Full House Seduction

by A. C. Arthur

  Deena Lakefield was Karena’s youngest sister and from all that Karena had told Noelle about her, she wasn’t ready to take on such an important position.

  “You sure about that?” Noelle asked. “You know how Deena is.”

  “Yeah, but it’s about time she grew up, don’t you think?”

  “Hey, you know me. I’m the queen of needing to grow up. I can’t even chime in on someone else’s dilemmas with joining the adult world.”

  “But you did it. You’ve come a long way, Noelle. Even in the two years I’ve known you, I’ve seen your growth. Deena can do it. She just needs to put her mind to it.”

  “She needs the right motivation,” Noelle added.

  “Exactly. Now, stop changing the subject and answer my question. How are things going?”

  “Well, I just got here, so there’s really nothing to report.” Except that I’ve slept with the boss already.

  “How’s the cousin? Is he just as good looking and intimidating as the rest of the Donovans?”

  “Girl, please. You weren’t even intimidated when you met Linc, Adam and Trent last summer.”

  “Sure I was. That’s why I stayed near the grill. Henry Donovan is the only harmless one.”

  They both laughed at that one. Henry was Linc, Adam and Trent’s father and he was charming and sweet and everything a girl would want in a father. Except he’d only had sons, but that hadn’t stopped him from unofficially adopting Noelle as his daughter.

  “Brock’s not like the rest of the Donovans,” she heard herself saying. “Don’t get me wrong—he’s definitely up to par in the looks department—but he has a more reserved attitude. A little too uptight for my tastes, though. Yeah, give me the in-your-face Trent any day.”

  “Hmm,” Karena murmured.

  “We’re about to go tour the town and then we’re heading over to the casino. I’ll probably have to talk the entire time since he’s so closed-lipped. That’s a real headache, especially since we’re supposed to be working together. But, hey, I’m not here to change the guy, just get the Gramercy II off the ground.”

  “But he looks good, right?” Karena interrupted.

  Noelle’s lips clamped shut as she thought about the question. She’d been so busy going through her list of why she didn’t really like Brock, Karena’s question had been a surprise. “Um, yeah. He’s not bad to look at.”

  “And you’re staying at his house?”

  “That’s right. Oh, the house is nice. It’s big and has a lot of land. The pool is the best. I went for a swim this morning and then when Brock joined me we…” Noelle trailed off.

  “Uh-huh, don’t even try it,” Karena warned. “I knew there was more. I could hear it in your voice. You went for a swim and Brock joined you and then what?”

  Noelle exhaled deeply. Okay, so she totally believed in signs. She’d been having a difficult time and the phone had rang. It had been Karena. She’d received the call for a reason. So with another deep breath, Noelle told Karena the rest and ended with, “I know. I know. I screwed up again. I can’t believe it myself. You would think I’d learned my lesson by now.”

  “Stop doing that,” Karena warned. “Luther was an ass, but you couldn’t have predicted that the first time you met him.”

  “I could have waited to sleep with him. I could have gotten to know him better. Then I would have found out he was married a lot sooner.”

  “You found out he was married because one of his other mistresses thought it was time you knew. Luther makes a habit of cheating on his wife so he’s used to perpetrating with the best of them. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

  “Come on, Karena. I was poaching on another woman’s property.”

  “I’m not denying that, Noelle. I’m just saying cut yourself some slack. There are women out there who poach and do it with a gleeful smile on their faces. But you’re not one of them. You didn’t know and when you found out, you kicked his tired behind to the curb. You did the right thing.”

  “He’s still texting me, you know.”

  “See, that just shows that he’s the one with the problem, not you. Now, back to Brock with the great lips and hands.”

  Noelle laughed. “That’s enough details for you for one day. I’ve got to get going. He’s probably waiting for me.”

  “I’ll just bet he is.”

  “No. It’s not going to be like that. Just like I told him this morning, it was a one-time deal. We did it and it’s over. This is not how I want to work for Linc.”

