Mad About You: A Box Set

by Pamela Ann

  I knew it was superficial and too cliché, but hell, my body was acting of its own accord. I mean, in all seriousness, I was a twenty-one-year-old living in a new country, living in a new house. Everything was foreign and different, and the newly minted me wanted to come out and play.

  Yes, playing would be nice.

  I wasn’t trying to shamelessly justify my flirtation by blaming my heartbreak and trying to move on from it, but after the hurt, I deserved to live like normal girls my age would—living life to the fullest. Consequently, that was what I wanted to do—live life with no regrets. Right this instant would be a good start …

  “Well, how about we put those words to action?” I challenged him with a wicked glint in my eyes, raising my brow.

  “Christ, I do love bossy women with itty, bitty skirts.”

  “Man, you’re really going to take this up another notch.” I gave a small laugh before sending him a steady look. “Now that we’ve both established that you’re a serial flirt, are you ready to be a good host and take me to this party I’ve been hearing all afternoon or what?”

  “Someday, I might be tempted to take you to the wild side. For now, though, I’ll play along with you,” Archer stated as if he already knew it was going to happen before he led me towards the main door, ready to begin our nighttime festivities.

  It was arrogant of him to assume, but what bothered me more was the fact that I actually was curious about it … and maybe a little excited, too. Maybe it was his accent that was making me think crazy thoughts. Fuck, don’t get me started with the accent. It was downright lethal.

  Simple flirting, I could do. Sex-talk flirting, on the other hand … Well, I was rusty with that one. To be successful at it, one had to be confident within her own skin, have a boatload of attitude, and have mastered the technique of eye fucking. The first I easily could do. The second, I probably needed some sort of practice. As for the third … Hmm, I shouldn’t dare try in fear of being mistaken as a nymphomaniac with some serious eye problem. Sometimes, it was better to be safe than sorry. I believed in trying new things, but that? Not so much.

  “Of course you’d be driving a sex machine,” I exclaimed the moment I saw his red car. It was one of those expensive, sporty ones that screamed machismo, control, and sexiness wrapped into one.

  Archer threw me an amused look as he smiled from ear to ear. “Oh, yeah? Is that what they call it in America?”

  “Amongst other things …” Yep, the car matched its owner: über sexy and full of machismo. Kids my age didn’t drive these types of cars; as a result, I was beyond excited to see how powerful it was and how fast it could go.

  Archer played the chivalrous guy by opening my door. Nevertheless, just before closing it, he leaned over close to my ear, close enough to make me shiver yet enough distance away to avoid being too intrusive.

  “You’d be pleased to know this isn’t the only engine I drive superbly well, machine or otherwise,” he whispered in a teasing tone.

  I wasn’t going to lie—okay, it wasn’t as if my body could lie for me since it was panting as if I’d had my first orgasm—but, fuck … He was so aggressive and arrogant I couldn’t help reacting to his advances. I had been in his company for what, like ten minutes, and it was already a full speed chase? Um … I needed a breather. Like stat.

  “Archer, you’re hot, but do you really have to be so flirty every second you’re with me? I’m calling a five-minute timeout.”

  I was attracted to him—who wouldn’t be? Seriously, though, it was exhausting to flirt. I’d had no idea until then.

  “A timeout?” Archer mused before turning on the powerful engine, which vibrated and roared to life. Shifting gears, he cocked his head to the side, giving me a challenging look. “You’re a laugh, you know that? I like it,” he declared before pressing on the gas pedal and driving like the daredevil he was.

  I’m a laugh. Did that mean I was funny, or did that translate to me being laughable? I wasn’t sure how to interpret it. Who would have thought proper English could be this confusing? I sure as hell hadn’t seen it coming.

  Chapter 67

  Denim skirt, how typical,” a pompous, goddess of a woman snidely remarked at my outfit. A little over five minutes in, this was the kind of haughtiness I was greeted with.

