Chapter 5
A soft ray of light reflected off the mirror, bestowing Dina with a halo.
Cole thought her beautiful before, she was downright stunning now. Tendrils of hair brushed the soft curve of her neck, enticing him to nibble on her peaches and cream skin.
Without a word, she came toward him, all lips and hands. He’d died and gone to heaven.
The pull low in his stomach was so strong it threatened to knock him off balance. He reached around and tugged her against him. She sighed into his mouth. His shaft thickened even more.
The blaze that ignited on the street escalated in his office. The sensation was like no other he’d experienced. A sense of belonging crashed over him, scaring the hell out of him and plunging the absurd into his thoughts. If he was the cause of his wife’s death, he couldn’t enter the relationship he coveted since laying eyes on Dina without finding out why first. Talking to Shelly’s best friend, who she disappeared with every Saturday, topped his list.
Grasping Dina’s shoulders, he pulled his lips off hers. “What I’m about to say is tough for me.”
She blinked, sexual thirst diminishing in her features. “What?”
The combination of her stunned expression and his aching body was not what he envisioned when he saw her again. “I have things to work out. Whatever we have between us is like dynamite. If I don’t resolve this issue first, I’m afraid it will destroy whatever chance we have at a relationship.”
She squinted and studied him. “You’re assuming a lot.”
The vibes radiating off her told him he wasn’t. “I don’t think so.”
“Cocky?”
“Honest.”
“Is this how you handle fate?” She arched a brow. “You shove it away?” The word he said yesterday without thinking, she used against him. Confusion and hurt tainted her pretty face.
Immediately, he wanted to tug her into his arms and pick up where they left off. He shoved his hands in his pockets to stay in control.
Her delicious, plump lips turned into a thin line before she crossed to the table.
Damn.
The bucket of water he threw on them left him hollow, but changing his decision was not an option. “Give me a few days.”
She studied him and nodded, but the moment she shoved the artwork in her briefcase with more force than necessary, he knew she interpreted what he had said as a rejection.
“I’ll contact your assistant to finish the particulars of the project.” She stretched out her hand.
The formality unnerved him. He accepted her gesture, but didn’t…couldn’t let go. “Can you honestly say you’re ready to have a serious relationship?”
She pulled on her hand, but he held tight.
“You’ve worn that forlorn expression since I first saw you.”
Her flinch told him she wasn’t aware of his unspoken desire for her. A knee-jerk reaction had him wanting to confess he watched her for the last year, waiting for the dejected expression to stop creasing the delicate features of her face. He wanted to tell her they had more of a connection than she was aware of. Right now, if he spoke freely, he was afraid his words would backfire. “Talk to me.”
“Cole,” she whispered, a sad but angry undertone laced her voice.
She was killing him. “Dina, you’re not ready for what I want with you. I’m not ready.”
Her mouth dropped open and her eyebrows narrowed. “How do you know my feelings much less your own? We hardly know each other.”
“I know this.” Inching closer, he placed his hands on her jawline and lifted her face until their gazes locked. “When I touch you, I feel like I can’t get enough. Maybe it’s lust, maybe it’s from being celibate so long, or maybe…just maybe, it’s the real thing.” He swallowed the lump lodged in his throat from unexpectedly confiding his feelings. “I need a couple days to straighten out a few complications.”
Her pupils dilated and her pulse jumped in her neck. Apprehension spilled from her gaze as she searched his face.
On her nod, he brushed a kiss across her lips, and leaned his forehead against hers. “I’ll explain when I understand enough to repeat it.”
****
Dina slipped into the elevator and rested against the wall. Humiliation tore at her, tasting like metal and bad mojo. Was Cole being honest? Did he want a real relationship or did he have other reasons to dismiss her? Did she kiss badly? Did she have a third boob on her back?
And the real reason that made her question every reaction a man sent her way came forward and made her identify it. Did her ex-husband’s affair with someone who looked twelve mean something was wrong with her?
She snatched a compact from her purse. Hair and makeup looked the same as it had when she looked in the bathroom mirror, a little messy, but doable. Moments before she sought a reprieve in the bathroom, he had wanted her. From the time she walked into the bathroom and walked out, what had happened to change his mind?
She sniffed her armpits and was relieved she didn’t stink. She smiled in the mirror and froze. In the middle of her two front teeth, a black speck. That’s it!
The elevator dinged. The exquisite foyer stared back at her. Marble covered the floor and a crystal chandelier hung at the center of the ceiling. The receptionist she spoke with yesterday and again when she arrived today sat behind the desk smiling. Dina returned the gesture and headed for the door.