  “You’re a grown, good-looking woman and from what I’m hearing he’s a grown, great-looking man. You both can do whatever you want and still get the job done for Linc.”

  “This isn’t what I was sent here for. Besides, I don’t know Brock and I’m not sure I want to get to know him. He’s got secrets and issues of his own. I can tell by the way he broods and clams up whenever I start talking.” Noelle was shaking her head. “No. It’s best we keep this strictly business.”

  “If you say so,” Karena finally added. “Well, if you don’t want him, you know I’ve been going through my own drought.”

  “Don’t play,” Noelle said instantly defensive. “Didn’t we just finish talking about poaching?”

  Karena was laughing. “Yeah, but you don’t want him. Right?”

  Noelle smiled. Karena Lakefield was too smart for her own good. “Goodbye, Karena. I’ll call you later in the week after I get settled.”

  “You sound like you’re settled enough…on Brock, that is.”

  “Just business, Karena. That’s all there is between me and Brock. Just business.”

  And as Noelle slipped her cell phone back into her purse and left the room, she reminded herself of those words, putting the warmth growing in the pit of her stomach at the knowledge of seeing him again into one of her compartments, closing it off.

  For good, she hoped.

  Chapter 7

  If she were aiming for the exact opposite of Las Vegas, there wasn’t a better place than St. Michaels, Maryland. This quiet town seemed to be worlds away from the bright lights, chinking slot machines, rolling dice and piling chips that buzzed around her across the country. Instead, Noelle found herself walking down brick-paved streets lined with cozy cottages.

  It put her in mind of Mayberry and The Andy Griffith Show, the twenty-first century version, of course. The streets were two way but small, and people milled about, townsfolk mixed with squads of tourists. The cutest little boating outfits hung in the bay window of a store called Chesapeake Bay Outfitters, while more eclectic items graced the windows and part of the sidewalk in front of a place named A Wish Called Wanda.

  The sights and sounds were all so relaxing, so slow paced that Noelle found her steps slowing as she browsed. Never one to possess much patience, Noelle’s shopping experience usually entailed bouncing in and out of stores grabbing up the first thing in sight she liked then moving on to the next. She hated keeping still and had been reprimanded more than a little bit by Grammy while she was growing up for just that reason.

  “Energetic as five Energizer Bunnies,” Jade used to say. Wouldn’t her big sister laugh if she saw her taking time to stop at a shop, reach her hand into a bucket and feel the smoothness of a collection of colored seashells?

  “How about a boat ride?” Brock asked, breaking Noelle’s train of thought.

  They hadn’t spoken much since she’d come out of her room, dressed and ready to go. He’d been in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee and offered her one. Noelle was already jittery and on edge. Drinking coffee would have surely had her bouncing along the streets of St. Michaels, and that wasn’t the image she wanted to project. So with mutual smiles, they’d set out for their tour.

  Brock wanted her to feel the essence of the area, to help her get an idea of what guests they would be catering to. What Noelle had experienced so far was that the residents of St. Michaels might actually have the right idea—simply living their life. Maybe a casino was the
last thing they needed.

  “Sure, that sounds like fun. But do we have time? I mean, I don’t want to be late for the meeting with Josette and Kent.”

  “We’re fine. Besides, they’ll wait.”

  He’d touched a hand to her elbow, then guided her through the clusters of people on the small streets until they came to a break in the shops. At his touch Noelle’s insides rippled. She’d been aware of his closeness all morning but they hadn’t touched, and that was a good thing. Now her body was virtually on fire at something as simple as his hand guiding her down the street. It was embarrassing.

  Deciding to keep focusing on her surroundings she played the tourist, asking Brock questions. “I thought we were going for a boat ride, but this looks like a restaurant.”

  “It is. They have the best steamed crabs here. We should get some one night. You just cannot come to Maryland and not enjoy some steamed crabs.”

