I picked up my fork and speared a piece of pineapple, dunked it into the chocolate sauce the waiter had so decadently provided, and then spooned a fair amount of whipped cream on top of that. Right now I needed a sugar rush. I needed something to distract me, something to bump up my brain, to make me giddy and make me bounce off the wall. Because, I was clearly getting in too deep with this man, he was either hypnotizing me or seducing me, I wasn’t sure of which. Had I actually just become engaged? Had I decided to marry this man because I loved his voice and couldn’t wait for the next foot massage? Although I hadn’t agreed to anything, by not disagreeing I was tacitly saying, “I do.” I took a sip of the dark liquor after I swished it around and sniffed it. It smelled strong, but alluring. It tasted divine.
“Of course, I know you’re going to want to get to know me better before you commit. And there are a few things you are going to need to know about me before I walk you down the aisle. But I’m confident, once you get to know me, you’re going to like me.” He had prepared a plump chocolate-covered strawberry for me. And as nonchalant as could be, he leaned over and fed it to me with his fingers. When I had finished the delectable treat, he used the tip of his finger to wipe my lips, then inserted it into my mouth so I could lick the remaining chocolate from it. My nipples hardened and moisture pooled to remind me that I was still a very sensual woman. I picked up my brandy snifter and sampled the Remy Martin again. My, this was good stuff.
He chuckled, “Don’t look now but the twins are damn near poking through those dots, a very impressive show. I can’t figure it, how is it that you’re able to go braless like that? Most women your age can’t carry that off. I wonder . . . you wouldn’t by chance be wearing an underwire bra without cups?”
I was feeling wicked and reckless, “Guilty.” I waggled my eyebrows. And picked up my brandy.
He groaned. “You may not know it yet, but you are so perfect for me.” He took his napkin from his lap and placed it beside his plate. “Let me see you home.”
“I detect an ulterior motive. I have a hunch you want to see me home so you can see other things.”
“I do indeed.”
“I’m not ready for that yet.” Although my body was screaming that it was. The brandy was still in my hand, so before placing the glass back on the table, I took another healthy swig. I loved the way it warmed me, all the way to my tummy.
“I know you’re not, sweetheart. I just want to make sure you get home.” He signed the charge card receipt when the waiter brought it and helped me to my feet. I found I needed the help, my legs felt wobbly. He placed my pashmina around my shoulders and handed me my purse, which I clearly would have forgotten had he not. He leaned in and kissed me on the temple. “I’ll drive the limo and my driver can follow us in your truck if that’s all right. You’re a tiny bit tipsy.”
I nodded. I sensed he was a man who thought things through and took care of all the details while others were just beginning to get the idea, and I was learning that there were some things that were not worth arguing about. Save the big guns for when there was, a tiny voiced pinged in my head.
Chapter Thirteen
First kiss On the way home I rode up front on the smooth, warm leather seat. It had been preheated for me, a luxury I had never known. Cat’s car had these types of seats, and I think Tessa’s new one did too, but I had never bothered to switch the seat on when I was riding shotgun, it just hadn’t seemed all that necessary. Now I languished on the warm, buttery leather—the seat belt the only thing keeping me and my silky polka dot dress from sliding off and onto the floor with each sweeping turn.
“There’s something you should know about me. Actually there’s several somethings, but tonight I will allow you to discover only one of them. I am an asshole. Instead of you taking days, maybe weeks to discover this, I am going to reveal myself to you, openly and with brutal honesty. I’m going to tell you what it takes women months to find out about me. I am going to save you the heartache of learning all this the hard way. I’m going to give you a primer on Philip Camden.
“I am the jerk that women fall for because they like the bad boy in me. They like the part of me that they can’t tame, because it challenges them. And as hard as it is to believe, they actually like the part of me that’s unfaithful, because they believe it’s the reason I was available for them and that they are the one who will change all that, that they will be the one to make me monogamous.