“Ma’am, Mr. Dunbar requested a car to take you home.”
Dina’s back stiffened. She eyed the receptionist pointing to a couch off to the left.
“You can wait there.”
She’d rather walk to work off her frustration. “No, thank you,” she said and barged out the door.
People crowded the streets and car horns blasted. An open-air tour bus passed. She strolled down the street, watching energetic tourists point at the sights.
A dark vehicle stopped along the curb in front of her. A man dressed in black stepped out of the car. “Ms. Wright.”
She halted and gazed between him and the limo. “Yes.”
“Right this way.” He opened the door.
After a moment, curiosity got the best of her. She stepped to the rear of the car. Sandalwood and the fresh mint drifted out. Cole’s scent. She touched her chest and looked inside the empty limo.
“Mr. Dunbar has instructed me to take you wherever you’d like. There’s a full bar, food, TV, and computer at your disposal. Also, he asked me to give you this.”
The letter D was scripted in gold trim on the front of the bonded notepaper. She gazed at the words scrolled across the page. Please accept my gift to use the limo for the evening. Enjoy.
“Wow, he works fast.”
Silo clasped his hands together. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her earlier frustration waned with Cole’s act of kindness. Deciding not to let her angst take away the chance to indulge herself, she slid across the cool leather seat.
“Make yourself at home. My name is Silo. Is there anywhere in particular you’d like me to take you, Ms. Wright?”
The corners of her lips rose. Riding around Manhattan for a while, doing nothing, sounded perfect. “If you could tour the city, I’d love it.”
Silo chuckled. “Yes, ma’am, I can.” He shut the door. Seconds later, the car pulled into traffic. Various liquor bottles and glasses lined a shelf beside a small refrigerator. A bottle of Macallan 18 with a red ribbon and a card caught her attention.
Cheers, Dina.
How’d he know she liked Scotch? “He just happened to have a bottle of Scotch in the car?” she asked into the void.
“He has a private collection,” Silo said from the front seat and rolled up the window between them.
She removed the cork stopper and smelled the potent liquid before filling a glass halfway. The smooth drink slipped down her throat, imparting that familiar calming effect. She rested her head on the seat, appreciating the fact the taxing part of the day had ended, and tried not to think about the man who plagued her brainwaves.
She searched the interior and sipped more scotch. The armrest in the center glowed with gadgets. She pushed one. The tinted window dividing the back of the limo from the front rolled down.
“Oops.” She hit another button, backlit in green. A computer screen flipped down.
“Ms. Wright.”
She eyed Silo smiling in the rearview mirror. “Yes.”
“Did you decide on a destination?”
A drive through her favorite section of New York City would be nice. “Times Square. No stopping, though.” The window slid up.
“Here’s to hoping I didn’t screw up my chances with my first account.” She lifted the glass and sipped. The alcohol burned her throat and went up her nose. She coughed and settled against the seat.
Silo turned onto Forty-Second Avenue, and she gazed at the sparkling lights of Times Square and reflected on how this past year she reinvented her life, both personal and business. She no longer allowed anyone to control or dominate her, not a man, and not her mother.
Her ex-husband’s unrealistic goal of a flawless wife was no longer important. Her mother’s brow beating to develop into a prima donna disappeared.
Tipping the glass to her lips, she emptied the contents and picked up the bottle. The cork stopper flew through the air, wedging between the seat and door.
She stared in the direction it disappeared and realized she didn’t care. No one could guilt her or yell at her until everything was in its proper place. Oh, she planned to grab the stopper when they stopped, but she didn’t have to.
A wave of dizziness struck. The Scotch was more potent than she remembered.
She leaned forward to tuck the bottle onto the shelf.
The limo jolted, splashing the liquid on her dress. “Darn it.”
“Sorry, ma’am, I hit a pot hole.”
Dina glanced over her right shoulder, then left, and felt a ping between her eyes. The power of Scotch hit hard. “Where are you?”
A winding noise sounded and Silo appeared, sitting behind the wheel and waving in the rearview mirror. “Driving.”
“Silo, you’re funny. I know where you are. Where’s your voice?” She clutched her waist and laughed. “I didn’t say that right, either.”
A grin spread across his tan face. “The speakers are behind you.”
“Oh.” She snickered. “Yes, I’m okay.”
He nodded. At least she believed he nodded. The distance between them blurred.
She eyed the tinted window rolling up and attempted to focus. The limo rocked, forcing her to burp. “Excusssseee meee.” With an ear leaning toward the speaker, she strained to hear the driver’s reply. Nothing.
