Sultry Pleasure

“Marcus!”

Reynaldo’s voice pulled him from his reverie. The slender, dark-haired man appeared at Marcus’s side in his tuxedo, black bow tie against his gleaming white shirt. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it.”

Marcus hadn’t been sure he’d make it either. After a long night and morning at a party in Coconut Grove, he hadn’t been in the mood for anything more than his bed. But responsibility had kicked in. He shrugged off his exhaustion, showered and looked over his secretary’s notes about what was supposed to happen at the event. The Prism Gala was a good PR opportunity for Sacrum Holdings. His donations to their various charities made his company look good and made him look good.

“The committee appreciates your presence,” Reynaldo said. “And I do as well.”

“Of course.” Marcus nodded and shook the man’s hand. “Where are we sitting?”

The VP showed him to a table near the front of the room, a brief walk through the large ballroom that felt like a parade. How many CEOs had shown up to see one of their executives honored? Marcus knew he was one of the few and was being looked at positively as a result. The members of the Prism committee may be a tight-assed lot, but they were also very powerful. You never know when you might need a favor, Marcus thought as he unbuttoned his blazer and sank into the plush chair at Reynaldo’s side.

The ceremony began shortly after they sat, with the music winding all the way down and the conversations tapering off as the host, an excited-looking woman in her mid-forties, Sheila Beck, made her way to the stage and took the microphone. Marcus relaxed in his seat, bracing his elbows on top of the table as he looked around the crowded ballroom.

It was a sea of sameness. Tuxedos, gray dresses and black dresses, pearls, jewels, the occasional flare of a pale blue or green dress, the women for the most part keeping to the traditional muted tones, even though this was Miami. Marcus had no respect for such boring presentation.

Instead of traditional black tie, he wore what he wanted. A red handkerchief in the pocket of his black blazer, the white button-down shirt open at the collar. Black jeans and high-top Jordans. Needlessly rebellious, he knew, but it made him feel better about being trapped indoors for something like this when he’d rather be out making money or playing on his boat.

His eyes found Diana a few tables back. She was watching him. He grinned but she quickly looked away, fiddling with her earring. When he failed to compel her to look at him again through the power of his stare alone, he turned his attention back to the ceremony.

Sheila Beck and her fellow committee members put on a good show. Lively and fast. Reynaldo received his award to much applause while Sacrum Holdings was unexpectedly honored as one of the most environmentally sound companies in Miami. Instead of leaving like he’d originally planned, Marcus sat in his seat, held prisoner by the slim possibility that Diana would go somewhere with him after the ceremony.

Applause. Speeches. The apparent surprise award to one of the women sitting at Diana’s table—a gray-haired woman with more style than half the women in the room, although she did wear the least offensive color imaginable. Marcus took note of the organization, the woman’s name and the fact that she took her time as she grasped the crystal statuette in hands that shook. The woman was gracious on the stage, and brief. She thanked each of her staff by name, including Diana Hobbes, who was apparently the assistant executive director of Building Bridges. Interesting.

Building Bridges was one of the nonprofits he donated to every year. Small world.

As soon as the ceremony was over, Marcus made his way over to Diana’s table. Most of the gala’s attendees still lingered in the ballroom, grabbing one last drink from the open bar or rabidly shaking as many well-connected hands as they could.

Diana was still seated and talking quietly with her boss. As Marcus moved toward her, he was struck again by how delicate and delicious she looked. His imagination easily conjured what it would be like to walk up to her and kiss the back of her neck, inhale the evocative scent of her perfume, peel that ice-blue dress from her body. He stopped just behind her chair and greeted the other women around the table with a nod and smile.

“How about that midnight walk on the beach?” he asked, resting his hands on the back of her chair.

Diana drew in a breath of surprise but did not bother to look at him. She glanced instead at her boss and then at her friend Trish, who smirked up at Marcus.

“I can’t,” Diana said. “I have to wrap things up here with Nora,” she said.

Her boss waved a dismissive hand. “No, you don’t. Take a little time to yourself this evening. It’s been a long and hard road to get here. Enjoy yourself.” She gave a naughty grin of her own.

