by Tricia Saxby
“This is the Karen I remember.”
Karen spun around and squealed. “Get out!”
“Why? So you can shut me out even more?”
Running a hand through her hair made it look tousled and fresh-out-of-bed sexy. “Don’t take it personally. No one is allowed in here.”
“Meaning a possible roommate or a boyfriend?” His stomach constricted painfully at the thought.
“Yes.”
Yes, what? She has a boyfriend? He turned around to mentally squash the little green monster that had popped up out of nowhere.
“This isn’t my place,” she revealed.
“Considering the state of the main floor, I’d say that’s a relief.”
Karen’s mouth turned upward in a small grin. “I underestimated how hard it’d be to find something to rent. I was so in love with the thought of living in New York that I rushed here with no plans. I almost gave up and went back home. New York isn’t for the weak of heart.”
“No, it isn’t.” He stepped closer, wanting to touch her soft skin, but he didn’t. “You’re not weak.”
“I was desperate.”
“You didn’t do something…sell yourself…?”
“Of course not!” Karen stepped back, breaking the intimacy building between them.
“Then what?”
“A high school friend is putting me up during my internship.”
Must be some friend. “You lucked out. Space in the Big Apple is not so easy to come by.”
“Apparently a prior roommate had moved out, and the room was mine if I wanted it.”
“And what’s your roommate’s story? Why the lack of decor and upkeep downstairs?”
“Well…”
“And what exactly does your roommate do for a living?”
Karen’s cheeks flushed under his interrogation.
“My roommate runs a video game den.”
“A what?”
“A place where gamers come to hang out and play other serious gamers around the world.”
A deep ache sat in the pit of his stomach. “Your roommate isn’t your BFF from high school, is she?”
“Oh, quit running circles around the real issue, Leo. I’m living with a man, okay?”
It wasn’t okay. It was anything but okay. A man who probably figured she owed him because he was providing her with a place to live. Meanwhile, she had to put up with a house full of men who eyed her like candy. The Big Bang Theory popped into his head at that thought.
“Come live with me,” he blurted. Had he just said that?
Karen’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”
Leo stepped in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He couldn’t take back what he’d said now no matter how much his heart thundered in his chest and his stomach constricted in protest. “You deserve better than this odd living situation. And it worries me that your professional gamer friend can afford to renovate the upstairs like a home off HGTV.”
“Leo, don’t be ridiculous. You’re only here for a few more days. Besides, there’s nothing illegal going on here. I’m renting a room in my friend’s house. I’m barely here, and I really don’t care if the kitchen appliances don’t match or if the floor is laminate instead of hardwood.”
“Karen, please…”
“Or if my lawyer friend has a gaming hobby in his spare time.”
“Lawyer?” Leo couldn’t have heard correctly.
“Yes, a very successful lawyer, as a matter of fact.”
“And when your internship ends…”
“I will deal with that when it comes.”
“Karen—”
She stepped out of his grasp and gave a long sigh. “What did you come here to tell me, Leo?”
He’d almost forgotten. “I’ve come to invite you out tomorrow night.”
“Invite me out? Is there a party I don’t know about?”
“No. Supper—you and me. For Valentine’s Day.”
Her cheeks lit up and her eyes flashed. “No one else available? Natasha turn you down?”
“I didn’t ask Nat. I’m asking you.”
Karen marched past him and out the door. He followed her back downstairs, where she stood with the front door open. The brisk evening wind sent a chill right through him.
“You need to leave.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“What did you think? Poor little Karen has no date, so I may as well take her so she doesn’t cry herself to sleep?”
“No, of course not…”
Her eyes flashed with unleashed anger. “Just so you know, I already have a date. Someone who didn’t wait until the night before to ask me out of pity. Good-bye, Leo.”
Leo slipped his shoes on and walked back into the freezing winter night. The front door slammed shut behind him, and he winced at the sound as it vibrated in the cold air. Robert stood by the passenger door waiting to let him in with a “what have you done now?” look on his face. He really had no idea.