  “So I’ve heard,” she said with a smile. “But where’s the boat?”

  “Be patient,” Brock said. “I think there’s something else you’ll like first.” With that he grabbed her hand in his and led her between the restaurant and what looked like another souvenir shop.

  Brock had been uncertain about how she’d act once they were together, alone, again. However, Noelle was acting like her normal cheerful self, initially. Then he’d watched with a strange feeling growing inside as she’d experienced the town and some of its attributes. As she’d stopped and touched things he found himself wanting to be what she touched. With every stroke of her fingers over a seashell, a piece of clothing, Brock’s body tensed. Then when she stared at things such as novelty clocks or key chains with the barest hint of a smile on her face he’d felt a tightening in his chest that was both foreign and alarming.

  Still, the memory of that slight catch in her voice as she left his room earlier this morning bothered him. Again, he knew he shouldn’t wonder what had happened in her life to make her so sad after intercourse, but he couldn’t help it. However, an hour later when she’d smiled at him and proclaimed she was ready for the meeting he figured asking her would be a mistake. So instead he’d opted to keep their time together, for the duration of the day, as business-like and unconfronta-tional as possible.

  Noelle heard them before she actually saw them—the loud persistent quacking of ducks! Her gaze immediately went to the ground and what came waddling around the corner. Three beautifully colored ducks walked right on the street with her in single file as if that were the rule.

  “Oh! Look at them. They’re so pretty,” she squealed, instantly kneeling to get a closer look.

  The one had a black head with a bright orange beak. Its eyes were a darker shade of orange with a perfect black dot in the center. Its features were as sleek and shiny as that of a raven, its head held high as it pranced along the wood-planked ground.

  Another one had a head in a shimmering emerald-green hue with a fierce streak of royal blue going down its backside, blending in with bark brown feathers. Its beak was yellow, its eyes dark, almost black. Their webbed feet carried them around, beaks opening each time they wished to speak.

  Noelle was entranced. So much so that when Brock touched her shoulder, she jumped.

  “Here. They’re waiting for you to feed them,” he told her, offering his hand to her.

  Noelle instantly extended her hand and chuckled with glee as he dropped the small pellets into her palm. The ducks must have smelled them because now they waddled toward her. Lowering her arm she held out her hand and waited for them to come closer. As they did, all three of them, Brock knelt down beside her and hit the bottom of her hand so the pellets bounced out, scattering on the ground.

  “They’ll peck your arm off the way you’re offering to all three of them,” he said when she’d looked up at him with annoyance.

  “Oh,” she said, then looked back at the ducks happily milling about, pecking up the food.

  It was back, he thought, that light in her eyes that touched a part of him Brock had long since closed off. He couldn’t help but smile. “Come on.”

  He had her hand again and this time Noelle didn’t focus on the heat. She watched the ducks until they were traveling so far down the wooden dock that she could barely see them.

  Instead she saw what reminded her of an old tugboat. “Please tell me this is not what we’re riding on.”

  “Can’t do that,” Brock said leading her to the boarding section ahead of him. “It’ll be educational. This tour takes you down the Miles River, part of the Chesapeake Bay Estuary, which is the largest in the western hemisphere.”

  Yeah, that sounded educational, all right. For a moment Noelle wanted to ask what happened to the smiling Brock that had just helped her toss food at the ducks. But she refrained. It was, after all, a business trip.

  So they set sail on the historic Patriot, she and Brock taking seats on the upper deck. While she was more interested in the water, the banks that gave way to the greenest grass she’d ever seen and the palatial homes that were afforded this gorgeous view on a daily basis, Brock broke out into the position of historical guide. He told her things like why St. Michaels was known as The Town That Fooled The British for a skirmish during the War of 1812 and that here on the Miles River local watermen harvested clams, oysters and the famous Chesapeake Bay blue crab. All of which were probably facts of interest to the normal tourist.