“Yes, please do,” Trish said, staring pointedly at her friend.

“Well, Diana, it looks like the only resistance is you,” he said, finally able to meet her eyes, which were a deep, velvet brown. “I would really enjoy your company tonight.”

“Go ahead, Di,” Trish said. “A night with this one won’t bring an end to your carefully constructed world, I promise.”

Diana flinched as if her friend had touched a nerve. She bit her lip. “Okay,” she said. “But I don’t do the beach.” She allowed him to grasp her hand and help her to her feet.

Marcus smiled at Diana’s boss and at her friend. “Thank you for the encouragement, ladies. Have a wonderful night.”

“You, too,” Trish said with a wink.

Diana made a strangled noise. “I’ll see you on Monday, Nora. I’ll be in early to make sure the photos from tonight are up on the website and the copy is ready for the newsletter and press release.”

Her boss waved her off. “Of course you will.”

Trish stood up and slapped Diana on the butt. “I’ll expect you to give me all the details tonight.”

Marcus laughed. “You ready?”

“Yes,” Diana said, giving her friend the side eye.

He offered her his arm and, after a moment’s hesitation, she took it. With her purse clutched in her hand, she walked out of the ballroom with him.

Plums, he realized after a few moments walking at her side through the thinning crowd. She smelled like rosemary and plums. A delicious and fresh sweetness that he had the sudden urge to sink his teeth into. Marcus licked his lips.

“So,” he said to distract himself from her scent and the imagined flavor she would leave behind on his tongue. “Why don’t you do the beach? You can’t swim?”

“I can swim,” she said. “I just choose not to.”

“Why?”

“I think it’s too early yet for that kind of conversation, don’t you?” She looked at him sideways.

“Not at all,” Marcus said. “The sooner I know what you don’t like and why, the better I can plan our next date. So now I know not to plan a romantic dinner for you on my boat.”

“Oh, God, no!”

A man and a young woman who looked like his mistress were already waiting for the elevator when they got there. The woman was beautifully put together in her tight white dress and red heels, her shoulder-length brown hair the same shade as her skin. But there was something almost desperate in the way she clung to him. Marcus nodded in greeting to both while Diana exchanged smiles with them.

“What about an afternoon on the sand?” Marcus asked, continuing their conversation. “No water, just a picnic and a bottle of wine.”

“No.”

He tipped his head to look down at her in curiosity. “Really?”

When the elevator arrived, Marcus held the door open and waited for both women to get into the car ahead of him. After the other man got in behind him, he pressed the button for the lobby. Classical music played as the car descended toward the main floor. The elevator’s mirrored surfaces reflected the two couples studiously avoiding each other’s eyes.

“So what do you like?” Marcus asked.

“Simple things,” Diana said after a brief glance at the other occupants of the elevator.

Marcus took the opportunity of the silent ride to properly look his fill of Diana Hobbes. The skin like silk. Her large eyes, high cheekbones and sensuous mouth in the face that was straight from his boyhood dreams. Angelic. Kind. But Diana seemed serious. More serious than anyone he ever thought he’d be interested in. But there was something about her wide mouth, about the way she seemed to want him but didn’t want to want him.

The elevator bell announced their floor just before the doors slid open. Marcus guided her toward the front of the hotel and the valet. He gave the blue-jacketed boy his valet ticket and stood aside to wait with Diana while his car was brought around.

It was another warm Miami night. Already, Marcus felt like shrugging off the blazer, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and getting comfortable. In her pale blue dress, Diana already looked comfortable in the heat, even relieved to be out in it.

Inside the hotel, she had been cold. It had been impossible for him not to notice her tight nipples under the thin dress. The hard points had drawn his eyes more than once. And he had hoped she wouldn’t think him rude or a complete pervert for staring at her breasts when he should have been meeting her eyes. His initial impulse had been to give her his blazer, but the primitively male part of him didn’t want to deny himself the sight of her, an ice queen in her glacier-blue dress, with her vulnerable nipples pressing against the cloth.

