Packed With Pleasure

“Yes?” she gently urged, and raised a quizzical eyebrow.

I need. I need. I need.

What did he need? Frowning, Alec ripped his gaze from her lips and met those long-lashed, sky-blue eyes again.

“Um…”

Brilliant, Ramsey, absolutely brilliant. When was the last time a woman had left him tongue-tied? He searched his memory and couldn’t think of a single occurrence.

“Did you want to order a gift?” She lifted a hand to push a tendril of hair from her face, the bracelets at her elegant wrist jangled quietly.

“Yes. Yes. That’s it.”

“And what is the occasion?”

“My business partner, who also happens to be my best friend, is getting married the first Saturday in November.”

“You’ll be wanting a honeymoon basket.”

“Yeah.” He nodded.

That’s right, dazzle her with your sparkling conversational skills, you suave devil you.

Irritated with himself, he racked his brain for something else to say. “My sister Sarah Armstrong got married in April and someone gave her one of your baskets as a gift. She said it made the honeymoon.”

“Yes. The Ramsey-Armstrong wedding. I believe her basket was called Palm Tree Passion. Were you wanting to order something similar for your friend?”

“Wow,” Alec said, impressed. “That’s some kind of memory.”

“It’s a Montgomery family trait,” she replied. “Although it often comes in handy when running a business, vividly remembering everything that happened to you can sometimes be a minus.”

A brief wistfulness moved across her face and Alec experienced a rush of empathy. There were quite a few things in his life he was glad remained fuzzy. Like his father’s fatal heart attack, and the time he busted up his leg during a motorcycle race.

Mentally he shook his head, still unable to believe he’d not only survived but had in fact thrived. He’d come so far. From the scrappy kid who got involved in one daredevil stunt after another as a way of dealing with his father’s death to the well-respected editor in chief of a very successful men’s magazine. He had gone from borderline poverty to being rich beyond his wildest dreams, and he owed his success to his uncle Mac and the ability to face his fears head-on and defy them.

“My baskets are each original creations,” Eden said, breaking into his memory. “Tailor-made for the recipient. Can you tell me a little more about your friend?”

“Randy?” Alec grinned. “He’s a hotdogger and a half. A balls-to-the-wall no-fear sort of guy.” His grin disappeared. “But he’s been different ever since he met Jill.”

“Different?”

“You know. He’s love-struck. Has this dopey smile on his face all the time. Doesn’t want to do the things he used to do.”

“His priorities have shifted.”

“Yeah,” he said nostalgically, already missing their bachelor high jinks. He was happy for Randy, but he knew things would never be the same between them again.

“And what’s his fiancée like?”

Alec was incredibly aware of exactly how close they were standing. Eden was near enough to touch. He could feel the very air vibrating between them.

“Jill’s nice. Quiet. Not the type I pictured him with.”

“And what type is that?”

“Well, Randy is so bold I guess I always imagined him with someone a bit more…” He hesitated.

How to put this so it didn’t sound as if he didn’t like Jill. He did like her. She was very sweet. Demure, a little shy and very brainy. It’s just that he couldn’t figure out why this particular woman? How had Randy known that, above all the other women in the world, Jill was the one? His buddy had dated women who were certainly more beautiful, more adventuresome, more sophisticated. Why her? Why now? How was she different from the rest?

“Yes?” Eden prompted.

“Flashy. I pictured him with a colorful, flamboyant woman.”

“From what you tell me, Randy seems pretty flamboyant all on his own.”

“He is.”

“So maybe opposites attract?”

Their gazes met and that same arc of electricity that had called to him on the street surged again with startling clarity. Opposites attract, eh? What about this sudden chemistry between them? They were anything but opposites. A woman who spent her days concocting erotic fantasies had to be just as sexually adventurous as he.

“Maybe. They’re doing this second virginity thing. Personally, I don’t get it, but Randy claims they’re not having sex until after the wedding to prove their love for each other.” He shrugged.

“Randy’s newfound celibacy and choice of mates isn’t what’s really bothering you, is it? It’s the simple fact he’s getting married.”

“Bothering me?” Alec stepped back. “Who says I’m bothered about Randy getting married.”

“You’re losing your stag partner.”

“What?” He blinked at her.