Chapter Six
“Monsieur St. Clare, welcome to Les Sens Bistro. Such a pleasure to have you here tonight.”
“Thank you for fitting us in, Maurice.”
The manager smiled and bowed his head. “Of course, monsieur.”
Les Sens Bistro occupied a tiny space in an industrial building alongside a café, a barbershop, and a women’s boutique in downtown Manhattan. The dining room seated twenty-eight people and had a scattering of booths for groups and single tables for couples. Tonight the bistro’s ambience oozed romance from the lit candles, the long stem red roses in tall glass vases to the music. Valentine’s Day at this famous restaurant had been booked solid for six months, but when Leo had put a call in the other day a table had magically opened up for tonight’s theme—a blindfold experience that was all the rage.
“I do, unfortunately, have one small issue…”
Leo was already in a pissy mood. He had no tolerance for more issues. “What is it?”
“As this is one of our busiest nights we’ve tried to accommodate all of our guests. It is a bit cramped so privacy is at a minimum.”
“Aww, Leo, darling,” Mindy whined as her grip on his arm tightened. “That’s not very romantic.”
Leo gazed down at Mindy and wondered for the umpteenth time why he’d asked her out. Her face was heavily done up, her hair down and loose. She’d squeezed herself into a skintight nude-colored dress with such low cleavage there was nothing left to the imagination. She was every inch the bombshell, and every man on the street outside the restaurant couldn’t help but stare as they walked past.
She’d been so excited when he’d called her the night before that he hadn’t had the heart to tell her this was a one-time thing. No romance. No desire. No sex. He just didn’t want to be alone.
“The experience will be quite enjoyable once blindfolded, Monsieur St. Clare. A whole new awareness.”
Leo turned his attention back to the maitre d’. “Of course. And we want the whole experience, don’t we, my dear?”
“Wonderful.” Maurice clapped his hands then passed a menu to each of them. “Please peruse the menu at your leisure and then I’ll escort you into the dining room.”
After donning their blindfolds, they were led to their table. Conversation buzzed around them as the room began to fill up, and the sweet smell of vanilla and cinnamon filled the air as their remaining senses were heightened.
Their waiter seated them, placed napkins on their laps, and directed them on where their wine glasses and utensils were located. After a few sips of the zinfandel that had been poured in his glass to accompany the appetizers, he found conversation flowed freely—between the other two couples. Mindy sat stiffly beside him, her disappointment oozing off her as strong as whatever flowery perfume she wore. Perhaps it would’ve been better if he’d stayed home and nursed a nice glass of scotch instead.
Leo squeezed her elbow and whispered in her ear, “Cheer up, Mindy. You’re acting like someone’s died.�
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“I am not happy,” she whined.
“Keep your voice down.”
“I am.” Her voice dripped with anger.
Leo sighed. This wasn’t working. And in no way had he pictured the evening going like this. He’d figured on an excellent meal, some light conversation, and then a chaste kiss on her cheek before dropping her off at her friend’s apartment. Perhaps he should suggest they leave. Maurice would understand.
“What do you—?”
“I’m going to the washroom,” she interrupted and stood. The chair legs screeched along the floor like fingers on a chalkboard.
“I will escort you, mademoiselle,” a male waiter said as he approached their table.
“Thank you.”
Leo reached for his wine glass and downed the contents.
“Someone’s not getting any tonight,” one of the men at the table muttered, and the rest of the party laughed.
“Don’t be rude, Paul. You probably won’t either.” A different male voice this time.
A distinct female laugh filled the air, followed by the clinking of glasses. Leo’s senses went into hyper drive and his pulse started to race. He knew that laugh. But he had to be sure.
He lifted his wine glass, signaling for more.
A waiter appeared beside him. “More zinfandel, monsieur?”
He nodded.
“Do you want more zin, Karen?”
