Читать книгу Packed With Pleasure - Lori Wilde - Страница 8

ALEC RAMSEY DOUBLE-CHECKED the Soho address on the slip of paper in his pocket. Yep, Wickedly Wonderful, this was the place his oldest sister Sarah had recommended.

He raised his head and started to move toward the door, but then his eyes landed on the woman in the storefront window and he froze.

Spellbound, he simply stared. She was leaning over, placing something in the window and oh, so slightly exposing just a hint of cleavage. The sight was enough to cause instant sweat to bead on the back of his neck despite the recent drop in temperature.

A burst of wind snatched a red banner from the awning of a nearby building. It sailed down, fluttering in the breeze, until it caught on an updraft just above the storefront window at exactly the same time the woman glanced up.

For a whisper of a second it was a pure Kodak moment. The foxy, heart-faced woman framed by a crimson banner. The effect was mesmerizingly magical. And even after the banner twisted and spiraled away into the wind, Alec couldn’t take his eyes off her.

His heart literally skipped a beat and the unexpected arrhythmia startled him. Usually, the only time his pulse skittered was when he bungee-jumped or hang-glided or skydived.

The sun slipped out from behind a cloud where it had been hiding and glinted off her mass of chestnut curls swept back so fetchingly in a loose ponytail. She wore a long-sleeved turquoise peasant blouse. Not exactly high fashion, but it was definitely romantic. His fingers itched to stroke both the tactile material and what lay intriguingly beyond.

He knew the correct terminology for her garment because he had four sisters who had spent their lives telling him about clothes. He owed them a debt of gratitude. The knowledge came in handy with his active dating life. Women were impressed when a heterosexual male could converse intelligently about fashion.

Their gazes met. And locked.

She possessed the most arrestingly blue eyes he’d ever seen.

Alec swallowed. Hard.

She glanced away quickly but then a moment later she was back, eyeing him with slow, deliberate intent until he felt as if he were a job applicant on an interview.

He couldn’t get into the shop quickly enough.

Wind chimes murmured a musical note as he pushed through the door. The rousing scent of cinnamon candles filled the small room and everywhere he looked he saw something seductive.

Peacock feathers and skimpy panties and black leather masks. Whips and chains and swatches of sensual fabrics. Erotic videos and vibrators and chocolate body paint.

“May I help you?”

He jerked his head around and came face-to-face with his dream woman. Her name tag read Eden. Ah, a woman who crafted erotic gifts named Eden. How apropos.

She smiled, her small but full mouth lifting dazzlingly at the corners. He was aware of a high, humming sexual energy flowing between them.

Her impact was not the strike of a classic beauty but rather like the welcoming influence of a warm, rich hug. An invisible hug that wrapped around him like an aura—distinct and unmistakably her.

She possessed a certain luster that whispered to something deep inside him. Something primal and patently masculine. Something sweetly taboo.

His heart skipped another beat. Amazed at his aberrant reaction, Alec had to clear his throat before he could speak.

“I need…” Damn, how could he think with her studying him like that?

“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?