Читать книгу Wedding Chocolate - Adrianne Byrd - Страница 17

Chapter 10

“I’m not going,” Isabella declared after staring at the stranger in the mirror for the past hour. She had signed up for a makeover—not to look as though she’d enlisted in the federal witness protection program where she could only be identified by fingerprints.

“Of course you’re going,” Keri said, sliding a gold hoop earring through her ear. “You look fabulous.”

Waqueisha bobbed her head in agreement as she slipped into a red backless number and then jumped into a pair high-heel pumps.

Instead of Waqueisha’s place, they had all agreed to dress at the downtown Ritz Carlton because it was closer to The Zone—where the CD release party was being held.

“You didn’t do all this hard work for nothing. Just think of tonight as a practice run for when you return to D.C.”

“I show up like this and I’ll probably be disowned and Randall may not give his ring back.”

“Sounds like a win-win situation,” Keri said and glanced at her watch.

Isabella didn’t miss the “amen” looks that passed between her sorors. In truth, since she had removed her ring, it felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She would enjoy her small time of freedom—at least try to anyway. She rubbed the bare space on her ring finger again, dreading when she’d have to put the pretty shackle back on. And she would have to put it back on. Her father would see to it.

“We better get a move on, girls. We’re running late.”

Isabella twisted and turned in a white Chanel number better suited for the red carpet. Her bright hair color did look better with the slanted bob and her new makeup transformed her from ordinary to...different—at best. She took another long look at herself in the mirror. “I’m not going,” she announced. “I can’t.”

“C’mon, Izzy.” Keri wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave them a hearty squeeze. “You’re going to have a good time.”

“Trust me,” Keri insisted with another hearty squeeze. “Would I steer you wrong?”

* * *

Derrick and his boys entered through the doors of The Zone ready to play. One look around at the exotic décor let everyone know that no expense was spared. But what drew every man’s eye were the scantily clad women in pearl thongs and breast pasties.

Stanley sighed and looked like he was ready to start drooling. “Did we just die and go to heaven?”

The boys laughed.

“Stan, my man,” Hylan said, wrapping his arm around Stanley’s pencil thin neck. “If you can’t score tonight, you won’t have to ever worry about when to retire your playa’s card. We’ll take it from you.”

During a rumble of laughing agreement, Stanley turned ten shades of red.

“Thanks, guys. No pressure.”

“Go get ’em, tiger.” Taariq pounded Stanley’s back and then gave him an encouraging shove.

“Drinks?” a feminine voice floated from behind them.

Derrick turned toward a smiling ebony beauty wearing the themed pearl thongs and pasties. After nodding his appreciation of her feminine curves, Derrick placed his drink order.

“Looks like someone’s not so sick of the game anymore,” Charlie chuckled before placing his own order.

Derrick didn’t bother to defend himself. Just because he was getting tired of the playa’s life didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate a fine woman when he saw one.

Minutes later, the guys separated and melted into the crowd. A few times, Derrick made it onto the dance floor with barely-twenty-one Kidd Rhymes groupies dropping it like it’s hot. Though he was having a good time and enjoyed the couple of drinks that had already hit his bloodstream, Derrick longed for something more.

* * *

Isabella felt like a fish out of water the moment she entered The Zone. Seeing so many hip and beautiful people milling about pushed all of her insecurity buttons. Who was she kidding? She could never blend in with this crowd. She was a straight-laced tax attorney and daughter to one of the most powerful men in Washington.

She didn’t belong here.

“Relax,” Keri shouted over the ridiculously loud music. “You look like you’re ready to turn tail and run.”

That was exactly what she wanted to do.

“Yeah, loosen up,” Sylvia shouted above the music.

Waqueisha tapped her on her left shoulder and also yelled, “I gotta go play hostess. Have a good time.”

Before Isabella could say abracadabra, Waqueisha disappeared into the crowd.

“Drinks?” a honeyed baritone questioned.

