Kitabı oku: «Pleasure for Two», sayfa 3

Chapter 4

“Are you comfortable?” Marcel watched Dominique shift around on the floor cushion and wondered if he should have taken her somewhere else. The Seoul Kitchen had tacky oriental paintings on the walls, but the entrées were succulent and generous in size. “I can ask our server for another cushion if you’d like.”

“I’ll live.” Wearing a tight smile, she inched closer to the small, wooden table. “It’s too bad the Chef’s Quarter had such a long wait. I was really looking forward to having some lobster.”

“You’ll love the food here,” he promised, opening his menu. “I eat here several times a month, and I have never been disappointed.”

“What do you recommend?”

Marcel was admiring the delicate slope of her collarbone when her words reached his ears. “That depends on what you’re in the mood for. The barbecued short ribs are one of my favorites, but the fried prawns with vegetables are delicious, too.” He knew that she was open and curious, willing to learn and try new things, but he didn’t know how adventurous she was when it came to food. “I just hope you’re not one of those women who eat nothing but salad.”

Dominique smirked. “Does it look like I skip meals?”

Seizing the opportunity to check her out, he leaned sideways, allowing his gaze to creep up and down her chest and hips. Dominique King was a fox, and seeing her womanly curves made his head spin. If he was in the market for a girlfriend, she would be at the top of his list.

“I’m not disciplined enough to follow a strict diet. I like French bread way too much!”

Marcel raised his glass. “Then may this be the first of many lunch dates,” he proposed. “Here’s to good food, great conversation and plenty of wine.”

They clinked glasses.

“Welcome to the Seoul Kitchen. What can I get for you today?”

While the waiter took their orders, Marcel checked out his stunning lunch companion. Dominique’s brown hair enhanced the golden undertones of her skin, and tiny freckles dotted her cheeks. In this day and age, meeting a woman with model-like looks and intelligence was next to impossible, and he felt his attraction to her growing. He loved her presence, her aura and how effortlessly she held his attention. No easy feat, considering how many things he had on the go.

“How long have you lived in Seattle?”

“Five years,” he said, drawing his eyes away from the curve of her mouth. “I got my undergraduate degree at Seattle University and liked the program so much that I decided to stay to complete my doctorate. I was born and raised in Mauritius though, and my family still lives there.”

“I’ve heard of the country before, but I’m embarrassed to say I don’t know where it is.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. Few people do.”

Sucked in by his smile, she inched forward, bent on committing the impending geography lesson to memory. Dominique knew a lot of great-looking men, but she’d never met someone like Marcel Benoit. The intelligent, soft-spoken graduate student was in a class all by himself.

“Mauritius is a tiny island on the African coast, about six hundred miles east of Madagascar,” he explained. “Indian, European and French influences created a remarkable land rich with culture and people who are as complex and diverse as the country itself.”

“It sounds like my kind of place. What do you recommend I do if I ever go there?”

He rested his elbows on the table, his eyes aglow with desire, his body emanating a slow-burning passion. “Let me know when you’re ready to make the trip. I’d love to show you around, and I know the best places to watch the sun rise.”

His voice floated across the table, tickling her ears. He didn’t touch her, but his words evoked lustful thoughts. Determined to withstand the heat, she took a long sip of her drink. Something told Dominique that if she didn’t get a grip she’d wake up tomorrow morning in Marcel’s bed, so she quit making eyes at him. “Do you go back home often?”

“Not as much as I’d like. I went home last year when my father died, and depending on what happens after graduation, I might return to Mauritius permanently.”

At the thought of not seeing him again, she felt a deep ache in her chest. “It must be hard being away from your family. I talk to my sisters every day, and they’re always dropping by my place for one thing or the other. Life would be pretty boring if I didn’t have them around.”

The server returned with a plate of raw meat, turned on the built-in stove in the middle of the table and plunked long strips of seasoned beef and shrimp on it.

Marcel’s stomach rumbled. The scent of the sautéed onions whet his taste buds, but it was Dominique’s sweet smile that incited his sexual hunger. When the waiter departed, Marcel picked up the tongs and added more peppers to the grill. “You have an advanced degree in finance, and a managerial position at First Centennial Trust, so what made you decide to become a masseuse? The economy’s not that bad, is it?”