  But to Noelle it was simply jibberish. She wanted to see the people, to interact with them, to find out how living in such a beautifully serene place had affected their lives. In that way, she would know how to cater to them at the Gramercy II and quite possibly get some insight into how she could bottle up some of this serenity and take it back to Vegas with her come the end of the summer. Lord knows she needed it.

  When the tour was over Noelle felt closer to nature than she ever had before. Probably not nature itself but the Miles River, thanks to the enchanting ride on the little tugboat that left her feeling happy and energized.

  This morning’s digression was far from her mind until they were walking along the dock and Brock suddenly swooped her into his arms.

  “So did you enjoy the ride?” he was asking in that deep voice of his.

  Noelle’s palms flattened on his chest as she attempted to pull out of his grasp. As much as she liked St. Michaels and its beautiful views, she could not stand to be in Brock’s arms. It was the one place where she had no control.

  “Ah, I really liked it,” she said, finally moving away from him.

  He looked at her strangely, then let his arms fall to his sides. “Noelle, listen, about this morning,” he began.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “This morning is over and done with. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  Brock looked as if he was going to argue with her, then simply switched gears. “Fine. Let’s not be late for our meeting.

  He’d oblige her for now, but they were going to talk. She could bet on that!

  The building itself was beautiful. Steeped on top of a winding road that sloped down on the back end to meet the other side of the magnificent Miles River. The Gramercy II looked majestic yet simplistic in this small town setting.

  “The architect did a great job capturing the ambiance of the Eastern Shore while still making a bold, contemporary statement,” Noelle commented the moment they walked through the cooper-toned glass doors.

  “Why thank you,” a male voice responded.

  Brock turned in the direction from which it had come, already extending his hand in greeting. “Kent Foster of Foster Designs meet Noelle Vincent from the Gramercy I.”

  Kent, a tall, slim man with skin the color of roasted pecans and eyes that sized and assessed, immediately shook his hand heartily while keeping his gaze on Noelle.

  “Your design is simply beautiful,” Noelle said as Kent took her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “The pleasure is definitely mine,” Kent responded, bringing the back of
Noelle’s hand to his lips for a slow kiss.

  Brock’s jaw clenched.

  Chapter 8

  Kent Foster had an easy smile and cheerful demeanor. Brock had hired him five years ago to design his house. They’d been friends ever since.

  “Where’s Josette? I thought we were going to do the walk-through together,” he said, willing his friend to let go of Noelle’s hand this instant.

  “She’s around somewhere, making sketches and playing with her swatches. You know how she is with a blank canvas. So, Noelle, how’s Brock treating you so far? When I heard you were going to stay with him instead of at one of the great bed-and-breakfasts in the area I was afraid for you. You know, Brock isn’t the most personable host.”

  Brock shot Kent a warning look, then caught Noelle looking up at him. He tried to laugh it off but Kent was still holding her hand and she didn’t look as if she minded at all.

  This morning, she’d said what they’d done was over and they should both move on and for the moments after she’d said it Brock had felt confident that he could do just that. But after spending the morning with her he found that since he’d had a taste of her, his hunger had only increased. In addition to that basic hunger was something else that made Brock more than a little uncomfortable.

  “He’s been a wonderful host, helping me feed the ducks and everything,” Noelle was saying, offering Brock a smile.

  His smile, he thought and warmed instantly.

  “Well, let’s get this show on the road,” Brock said, moving smoothly between Kent and Noelle, taking her hand from his friend’s and twining her fingers in his own. He hoped she wouldn’t pull away, yet the startled look in her eyes at his touch said she wasn’t one hundred percent comfortable with it. “Call Josette on her cell,” he said over his shoulder to Kent, who was grinning foolishly at him.

  “Sure thing,” Kent answered as they all moved to the first elevator.

  Two hours later the foursome sat at the functional but ugly table and chairs that had been set up in what would soon be the blackjack area. From there they had a bird’s-eye view of the rest of the room where more table games would be assembled.