Читать книгу Scream My Name - Kimberly Kaye Terry - Страница 10

Okay, so now that she’d barged inside, she had to do something.

She thought Brandan was alone, even though his assistant told her he was busy. After she’d come up earlier and had seen the amount of traffic going in and out of his office, she’d decided to retreat and figure out some sort of game plan.

So instead of going to his office, she’d left instead, done a bit of window shopping, absentmindedly strolling around the busy midtown area, her mind working through the puzzle of saving her restaurant.

She’d returned after a hour or so, wanting to catch him before he left for the day. She still didn’t exactly know what she was going to say to him.

Now she stood in the room, with three very interested pair of eyes staring at her, each with varying expressions on their faces.

As Judith firmly closed the door behind her, Leila in turn glanced at each of the men in the room.

She vaguely remembered the assistant telling her that Mr. Walters was leaving after the meeting with his partners. At the time, her only thought had been to catch him before he left for the weekend.

Leila quickly ran an assessing eye over each of them, her natural ability to sum up a man quickly coming to her aid.

Like Brandan, the two other men in the room were large, although neither had the breadth of shoulders and sheer overall intense masculine presence that Brandan did.

These were his partners, she assumed, and the one lounging in the chair closest to Brandan was probably Mateo Sanchez. His olive-colored skin and dark wavy hair suggested that he was.

His eyes, nearly black, ran over her in a lazy, very sexual manner, a look she was quite used to. And though he was gorgeous, with his dark coloring, classic features, and olive-colored complexion set off to perfection against this designer suit—Armani if her guess was correct—his obvious interest didn’t do a thing for her.

She turned her gaze to the third man occupying the room. He too was large, muscled, and one fine specimen of manhood as well. His skin was the color of bitter milk chocolate, and his features were bold, with lips full and luscious, her personal favorite. The kind of lips that devoured a woman in one fatal swoop. The kind of lips a woman would be crazy not to want to devour her.

He must be Damian Reed, the third partner in their firm. Whereas Sanchez’s gaze was openly interested, openly sexual in his appraisal, this man’s was much more subtle, as though he appreciated the way she looked, but that was about it.

Leila wasn’t conceited, but she had a mirror, had grown up with them in fact, so she was quite aware she was attractive. She just didn’t allow it to define her.

So yes, in his dark-eyed gaze she saw male appreciation, but that was all she detected. A quick look at his left hand, with its gleaming gold band, told her the reason.

Although that never stopped half the men she knew from checking out a woman, this one simply gave her the impression that he was curious as to who she was, not that he wanted to get in her panties.

And the eyes told it all. Leila had been taught by her great-aunt that a person’s eyes never lied. Sanchez’s eyes told her he was a player. This man’s eyes told her he wasn’t.

After her quick assessment, she turned to Brandan. And though this was the first time they’d met in person, she felt as though she knew him.

The look in his bright blue eyes shot electric awareness her way, just as she’d experienced downstairs in the lobby, straight to her gut. The same sparks she’d been feeling from the first time they’d exchanged communication, before she’d ever met the man.

She shivered, cleared her throat, and spoke. “I, uh…I thought I’d come by…so that we could continue our business discussion,” she said, clearing her throat again.

She hoped to God he wouldn’t embarrass her by asking what the hell she was talking about. She held her breath.

As soon as she spoke, she saw his eyes narrow, a frown creasing his forehead. Her heart sank straight to her toes and her gut clenched, preparing for him to bust her out.

He surprised her.

“Absolutely. I agree,” he said, and Leila almost sank to the floor in relief.

Some of the nervous flutters in her stomach calmed, and she inhaled a small, quick breath and sent a quiet “thank you” heavenward. “Why don’t you come in, have a seat. My partners and I were just finishing up for the day.”

Leila felt like crossing her arms over her chest in feminine protection against his looks, as he leisurely glanced her over as she stood stiffly in the doorway.

The two stared at each other, the attraction she felt downstairs hitting her again. She tried to ignore it, reminding herself she was on a mission here—not to get laid, but to save her business.

“I thought you had plans, Brandan. I’d be happy to sit in for you with Ms.—”

Leila reluctantly moved her eyes away from Brandan Walters and surveyed the man who was watching the exchange with interested dark brown eyes.

“James,” she replied. “Leila James,” she said, noticing all three men sitting up further in their chairs.

She waited for recognition to set in. The wait wasn’t long.

“Would that be the same Leila James who owns Aunt Sadie’s Café?”

Leila turned to the tall, handsome black man who asked the question, and mentally braced herself to remain calm, stiffening her spine when she noted how the atmosphere in the room subtly changed from idly curious to hostile in five seconds flat.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Didn’t know you had a meeting planned with Ms. James,” the one she assumed was Sanchez casually replied, but Leila wasn’t fooled.

“We’re done here, right gentlemen?” Brandan asked, turning to his partners with expectancy. “Ms. James and I have dinner plans.”

Her head whipped around, surprised. A fiery spark of awareness arced wildly between them as he waited to see if she’d dispute his words. When she only slightly nodded her head, he turned to his partners in satisfaction.

Although both Mateo and Damian rose to their feet, it was Mateo who, with a slightly raised dark brow, asked, “I thought you had plans of a different sort tonight, amigo. Weren’t they with Selena?” He snapped two fingers and “tsked” himself before continuing. “Sorry amigo, that would be Angela, wouldn’t it? Serena was last week, si?” he blithely continued.

He strolled toward Leila with his hand outstretched and a small half grin on his face.

Brandan wanted to knock his gleaming-ass teeth down his throat, anger washing over him in crimson waves.

She allowed Mateo to grasp her hand with both of his. He lifted it to his lips and kissed the back of her hand.

Brandan’s jealousy eased when he caught her withdrawal and the fleeting flash of irritation cross her face before she schooled her expression, and gave his partner a tight smile.

Yes. This was the woman he had come to know through their emails. The kind of woman who, if given the right provocation, would not tolerate such liberties from a man she didn’t know.

“Why don’t you allow me to take you to dinner instead? I’m more than willing to listen to whatever…proposition you have in mind,” Mateo murmured, and when he released her hand, Leila resisted the very tempting desire to wipe her hand on her skirt.

Everyone’s attention was on Brandan, and Leila was fascinated by the slight flush that colored his cheeks.

He walked over to Mateo and, although the two men were of similar height, Brandan seemed, at that moment, to tower over his partner as he stood glowering at him.

“That won’t be necessary, amigo, I can make arrangements to reschedule my other…appointment,” he said, subtly maneuvering his body so that he stood closer to Leila.

Leila looked at both men, biting the inside of her cheek, working this new puzzle in her mind.

By any means necessary.

That was her motto when it came to saving Aunt Sadie’s.

She glanced toward the other partner, as he too came sauntering her way, a look of supreme amusement on his dark handsome face.

“Whichever one of my partners you decide to discuss your situation with, Ms. James, I’m sure you’ll make the right choice.”

Leila tried to discern a deeper meaning in his words from his facial expression, but with that cryptic answer, he wished them all a good weekend and left the office, leaving Leila alone with two men, both of whom wanted, for their own reasons, to take her out to dinner.

She bit back a smile.

Things were looking up for her and Aunt Sadie’s, she thought, hiding her smile of satisfaction as she glanced at each man in turn.