Leo’s heart almost jumped out of his throat. It was her! What were the odds? There was no way he was leaving now.
“Yes, please.” Karen’s voice was soft but direct, a soothing balm to his bad mood. The waiter made his way around the table refilling wine glasses. “Will you be serving any wines from the St. Clare estate tonight?”
“Of course, mademoiselle. It is our most popular wine selection.”
“Excellent.”
Did she know he was here sitting only a few feet away? Impossible; he hadn’t said a word above a whisper. Maybe she’d seen him on the way inside. No, he’d arrived early and received the VIP treatment to keep the paparazzi at bay.
“Monsieur?”
Leo tilted his face up as Maurice placed his hand on his shoulder and whispered, “Your date has left. Said she was not feeling well.”
Leo removed his mask and motioned for some privacy. Before he followed Maurice back to the kitchen, he drank in the view of Karen laughing with her friends. Her cheeks were flushed from the wine and her neck was exposed perfectly for a row of intimate kisses. He couldn’t see all of her dress, but the cleavage show her date would’ve gotten if he hadn’t had his mask on burned a trail of unease to his stomach.
As they turned a corner near the kitchen, Maurice broke into speech, wringing his hands. “If you’d prefer, I can arrange a table just for you, Monsieur St. Clare. I am so sorry about this. I will have my staff at your beck and call.”
“I would like to finish my meal, if you don’t mind setting me up somewhere more private. I’ll just hang out for a bit and enjoy the atmosphere.”
Maurice clapped his hands. “Of course.” He turned and disappeared into the kitchen. “Michel! I need a table set up ASAP.”
Leo’s cozy new spot was more than ideal. He had the perfect spot to people-watch, having ditched the blindfold with Maurice’s okay, but most importantly, to keep an eye on Karen. He’d wait patiently for her to pass by on the way to the washroom. He only needed a moment alone with her to satisfy the craving that refused to go away.
»»•««
Karen’s cheeks burned pleasantly from both the wine and the laughter. Surprisingly, this double date had all the signs of being the best time she’d had since moving to New York. All the senses she took for granted on a regular basis were on full alert with the blindfold on. The food tasted exquisite, the spices perfect. Even in the wine she could taste all the different elements. Vanilla and cinnamon wafted up her nose, calming her.
But this all took second place to the company she shared. Her date, Paul, was a delight. Funny, smart, and witty, not to mention handsome; he really was the whole package.
Dessert arrived along with a bottle of sweet rosé.
“May I sit beside you?” Paul whispered in her ear.
When had he gotten up? “Of course.” Her heart raced as Paul asked their waiter to position his chair beside hers. He squeezed in as close as he could, their thighs touching. He picked up her hand and placed it in his, sweeping his thumb back and forth in a hypnotic motion on the top of her hand. “You are quite suave.”
Paul’s laugh was deep and seductive. “It’s easy with such a beautiful woman.”
“Are you sure you’re a lawyer?”
This time his laugh was genuine. “We’re not all that bad.”
Karen shrugged then remembered Paul couldn’t see her. “That’s to be determined.”
Paul took her other hand and held both in his on the table.
“That sounds like a second date to me. Or maybe a nightcap?”
A nightcap? Karen knew Mike would be staying with his significant other tonight and the house would be empty…but to have Paul come over. Alone. Her thoughts flashed to the night before, when Leo had followed her into her bedroom. Yes, she’d freaked out at first, but he’d dominated the space like he belonged. And that had scared her.
She tried picturing Paul there and couldn’t. That scared her more.
Karen pushed her chair back and stood. She needed to get away, but Paul still had both her hands in his.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Oh, nothing…nothing. I need to use the washroom.”
“Of course.” He released her hands, and their waiter escorted her away from the table.
“The door is right here, mademoiselle. Please leave the blindfold on until you step inside.”
“Thank you.” The pressure on her elbow disappeared, and she reached out to push the door but was greeted with a solid wall.