“All my life, I could get any woman I wanted . . . with no exception. I could have her, use her, humiliate her, and discard her. And still, when I wanted her back, if I wanted her back, she would come running.
“A lot of men can do this. We’re a huge group, us assholes, and it’s because we really don’t care what anybody else wants or what anybody else thinks that makes us so alluring. We’re selfish and we take what we want. It’s all about us, we’re conceited, arrogant, and spoiled, and women love that. I learned early in life that women love a man who is powerful, they need a man who is powerful, even while they are trying to strip us of this power, they feed on being under it. The desire to be under the control of a powerful man is universal, it crosses all cultures. Even independent women all but beg to be dominated by powerful men. And as women are the weaker sex by the very virtue of needing to be submissive, the dominant man takes full advantage of this.
“You should know that I can be demanding, and that once, I actually hurt a woman, although at the time, I didn’t realize that I was hurting her. I ended up killing her though, not by my own hand mind you, but by my arrogance. And that woman was my wife. She had stupidly fallen in love with me, and then because of my boorish behavior, she gave up on me and walked away, chalking me off as the asshole I was. I was the man who took away her honor, dashed her dreams, and humiliated her beyond bearing. I was the man who had vowed to love her until death. Ironically, I realized how much I actually did love her when I was told she was gone, that she had died on the operating table. I have lived with the knowledge that I was the world’s worst asshole for almost thirty years now. I woke up a few months ago and I decided I had done enough penance for what I did to her and that it’s time to prove that I can live the right way, that I can give as good as I get, and do things right this time.”
“Wow. How did she die? What did you do?” “I’d rather wait until you have developed at least a fondness for me before I burst your bubble completely.”
“I think I might already be more than fond of you.”
“See, the bad guy comes out on to top again. I tell you I’m despicable, that I’ve done heinous things, and you’re putty in my hands. Good! Because I feel like I might be slipping back into asshole mode again and I’d like to show you first hand what Philip Camden has in mind,” he smiled over at me and whispered, “you know, it wouldn’t bother me a bit if you decided to appease my curiosity and bare your breasts for me.”
“I said more than fond, not crazy and foolish.” Although I thought for a moment that between the wine and the Remy Martin, my inhibitions were about non-existent at the moment.
“The windows have an extra heavy tint, no one will be able to see in, that I can assure you.”
“Philip, I am not going to do that.”
“You had no qualms in that bar. Any man desiring to see you could have seen your tits for the price of a beer.”
Oh that galled me. “And since you paid the magnanimous price of world class champagne and wine, you feel you’re entitled to see them too? I swear, I wish I’d never told Tessa and Cat about that, and I sure as hell wish they’d never told you!”
“If the idea bothers you that much, forget it.” He looked like a contrite little boy, who’d been denied time on the field, his lip snarled in a pout.
I had to laugh. “The idea doesn’t actually bother me so much, it’s the idea that you expect me to. So . . . even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t. And even if I would, I couldn’t. This dress buttons down the back, I had a hard enough time getting into it by
myself, and I’ll definitely have to do some serious contortions to get out of it.”
“I stand ready to offer my assistance,” he said with a grin.
There was silence for a few minutes as we cruised along the desolate streets between Ocean Isle and Sunset.
“Okay . . . if I can guess the color of your panties, would you flash them?”
I laughed and said, “You are incorrigible! But I think, that’s a better bet.” I knew he would probably guess black or white as those were the colors of my dress. No way would he guess red.
He looked over at me and I could see heat lighting up his eyes. “Show me your red underwear,” he whispered.
I actually jumped from the shock. He gave a lewd smile of gratification.
“How could you possibly know that?”
He smiled again. “A deal’s a deal. Show me.”
I shook my head in wonder and twitched the skirt of my dress, flashing him.
“Can’t we do a little better than that, after all I am driving you know. Give me ten seconds at least.”
“Five.”
“Fine, I’ll take what I can get.”
“But you have to tell me how you knew.”
“Show me first.”