Marcel loved the sound of her laugh, and when she spoke, he had to remind himself this was nothing more than an innocent lunch date. He had a habit of moving too fast, and his last relationship had been a painful reminder that he had to take his time instead of diving headfirst into love. Furthermore, he had too much going on in his life to get caught up with another high-maintenance woman. A six-figure income and a lavish home were all prerequisites for dating a sister like Dominique, and even if he drained his trust fund and cashed in all of his business investments he wouldn’t be able to afford a woman like her.

“When I was younger I had dreams of owning a day spa, but my dad wouldn’t hear of it. So I went to college, got my business degree and applied at the bank,” she explained. “For fun, I took a massage therapy training course with a friend last year. I like working at the spa, but it’s just a side gig. Trust me, there’s no way I’m ever quitting my day job!”

Seeing the food was ready, Marcel dished rice, vegetables and meat onto Dominique’s plate. He handed it to her, and when their eyes met his heart stalled. Her smile widened, revealing even white teeth, and he found himself wondering what it would feel like to kiss her. “Bon appétit.”

“Everything smells really good,” Dominique noted, draping a napkin over her lap.

“Allow me.” Using chopsticks, Marcel picked up some shrimp and extended his right hand. “Tell me this isn’t the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

She opened her mouth and chewed slowly. “This is delicious. I can’t believe this place is around the corner from the bank and I’ve never even tried it before.”

“I told you you’d like the food here. Want some more?”

Dominique reached for her fork. “Yes, but I think I can feed myself!”

They talked about living in Seattle, and the more Dominique learned about Marcel the more impressed she was. He was a modern-day Renaissance man who possessed a charm so subtle she didn’t notice they were touching until he caressed her elbow.

“How long have you been engaged?” The question flew out of her mouth before she could reel it back in.

Dominique studied his facial features with a critical eye. The muscles around his mouth tightened, giving him away. This wouldn’t be the first time a man had lied to her about his relationship status. They all played the game until they got caught, and Marcel was cold busted.

“I’m not engaged anymore.” After pausing to take a sip of his water, he said, “She was the one who broke things off, but we’d both been unhappy for a while.”

“Is there any chance you’ll get back together?”

He shook his head. “She wasn’t ready to commit, and—”

“And you were?”

“Dominique, I’ll be thirty-six in a few months.”

“Is that old?”

“From where I come from it is.” He chuckled when her eyes widened in surprise. “In Mauritius, most men get married after they finish their military service and start having kids soon after. My siblings are all happily married, and every time I call home my mom asks if I’m engaged yet. In her day, there was no such thing as dating, so she doesn’t understand why it’s taking me so long to find a bride.”

“I’ve never heard of a man being pressured to settle down.”

“Well, believe it. Back home, children are seen as a sign of prosperity, and fathers are treated like royalty in their communities. A man with a nice house or an expensive car isn’t nearly as revered as a man with three or four sons.”

“Do you plan on having a large family?”

“Definitely.” He sat with his fingers intertwined under his chin, watching her. “What about you? Is your family on your case to tie the knot?”

“No. I got divorced last year, and I’m not ready to date again.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened between you and your ex?”

She chewed the food in her mouth, then took a long drink of her wine. “We met, fell in love and married shortly after. Everything was great for the first few months, but then things slowly fell apart. Earl was a struggling musician, content to do the occasional gig, but I wanted more—a lot more. I busted my butt to pay the bills while he partied with his friends and blew money we didn’t have. I finally got tired of supporting him and kicked him out. We were only together for three years, but it’s been a nightmare trying to move on with my life.”

“Do you ever regret your decision?”

“No. I enjoy my life just the way it is, thank you very much.”

“But don’t you want to have children someday?”

“I don’t need a husband to have kids. Hey, if Octomom can do it alone, so can I!”

Marcel didn’t laugh. “Dominique, you’re right. Most single moms do an incredible job raising their children, but a two-parent home is the ideal. In Mauritius, elders often say, ‘a woman living alone isn’t truly living.’”

“That’s sexist,” she said, staring coolly at him. “You’re still single. Do you feel your life is incomplete because you don’t have a wife?”

“Yes.” The strength of his gaze seared her flesh, and when he spoke again, his tone was convincing. “I like hanging out with the guys, but I’m happier when I have a steady girlfriend.”

Shocked by his admission, she fell silent. Reaching for conversation, Dominique said the first thing that came to mind. “This is the first time I’ve ever had Korean food, but it definitely won’t be my last.”

“Did you really mean that, or are you just saying that to make me feel good?”