Isabella turned and her mouth dropped open at the sight of the waiter’s mountain-size and chocolate-covered muscles. She might have licked her lips at his cut abs and his itsy-bitsy loincloth, but she wasn’t sure.

“Sure,” Keri responded first. “I’ll have you in a tall glass.”

“Make that two,” Isabella co-signed and then blushed at hearing the words come out of her mouth.

Keri and Rayne laughed at her boldness.

“Look out, Atlanta,” Keri boasted. “Izzy is letting her hair down tonight.”

The waiter winked at Isabella and she nearly died in embarrassment.

“Make it two grape martinis and walk away slowly so we can drool.”

“You got it,” the waiter said with a wink and then did exactly what Keri bided.

“I can’t believe I said that.” Isabella covered a hand over her face.

“I’m proud of you,” Keri said, bumping her hips against Isabella’s. “There just might be hope for you yet.”

Encouraged, Isabella brightened and tried to relax.

That was also when she saw him.

There, bumping and grinding against a Ciara look-alike, was the incredibly handsome Derrick Knight. Isabella blinked once, twice and then finally a third time before she believed her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.

Keri followed her stare.

“C’mon. Let’s dance,” Keri whispered in her ear, giggling before she grabbed hold of Isabella’s wrist and dragged her toward the dance floor.

“No. Wait,” Isabella protested.

Keri marched on, giving no sign that she heard or felt Isabella trying to dig in her heels.

Keri ignored the fact Derrick was in the middle of getting his groove on and tapped him on the shoulder.

Isabella’s breath hitched when he cast a glance over his shoulder and froze.

“Hey, Good-looking,” Keri shouted, beaming her pearly whites. “Care to join us?”

Isabella noticed the woman he’d been dancing with spear Keri with a contemptuous glare, but another man quickly stepped in and she resumed dancing as if nothing happened.

Keri started dancing too, but Isabella couldn’t get her brain to issue orders for her hips and feet to start moving.

Derrick smiled, undoubtedly reveling in Isabella’s discomfort. “I’d love to join you.” He took the middle spot between her and Keri and started swaying his hips.

Isabella tried not to stare, but watching him move accelerated her body’s temperature and dried her palate. She desperately needed a drink.

“What’s the matter?” Derrick chuckled. “You don’t know how to dance?”

From behind him, Keri was bugging her eyes and rolling her hands trying to get Isabella to join in on the fun.

“It’s easy,” he said, settling his large hands on her hips. “Just follow my rhythm.”

She tried. Honest to goodness, she did, but the feel of his hands on her body caused a near sensory overload.

Derrick moved closer. “Like this.” He moved her hips from side to side.

Isabella followed his lead and after a few beats, he drew their bodies even closer, until the tips of her breasts brushed against his hard chest. She drew in a small gasp and lifted her gaze to his intense stare. After that, the rest of the world melted away.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” he murmured. “I thought I would never see you again.”

Neither did she, but she didn’t tell him that—mainly because she seemed to have forgotten how to talk.

He continued on as if he hadn’t noticed she’d been struck dumb. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you didn’t like me. But just in case I did say something foolish to offend you, I hope you’d now accept my apologies.” His gaze again slid over her body. “Forgive me, but was your hair orange the last time we met?”

Gasping yet again, Isabella stopped dancing and lifted a hand to her short bob.

“It’s—” Derrick struggled for the right word. “Different.”

Isabella whirled around on her heel with intentions to march away, but Derrick’s hands returned to her waist and he spun her around so in the end, she’d made a complete circle.

“Oh, no you don’t.” He chuckled. “You’re not running away from me this time. At least not until we’re finished dancing.”

At long last, she managed to unglue her tongue. “Dance with—” She glanced about; but was surprised, though she shouldn’t have been, to see Keri had disappeared.

“C’mon now. I can’t be that repulsive,” Derrick said, following her gaze. “Before meeting you, I found that most women liked my company.”

“Then I’ll leave you to your fan club,” Isabella replied bitterly and then made another attempt to strand him on the dance floor.