“When Randy got engaged to Jill, you no longer had someone to go chasing babes with. No strip-club buddy. No one with whom to take potshots at married life. Plus, as his business partner you’re fretting that his marriage will affect his career choices.”

Alec stared, open mouthed. He was taken aback by her insight. How could she know that ever since Randy met Jill he’d felt not only left out but also worried about the future of their business?

It was one thing for two carefree bachelors to publish a magazine called Single Guy. It was quite another for one of those bachelors to be shackled in matrimony. Alec feared Randy would forget how to connect with their happily single readership and the magazine would lose its competitive edge.

And secretly, in the dark recesses of his mind, in a place he refused to acknowledge existed, Alec was jealous. Not of married life. Oh, no. He realized that particular institution wasn’t for him, but of the special closeness Jill and Randy shared. Seeing them together sometimes made him wonder if indulging in daredevil sports, hopping from trendy nightclub to trendy nightclub, attending lavish parties, and wining and dining local celebrities was all there was to life.

He hated being forced to examine his lifestyle choices.

What he needed in order to shake off this woefully inappropriate “third wheel” feeling was a good old-fashioned fling with a woman who knew lots of naughty bedroom tricks. Indulging in the thrill of the chase never failed to lift his spirits.

And from the looks of this erotic shop and the seethe of sexual chemistry oozing between them, he suspected Eden was exactly the kind of woman he was looking for. And he was already having wickedly wonderful thoughts about how to please her in bed.

She was asking him more questions about Jill and Randy. What kind of fabrics they liked, their favorite movies, their mood music.

But Alec wasn’t listening. All he could think about was kissing those luscious lips of hers.

“I had no idea this process was so involved,” he said, but he was thinking, How can I get you into my arms?

“Oh, yes.” She nodded. “When you buy an Eden Montgomery original you’re getting much more than sex toys in a basket. You’re purchasing a gift of art from the heart as well as a treat for the senses.”

Man, did he want to experience her treats firsthand. She was exactly what the doctor ordered. A shot of pure sexual adventure to chase away his “my-best-friend-is-getting-married” blues.

“Sarah did say she’d never seen anything quite like your baskets.”

“I must warn you, gift consultation can take as long as an hour.”

“No kidding.”

“I’m a stickler for details, but you can rest assured your friends will appreciate your gift. I guarantee my work.”

A brilliant idea occurred to him. Alec checked his watch. “If the consultation takes an hour then I can’t do this today. I’ve got an appointment in Midtown in forty-five minutes. Plus I don’t have all the data you need. How about this—I talk to Randy, find out more about Jill’s likes and dislikes.” He reached into a pocket for his business card and passed it over to her. “You drop by my office around one tomorrow afternoon, I’ll buy you lunch for your trouble and we can do the consultation then. How does that sound?”

Eden accepted his card and stared down at it. She hesitated a moment and his heart did that idiotic beat-skipping thing again.

She’s going to say no, he thought, and his spirits plummeted.

What in the hell was the matter with him? He hadn’t been this nervous since his high school prom. Blame his uncharacteristic anxiety on a long dry spell.

Speaking of second virginity, he’d been celibate for the past eight months. Not because he hadn’t had plenty of opportunities, but simply because no one had excited him to the point of making an effort.

Until now.

She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue then raised her eyes to meet his again.

Thump-thump-thump went his ticker.

“Okay,” she said. “Why not?”

SHE HAD A DATE.

For the first time in almost a year she had a date. A date with—Eden stared at the card still clutched in her hand—Alec Ramsey.

The little rectangle of stiff paper burned a hole in her palm, but already the powerful rush of creative sexual energy she had experienced in his presence was starting to dissipate. Had she imagined it all?

Come on, it’s not a date, niggled her nay-saying voice. It’s a business luncheon.

Before she had time to argue with herself about the “date” versus “not date” status of her appointment with Alec, Ashley and Mrs. Lockerbee pounced.

“Omigod,” Ashley clutched her hand to her heart. “Was that guy gorgeous or what?”

“Not only gorgeous,” Mrs. Lockerbee said. “But rich and famous, too.”

“Famous?” Eden furrowed her brow.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t recognize him?” Mrs. Lockerbee clicked her tongue.