She flashed a smile. “Marcel, I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”

The waiter returned, and once the dishes were cleared and the bill was paid, Marcel offered to walk her back to work. “I don’t mind,” he said when she protested. “I don’t have classes this afternoon.”

Marcel stepped forward and rested a hand on her lower back. Lust shot through his body like a bolt of fire. Surprise registered on her face, and he knew she felt the electricity that had passed between them, too. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. They stood in the middle of the restaurant, staring intently at each other for several seconds.

“We better get going,” she finally said, breaking eye contact. Between work, her sisters and her position at Destination Wellness, she had no free time. None at all, she told herself stubbornly. And just because she felt a connection to Marcel didn’t mean she had to act on her feelings. “I only have ten minutes left on my lunch break, and I don’t want to be late.”

Dominique’s forearm accidently grazed across his chest, and Marcel felt the flow of blood surge below his belt. Enjoying the feel of her skin against his, he moved closer. Using his free hand to open the door, he led Dominique outside into the humid afternoon.

“So, what do you do when you’re not managing the bank or working at Destination Wellness?”

“I like to hang out with my friends, cook and work up a sweat at my coed spin class.”

“Is that for couples or something?”

“No, it’s for singles. We work out together and then go out for cocktails and appetizers. You should check it out. It’s an awesome workout and a great opportunity to meet people.”

“Now I understand why you’re the most popular masseuse at Destination Wellness,” Marcel said, shooting her a smile. “You’re vivacious, and you have an infectious personality. I can honestly say I don’t remember the last time I had this much fun with someone.”

“Oh stop. I just love to talk!” Dominique laughed. “I monopolized the conversation at lunch, but you’re too much of a gentleman to admit it.”

“You have a strong opinion about everything, and you don’t hold back. That’s refreshing.” He lowered his mouth but didn’t kiss her. “I like being with you very much, Ms. King.”

Her eyes fell across his lips, and a delicious heat flowed through her. She didn’t know if she believed the story about his broken engagement, but she wasn’t going to sweat it. They were just friends, so it didn’t matter if he was telling the truth or not. But when he bent down and pecked her cheek, friendship was the last thing on her mind. For the past nine months, she’d been happily single, dating this guy and the next, but when Marcel touched her, she yearned for his kiss. Stealing herself against the thought, she vowed in her heart never to make the same mistake again. Falling for a man she was insanely attracted to had almost ruined her once, and she wasn’t going to get hurt by another good-looking man who told lies.

“What are you doing next weekend?” he asked, as they continued up the street. “I’m having a few friends over. You should come by.”

“I’ll think about it. I’m behind on paperwork, so I was planning to work that weekend.”

Undeterred, he made another plug for his party. “There’ll be good music, food and more than enough of everything to go around, so invite a few of your friends. The more the merrier.”

“I thought you said your apartment was small?”

He chuckled. “It is, but whenever the word gets out that I’m cooking Creole food my friends come out in droves! The last time I had a get-together, over fifty people showed up.”

“I love Creole food. Why didn’t you mention that part sooner?” she asked, laughing. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it, but put my name down on the guest list just in case. Should I bring anything if I decide to come?”

“Nothing but that pretty smile.”

“Marcel, are you flirting with me?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I am.”

Her laughter sounded sweet. “I like you,” she confessed, staring up at him. “A single girl can never have too many friends, and you’re a really cool guy.”

Marcel’s heart plummeted. Friend? What normal heterosexual man could handle being friends with someone like Dominique King? He was looking for a serious relationship and she loved being single, but that didn’t stop him from wanting her. “Oh, no, I’ve been relegated to the dreaded friend category.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Stopping outside of the bank, she stared up at him.

“Dominique, men and women can’t be friends. Where I come from, the whole purpose of dating it is to find a suitable marriage partner. No guy with a working pulse wants to be just friends with a woman as appealing as you.”

“I have tons of male friends,” she argued, “and none of them are carrying a torch for me.”

“They all must be blind!”

Uncontrollable laughter burst from her mouth. “You’re terrible.”

“And you’re beautiful.” He reached out and gently touched her shoulder. “I know a real nice café up the block. If you’re free tomorrow, I’d love to take you out for breakfast.”

“As friends?” she teased, raising her eyebrows.

“Hell, no!” Marcel chuckled. “I’ll meet you here at 8:00 a.m. How does that sound?”

