Pleasure for Two

by Pamela Yaye

  Second thoughts crept into her mind. “I don’t know,” she began. “I have reports to…”

  Marcel flipped off the lights and ushered Dominique out of her office before she could finish the rest of her sentence.

  The four-door Lincoln Town Car pulled up to the arched entranceway of an eighty-suite Marco Island resort. The tall, tanned valet opened the door with a flourish. Wearing a gracious smile, he bowed chivalrously at the waist. “Welcome to the Marco Island Ocean Resort.”

  Dominique felt like pinching herself. This had to be a dream, had to be a figment of her imagination because the last thing she remembered was taking her seat on the charter plane bound for Florida and falling asleep. Her memory was hazy, but when Marcel leaned over and nuzzled his chin against her cheek, it all came back to her.

  After landing at Naples Airport, Marcel had ushered her into the car, handed her a flute of cider and made a romantic, heartfelt toast that left her teary-eyed. He’d kissed her painstakingly slow, and she melted into his arms, feeling happier and more fulfilled than she could ever remember. Her heart was open, full of love and admiration for him, and Dominique couldn’t think of anyone she’d rather spend the holidays with.

  With his arms securely locked around her, they talked about the baby and all of the plans he’d made for their vacation. He wouldn’t tell her where they were staying, but when she saw the Welcome to Marco Island flags flapping in the wind along the highway, Dominique knew they were headed to one of the exclusive beachside resorts.

  “Thanks, man, but I got it.”

  The valet stepped aside, and Marcel helped Dominique to her feet. “What do you think?” he asked, leading her through the lavishly decorated lobby. “Do you think you’ll be happy here for the next five days?”

  “Most definitely.” Her tone was thick with breathless wonder. The resort had a Mediterranean-style decor, and the off-white color scheme evoked feelings of tranquility. “I’ve been to a lot of nice hotels, but I’ve never seen anything like this,” she confessed, admiring the oil paintings that graced the walls. “You better be careful, Marcel. I may never want to leave!”

  “Works for me,” he said, with a wink. “Check-in might take a while, so why don’t you stay here while I go get the keys to our villa?”

  “Our villa?” Wide-eyed, she sank unto one of the armchairs positioned beside the fireplace. “How can you afford all this? I know how much research assistants make, and it’s not enough to cover a five-day stay at a popular celebrity resort.”

  Marcel only smiled. His silence fueled her suspicions and curiosity.

  “None of this makes any sense. The plane tickets, the Town Car, the villa.”

  “Don’t worry your pretty little head over how much money I have in my wallet.”

  “You don’t have Bill Gates money, so either you hit it big at one of the casinos or you’re moonlighting as a bank robber. Which one is it?”

  A chuckle burst out of his mouth. “You and the baby sit tight, and I’ll be right back with our keys.” He kissed her forehead, then strode over to the front desk, as confident and as self-assured as she’d ever seen him.

  Dominique took a deep breath, but her thoughts continued to spiral out of control. Her heart was beating so loudly that she was sure everyone in the lobby could hear it. They’d arrived in Marco Island almost an hour ago, but Dominique still couldn’t believe she was there, with Marcel, in an upscale resort she’d once seen featured on Entertainment Tonight.

  What am I doing? What am I getting myself into? she wondered, trepidation crawling up her spine. Dominique shook off her doubts. She had nothing to fear. Marcel was a perfect gentleman, and nothing was going to happen on this trip that she wasn’t comfortable with. Staring down at her stomach, she choked back a laugh. It’s a bit late for decorum, isn’t it?

  The scent of cinnamon made her mouth wet. To Marcel’s joy, she’d gained five pounds last month and seemed to be eating everything in sight. As she thought about how her life had changed, she smiled. Her relationship with her mom was still on shaky ground, but the rest of her family was being supportive, and that meant the world to her.

  “Ready to check out our home for the next week?” His smile looked forced and didn’t reach his eyes. “The concierge is bringing our bags over as we speak.”

  “What’s wrong? You look upset.”

  “They made a mistake with the reservation and gave our villa to a family of six.”