“That’s because you were too busy drooling,” Ashley commented. “Not that I blame you one tiny bit. And the cool thing was, he seemed just as taken with you.”

“He didn’t.”

“Oh, but he did.” Ashley nodded knowingly.

“His card just gives his name, business address and phone number. Don’t leave me hanging in suspense, Jayne. Who is Alec Ramsey?”

Jayne telegraphed her a wicked smile. “Why, darling, that perfect specimen of manhood is none other than the publisher of Single Guy magazine and the most eligible bachelor in Manhattan.”

“You know him personally?”

“Last year we served on the board of the Kids Count charity together. He’s very big into helping underprivileged youths and he really means what he says. He’s not just some rich guy throwing money around to boost his public image.”

“I would never have guessed it.” He looked so sophisticated and polished Eden had a hard time imagining him hanging with street kids.

“Alec lost his own father when he was in his teens, a heart attack I think, and it had a lasting impact on him. He doesn’t take anything for granted. That’s why he works so hard. I think his earnestness just adds to his sex appeal.”

“I’m meeting him for lunch tomorrow.”

“Get outta here!” Ashley gave her a playful shove. “You go, woman.”

“Only to discuss a gift consultation. It’s just business.”

“The way you’re smiling indicates it’s much more than just business.” Jayne wagged a knowing finger.

“Okay,” Eden confessed, her grin spreading and giddiness flitting through her. “It could be more than business. We’ll see.”

“This totally rocks,” Ashley enthused. “Now maybe you’ll have hot sex and get your groove back.”

“Hey, hey, don’t go jumping to conclusions. I’m simply meeting him for lunch.”

Now that Ashley had expressed out loud the thoughts revolving in her head, Eden’s prudent side kicked in and a panicky fear gripped her. She wasn’t like her freewheeling, irresponsible mother. She could not have a wild affair with a stranger even if he had jumped-started her libido and her imagination with a single rakish grin. The fact that she was even considering such a thing tempted her to break the date.

Play it safe. Call him up and tell him you can’t meet him. You can do the gift consultation over the phone. No need for a face-to-face.

Ah, now there was the rub. She had been listening to her nay-saying, fussbudget voice for too long. Playing it safe hadn’t gotten her anywhere. It was way past time she took a risk, moved from her comfort zone and stepped out of the box.

“Lunch could turn into a little afternoon delight,” Ashley ribbed her.

“But I don’t know anything about this guy.”

“I do,” Jayne said, raising a hand. “He’s rumored to be an excellent lover.”

“You guys!” Eden rolled her eyes. “You’re putting the cart way before the horse.”

“And you’re just scared to take a chance.” Ashley made clucking noises and flapped her arms like a chicken. “Admit it.”

“Okay, guilty as charged. I’m scared spitless.”

“What are you afraid of?” Jayne asked.

“Oh, no,” Ashley teased, dramatically clutching her head in her hands and moaning. “Now you’ve gone and done it.”

“Done what?” Jayne glanced from Ashley to Eden.

“You’ve given an ‘in’ to her worst-case scenario voice.”

“Her what?”

Eden glared at Ashley. “Thanks a lot.”

“Go ahead,” Ashley said. “Show Jayne how neurotic you can get.”

“It’s not neurotic to project future complications based on current information.” Eden pursed out her bottom lip. “It’s merely prudent.”

“Let’s do it then,” Ashley challenged her.

“All right,” she said, deciding to play the game her impertinent assistant had invented in defense against Eden’s worrywart tendency. She had to confess, the game often worked to quell her fears when little else did. She squared off with Ashley toe-to-toe. “What if he has bad breath?”

“Then give him a Tic-Tac.”

“What if he’s a rotten kisser?”

“You explain to him exactly how you prefer to be kissed.”

“What if he has an itty-bitty penis?”

“It’s the motion of the ocean that counts, all that matters is that he rocks your boat.”

Jayne giggled. “You two are so funny.”

“Okay,” Eden said, growing serious as she risked expressing the real fears pyramiding inside her. “What if he thinks I’m a lousy lay?”

“Ooh,” Jayne said. “I can help you with that one. If there’s ever anything you want to know about driving a man wild in bed, I’m your go-to gal. Call me anytime.”

Ashley spread her palms. “There you are. Problems solved.”

