresistible. She could make him laugh no matter what mood he was in. He especially enjoyed that. No other woman had been able to make him laugh like Cyndi could.
She grabbed her keys and locked the door, and then followed him to his townhouse. Two steps into his place, she sucked in her breath and her eyes grew wide.
Perhaps he should have warned her he’d just redecorated, but he wanted to see her reaction. Instead of the brown carpet like she had in her front room, his floor had large black and white domino-tiled shapes, instead.
She blinked. “Wow. What’s this? A miniature of the Taj Mahal?”
He chuckled. “Have you been to India and inside the Taj Mahal?”
“No, but I’ve seen pictures.”
He walked ahead of her, motioning with his hand for her to move into the living room. Her gaze snapped to a red chair with a beige cushion that stood against the wall. He really liked that particular chair because the back curved perfectly to fit a human form.
She shook her head. “I know I’ve never seen furniture like this before unless it’s been in a Dr. Seuss book.”
“That’s called a Pelican chair.” He nodded in the direction of her stare. “Christensen and Legaarct designed it, not Dr. Seuss.” He pointed to a cherry wood chair. “And that’s a Chieftain’s chair, made by Hansen and Sorensen.”
Her gaze rested on the final piece of furniture, a black and white sofa.
He pointed. “And that’s a Ross’ sofa, companioned with Ross’ coffee table. Notice how the brushed stainless steel legs have wooden toes. The veneered tabletop is also stainless steel and has matching vases.”
Turning her attention to him, she cocked her head. “Let me guess, Ross made them?”
He grinned. “No. Hansen and Sorensen.”
She nodded, her mouth twisting into a quirk. “Aw, that was my second guess.”
Paintings hung on his walls, too, but she didn’t ask him about those. She then turned her gaze to the assortment of potted plants scattered on shelves, and to the large pots sitting in the corners of the room.
She arched an eyebrow. “Why do you have so many plants?”
“GIO Products is starting a new line of herbal shampoos and conditioners. I’ve been studying plants lately, and most of these are for testing.”
She stood next to his couch, running her fingers along the edge. As much as he’d love to see her lounging across it, the overwhelming scents of Chinese food beckoned him to pull her toward the kitchen.
Just like his living room furniture, his brown and black dining room set was just as fancy.
“Did Hansen and Sorensen make this, too?” she asked.
“No. Nanna Ditzel did. This set is called a Tobago Café.”
She arched her eyebrow, her expression devoid of recognition. “Hmmm, I can see why.”
He chuckled, knowing she didn’t understand anything he had said.
The heavenly scent of Chinese food hung thick in the air. Her stomach growled noticeably, making him grin.
She inhaled and closed her eyes. “Um...what’s the specialty tonight?”
“I hope you like sweet and sour chicken and lo-mein noodles. There are also a couple of egg-rolls and fried prawns.”
She opened her eyes and stared at him. “Really? Are you kidding me?”
“I’m not kidding you. Why?”
She shrugged. “That dish just happens to be my favorite.”
Gladness swelled in his chest. At least they had the same taste in food. “Good, it’s mine, too.”
He moved to the chair and pulled it out. She gaped with wide eyes.
“What?” he asked.
“You...you pulled out the chair for me.”
“So?”
“So, most men don’t do that.”
He winked. “You’ll soon discover I’m not like most men.”
Tearing her stare away from him, she turned and planted her cute little backside on the chair. She wiggled on the seat.
“Well?” he asked. “What do you think? Is it comfortable?”
“Yes. It’s hard to believe, but it is.”
He turned to his cupboards and removed two plates, bringing them to the table. She closed her eyes and inhaled the sweet and sour scent he placed in front of her.
Did she know how lovely she looked right now sitting in his kitchen—ready to eat with him? It was as if she was meant to be here. He realized he had started liking her as more than just a neighbor a few months ago, but she was never interested. He wanted her to be. But with Cyndi, he’d have to take it slow. Obviously his charm hadn’t won her over yet, so he must choose a different path.
“So, who’s the new man in your life?”
She snapped her head toward him and glared. “What makes you think I have a new man in my life?”
He shrugged. “I saw you’d brought home a box of chocolates with you last night. I just assumed...”
“Well, you assumed wrong,” she snapped.
Inwardly, he groaned. He definitely didn’t want to upset her this early in the evening. He held up his hands in surrender. “Just trying t
o make small talk.”