“What the—?!” Karen felt along the wall for a door and found nothing. Is this some kind of joke?
Warm hands grabbed her shoulders and turned her around.
“Thank you for coming. I can’t seem to find the door. Really, you guys should have different rules about the washroom.”
The hands left her shoulders and slid up her neck then cupped her cheeks.
“Umm…” This was totally inappropriate. She needed to scream…or something.
But when firm, chiseled lips touched hers so gently and then parted hers to access her tongue, she almost swooned. She’d never been kissed with such heat, and then, as the kiss became more possessive and demanding…never with such passion. Her body arched forward, needing to touch, to feel the heat burn her skin. Fingers were in her hair now, massaging. Her fingers gripped jacket lapels and itched to slide around and find skin.
As the kiss slowed, her muddled brain cleared and panic set in. What on earth had gotten into her? This was wrong. She released her grip on the jacket and pushed away, her fingers lingering a bit over the rock-hard pecs beneath.
Stomping down the lust that consumed her, she ripped the blindfold off her eyes. No one was there…
Sounds from the kitchen intensified as she took in her surroundings. The bathroom door was a few feet away from where she stood. No one was in either direction in the hallway or around the corner. There was no way she’d imagined all that, though. Someone was playing games with her.
“Mademoiselle? Are you ready to be escorted back to your table?” The maitre d’ turned the corner from the kitchen with his arm proffered.
“I…um…not yet. I got a bit lost and couldn’t find the washroom. That’s why I took my blindfold off.”
“Of course. Did your waiter not inform you that, once in this hallway, you are to remove it?”
“No.”
“Oh, dear. My apologies, mademoiselle. I will wait for you right here and escort you personally back to your table.”
“I appreciate that, thank you.”
Karen das
hed into the washroom, thankful it was empty.
Am I going crazy? she thought as she washed her hands and splashed some cold water on her heated cheeks. The kiss and the rock-hard pecs had been real. They had to be. She’d never been kissed like that before, even by Leo. But she’d felt safe, like she’d belonged in that embrace. And that made no sense. It couldn’t have been Leo. He had no idea she’d be there tonight, and New York was no tiny town.
Had it been Paul? She had to find out.
Back at her table, when Karen had her blindfold back on, Mike offered her a glass of the dessert wine, which she downed immediately.
“You okay?”
“Where’s Paul?” she whispered.
“Washroom.”
Karen’s stomach contracted and she gasped. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah. He followed you there. You didn’t see him?”
Karen lowered her chin. “It was him.” And that revelation brought no excitement, only worry.
“You did see him?”
Karen heard his confusion. “I didn’t see him. I felt him. He kissed me while I was still blindfolded…and it was wonderful.”
“And this is apparently a big problem,” Mike said with a chuckle.
She didn’t want it to be a problem. She needed to move on from her old feelings for Leo, but the disappointment sat so heavy around her heart that she wanted to cry.
“I’m done for the night, Mike. I’m going to catch a cab home.” She stood and signaled for a waiter.
“What should I tell Paul?”
“To call me tomorrow.”
Yes, perhaps after a good night’s sleep she’d feel better able to deal with these conflicting emotions. Not caring about restaurant protocol any longer, she removed her blindfold, grabbed her purse and coat, and left.
»»•««
The breathtaking view from Natasha’s office always surprised Karen. That morning the sky had traces of pink and orange with barely a cloud in sight, which called for a very cold and brisk day.
A steaming cup of coffee sat on Natasha’s desk, and Karen held her own in front of her, enjoying the warmth that radiated into her hands. The previous night’s kiss at Les Sens replayed in her mind yet again. She’d gotten no sleep and was living off her third cup of coffee already that morning. The jitters were kicking in, and she welcomed the racing thoughts about what her day would bring. Anything to stop thinking about that bone-melting kiss…and that it hadn’t been Leo who’d given it to her.