  Sure, she was skinny and out of your mind beautiful, but fuck, she was the ultimate bitch of the highest denominator. She acted as if my denim skirt was criminal. There was nothing wrong with it. I liked my denims, with or without anyone’s fucking approval, thank you very much.

  Ignoring the bitch’s malicious comments, I decided to stay close to Archer while his friends came and went, greeting him. Surprisingly enough, none of the women were friendly. Not a single soul with a set of boobs smiled at me. The guys Archer introduced? Heck, they all had sets of sunny smiles.

  “Your people haven’t heard of the word polite, have they?” I asked after a woman named Krissy gave me a death glare worthy of an Academy award.

  “It’s not usually like this, but women are the catty breed, aren’t they?” He laughed as he casually flung his arm around me. “It’s all right, love. I’ll protect you from getting clawed or scratched.”

  His promise lasted about twenty minutes—twenty-five, tops—before the Krissy woman came towards us and threw a mega-tantrum to get his undivided attention. And sure enough, Archer had to take her somewhere to calm her down and hopefully inject some sense in her.

  All on my lonesome while casually sipping my whiskey sour, I felt like the prime example of an outcast. Dressed differently than the rest with an American accent, I was sticking out like a sore thumb, and no matter how I tried to ignore the feeling, it couldn’t be helped. It was like that movie Mean Girls when the main character had to eat lunch in the bathroom because everyone was too cruel to care for the new girl.

  Scanning the crowd for Archer, I was beginning to wonder why he had gone with that pretty yet highly emotional woman. Just before I decided to take my leave in search of him, someone decided to join my company.

  “You look as though you need rescuing from boredom,” said the guy who was earlier introduced as Harvey. He was charming and carried a similar, flirty persona yet was lacking in the looks department. I supposed his personality made up for it.

  I wasn’t necessarily bored, but maybe in dire need of rescuing from looking like an epic loser.

  “It’s kind of you to notice.” Sending him a genuine smile, I took a quick sip of my beverage before directing my gaze at him. “What was that all about?” I asked.

  Harvey shook his head before giving an amused laugh, as if the mini-meltdown scene everyone had witnessed was the norm. “That is what a jealous-minded ex-girlfriend looks like.”

  “Should I be on the lookout? ’Cause I need to prepare myself, you know.”

  His grin grew wide before lightly tapping his chest. “You’re safe with me.”

  Our conversation came to a screeching halt when someone appeared by my side and intruded. “Harvey,” the man uttered in a commanding tone.

  Harvey made some mumbling excuse about needing to light a fag and left me to my own devices.

  Confused at the sudden way Harvey left, I looked up from the booth that I was sitting in to find the stunner himself.

  “I’m surprised to find you alone,” he drawled in a husky tone. “Why has my brother abandoned you, pray tell?”

  I wasn’t necessarily alone up until he got here and shooed poor Harvey away. Was Harvey scared of him or something? Because the poor guy just scampered as if he didn’t want to get bitten with venom.

  My tongue got caught somehow. I was taken aback at seeing him again. No man could hold a candle next to him because, in my eyes, he was flawless.

  My silence apparently was taken as an invitation for him to gesture for me to scoot over and make room for him, and of course, I obliged. I was flattered he didn’t take the opposite side, wanting to sit close to me. I knew I shouldn’t think much of it, be
cause heck, it was really nothing. However, I couldn’t help it. My body and mind were both going berserk from the absolute thrill of being this close to him.

  Stirring my drink with the tiny, black straw, I tried to hide my reddening cheeks by not looking directly at him. Certainly, there was little space between us, but I was dying inside. I had never reacted like this with any man, not until Cruz Elliot had come into my life. I felt as though lightning had struck me. I could feel him from head to foot and everything in between.

  “You can tell me, Serena. I don’t bite,” he teased in a low, whiskey-hoarse whisper that sent me into a tailspin of excitement.

  Jesus Christ. He had said my name, and I loved the way it sounded from his lips. Why was it that, every time he spoke, my mind never failed to conjure up sexual images? It was as if my mind was inclined to particular things. I had never been the horny kind, but I was beginning to think otherwise.