Eden gulped. “All right, smarty-pants. Here’s the biggie. Worst-case scenario. What if he’s repulsed by my burn scars, can’t get it up when he sees me naked and then he rejects me?”

Undaunted, Ashley jutted out her chin and challenged, “Best-case scenario. He thinks you’re beautiful no matter your scars and your crazy worst-case-scenario voice. He’s a great kisser with minty breath and he’s got a gigantic penis. You have splendid sex and get your creativity back. Business booms, you fall madly in love, get married, buy a house in Connecticut, have three kids, two cats and a Pomeranian named Kibble and thirty years from now you’re still playing Tarzan and Jane with each other just like Mr. and Mrs. Lockerbee.”

Eden sucked in her breath. Did she dare to dream that dream? Was she brave enough to take a step toward claiming her sexuality?

Do it. Take a chance. What have you got to lose?

What indeed?

She’d been holding herself in reserve for too long. By not taking risks, she’d closed herself off to her creative wellspring. She needed more intimacy, not only with her work, but with her body as well.

She glanced at the basket in the window, the one completely lacking in pizzazz. That unexciting basket made her decision for her. If she wanted to get her inspiration back she had to take charge and move forcefully toward her goals.

She was going to lunch with Alec Ramsey. How else would she ever discover if those sparks between them would come to nothing or might lead to something wickedly wonderful?

3

THE NEXT MORNING excitement over his upcoming date with Eden had Alec prowling the hallways of the Single Guy offices located on the fourteenth floor of Trump Towers. His exuberant edginess, as it so often did, spilled over onto his employees.

He was walking fast and talking faster, okaying cover art for the upcoming edition, sending a writer back to the drawing board on a feature article that hadn’t turned out as expected, double-checking appointments with his executive assistant, Holden.

Everyone took his or her cue from his go-go-go attitude. They were keyed up and working at a frantic pace. Everyone, that is, except taciturn Holden, who always remained calm no matter what was happening around him. The young man’s unruffled aplomb was the very reason Alec had hired him. He needed an assistant who balanced his own impulsive nature. Holden kept him grounded when Alec might have otherwise gotten off track following his quicksilver mind wherever it chose to flow.

“Reschedule my one-o’clock workout with Randy,” Alec told Holden. “Something’s come up.”

Holden, who at twenty-two was more efficient than many executive assistants twice his age, swiftly made a notation in his Palm Pilot. “Oh, and by the way, your uncle is in your office.”

“Mac?” Alec broke into a smile. “He’s back from Fiji?”

Holden nodded. “Helping himself to your Scotch, I might add.”

“He can help himself to anything he wants,” Alec’s grin widened. “I am what I am today because of Uncle Mac.”

“I’ll restock.”

Alec pushed into his office to find his tanned, lean-muscled uncle sitting cocked back in the plush leather chair that had once belonged to him. Mac looked a little tired, however, that is until he flashed Alec a row of straight white teeth and raised his tumbler of Scotch in a salute.

“You old dog!” Alec exclaimed, slipping around the desk to embrace Mac in a bear hug as he rose to his feet. “You’re back early.”

“There’s only so much of those warm tropical breezes and sultry island girls a man can take.”

“Yeah, right.”

Mac set his glass down and feigned a boxing move. Alec feigned in return. They embraced again, slapping each other on the back. His father’s younger brother had never been married and never aspired to be. He was the consummate playboy and Alec’s mentor, teaching him everything he knew both about the publishing industry and how to seduce women. For forty-nine years Mac had lived the very life he extolled in the pages of Single Guy before turning over the helm to Alec and Randy the previous year.

“So,” Mac prompted. “Any interesting conquests while I was gone?”

“Nope, no one.” Alec shook his head. Without understanding why, he really didn’t want to tell Mac about Eden. Besides, there wasn’t much to tell.

Yet.

Mac wagged his head. “Boy, you’ll never live up to my reputation if you keep spending so much time on the sidelines.”

“You’re a legend, Uncle Mac, there’s no living up to you.”

His uncle laughed, but the jocularity seemed forced and Alec wondered if something was wrong. “Well, you might not be the hound dog I was, but you’ve got the soft soap down pat.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“By the way.” Mac tapped the October issue of Single Guy lying open on the desk. “While I was waiting on you I checked out your last editorial. All Women Are Goddesses, Let’s Treat Them That Way.” He hooted. “You really believe that?”