Shaking her head, she gestured with her thumb over her shoulder. “Wednesdays are always crazy around here. Can we make it Friday morning instead?”

“Deal.” Marcel bent down and kissed her cheek. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Chapter 5

Stuffing the mail into his pocket, Marcel pushed open the door of his two-bedroom apartment and shuffled inside. His shoulders drooped when he rested the plastic grocery bags he carried on the floor. Marcel couldn’t remember ever being this tired and wanted nothing more than a cold drink, a hot meal and the comfort of his king-size bed.

Unbuttoning his sports jacket, he kicked off his shoes and strode into the kitchen. He’d get the groceries later, after he took a much-needed break. Marcel threw open the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water and perched on one of the metal bar stools. Tilting his head back, he took a long, satisfying gulp of his drink.

Sunshine streamed through the balcony doors, drenching the living room with light and warmth. Framed pictures hung above tan sofas, floor lamps were positioned around the room and engineering books lined the metal shelves. His sixth-floor apartment offered a remarkable view of the ocean, and after a stressful day, Marcel liked to sit outside on the balcony and unwind.

Remembering his mail, he tugged the stack of letters out of his back pocket. He saw the return address on a plain brown envelope, and his mouth went dry. U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services had sent him a third letter, which could only mean one thing. His heart thumped loudly in his chest as he ripped open the envelope and began to read.

“Due to the incredibly high volume of applications at this time, we regret to inform you that your visa extension has been denied. If you have any further questions, please contact us at the toll-free number listed under our Washington address.”

Expelling a breath, he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. He missed his family, but he wasn’t ready to leave the States—not until he’d built the life he’d always dreamed of.

Studying the calendar hanging on the wall, he calculated the number of weeks left before the end of the fall semester. Not far from now, he’d either be working at one of the city’s premier engineering firms or packing his bags for Mauritius. The thought of returning home made his head throb. The economic crisis had hit the small fishing island hard, and two of his brothers had recently been laid off. Finding a full-time position here in the States would not only bring him one step closer to achieving his dreams but it would ease his family’s financial burdens as well.

Standing, he returned to the foyer and grabbed the plastic grocery bags. He thought of calling his uncle but decided against it. Another person came to mind—a smart, captivating woman with delicate skin and silky hair, who he’d been unable to stop thinking about for the past two days. Talking to Dominique would help, but he didn’t feel comfortable phoning her. They’d hit it off at lunch, but he didn’t want to unload his problems on her.

Still, thinking about Dominique brought a smile to his lips. He was bummed about his visa situation, but he had another date with the attractive bank manager on Friday, and seeing her was a guaranteed pick-me-up. They shared a powerful sexual chemistry, but he knew being friends was definitely the way to go. Finding an engineering position was his top priority, not putting the moves on a woman he’d just met. But as Marcel shelved the groceries, he couldn’t help but wonder what the provocative beauty was doing tonight and with whom.

“If it isn’t man trouble it’s car trouble,” Dominique grumbled, flinging her keys across her desk. Annoyed, she draped her purple knee-length blazer over the back of her chair and plopped down onto her seat. To create a tranquil atmosphere, she’d decorated her office in warm earth tones, but today, the tan paint and bamboo lights did nothing to soothe her.

After discovering the flat tire on her Range Rover that morning, she’d gone back into the house, changed out of her suit and unearthed her ex-husband’s tool kit. Changing the tire had been a messy job, but she was on the road twenty minutes later and arrived at her morning meeting with five minutes to spare.

Pleased with her performance over the past six months, the executive manager had called on her to explain the policies she’d implemented at her branch to improve client relations. Her presentation had been a success, but she’d left the head office with a migraine headache. From the moment Dominique arrived at First Centennial Trust, there had been one problem after another. If she could just have ten minutes of peace and quiet, she could salvage the rest of the day and finish reviewing the monthly reports that were due tomorrow.

To ensure she wasn’t disturbed, she buzzed her secretary and asked her to hold her phone calls for the next half hour. Signing on to her computer, she typed in her password and accessed her online bank account. While she waited for the page to load, she sipped her double latte coffee. How did someone as smart and conscientious as me end up living paycheck to paycheck? she wondered, staring dubiously at the computer screen. Thanks to Earl’s proclivity for flashy cars and Giorgio Armani suits, she was thousands of dollars in debt.