She relaxed and drew in her claws. When she smiled, it softened his heart.
“I’m sorry I got upset. The truth is you’re not too far off. Although I don’t have a man in my life, I am trying.”
He walked back to the counter to fix his plate. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
She chuckled. “He’d been my high school crush. Now he works with me. His name is Max Harrington.”
Damien stopped his hand midway to the box of sweet and sour chicken, his breath catching in his throat. Did she just say the name of the man he’d been trying to forget since college?
He looked back at her. “Tall, blond, and built like a quarter-back? That Maxwell Harrington?”
She smiled. “You know him?”
His jaw hardened, his fingers tightening around the fork. “We were in college together.”
“Well, he doesn’t know about my track record with men, so I’m going to try a different way in winning him over.”
He arched his brow. “What way is that?”
Damien listened intently as she explained how she’d run across an Internet article that told women how to win a man...and she kept a straight face the whole time. He couldn’t do the same. The idea was just so comical. Did people really believe this? Obviously, she had.
The corner of his mouth twitched as he tried to hold in a laugh. “So that’s what the box of chocolates was for?”
“Yes. It was way number one.”
“How did it go?” He sat beside her and twirled his fork in the noodles.
“Not as well as I’d wanted.”
“What happened?”
She shrugged. “He didn’t even open the box. How can he detect my mating scent if he doesn’t get that chemical in his blood? It was like blowing a moose mating horn to a deaf moose.”
He chuckled. He absolutely adored her sense of humor. “Perhaps he’s not a moose.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, I wish I knew what kind of mating call he likes, but unfortunately, I don’t.” She sipped her water. “Then again, maybe I read the article backward. Maybe it said eat chocolates in the dark instead of eating dark chocolate.”
“What if this chemical is a hoax and it doesn’t work?”
She arched an eyebrow. “But what if it does? Besides, I checked it out on the Internet. Apparently, there have been tests done that support this theory.”
“Maybe he’ll eat the candy tomorrow.”
“No. He gave them to me without knowing I’m his admirer.”
He crinkled his forehead. “Ooh, not good.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“Did he give a reason why he didn’t eat them?”
“No.”
“Then you need to think of another way to get that chemical in his blood.”
She sighed. “You’re not telling me anything new, but I don’t know what to do. My brain is running on empty.” She shoveled a pile of rice on her fork before pushing it in her mouth.
He scratched the side of his face. He really didn’t want to help her win Max. No girl deserved such punishment, and Damien didn’t deserve to be tortured by watching it happen...twice in a lifetime. He couldn’t stand the rejection. Women always picked blond hair and blue eyes over Damien Giovanni.
Although he didn’t want to help Cyndi, he did enjoy her company. A lot. So maybe if he volunteered to help, she’d allow him into her heart as a friend, and eventually more.
They ate in silence. As hard as he tried not to think of a way to have Max eat the chocolates, her sad eyes tugged on his heartstrings and he wished he could kiss away her frown. The only way to make her smile was to help. Hopefully Max would show his true colors soon, and she’d move on to another man, and he’d be standing next in line.
Funny he felt this way since he knew what kind of girl she was. Yet lately, the girls he’d gone out with were boring. Fake. He wanted something new. He wanted...Cyndi.
“I think I know a way.”
Her gaze snapped to his face, her eyes widened.
“Does he still drink coffee in the morning?”
“Yes.”
“All right, here’s what you’ll do. When he leaves his office, sneak in and replace the coffee cup with a cup of hot chocolate.” He took a swallow of his water to wash down the annoyance rising inside him. “When he sips it, he’ll drink the hot chocolate instead, and the chemical will enter his body.”
Color came back to her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled to a healthy sapphire. She grasped his hand and squeezed. “Oh! I really think that will work.”
“It should.” He nodded.
“Damien, you’re the best.”
He winked. “I know.”
“Thank you so much.”
“Anytime.”
She smiled wide. “Does this mean you’ll help me win Max?”
He stared blankly at her. Help her? He didn’t want to help her with Max, but then if it meant spending more time with her and watching her eyes light up, he’d do it. He’d also be by her side to make certain Max didn’t hurt her.
He nodded and she released a big sigh.
“Can you sneak into his office without being seen after he’s put his coffee on the desk?” he asked.