“So why no water?” he finally asked after they waited in silence for a moment.

“I’ll tell you when we know each other better,” she said with a faint smile.

“Fair enough,” he said. “I look forward to that deepening relationship.”

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes with her cool brown gaze. Something moved in his chest, but he forced himself not to look away.

“Here you are, sir.” The valet appeared beside them, eager and smiling.

“Thank you.” Marcus slipped him a twenty-dollar bill.

He guided Diana toward the passenger side of the silver Mercedes SLR, which already had both doors open. She climbed in with barely a glance at the car, and he shut her door before getting behind the wheel.

“Thank you for coming out with me tonight,” he said. “You won’t regret it.”

She looked at him, the corners of her eyes crinkling faintly. “Is that a promise?”

“Absolutely.” The car started with a delicate purr and slid away from the curb.

Chapter 2

It was late. After the light dinner she’d barely touched at the award ceremony, and after not eating anything prior to the ceremony because she’d been too busy preparing for it, Diana was starving. She snuck a peek at her watch and saw it was already past eleven. Much later than when she would normally eat, but that didn’t make her hunger any less urgent.

In the seat next to her, Marcus looked like the kind of man who lived most of his life after dark. He seemed all energy and sophistication. One of those men she’d heard about who populated Miami like sand on the beach. But despite living in Miami all her life, this was her first chance to meet one of his breed.

“Are we going out for food?” she asked with a touch of eagerness.

“Yes,” he said, briefly moving his eyes from the road to flash her a smile. “A simple place.”

She raised an eyebrow, remembering the words she had said to him while at the hotel. Yes, she liked simple things. But she sensed a man like Marcus did not. His money afforded him the world—what could he know about the plain ways to make a woman like her happy?

She was counting on that to kill her attraction to him even though, as she sat in his car rich with the smell of new leather, her skin felt nearly electric at his presence. She watched him without him being aware of it, noting again his luscious deep-brown complexion, sculpted mouth, golden eyes that were narrow and short-lashed beneath his prominent brow. His hair was neatly cut, an attractive and undoubtedly expensive style, and his clothes screamed money.

And he was going to take her somewhere simple? Diana’s mouth twitched as she wondered if he even knew what simple was.

Marcus skillfully navigated the car through the streets of downtown Miami, across the bridge that afforded an incredible view of the water lit with lights. Diana sighed. Although she hated the water, the view of Miami at night never ceased to awe her. It was one of the most beautiful cities she’d ever seen, packed with gorgeous people, good food and wine and incredible experiences just waiting to be sampled.

The car pulled up in front of a restaurant that had a line of people waiting to get in that extended halfway down the block. A valet approached the car, opening Marcus’s door and then Diana’s. They got out and he gave the slim woman in a fitted tuxedo outfit the keys to the Mercedes.

Marcus slid the valet ticket into his pants pocket. Then, almost as an afterthought, he shrugged off his blazer and threw it in the backseat of the car. He thanked the valet, then walked with Diana to the back of the long line.

* * *

As Marcus joined her in line, Diana looked at him in surprise and admiration. She’d expected him to approach the front of the line and demand to be seated immediately. Her estimation of him rose.

“What is this place?” she asked

“This is Gillespie’s,” he said. “A nice and simple lounge where we can have a bite to eat, get to know each other and spend the evening together without being on the water.”

She didn’t rise to the teasing bait in his voice. “Sounds nice,” she murmured, amused despite herself.

“I hope you’ll think so when we get in.”

As they waited in line, Diana noticed that a few newcomers left their expensive cars and headed directly to the door, expecting star treatment. But they didn’t get it. People already waiting gave each other knowing looks as the newcomers were directed to the back of the line.

A couple of D-list movie stars were up ahead of her and Marcus. A musician whose song was on rotation on Top 40 stations. And many women who looked like models, tall and haughty with beautifully applied makeup and rich-looking men on their arms.