I hesitated then turned to face him and brought the hem up above the top of my red silk panties. Five seconds is an amazingly long time when you’re counting it off, and when the man in question stops his car in the middle of the road to stare with desire pinging off of him. I felt wanton, needy, and so wet. Tremors ran through me causing my insides to clench. Currents of wildfire heated my body, scorching me where he stared so intently. One battleship, two battleship, three battleship, four battleship, five battleship.
I smoothed my dress down and he looked back through the windshield and began driving again. I noticed his jaw was firm and that he was taking deep breaths through his nose. I watched it flare in and out and then he faced me with dark, smoldering eyes. “I figured out you had a specialty bra on, an underwire without cups, you can’t buy them just anywhere and unless you special order them, they’re only stocked in red or black. A woman on a first date would assuredly match her panties to her bra. It was a fifty-fifty shot and you don’t know how close I came to saying black. Until I realized that the color I most wanted to see on you right now was red.” He looked like a fallen angel, telling me his secrets.
My body tingled all over. This man was all male, and all knowing about everything female. I could feel him scenting me, taking in the dark pervasive tang that was uniquely mine. I was so far out of my league with him that it wasn’t even funny. “How do you know so much about women’s lingerie?”
“I’ll have to tell you a story about that sometime. For now, let’s just say I have an insider’s knowledge of intimate apparel.”
We were at my house now. We stopped on the street to allow his driver room to pull my truck into the drive. We waited while he hit the button for the remote on the truck visor and the door opened. He pulled my truck in before Philip drove the limo in behind him.
“That truck doesn’t seem to suit you. I figured you as more the Jaguar-BMW-Saab type. ABuick sedan at the very least.” That was so funny; those were the exact same cars I’d figured he’d be driving.
“The truck belonged to Dale. I like to drive it. It still smells like him when I open the door,” and I know he couldn’t have missed the fondness and wistfulness in my voice.
“You really loved him.”
“Yeah, I really and truly did.”
“He was a lucky man. Did he buy you the red underwear?” “No, that’s a fairly new venture for me. My skivvies and
his were basic white, bought in packages of three.” “Did you guys have any hobbies, things you did together?” “Dale and I used to go bowling. Were on a league for
several years. We finally quit when it just became a Peyton Place kind of thing. People weren’t really all that into the bowling anymore, they were interested in hooking up, wife swapping and all. Dale wasn’t interested in other women, and he certainly didn’t want to share me.”
Philip opened his door and stepped out, and as his driver was closer to my door, he opened mine. Philip waited for me to cross in front of his car then joined me and walked with me up the little path to my front door.
“How did you know exactly where my house was?” “You’d be surprised what I know about you.” I shivered and pulled my pashmina tight around my
shoulders even though I wasn’t really cold. “You didn’t know my underwear was red.”
An eyebrow lifted.
“Okay, you kinda did, but it was a guess.”
He took my keys from my hand and opened the door, reached in for the light switch on the wall and then followed me in. Hmm, I thought, how was this going to work? Was he the type that would make his driver sit outside in his car all night should he get “lucky?”
His thoughts must have mirrored mine because he said, “I’m going to show you the utmost respect and beg for just a good night kiss, but I want to see you again—tomorrow night. How about I pick you up at seven and take you out for a casual dinner and maybe a movie afterward?”
“Uh, sure.” My mind was already racing and thinking only of the upcoming kiss.
He stepped closer, his thighs grazing mine as he pulled me close with one hand on my back. His other hand caressed the nape of my neck, his fingers delving into the short tufts of hair. Then his mouth descended and I gave myself up to him. His mouth came down open and firm and his commanding lips made sure mine were of the same mind. Then he all but assaulted my mouth, searing every place his tongue touched with scorching heat. Using subtle force, his tongue breeched my lips, then spiked with desire, it wrapped with mine. He thrust in and out, licking the insides of my cheeks and retreating to take my taste back to his mouth before returning to duel again and again as he angled my face higher so he could plunge deeper. Wave after wave of lust rolled over me, and I felt heat zinging from remote and sacred places hidden inside my core. My blood became thick and I could hear my heart pounding in my chest. Now this was a kiss!