  Dominique stood. “Do we have to find another hotel?”

  “No, they booked us into the honeymoon suite.”

  “Is it more expensive?”

  He shook his head. “It’s actually a little cheaper, and the woman at the front desk said it’s the most popular villa in the whole resort.”

  Dominique frowned, but when she stepped into the suite ten minutes later, she knew why it was the most requested room in the resort. Everything in the suite was scented, heart shaped and made for two—the bed, the tub, the couch.

  “Wow, it’s a lot of red and white,” he said, picking up a chocolate-covered mint. “The person who designed this suite must have been a hopeless romantic.”

  “I think it’s cute, but I can tell you hate it.”

  “I don’t care if I sleep outside as long as I’m with you.”

  “You’re every bit as sweet as this room.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, with a chuckle.

  “Before I get all caught up in the excitement of this week, I just want to say thank you. I’m completely blown away by all this. I feel like a queen.”

  “You should, because you are.” He kissed her lips. “I’m starving. What about you?”

  Dominique smiled wide. “Ah, you know me so well.”

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  She nodded. “Uh-huh,” she managed, loving the feel of his hands on her back.

  Marcel watched Dominique unzip her jacket and slip off her low-heeled pumps. She reached for the phone, and he frowned. “What are you doing?”

  “Ordering room service,” she said. “I thought you were hungry.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, but not for food…”

  Ten more minutes, Dominique thought, fanning her face with her hands. Ten more minutes and we’ll be back to shore. The humid afternoon breeze carried the scent of salt water, and the sound of the ocean waves roared in her ears. The boat glided smoothly on the turquoise-blue water, but Dominique felt sick to her stomach. Memories of her childhood—boarding the ferry with her dad and spending the afternoon on Vancouver Island—rose in her thoughts. Had it really been two years since he died? Would the pain she felt during the holidays ever subside?

  Marcel must have sensed her unease, because he moved closer to her on the bench. The luxurious vacation setting had brought out another side of him. He’d been doting on her all week—rubbing her feet, fixing her bath, preparing healthy snacks—and she’d never felt more loved. Her boyfriend lived to please her, lived to make her smile.

  Taking her hand, he used his fingertips to gently caress her wrist. A swell of emotions intensified inside her when he cradled her in his arms. Marcel was always touching her, always close. She’d never dated someone so affectionate, someone so romantic, and she loved the attention he lavished on her.

  Dominique almost moaned when Marcel kissed her. He swept her hair off her shoulders, burying his fingers inside her long, tangled locks. Her body quivered under his touch, and when he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, she was reminded of all the naughty things they’d done last night in bed. The only word to describe their lovemaking was erotic. She’d stretched out, closed her eyes and waited for the pleasure to begin. Marcel was a master of foreplay and did things with his tongue that should be illegal. He’d used his middle finger to stroke her to the brink, and five minutes in, Dominique was delirious with need. Taking the reins, she’d climbed on top of him, eased his erection inside her and rode out the wave heating her core.

&n
bsp; “I could definitely get used to this.”

  The sound of Marcel’s voice broke Dominique from her thoughts.

  “Aren’t you glad we got out today? I never imagined there would be people lined up to get inside Prodigal Lewis’s home, but we did get some great pictures. And the view on Sanguaro Mountain was breathtaking.”

  For the first three days of their holiday, they’d idled away the afternoons in the hammock, only getting up to swim and eat, but that morning Marcel had insisted on showing her around the island. At the start of the boat tour, Dominique had been filled with excitement and wonder, but after battling the crowd, the heat and pesky flies, she was exhausted. All she wanted to do now was go back to the resort and put her feet up.

  “In 1921, this land was discovered by…” Passionate about eighteenth-century history, the female tour guide chattered exuberantly about indigenous tribes and ruthless Spanish explorers.

  Dominique longed for a glass of ice-cold water. Her straw hat failed to shield her from the sun’s brutal rays, and as the resort came into view, she was surprised to see all of the vacationers sprawled out on the beach. People of all ages were playing sports and building sand castles.