The line moved quickly, and it wasn’t long before they were inside. Gillespie’s turned out to be more than a restaurant; it was also a lounge and jazz bar. A moody piano played over the speakers, audible through the voices riding the air, setting a sophisticated and mellow mood. Diana liked it right away. The hostess, a gorgeous brown-skinned woman with her long hair twisted in a bun, showed them to a table upstairs that overlooked the stage.

The delicious smell of food wove through the restaurant. As Diana opened her menu, a waiter walked past with a cast-iron skillet sizzling with a mixture of green peppers, onions and shrimp. Diana’s stomach growled. She blushed and looked up at Marcus. He was watching her.

“You’re not looking at the menu,” she said.

“I already know what I want.” His steady look made it clear exactly what he was talking about.

The heat in her face burned even hotter, but she kept her voice level. “The only thing you’ll have in your mouth tonight is listed right there.” She dipped her head toward the closed menu in front of him.

“That sounds very discouraging,” he said with a low laugh.

“I’m just letting you know not to expect anything more than dinner tonight.”

He shrugged. “The pleasure of your company is all I need.”

She rolled her eyes and lifted the menu to look at the offerings. It wasn’t long before their waitress appeared. Marcus placed his order still without looking at the menu. After a hesitating moment, Diana ordered something that looked decent but wasn’t too expensive.

She didn’t want him thinking that just because he paid for a fifty-dollar steak, he was entitled to lay her on her back at the end of the night. Although she worked in the nonprofit world and often relied on rich men and women to keep the good work of the foundation going, she knew all too well that most of them would commodify any woman if given the chance. If they wanted her, those rich people assumed she had a price. Granted, she’d never felt the delicate thrums of attraction for one of them before.

“Why don’t you trust me?” he asked.

“Who said I don’t trust you?” She looked at him with studied innocence.

He chuckled, tilting his head to look at her with his brilliant eyes. “I like you, Diana. I enjoy your company. If at any point you don’t like what’s going on tonight, you can just get up and go. I’ll call you a taxi and that will be that.”

His kindness suddenly made her feel ridiculous. She took a sip of the champagne he’d ordered for them and looked around the restaurant. On stage, a woman had joined the pianist, singing a soulful version of Nina Simone’s “My Baby Just Cares for Me.”

Looking down at the performance, she realized that most of the crowd was actually paying attention to the music, pausing their conversations and their meals to watch the woman with a head of blazing red hair vamp it up while her husky and sensual voice made an invitation out of the song.

“I like it here,” she said after a few minutes watching the singer. “Thank you for bringing me.”

“You’re welcome.”

After their meal came, they sat in a comfortable quiet, allowing the music to fill the spaces between them. The food—a creamy onion soup rich with the taste of butter and garlic, and seared scallops simmered in orange butter and served on a bed of edamame and quinoa—was delicious, probably one of the best meals she’d ever eaten.

Marcus offered to share his braised lamb shank served with red cabbage and gorgeous golden polenta. She declined but watched him eat his meal with obvious pleasure, slowly savoring each bite and licking his lips before taking a sip of the wine.

After the waitress took their dinner plates away, they sat back with drinks to enjoy the performances on the stage. Diana sipped her champagne, sweetly relaxed in her chair as she turned her head to listen to the delicate, intertwined voices of the twin girls, no older than teenagers, who were singing now. She felt Marcus’s eyes on her, a gentle weight, but she did not look up.

“Dance with me,” he said.

In that moment, she couldn’t imagine saying no to him. He guided her to the dance floor near the main stage, where there were only a dozen or so people already dancing. Marcus opened his arms, and she stepped into them.

The twins sang a slow and lulling version of “Blue Gardenia,” one of them sitting on the edge of the stage with her cordless microphone while the other swayed on her feet in front of the corded mic, her voice wrapping the room in a velvet curtain of sound. Their voices were low and deep, surprising for such small girls. Diana tried to focus on them instead of the man whose arms were wrapped around her.

Unlike the last time they danced, she felt an intimacy between them, their bodies moving in slow communion to the strains of the jazz song. He smelled solid and warm, spicy, like cedar and sandalwood.