  “Archer had to take care of something. I really don’t mind being alone.” I finally found my voice, though not the courage to look directly into those metallic eyes.

  He was electrifying me without touching me. It was crazy to feel like this with someone I had met less than twenty-four hours ago.

  Clearing my throat, I pretended to look around as I asked him a question. “Where were you earlier tonight if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “I had to be somewhere …” He trailed off, sounding distracted.

  “Oh, okay. It must’ve been really important, then.” My light comment didn’t seem to rouse any response from him, so I decided to keep my mouth shut.

  As the silence stretched, the music in the background that I hadn’t really noticed before seemed much louder.

  “I should take you home,” he suggested, breaking the awkwardness that seemed to grow more daunting as the time ticked away. “My mother would be appalled if we didn’t take care of you.”

  What time is it? I thought as I glanced towards my old cell phone to check the time. It was barely thirty minutes before midnight, and I wasn’t in a rush to go back yet. I didn’t know why, though maybe it was because this was my first time out in a new city, and I wanted to get to know it more. The vibe and ambiance was so different from what I was used to. I was intrigued by it, sans the bitchiness of a few women.

  “I’m fine. It’s still early,” I argued softly, not wanting to come off as rude. Besides, I wasn’t a child, so there was no need to treat me as one.

  “All right. That’s fine by me,” he conceded. “How about I take you for some coffee to sober you up a little?” he suggested, making me glance at him.

  “Coffee?” I asked, smiling broadly. “Geez, aren’t you a downer?”

  There was no question that Cruz was the serious type compared to his brother. How old is he, anyway? I wondered as I gazed into his eyes, making me inwardly sigh.

  “Yes, Miss Coffee Snob,” he quipped back, matching my grin. “I’m much better company than this spoiled lot.”

  The smile he gave me was highway robbery. Staring at him, I let my eyes roam his gorgeously chiseled face in pure, unparalleled admiration. How could any man be allowed to be that good-looking?

  “Well, you certainly are the best looking one here, hands down.” I wasn’t one to say compliments to any man, but with the alcohol hazing my mouth filter, there was no stopping it from being blurted out.

  He made a face, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard before he gave a throaty, deep-bellied laugh. “My dear Serena …” he finally said after his laughing hysterics began to calm down.

  I tried to brush his endearment off as if it didn’t make me feel like I was floating on clouds. Instead, I brazenly challenged him further.

  “Come on, don’t pretend like you’re not used to the attention. You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen … to date.”

  “To date?” he huffed as his face broke out into another toe-curling smile. “My, how you instantly shatter a man’s ego just as quickly as you inflate it.”

  “A man with deflated ego, how are we going to fix that?” Raising my brow at him, I found myself immersed in him and this little world of banter he and I were dancing around.

  “Easily. Just have coffee with me.”

  “Okay,” I finally agreed. “But just so you know, I’m not drunk, so I don’t need sobering up.”

  “Of course you’re not.” His eyes twinkled, not buying the load I was selling him.

  Gathering ourselves out of the booth, I barely noticed people watching us depart. I was too absorbed in the fact that he had his hand on the base of my back as he guided us out of the bar. His warm hand made me feel electrified, and I simply wanted to stop thinking and have fun with him, come what may.

  Emerging from the bar and walking towards his parked car, I noted that his hand hadn’t come off my back. I was beginning to like it too much, having him this close to me.

  “What is that scent you’re wearing?” I blurted out as I leaned a little closer to get a whiff of it. “What cologne is it?”

  “I don’t wear cologne. Maybe it’s my aftershave.”

  Well, hell, was there anything about this guy that I didn’t like? I just wished I could find something to put me off so I didn’t have to act like a fool around him. All this excitement was too much for my blood pressure.

  “My car is through here,” he said, guiding me towards a black Range Rover.