“So, if I can’t see him, he can’t see me.” Everything she did or said stayed private.
“Silo, were you named after a barn?”
She waited.
No response.
Hmmm.
The computer screen blinked on.
Uh-oh.
The buttons on the armrest danced like a sparkling Christmas tree. Which one called Silo? She hit one. The radio boomed classical music. That won’t do. She hit another.
“Yes, Ms. Wright?”
Her hand covered her mouth. What did I want? The Google search page stared at her. “Um, did you turn the computer on?”
“No, ma’am. You lowered the screen a few minutes ago. The monitor takes a few minutes to warm up.”
Ohhhh. “Thank you.”
The Scotch winked at her. She grabbed the bottle off the shelf and filled her glass. One handed, she grabbed the keyboard from the back of the seat and typed in the single’s website, her username and password Monique created for her. Six months ago, she cringed over entering a chat room. After meeting Sir Palladium on the first day, she looked forward to talking to him. They had talked to one another and supported each other during their business dealings and different things in life. Neither of them had talked about dating anyone. If she mentioned her situation to Cole, would he listen?
She rubbed her cheeks, pressing on the never-ending smile that took up residence on her face, causing her cheeks to hurt. With the glass raised, she toasted, “Here’s to Sir Palladium, businessman by day…I think…romantic by night.” The last few drops in her glass disappeared, her stomach spasmed as she searched the list of who was logged on.
He’s not on.
She rubbed her nose and pondered how else she could find him. A message popped on the screen. Her heart lurched. She slid the arrow over the read button.
“Gorgeous pic.”
The six-month-old profile picture, the first image after her divorce, she hated. Shadows plagued her eyes, but her hair looked good. She lifted her glass for another swallow, came up empty, and studied the picture of the person who messaged her.
Dark hair peeked out around a cowboy hat and charcoal eyes stared back at her. His username: Cool Hand Luke.
“You there?”
Sir Palladium wasn’t available and Monique had a date. She might as well talk to someone. She typed. “Yes and thank you.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“You, too.”
“What are you wearing?”
Her mouth gaped open and she typed, “Really?” Who asked such questions?
What am I wearing? Tell the truth or not? She decided to answer a question with a question. “You?”
“A whip.”
She jerked her fingers off the keyboard as if they’d catch fire. She swallowed mouthfuls of air. No whips. Branching out…having a little fun…flirting was okay…but whips…no.
“Do you need anything, ma’am?” The driver’s voice filled the air.
She scanned the interior for cameras and wiped her nose. “Can you see me?”
The driver coughed.
Was he laughing?
“No, ma’am, I can’t.”
The car turned into a furnace. “It’s hot back here.”
“If you say so.”
The smile left her face. “Are you watching me?”
“No, I’d lose my job.”
“Well then, I’m good, just hot.”
“I turned the air-conditioner on. There’s a control on the armrest.”
The controls sparkled. “Thank you.”
A click resonated in the small confines, Silo turned off the intercom. The spacious room in the car closed in on her. Sweat beaded on her forehead. She snatched a tissue from a holder and dabbed her skin. The warmth in the limo increased. She toed off the straps of her shoes and remembered Vince asking her to call him.
She snatched her phone and his card with his new number from her purse and eyed the print. Her alcoholic fog didn’t help her vision. A six or eight? Closing one eye, she focused harder. A five? She pushed the numbers on her cell.
Vince answered on the first ring.
“Hel-l-o-o,” she slurred into the phone.
“Dina?”
She nodded.
“You there?”
She shook her head.
“Dina?” His voice rose. “Talk to me.”
“I’ve been…” Her stomach clenched. A quick intake of breath, she continued, “…answering you.”
A low chuckle floated over the phone. She loved the sound of a man’s laugh. There hadn’t been enough laughter in her marriage.
“Do you need a ride?”
“No, I have one.”
“What are you doing?”
Oh, he’s so cute. “I’m”—she rubbed her hand across the soft leather—“riding in a limo in Times Square.”
“Ah. You loved going there when you were stressed.”
He remembered.
“How’d the meeting with your first client go?”
I wanted to jump the client’s bones. “Good. Besides calling his invention by a porn name, I think my pitch delivery went fairly well.”
“What?” he said, humor in his voice.
“A mix up.” She waved a hand. Her head was too fuzzy to explain. “Someone offered me the use of their limo.”
“Changing topics. I get it. You don’t want to talk about it.”
“Nope.” Her lips smacked together.
“Will you ride around all night?”
“You know me too well.”
