It took Nayo several seconds to realize Ivan was referring to Geoff. Although Geoff had long hair and lived in the Village, he was anything but bohemian. He went through phases where he’d grow his hair long, then when his patrician grandmother complained about his appearance, he cut it. As heir to a collection of priceless art, Geoff knew when to rebel and when to conform.
Pressing her mouth to Ivan’s strong neck, Nayo closed her eyes. “There’s no need for you to be jealous of Geoff.”
Ivan chided himself for bringing the man up. He’d never been one to have a third person in his bed, whether tangible or intangible. He moved his hips, Nayo following his lead as if they’d done their dance of desire countless times.
Nayo melted into the firmness of the mattress as Ivan’s lips caressed hers, eliciting delicious sensations that started at her toes and swept up to her chest like a sirocco sweeping across a dry, hot desert.
Anchoring her arms under his shoulders, she held on to Ivan as he set a slow, sensual rhythm that quickened, slowed and quickened again. His lips traced a path from her mouth to her throat and along her shoulders. She was on fire!
Nayo moaned softly, then bit her lip to stop its trembling as shivers of delight gripped her tightly, held for several seconds before releasing her. She writhed as wave upon wave of erotic pleasure pulsed through her body, leaving her gasping in sweet agony. She’d fantasized about Ivan making love to her, but her fantasies paled in comparison to the reality.
Ivan couldn’t believe the pleasure he derived from the tight warmth of Nayo’s body, the way her flesh opened and closed around him, milking him until he was unable to hold back his climax. Cupping her hips in his palms, he lifted her higher to allow for deeper penetration.
Then without warning, Nayo screamed his name, the sound lingering in the silence of the bedroom and making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Their bodies were so attuned to each other that when she cried out for release, his deep moans overlapped hers.
They lay together, breathing in deep lungfuls of air. If he hadn’t recently had a complete physical, Ivan would’ve thought that he was having a heart attack. Waiting until his breath resumed a normal rhythm, he pressed his mouth to the column of Nayo’s moist neck.
Although he’d known there was something special about the photographer the moment he met her, he’d never imagined he’d fall in love with her. Even as a therapist, he didn’t want to analyze why Nayo Goddard and not some other woman.
Now he knew what Duncan and Kyle were bragging about when they claimed they were able to recognize that special woman who would make them commit and plan for a future that included marriage and children.
It’d taken only a week for him to recognize that Nayo was his special woman, a woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, a woman he wanted as his wife, life partner and the mother of their children.
“I’ll be right back,” he whispered, loath to withdraw from her warm body.
Ivan slipped off the bed and went into the adjoining bathroom to discard the condom. When he returned, he found Nayo on her side with her back to him, asleep. Climbing into bed, he looped an arm around her waist and they lay together like spoons.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Ivan smiled. He thought she’d fallen asleep. “You’re welcome.”
Those were the last two words he said as he closed his eyes, joining Nayo in the sated slumber reserved for lovers.
CHAPTER 10
“Now I know you really like me,” Nayo said as she smoothly maneuvered Ivan’s Stingray to the curb only feet from Kyle Chatham’s Georgian-inspired home along the street known as Strivers’ Row.
“Why’s that?” Ivan asked.
“You let me drive your mistress.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, doll face. I’d never equate an inanimate object to my mistress.”
Nayo shut off the engine, handing Ivan the keys. When she’d suggested taking a taxi to Kyle’s house, Ivan rebuffed her suggestion, saying he was driving. They’d walked three blocks to the garage where he kept his car, and when the attendant exited the twenty-four-hour garage driving the classic sports car, she couldn’t conceal her surprise. Her brother, who collected, restored and sold classic cars, owned the same model as Ivan. Even the gleaming black paint job was the same.
“Most guys I know wouldn’t let a woman touch their cars,” she said. “I knew a few who wouldn’t let a woman even sit in their precious vehicles.” The word vehicles came out in three distinct syllables.
“Any time you want to drive it, you can.”
Nayo waited as Ivan got out of the low-slung car and came around to the driver’s side to assist her. Extending his hand, he pulled her gently to her feet. Then he gathered her in a close embrace and kissed her.