“My, my, my. That’s quite a temper you have there.”

“What? I do not!” she snapped and then during his resulting laughter realized that her tone contradicted her words. “Oh, whatever.” She made a third attempt to escape, but his firm hold was having none of that.

“Let go,” she growled and despite the loud music she knew that he had heard her.

Derrick ignored the order. “If I let go, you’ll run away.”

“That is the idea,” she said sweetly.

“And the reason I’m not letting you go.” He shared a magnanimous smile. “Looks like we have a stalemate.”

Isabella couldn’t remember ever being so angry. Who did this idiot think he was?

“So why did you change your hair?” Derrick asked, ignoring her narrowed gaze and darkening face. “I liked it long...and black.”

“Nobody asked you what you liked,” she spat.

Derrick shrugged, never missing a beat while moving to the music. “I just figured that you’d like a man’s opinion. I imagine it’s the reason for this drastic change in your clothes and makeup. That or you’re looking for a drastic change in careers. A lady of the evening, perhaps—or video vixen?”

His words completed her humiliation and tears stung her eyes.

Seeing her distress, Derrick stopped his teasing and loosened his hold. “Oh, I’m sorry. I—I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No? Telling a woman that she looks like a hooker was meant to be a compliment?”

He winced and finally stopped dancing. “I’m sorry,” he said, and truly looked as though he were. “I was just trying to say I liked you the way you were.”

As quickly as his harsh words had wounded her pride, the new ones had mended it and even caused a warm flush of pleasure to blaze through her body.

Derrick’s keen gaze caught how the apples of her cheeks darkened and he was pleased that he’d finally wrangled his way onto her good side. “All’s forgiven?”

When Isabella lifted her tranquil maple-brown eyes to his, a strange rush of emotion flooded his senses. His brain scrambled, trying to make some sense of what was happening to him; but the only answer that seemed to fit came from an old familiar voice.

When you look into her eyes and her soul speaks to you. That’s a love worth dying for.

Derrick broke eye contact to search for her engagement ring. At the sight of her bare, slender fingers, his smile bloomed wider. “What do you say we head over to the bar?”

Her hesitancy frightened him a moment. What could he really do if she’d said no? After she made a few cursory glances around her, she responded, “One drink.”

He complied with a simple nod and then led her off the dance floor with one arm still locked around her waist in silent possession. However, it took a little work finding a spot at one of the club’s multiple bars.

“Two Incredible Hulks,” Derrick yelled to the bartender.

“Two what?” Isabella inquired.

Derrick turned up the charm to full blast. “Trust me. You’ll love them.” He moved his stool closer so he could have her all to himself in a private alcove. Instead of getting upset, this time his mysterious woman smiled.

“So when are you going to tell me your name?”

She hesitated. “Isabella.”

He repeated the name and then shortened it to, “Bella.”

“I guess anything is better than Izzy,” she confessed. “My friends call me that.”

His brows quirked in surprise. “If you don’t like it, why do your friends call you that?”

“Old habit. I let them get away with it in college and it stuck.” She shrugged. “I guess I was hoping it would grow on me.”

“And it hasn’t?”

She laughed as she shook her head. “I hate it.”

“Your drinks, sir.” The bartender set the radioactive-looking drinks down on the bar. “Enjoy.”

Derrick lifted his drink and proposed a toast. “To your new nickname ‘Bella.’ May you think of me every time you hear it.”

Isabella laughed at the absurd proposal, but lifted her drink anyway. Together they took their first sips, their gazes locking above the rim of their glasses.

She couldn’t describe the charge of emotions his smoldering black gaze caused nor could she rationalize why this gorgeous man seemed so interested in her. Even with her enhanced figure, there were bigger breasts and bigger booties to chase on the dance floor. Yet, Derrick Knight seemed to only have eyes for her.

It was a glorious feeling and it was one that she hoped to enjoy for at least a little while longer.

“So,” Derrick said, setting his drink aside. “Read any good books lately?”

Isabella choked.