The phone in the console rang. She jumped, splashing Scotch in her lap. “Dang it. Again. Crap!”
“I’m on my way to your place.”
She set the bottle on the shelf and searched for a towel. “Okay. I don’t know when I’ll get there.”
“Whatever you’re doing, have fun.”
“Will do.” She hung up, giggling, and opened one of the several compartments lining the backseat. A first aid kit fell to the floor. She tossed it back inside and opened the next. Wrapped shirts stacked in the small storage area.
The image of her unwrapping and draping one of the shirts over Cole’s naked torso crawled into her brain. Her fingers stroked his broad shoulders and dips and crevices of his toned chest and abdomen.
A buzzing sound lit the small confines, startling her.
For a long moment, she glared at the cordless phone on the armrest, waiting for it to speak. When it didn’t, she opened the last compartment, found and snatched a towel off the bottom shelf. The computer screen flashed a message. “Hey, gorgeous.”
Uh-oh, the whip guy’s back.
She dabbed the wet fabric.
“Did I scare you with the whip comment?” Cool Hand Luke zipped another message. “Bad joke. Sorry.” The screen blinked at her. “Knock, knock?”
Really? What the heck? “Who’s there?”
“Guinevere.”
“Guinevere, who?”
“Guinevere going to go out?”
Dina snickered. “Lame.”
“Yes, but you finally messaged me.”
“That I did.”
“So, want to meet for coffee or a drink?”
She considered the invitation. Why bother, she didn’t need another guy adding to the confusion in her life.
“My life is complicated.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I understand. Take care.” Cool Hand Luke signed off.
She rested her head back on the seat and closed out the world. This was the life, having someone else driving. Maneuvering in New York was precarious.
Her abdomen clenched once again, but this time, bile rose to her throat. Not good. She tried to swallow, but the lump in her throat stayed. “Um, Silo,” she said, pushing the button on the armrest and holding her waist with a free arm.
“Yes, ma’am. What can I do for you?”
“Ugh.” Dizziness hit hard and fast. Inside the limo spun, her forehead sweated. “I’m nauseous.”
The glass that concealed her in the back slid down. Cool air stroked her face. “Does that help?”
The breeze dried her skin, and the sensation to throw up lessened. “It does.”
“If you’re hungry, there are sandwiches in the refrigerator.”
Drinking on an empty stomach wasn’t smart. “I am.” She sat her glass on the bar and leaned over to the fridge. Not able to focus on the small print on the sandwich wrappers, she snatched one and bit into delicious ham. After a couple bites, her insides settled. The wooziness subsided.
The phone rang. She flinched.
It rang again. She grabbed the receiver. “Mr. Dunbar’s residence,” she said, giggling.
“Dina.” His deep soothing voice sent a tingle of lust through her.
Her chest tightened. “Cole?”
“Hello, Dina. Is Silo taking good care of you?”
I wish you were here. “Yes. He’s treating me well.”
“Good. I’ve instructed him to take you wherever you want.”
“Thank you.” She hated to sound rude, but had to ask. “How’d you know I liked Scotch?”
The sound of his chuckle soothed her, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Lucky guess. It’s my favorite, and,” he paused, “it was the only bottle I had on hand.”
She smiled.
“Dina?”
She pushed the phone closer to her ear, hoping to hear an offer to join her. “Yes?”
“I meant what I said earlier. I need a little time. My comment wasn’t a brush off.”
Her breath hitched. “So, you didn’t reject me because I had food in my teeth?”
“What?” He chuckled. “I didn’t notice food in your teeth. I would have removed it, if I had.” His voice lowered, the words bathing her in desire.
“I’m confused. You dangle a carrot—” She stopped, reconsidering her words.
The deep, relaxed tone of his laugh turned seductive.
“Cole.”
“Time, Dina. Give me time,” he whispered. “Soon, we’ll finish what we started.”
The car jarred, coming to an abrupt stop. Her body flung forward, hit the back of the seat before landing on the floor next to her phone. For a long moment, she laid there, not knowing what to do or what to think.
The back door creaked open and Silo’s face appeared. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” She squinted against the sharp, swirling lights. “What happened?”
“A car pulled out in front of me.” His hand slid down his face. “The boss will have my arse.” She grabbed Silo’s offered hand and scooted out of the car. The warmth running through her body moments ago disappeared. Goosebumps rose, taking their place.
Blue lights whirled around them, illuminating the pavement like a dance floor.
“The police arrived fast.”
“No. The police cruiser was right behind the car I hit. Use this to keep you warm.” Silo draped his jacket over her shoulders.