“Get a room, Campbell!” shouted a deep voice a short distance away.
Ivan eased back but didn’t drop his arms when he saw Duncan Gilmore, who’d just gotten out of a taxi. His fiancée stood at his side, smiling. “Mind your neck, DG,” he teased, smiling broadly.
Nayo knew she was staring at the man Ivan called DG, but she couldn’t help it. The man was past fine. He was gorgeous! And the tall woman standing next to him was his female counterpart. Her thick, dark, chemically straightened hair was pulled off her face and secured with a narrow, black-velvet ribbon. She and the man Ivan called DG shared the same olive-tawny complexion, but whereas DG’s eyes were a clear gold color hers were a deep brown.
Duncan Gilmore stepped forward, extending his hand to Nayo. “Duncan Gilmore. This lady is Tamara Walcott.”
Ivan’s arm tightened around Nayo’s waist. She wore a bottle-green, sheepskin-lined, three-quarter swing coat. “DG, Tamara, this is Nayo Goddard.”
Nayo shook hands with Duncan and Tamara. “It’s nice meeting you.”
Ivan lowered his head, kissing Nayo’s hair. “Why don’t you and Tamara go inside? I’ll get DG to help me bring in the wine and dessert.”
Waiting until Nayo and Tamara disappeared into the three-story, buff-brick building with white-stone trim, Ivan turned to see Duncan staring at him. He knew his friend was curious about Nayo.
“What, DG?”
“What what, Ivan?”
“I guess you want to know about her?”
Duncan, crossing his arms over the front of his bulky sweater, affected an expression of indifference. “Did I ask about her, Ivan? You know I can’t keep up with the number of women you hang with.”
“This one is special.” The admission came out before Ivan could censor himself.
“How special, brother?”
Ivan ducked his head, smiling. “Very, very special. Now I know what you were talking about when you met Tamara. Nayo’s different from the others.”
Duncan lifted his silky eyebrows. “We’ll see.”
“Hold up, DG. What do you mean by ‘We’ll see’?”
“I’ve lost count of the number of women I’ve seen you with over the years. To me, Nayo is just another one to add to the names and faces I’ve forgotten.”
Ivan’s expression mirrored his annoyance and resentment. He’d always been there for Duncan, especially when he’d lost his mother and his fiancée, and he was annoyed at DG’s cynical response.
“Forget it, DG.” He went back to the Corvette. “Help me bring something inside.”
Duncan Gilmore hesitated, then followed his friend. He knew Ivan was upset with him. But how did he expect him to react? He’d never heard “love them and leave them” Ivan Campbell talk about any woman being special.
He’d known Ivan to date a woman once or twice, then move on to the next. It was as if he feared committing to one woman. Even Kyle had engaged in relationships of long duration, had been, in fact, the only one of the three friends to propose marriage before his thirtieth birthday.
“I’m sorry, Ivan.”
“What the hell are you apologizing about?”
Duncan stared at the familiar mask of indif
ference that turned his best friend into a stranger. “I didn’t mean to minimize your feelings for Nayo.”
Ivan picked up a case of wine, shoving it at Duncan. “Take that inside.” The two men stared at each other with what might’ve become a visual beat-down. The beginnings of a smile flitted across his features. “Apology accepted.”
Duncan smiled back. “She’s cute. There’s something about her that reminds me of Ava.”
“It’s probably the short hair and their coloring.” Ivan lifted a large box filled with delicate Italian pastries.
“Where did you meet her and how long have you two been together?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Ivan said when he saw Kyle Chatham standing in the doorway.
* * *
Nayo felt as if she’d known Ava Warwick and Tamara Walcott for years when she sat in the ultramodern black-and-white kitchen with the two women, She noticed the exquisite diamond engagement rings on their left hands.
The three had settled on stools at the cooking island sipping wine and munching on assorted crostinis with tomato and basil, spicy shrimp, white bean with sage and avocado and goat cheese, while the men retreated to a room in the rear of the house to watch football.
Ava rolled her slanting dark eyes. “Eight more weeks and then it will be over,” she whispered.