“Yes. Don’t you?” Alec did believe women were goddesses. Nothing fascinated him more than the fairer sex. He loved the smell of them, their softness, the way their minds worked. Chalk it up to having four sisters. Fact was, he adored the women. Tall ones, short ones, plump ones, thin ones. He made no discrimination. That’s why he couldn’t commit to just one. There were simply too many wonderful ladies walking the face of the earth.

“All women are goddesses?” Mac arched an eyebrow.

“All women,” Alec said firmly.

“Even the…”

“Don’t go there.” Alec shook his head.

“Your Eagle Scout ethics are showing, but I’m betting that article got you laid ten times over.”

“Actually no. That’s part of the new sexual etiquette. No taking advantage of provocative situations.”

“Hell, then what’s the point? You might as well get married along with your buddy Randy.”

Alec studied his uncle. Something was going on. “You know I’m not interested in getting married.”

“Just remember that. The last thing you want is to end up straitjacketed in suburbia, working two jobs to support five kids, only to die of a heart attack way before your time.”

“That wouldn’t happen to me.”

“Because I made it my mission in life to save you from my brother’s fate. Thank God, I succeeded. Can you imagine yourself living in Connecticut and trotting home on the train to your sweet little wife who’ll only give you nooky twice a month with the lights off if you’re lucky, three rug-rats with attention deficit disorder, two neurotic cats and a dog who won’t quit peeing on the carpet?”

“No, I can’t imagine it.” Alec shifted his weight uncomfortably.

They’d had this conversation many times before and, while he was glad to see Mac, he really didn’t want to get his uncle started on his favorite soapbox issue.

What he wanted was to get on the phone and make reservations for his lunch with Eden. He could have gotten Holden to make the arrangements, but for some odd reason Alec wanted to handle it himself. He glanced at his wristwatch.

“I won’t keep you,” Mac said, picking up on his signal. “I just dropped by to invite you to dinner with Sophie and me.”

“Which one is she again?”

“You remember Sophie. I’ve dated her on and off for fifteen years. Leggy redhead, Southern accent, killer rack.”

“Now, now,” Alec chided. He’d never realized before how immature his uncle sometimes sounded. “No objectifying women.”

Mac shook his head. “Good thing I retired when I did. I can’t keep up with all these new rules. Oh, by the way, Sophie’s got a date all lined up for you.”

Alec winced. “Listen, Mac, I don’t know about this blind date.”

“Shh. You’re the publisher of Single Guy. You’ve got a reputation to uphold and, seeing as how your partner has decided to up and get married, the mantle of sustained bachelorhood rests firmly on your shoulders. Gotta show the world you’re all about the fun. Besides, Sophie says her friend used to be a circus acrobat.” Mac winked. “Bet you never dated one of those.”

“You got me there.”

“I’ll send a car around at six. We’re going to see The Producers after dinner at Kim Sum’s. I’ll spring for the check.”

Alec didn’t want to go on a blind date, but he hadn’t seen Mac for over a month. It was the least he could do for his uncle. “Sure. Okay. See you tonight.”

The minute the door closed behind Mac, Alec plopped into his chair and reached for the telephone. Circus acrobat be damned. He had a sexy, erotic gift-basket designer on the hook and he wasn’t about to let her get away.

Alec made reservations at an intimate restaurant on Forty-fourth Street that was way overpriced for lunch, but what the hell? What was the point of having money if you couldn’t use it to spoil a special lady? He was definitely looking to impress her.

Eden represented the kind of naughty, no-strings-attached relationship he’d been searching for since Randy had announced his engagement. Showing her a great time would remind him exactly how good it was to be single, footloose and fancy-free.

He rubbed his palms together, requested the restaurant’s most expensive bottle of champagne, asked them to ice it and then called his florist to order a small bouquet of flowers. He planned on laying his cards on the table, giving Eden the full court press. He wanted her to know exactly what was on his mind—that he was very attracted to her, but he wasn’t the marrying kind.

Alec didn’t want to waste either of their time with silly mind games, nor did he want her to get hurt. If his initial impression of her had been wrong and she wasn’t all about fun and adventure, then he needed to know that now.