“Thank you.” She peeked at the front of the limo. Its bumper smashed into the side of a red car…an Aston Martin.
Vince?
“I have to exchange insurance information,” Silo said and walked away.
She leaned on the car and closed her eyes to the sparkling lights she enjoyed so much that now caused her eyes to hurt.
“Surprised to see you here,” a familiar voice said, coming from behind her. “I expected a celebrity. I had all kinds of accusations ready to toss at them,” Vince said, an impassive expression crossing his face.
“I can’t believe we hit your car. The driver is looking for you.” She pointed in Silo’s direction.
“You mean your chauffeur?”
“Whatever. Go easy on him, he’s a nice guy.”
A uniformed officer approached, eyed Vince before studying her. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, thank you.” She latched onto Silo’s jacket tighter. Something about the officer gave her a sinking feeling. Judging Vince’s fist clenching, he thought the same.
“She’s fine,” Vince said.
“For the last block, I followed you, Mr. Carrington. Your car had a hard time staying in between the lines.”
“Cut the crap, Randy,” Vince snapped, his nostrils flaring. “I haven’t had anything to drink.”
“A breathalyzer will tell.”
“Fuck no. You’re not administering a test on me. I’ll do a blood test.”
Dina’s mouth gaped, looking between the two. Randy, as Vince called him, seemed awfully familiar, but she couldn’t remember why.
“Have it your way.” Officer Randy grabbed Vince’s arm and twisted him around. “A night in jail will do you good.”
An ambulance and fire truck arrived. People gathered across the street.
“No, he didn’t do anything wrong,” Dina pleaded, and edged toward them, stopping in front of Vince.
“Ma’am, you need to step out of the way.”
“But he didn’t do anything.” Dina had never dealt with the police and wasn’t sure what to expect if she kept arguing with them, but Vince was being falsely accused. If he said he hadn’t had anything to do drink, she believed him.
The officer touched her arm and nudged her aside.
Vince shifted, and how she knew the officer came to her. Randy Ward’s and Vince’s ongoing battle originating in their teen years still existed. She didn’t know the circumstances of why they hated each other. She only knew Randy made a smart remark toward Vince any chance he got.
The past should have given her the foresight to know what was about to happen. As soon as Vince yelled, “Ward, you arrogant fuck,” she should have grabbed Vince’s arm and tugged him away.
Vince swung at Randy, connected with his jaw. Randy retaliated with a fist into Vince’s gut and arrested him.
Dina closed her eyes on once again seeing her good friend in the rear of a police car as the EMT had her sit in the backseat of the limo.
“Ma’am, I called Mr. Dunbar,” Silo said approaching. “He was at a meeting close by and will pick you up in a minute. I have to go with the tow truck. “
“Did you get a ticket?” she asked, wondering whose fault the accident actually was.
“No, ma’am. My light was green and so was the other driver’s.”
Did Officer Ward taunt Vince into not paying attention? Dina pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyebrows. Her head was a little foggy, but did Silo say traffic lights were green for two different directions. “Come again?”
An officer she hadn’t met strolled toward them. “Ma’am, when the medic says you’re clear, you’re free to go.”
“All done.” The young man gave a nod and a pat on her arm before heading back to the ambulance.
“Have a good rest of your evening, ma’am,” the officer said before getting in his car and driving away.
Highlights of newspaper clippings flashed in her mind as she remembered Vince’s past. Rich boy locked up. She shook her head. “Not again.”
“Dina.”
She turned and faced Cole jogging over.
“Are you okay?”
Tightness clenched her chest. The tenderness in his gaze, the sincerity in his voice, felt good. “Yes. I can go home.”
Cole said a few words to Silo, returned with her purse, and a pair of handcuffs. “These were near the back of the limo. Anything, you want to tell me?” he asked, handing them to her.
She snickered. “Nope.”
He slid an arm around her and escorted her to his car. Dizzy and feeling exhausted, she leaned into him and sucked in a deep breath. He felt way too good.
“Enjoyed the Scotch, did ya?” he asked once he settled into the seat beside her.
“Too much.” She groaned and leaned her head back, against the leather seat. “You’re not in a limo?”
“I don’t always use them.”
“You don’t care about driving in this traffic?”
“I don’t. Actually, I prefer driving, but I tend to use the limos so I can take care of business on the ride to and from work. Want to use me as a pillow?”
Oh, yeah!
He pressed a hand to the outside of her thigh and nudged her to him. She buried her head in the crook of his neck, breathed in sandalwood, and sighed. “Is this what you call fate?” Her eyes drifted shut.