  “How’s my baby doing?”

  “Oh, just dandy,” Dominique quipped. “You know, using my ribs as a punching bag!”

  To prove it, she took his hand and placed it on top of her stomach. He smiled, and so did she. Marcel was one hundred percent masculine, but he had a tender, compassionate side and seemed more in love with the baby every day.

  “Want to play another round of golf before dinner?”

  Dominique shook her head. She didn’t have the energy to play golf or anything else. Her feet hurt, and she was tired. “I think we should skip the party all together. Let’s order room service, get under the covers and watch a movie.”

  “You’d rather stay home than attend the Christmas Eve bash?” His eyes twinkled with humor. “But you love going out and mingling with all the other beautiful people.”

  “I just don’t feel like being part of the crowd tonight.” They’d spent the past five hours strolling along winding trails, sampling fresh food at the farmers’ market and had even tried their hand at kayaking. If not for the noise of the wailing infant behind her, she probably would have dozed off when they reboarded the charter boat. “Marcel, it’s our last night here, and I’d really like it if we could spend it alone, together, just you, me and the baby.”

  “We’ll stay at the party long enough to have dinner, and then we’ll leave, okay?”

  Dominique made a face.

  “Please?” He kissed the slope of her neck. “I want to show you off.”

  “I’m pregnant, Marcel. I’ll hardly be a showstopper. Not with all these young, tanned blondes strutting around in their Gucci dresses.”

  “You’re stunning, baby. Perfect from head to toe.”

  “How do you always manage to say and do the right thing?”

  A grin came. “It’s easy when I’m with you.”

  Chapter 19

  The island sky was filled with hundreds of stars, and the glass V-shaped roof at the resort lounge offered a stunning view. Palm trees strung with Christmas lights created a warm, holiday mood, and each two-seat table glowed with golden candlesticks. Foreign aromas drifted on the evening breeze, stirring Dominique’s appetite. As per the invitation, guests were dressed in various shades of red, and upon entering the party, each woman had received a long-stemmed white rose.

  “This place is incredible,” Dominique gushed, admiring the elaborate decorations. In addition to the scrumptious cuisine and crystal chandeliers, the open courtyard overlooking the dining room created a lover’s paradise. “I never imagined Marco Island would be this beautiful.”

  “Most people don’t. That’s why it’s Florida’s best kept secret.”

  “Would it look bad if I ordered another entrée?” Dominique added as she cleaned the last of the lamb sauce off her fork. “I think the baby’s still hungry.”

  “The baby, huh?”

  “What can I say?” She wore an innocent face. “I can’t ignore my body.”

  Marcel stopped a waiter, ordered another appetizer and chuckled when Dominique asked for a chocolate milkshake. “Take it easy, babe. We still have another course to go.”

  “If I eat dessert, you’ll need to wheel me out of here in a trolley!”

  They laughed.

  “I can’t believe how much I’ve eaten this week. Tomorrow I’m spending the morning at the gym,” she vowed, staring down at her waistline. “It’ll probably take me two days just to burn off this meal.”

  “Or you could just dance.” Marcel stood. “May I have this dance, sexy lady?”

  His good humor was infectious, and Dominique couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t know, Mr. Benoit. Are you a good dancer?”

  “There’s only one way to find out.” Marcel came around the table and took her hand. Dominique had his head spinning like a merry-go-round, and if he didn’t get her into his arms soon, he was going to implode. She’d been teasing him all night: flirting with him, leaning across the table to serve him an eyeful of cleavage and “accidently” brushing her legs against his. “I hope those shoes are comfortable, because I plan to dance with you for the rest of the evening.”

  “Is that right?” The twinkle in her eye was as dazzling as the smile on her lips. “You’re such a hard man to read. Just when I think I have you figured out, you surprise me.”

  Marcel winked. “I like to keep you guessing.”