  Just as he was opening the door for me, I spun around to face him, curious. “Is there something wrong with denim skirts on this side of the world that I wasn’t aware of?”

  His brows furrowed, taken aback by my random question. “You’re asking me about denim?”

  “Yeah …”

  “I find it … well …” His gaze dropped to my skirt, lingering on my legs while his eyes burned. “You have quite the lovely gams,” he rasped out in such a way that it sent tingles all over me.

  Sexual thoughts, here we go once more. Fuck.

  “You can stop staring at my legs now.” It was too much too soon. It was undeniable, this chemistry we had. I wasn’t imagining it, either. It was obvious he felt it, too.

  “You did invite me to, so here I am … enjoying the view.”

  My sanity was on the verge of being thrown to the wind. Even though there was this thing with Cruz, I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. My ex-boyfriend did such a number on me, and I didn’t want that repeated.

  “Jesus Christ, must you all be so flirty? Archer, you—I can’t breathe for a second without having palpitations. You both are just too everything—”

  “You find my brother charming?” he inquired.

  There was stillness in him that made me seek his eyes. “No—yes … Well, it’s hard not to be.”

  Something flashed in his eyes. “He’s a good man, but he doesn’t like to take women too seriously. I’m just giving you a precaution in case you get carried away. He’s not that type. He likes variety.”

  He was giving me a warning of what type of a man Archer was, and I appreciated it, but maybe there was something he misunderstood from me.

  “What makes you think I’m not that kind, as well? Who wants commitment, anyway?”

  He studied me a moment, scrutinizing me with those vividly mesmerizing eyes. “Most women do.”

  “Maybe I’m not like most women. Maybe I like to play the field, too.”

  He nodded as if fully understanding me. “Brilliant. Then there’s nothing to worry about,” he said in a serious voice before holding the door open, indicating he was done discussing the subject.

  His demeanor didn’t come off rude, but there was an apparent shift in his attitude. It didn’t give me the warm fuzzies; that was for sure.

  The moment he started the engine, I could feel him deep in thought as he weaved into traffic. He didn’t bother turning on the music or making small talk. He was quiet as he concentrated on the road while I wondered why I had to say things I didn’t mean that had possibly offended him.

/>   Was it that my statement about not wanting commitment and wanting to have fun made me look like a loose cannon? Was his silence an indication that he was worried I might bring problems to his mother’s household? Reflecting on what had happened, I hoped he didn’t deem me as trouble.

  Chapter 68

  How about we have some coffee back at the house?” My suggestion got a nod and a cool “of course.”

  As much as I loved being around him, I got the feeling I had somehow offended him, so maybe prolonging the night in his company wasn’t a great idea.

  Here’s to hoping he wouldn’t really take up my offer of having coffee back at their house. I hoped he skipped it altogether so I could go to my room and scold myself for being a carefree idiot.

  Parked right outside the house, we got out of the car, walking side by side. Producing his keys, he then let us inside the foyer. The house was dimly lit, bright enough for people to see as they navigated around their surroundings. I wondered where the stiff butler, whose name I had yet to find out, and Anne were. I supposed they had their own separate quarters, or they might have gone home and would come back in the morning.

  “Do you still want coffee or a strong nightcap?” Cruz asked, stopping in his tracks in the middle of the foyer.

  Frowning, I gazed at him with a contorted face. “Are you offering me alcohol?” I double-checked, confused at his sudden change of mind. Had I missed something? I couldn’t be sure.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “But I thought the main point of us leaving was for me to sober up?” My voice came out a little louder than intended.

  He shrugged. “Not entirely. I didn’t like seeing you alone with random men coming up to you, thinking you’re the next dish to be savored. Archer left you to your own devices while he’s probably up to some shenanigans.”

  “It’s not really that big of a deal. I can handle myself if something bad happens.” There was no need for over-protectiveness. It was appreciated, but unnecessary.

  “Well, I made sure that didn’t need to happen. So, coffee? Or do you want something stronger?”