She pulled his scent into her, unable to help herself. He didn’t pull her into him and force his crotch into hers, only held her delicately, allowing their bodies to come close during the song, then drift back apart. They swayed, and she smelled him. They turned, and his warmth flowed over her. His hand pressed into the small of her back while his thighs brushed against hers during the dance. A whisper of his breath moved at her ear.

“You are beautiful,” he murmured.

And God help her, she believed him.

She slipped her arms around his neck and moved closer, a little horrified that she was so susceptible to flattery. But it felt good that this handsome man thought she was beautiful and wanted to spend time with her. She was enjoying his company. When the song ended, they kept dancing by silent agreement, moving even more slowly as the singers took on a Sade song, “Lover’s Rock.”

Their hips swayed together. Flutters of arousal moved through Diana’s belly, made her skin tingle whenever it touched his. She knew she should be worried, that she should move away from him and regain control of herself, but it felt too good. His touch. The music. The desire winding around them like a silken ribbon.

The song ended and Marcus slid his hands around her waist, pressed his mouth to her forehead.

“I want to kiss you,” he murmured.

She trembled at the urgency in his voice. Her hands tightened for a moment on his shoulders. Her body was hot with the need for that kiss. “Not here,” she said, not sure how she would react to his touch in front of all those people.

He pulled back, took her hand and drew her through the thin crowd of dancers. Down a quiet, wood-paneled hallway. The smell of cigars and wood smoke. Emptiness. He pressed her against the wall, hips against hers, hands planted on either side of her head. His mouth swooped down, lightly touching hers and sweetly asking permission.

Diana parted her lips with a sigh. A sound of pure masculine pleasure rumbled through him as they kissed. Mouths fiercely joined, tongues twining together. He touched her hips, hands hard and warm on her. Arousal rippled through her. She sank her nails into his back through the thin shirt and he made another rough sound, then shoved his hips into hers.

What are you doing?

A part of her rebelled against what she was falling into. But the rest of her rejoiced. She squeezed her thighs together as the arousal built. He licked her mouth, sucking on her tongue, sending a molten feeling straight into her lap. She wanted his hands on her. She wanted him inside her. But...but that couldn’t happen. She wasn’t that kind of girl.

Diana forced herself to pull away from him, palms pressed to his chest, easing away to dim the fires of the sudden and consuming desire.

“Christ! You’re so damn sexy....” He breathed the words against her mouth.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” She bit the inside of her lip to stop herself from inviting him home with her. It had been so long since she’d been with a man she was attracted to like this, a man who was attracted to her in return. Diana dug her fingers into his biceps.

“I want to spend the night with you,” he rasped.

She shook her head, but before the words could pass her lips, he squeezed her waist. “Not like that. Well, I’d like that, but I would settle for seeing the sunrise with you.” He said it as if surprised by the desire. By her. “I want to make the night last.”

“Yes,” she said softly. “Yes. I want that, too.”

He looked relieved. “Good.”

As they walked back to the table, her phone vibrated through her purse. She thought about ignoring it, but the years of being the responsible one in her family wore her down. She took out the phone.

It was a text from her brother, Jason. She already had a missed call from him. His car had broken down somewhere in Coconut Grove, and he wanted her to come get him.

Diana’s jaw tightened as she read her brother’s message. There was no way she could ignore it. But with the fires of possibility burning between her and Marcus, she was tempted to. She bit back a groan of disappointment.

“I have to go,” she said as they got to their table.

Marcus looked at her in surprise, and she winced. Why tonight, of all nights, did Jason need her? If she didn’t know any better, she’d think her brother knew she was this close to finally getting some and wanted to screw things up for her.

Marcus put money on the table for their bill. “I’ll take you back to your car.” She saw disappointment on his face, a naked and vulnerable look, but he didn’t say anything else.

“It’s my brother,” she said softly, feeling the need to explain about her sudden exit. Diana shrugged. “I have to go to him.”

“Family is important,” Marcus said. He pulled her into him, kissed her lightly on the mouth, then pressed briefly into her as if he wanted and needed more. “You don’t have to explain.”