  After an exhaustive search for a space on the dance floor, they settled on a spot to the right of the stage. As he admired the elegant cut of her cranberry-red dress, he realized he’d never seen Dominique look more beautiful. He didn’t know how long they danced, but when she drew her fingers along his jaw, time stopped. Her touch, though warm, fuelled a sexual response. His pulse thundered in his ears, and for a moment, Marcel had second thoughts about what he was about to do. What if his plan backfired? What if something went wrong?

  Then Dominique caressed his cheek and lifted her mouth for a kiss. Love spilled from Marcel’s heart when their lips touched. In that instance, he realized he had nothing to fear. Dominique King was the one—the right one. She was the woman he’d been searching for his whole life. He was ready to go the distance, ready to prove to her that he could be trusted with her heart.

  With her arms securely locked around him, she swayed her body in tune with the music, turning him out with every switch of her hips. Dominique ran the tip of her tongue along his lips, and Marcel’s eyes glazed over with lust. It took a minute for his mind to clear. He loosened his hold on her, then slipped a hand into his suit jacket. His skin was slick with perspiration, but his determination outweighed his fear. He was going to do this. Right here. Right now.

  “Our next song is a Sam Cooke classic, and we’re performing it tonight for one very special lady,” the silver-haired musician said. “Marcel wants to dedicate ‘You Were Made for Me’ to his new fiancée. This one’s for you, Dominique, and it’s coming straight from the heart.”

  Dominique coughed. Convinced she’d heard wrong, she opened her eyes. Two things instantly struck her: the dance floor was empty and Marcel was holding a microphone in his hands. Her heart beat in double time as she stared openmouthed at her boyfriend.

  “The woman standing before me is truly remarkable,” Marcel praised, his voice echoing through the loudspeakers. “Dominique is unlike anyone I have ever met. From the moment I saw her, I knew she was special. I didn’t know then that she was my soul mate, but it didn’t take long for me to realize that this was the woman I was destined to share the rest of my life with.”

  Cameras clicked and lights flashed. Dominique filtered out the noise coming from behind her and tried to focus on what Marcel was saying. His eyes were like stars. Bright, shiny, filled with excitement. Blown away by his outpouring of affection, she could hardly speak. Marcel didn’t want to do an
ything but make her happy, and she loved him all the more for it.

  “I didn’t bring you all the way to Marco Island just to frolic in the sun. I brought you here to ask for your hand in marriage. Baby, I know we’ve only known each other for a few months, but I’m ready to go the distance. I love you, and I want to marry you. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

  Marcel dropped to his knee, and Dominique gasped. Tears gathered in her eyes. The urge to cry was overwhelming, crushing, but they were in a public place, and she wasn’t about to weep in front of all these people.

  “You are the most important person in my life,” he said, his voice strong and clear. “My love for you will never change, and no one in this world will ever be able to take your place in my heart.”

  Dominique was lost—lost in his words, his smile, the intensity of his gaze. And she knew, deep in her soul, that she wanted to be his wife. This was her fate, her destiny, to be loved by this man for the rest of her life. Her breath caught when Marcel opened the small, white box. The platinum three-stone ring was flanked by diamonds on each side and dazzled under the sultry lights. Breathe, girl, she chided herself. Breathe!

  “I want you to be my wife, my lover, my everything.” Still holding her gaze, he took her left hand and slid the custom-made ring onto her finger. “You asked me a few weeks ago what I wanted for Christmas, and all I want is you. Ma belle reine, will you marry me?” The word yes was sitting on the tip of Dominique’s tongue, but she was too choked up to speak. She nodded, and when Marcel took her in his arms, the tears fell. Dominique didn’t know why she was crying, but she couldn’t stop. He kissed her a hundred times, each one sweeter than the last. Dominique wished she could stay in this spot forever—with Marcel holding her, whispering words of love into her ear.

  Chapter 20

  The scent of strong black coffee awakened Dominique the next morning. It took a moment for her to remember where she was, and when memories of last night flooded her mind, she grinned from ear to ear. Throwing off the covers, she admired her new engagement ring, turning her hand from left to right. Sunshine splashed into the bedroom through the open window, and the diamond solitaire twinkled in the pinkish-orange light.