He pulled away and gazed into my face. Then he smiled. “Goodnight my lady in red,” then he walked to the door, opened it and moved to step out. Before allowing the door to close behind him, he murmured, “Wear that bra again tomorrow night. And lock the door behind me.” The door closed and I all I could do was stare at it. From the glass side panel I watched as he walked along the path to the driveway. His driver got out of the car and opened a rear door for him. I saw him graciously nod his thanks, duck into the opening, and then the door was closed. The driver moved to his door and returned to his seat.
As soon as the headlights cleared the drive I turned to go into the garage. Something felt loose on my back and I felt a cold draft behind me. I reached back to check my dress. He had unbuttoned all my buttons while he’d been kissing me. Oh, I was definitely out of my league.
I changed course and went into my bedroom instead. No way was I going to do all the gyrations necessary to get those buttons done up again. I quickly changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, then I left the house. I had to go see what my scatterbrained mother had been up to while I was being wooed.
Chapter Fourteen
Witchy woman On the way over to Cat’s condo I thought about Philip and that long lingering kiss. After the fact, I realized that he had set out to control me and that tonight I’d handed him the power to do exactly that—just as if I’d given him a remote control labeled, “To own Vivienne, just press POWER, then POSSESS.” And why? Why had I given myself over so easily? I knew the answer even if I didn’t like it: because of his dynamic personality, his confidence, and his ability to control so many others. Rock-star handsome, rich, and powerful was a lethal combination in any culture. The fact that he was charismatic and willful made him a leading character in any woman’s fantasy. So to my mind it was inevitable that I would be captured like a gazelle on safari, if he decided he wanted said gazelle. And appar
ently he did.
This was a man who could have anything he wanted, that had been blatantly clear from the beginning. I mean how many men could orchestrate women applying to endure the lengthy matchmaking process he had insisted on? And I knew as soon as I heard his voice that I had caved, hell, even vied to become his prize. Because that was the type of man he was—he was commanding and sure of himself and most importantly, sure of others and how they would react to him. He simply was, no way around that. I knew then that there was probably no way I could wrest control back. With the sincerest of flattery and the gracious charm of a world-class diplomat, he had reeled me in and checkmated me, and I hadn’t even seen it coming.
He was a remarkable man with full, sensuous lips that had a sated worldliness to them. There was no doubt that he was a connoisseur of women. Was I ready for a man of his caliber? After all, I was just Vivienne of Sugar Sands, not some sophisticate. He was looking for a playmate, or if his words and alter ego told the story, a sex slave. Hell, I’d had to ask Tess and Cat one question after another when we’d watched that Sex and the City movie during the summer, so I had to admit, that while I had been married, sex had grown wings and taken flight in the interim years. Now women had their own ideas about what they wanted and an array of toys to provide it if they couldn’t find the right man to pony up. And I had to ask myself, despite being devastatingly attracted to this man, could I deal with a self-proclaimed asshole?
I smiled and nodded, it seemed I might have found the right man to indoctrinate me to this new era of dating— if I was up to it—and if I didn’t mind being toyed with, used, humiliated, and maybe tossed aside in the process. I recognized a new bounce in my step as I ran up the outside stairs to the condo. I felt like a young girl again. Philip had already done a number on me, and I didn’t doubt for a minute, that he knew it. But two could play—he might have the remote, but I knew how to pull the cord from the wall if I got in over my head. And I had friends I could count on—for anything. Hell, Tessa, Cat, and I had kidnapped an amnesia patient who was a drugged out, diarrhea-prone almost-murder victim from a nursing home, right under the nose of a security guard. I smiled at the memory of Amy, now recovered and dating a professor from Duke University.
The Widows of Sea Trail-Vivienne of Sugar Sands Page 10