She paused, her forehead creasing. Within seconds, her eyes widened. “Yes. Every morning there’s a meeting for the producers and anchor people. The old sports anchorman was usually only in there for a few minutes. If Max follows the same schedule, I can switch the drinks at that time.”
Damien lifted his water glass. “Then let’s toast to a successful day.”
She raised her glass and clinked it against his. The twinkle came back into her eyes. His chest ached knowing the feeling wasn’t for him. Why had he offered to help when he should be keeping her away from men like Max? Under the table, he bunched his hand into a fist.
He debated telling her the truth about his former friend, only because he didn’t know if Max had changed from when Damien knew him in college. He’d ride it out and see what happened. With any luck, she’d get tired of Mr. Sportsman quickly.
“Okay, now that we have dinner out of the way, I have something to try on you.” He pushed away from the table and held out his hand for her to take. She hesitated, her forehead creased.
“Try on me?”
He chuckled. “Yes, the new GIO product.” He paused, then asked, “Don’t you trust me?”
The corner of her mouth lifted, but she didn’t answer. Her eyes narrowed slightly and he grinned. He took her hand and pulled her out of the kitchen, through the front room and toward his bedroom. He hoped she didn’t think he was trying to get fresh with her. For once, that wasn’t his intent. It was his own fault she thought poorly of him.
When he first met Cyndi, he suspected she was like most money-hungry women—just like his ex, but Cyndi didn’t act impressed when he showed her his new furniture. Usually the women asked him about what he did for a living and how much he made by now. For some reason, Cyndi didn’t care. At least she didn’t act like she cared.
He’d always thought she was one fine looking woman, and when he first told her so, she voiced her opinion of his one-track flirtatious manner. Every time he saw her, he wanted to see the fire in her eyes—wanted to make her melt in his arms. So far, that hadn’t happened.
She became a challenge, and now with Max in the picture, it only made the challenge that much more important. Over the past six months, Damien had seen the men in her life come and go, and he’d noticed how much she hurt. She couldn’t mask the pain in her eyes. He didn’t want his old college friend be the next to break her tender heart.
When they entered his room, Cyndi stopped and stared at his large bed with wide eyes. “Is this bed from Scandinavia, too?”
“Yes. Hans Sandgren Jakobsen designed it. He calls it Grandlit.”
She grimaced. “It doesn’t look very comfortable.”
“Oh, believe me, it is.”
A flush of pink stained her cheeks,
and he bit back a grin. It wasn’t very often he was privileged to get this reaction from her. She usually just bit his head off when he said the wrong things.
She glanced at the few pictures hanging on the walls and walked to them. “So, you like the outdoors? Mountains, streams, waterfalls?”
“Yes.”
She threw a skeptical glance over her shoulder, her eyebrows lifting in a mock laugh. “Didn’t figure you were the type.”
“And what type is that?”
“The rugged outdoors-man.”
He shook his head in disbelief. To him, a man couldn’t consider himself masculine unless he loved the wildness of the great mountains. “I love the outdoors. I enjoy fishing, and kayaking down the river. I even have a cabin in Colorado where I go during the winter when I ice-fish.”
“Amazing.” She smiled.
He took hold of her arm once again and pulled her into his bathroom. She gingerly ran her fingers over his counter, touching his razors, shaving cream, and a bottle of cologne. There were also many GIO brand hair gels, hairsprays, and combs organized along the top.
As she stared at his products, he wanted to share with her the truth. This wasn’t merely just any old testing they were going to do. He owned the company alongside his mother, and tests like this were important. But thanks to some women like his ex, he bit his tongue and confessed nothing. He was tired of women only seeing him for his fat wallet and enormous bank account.
He motioned for her to sit on the small, black-cushioned stool near the garden tub.
When her bottom rested on the seat, her back stiffened and her eyes met his. “What are you going to do to me?”
He picked up the hair dryer with a long rod on the front of the counter and handed it to her.
“What’s this?”
“GIO has come out with a new toy. It’s a combination hair dryer and curling iron. I’m trying it on you to see if it works.”
She crinkled her brows. “And what if it doesn’t work? Will I get a lasting perm through electric shock?”
He tipped back his head and laughed. Because she didn’t join in with the humor, he realized she was serious. “Don’t worry, Cyndi. It’s already been tested.”
Her Own Fairy Godmother Page 4