A heaviness filled Dominique’s heart when she thought about her life with Earl. All of their friends and family thought they were living the good life. But after the bills were paid, there was nothing left. Earl spent money faster than she earned it, and at one point, they’d even been three months behind on their mortgage. Supporting him had sucked the life out of her, and by the time he’d finally gotten his big break, they’d already called it quits. Last she heard, he was in Europe, touring with an eighties jazz band. Dominique didn’t hate him, but every time her credit card statement arrived in the mail, she considered hiring a hit man.

She retained possession of the house after the divorce, but it was an incredible expense for one person. How much longer can I go on like this? she wondered. The stress of her financial situation had caused many sleepless nights, but Dominique was determined to dig herself out of the hole her ex-husband had put her in. That was why she was going to the First Fridays event at the Sheraton. It didn’t matter that she’d been up since 5:00 a.m. or that her legs ached. Networking was the name of the game, and if she could wrangle up five more clients for Destination Wellness, she’d be one step closer to being debt-free.

Noting the required payment due, she transferred the necessary funds from her checking account and waited for the transaction to go through. Right now, all she could afford was to pay the minimum, and at this rate, it would take years to clear the balance. Then there were the delinquent property taxes to think about. If she didn’t have to help her sisters…Dominique deleted the thought from her mind. She was the oldest, and it was up to her to keep the family together. Wasn’t that what her dad had always told her? Even after all these years, she could still hear her father’s voice in her ears. It had a rich, soothing undertone, much like Marcel Benoit’s.

Dominique felt her body flush. Why was she thinking about Marcel? It was true, though. The graduate student had one hell of a voice. It was deep and sensuous and fell across her ears with the same tenderness as a loving caress. She tried not to think about him, but despite herself, she remembered the conversation they’d had at lunch three days earlier. Dominique felt a smile coming on and settled back into her seat.

Her phone rang, startling her. To clear her mind, she expelled a breath and counted to five before picking up the phone. “Hello, Dominique King speaking. How may I be of assistance?”

“Good morning.”

At the sound of Marcel’s voice, she felt flutters in the pit of her stomach. She greeted him warmly, as if unaffected by his dreamy, smooth-as-silk voice. “Hi, Marcel. How are you?”

“Lousy.” He paused before adding, “You stood me up this morning.”

Dominique groaned. “Oh, no! I am so sorry. Our breakfast date completely slipped my mind. I had a flat tire this morning, and it threw off my whole schedule.”

“I understand. I know how slow tow truck operators are,” he said easily. “I once had to wait over two hours for my car to be hauled just a few miles away to my mechanic.”

“I didn’t call a tow truck. I changed the tire myself.”

“You changed your tire?” His tone was thick with disbelief. “You’re pulling my leg, right?”

Used to receiving this reaction from the opposite sex, Dominique reminded him that she was the oldest of three girls. “My dad never wanted any of his daughters to be at the mercy of a man, so he taught us how to fend for ourselves. I can change the oil in my car, assemble any piece of home furniture and whip anybody’s butt at a game of pool!”

His deep chuckles filled the line and alleviated Dominique’s anxiety.

“I wish you would have left a message with the information desk. Then I would have called you as soon as I got in.”

“It never occurred to me.”

“I feel so bad about this,” she confessed, drumming her fingers on her desk. “Are you free this evening? I’m attending the First Fridays event at the Sheraton, but we could meet up for drinks afterward if you’d like.”

“I already have plans.”

“Oh, okay. Do you want to have dinner on Monday?”

Marcel turned her down. “I don’t want you to rearrange your schedule on account of me. I was just calling to make sure you were okay. I got worried when you didn’t show up.”

Disappointed that she wouldn’t be seeing him again, Dominique stared absently out of her office window, wondering if there was anything else she could say to change his mind. “It was very thoughtful of you to call and check up on me,” she said, deeply touched by his concern. “I’m fine though. Forgetting our plans was just an oversight on my part.”

“Well, I better let you go. You’re at work, and I don’t want to hold you up.”

Dominique wasn’t ready to end their conversation, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say. He was reluctant to make plans with her again, and she understood why. Dating a musician had come with its fair share of disappointments, and she’d hate for Marcel to think she was unreliable. He was such a great guy. Intelligent, well-read and seriously hot, he appealed to her in every way and never failed to make her laugh.

“I guess I’ll see you around. Take good care of yourself, Dominique.”

“You, too,” she said, but the line went dead. She sat there, holding the receiver in her hand, wondering what had just happened.