Tamara sucked her teeth loudly. “Don’t forget there’s still the Super Bowl.”
Nayo studied the two women. Ava Warwick, a social worker, and E.R. doctor Tamara Walcott were engaged to marry Kyle Chatham and Duncan Gilmore the following year. She and Ava both had short hair and similar coloring, but Ava was taller, her body fuller than Nayo’s. Tamara’s was statuesque, her figure full and undeniably womanly.
“Don’t remind me,” Ava drawled. “Kyle said he was going to try to get tickets for the Super Bowl for himself, Jordan, Duncan and Ivan.”
Tamara took a sip of wine, while peering over the rim of her glass at Ava. “Duncan didn’t mention anything to me about going to the Super Bowl.” She turned to Nayo. “Did Ivan say anything to you about the Super Bowl?”
Nayo shook her head. “Not a word.” How could she tell them that she had just met Ivan and didn’t know enough about him?
Tamara reached for another crostini. “How did you meet Ivan?”
“He came to a gallery where I had a showing of photographs.”
Ava sat up straighter. “You’re a photographer?”
Nayo smiled. “Yes.”
“I’m still looking for a photographer for my wedding,” Ava said. “My wedding planner has tried to get a good one, but all seemed to be booked.”
“When and where are you getting married?”
“It’s scheduled for Valentine’s Day in San Juan, Puerto Rico. If you’re coming with Ivan, it would work out perfectly.”
“Don’t you want to see my work, Ava?” Nayo asked.
“How was your showing?”
A beat passed as Nayo gazed at Ava. “It was very successful.”
Ava waved her hand. “If it makes you feel more comfortable, I’ll look at your work. Meanwhile, don’t book any events for that day.”
Shifting slightly on the stool, Nayo gave Tamara a questioning look. “Do you also need a photographer?”
Tamara touched the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “I’m not getting married until June, so it’s not too early to talk about photographers. I’d like to see your work, then Duncan and I will make a decision.”
“Where are you getting married?” Nayo asked her.
“We’re getting married aboard a ship here in the city. Duncan has already reserved space on the Celestial.”
“Are you both using the same wedding planner?”
Tamara and Ava shared a smile. “Yes,” they chorused.
“Kyle mentored the husband of the owner of Signature Bridals when he was in law school,” Ava said proudly.
“Do you know how difficult it is to become a Signature bride?” Nayo asked. “I’ve heard rumors that the mother of a prospective bride offered to pay Signature Bridals a cool million dollars to bump another bride from a particular wedding date so her daughter could have it.”
“Did Tessa Whitfield-Sanborn take it?”
“The last I heard she refused to take the woman’s telephone calls.”
Tamara shook her head. “Now that’s what you call ballsy. Didn’t the woman know that some people just can’t be bought, no matter the price?”
“Thank goodness for that,” Ava drawled.
Tamara gave Ava a knowing look. “You’re talking smack because you’re going to be a Signature bride.”
“So are you,” Ava countered.
“Only because your man knows the husband of the owner,” Nayo said.
Raising her wineglass, Ava toasted Nayo. “You’re right about that. It’s not what you know, it’s who you know.”
“Here, here,” Nayo and Tamara chorused, touching glasses.
Kyle Chatham strolled into the kitchen. When Ivan had introduced Nayo to the attorney, he didn’t shake her hand, but kissed her cheek while welcoming her to his home. He was the perfect prototype for tall, dark and handsome. The sprinkling of gray in his cropped hair only served to enhance his good looks.
“What’s on the menu for halftime snacks?”
Ava pointed to a tray of crostini. “We’re having these.”
Kyle’s eyes narrowed as he peered closely at the small circles of toasted baguettes. “Is that it?”
Ava gave him an incredulous look. “Yes, that’s it. What were you expecting?”
“I thought you were going to make buffalo wings with an assortment of chips and dips, not these little froufrou doodads.”
“Tamara said crostini is healthier than wings.”
Nayo exchanged a glance with Tamara. It was as if they’d connected telepathically. As if on cue, they slipped off their stools and prepared to leave the kitchen, but Kyle’s outburst impeded their smooth escape.
“Healthier!” he shouted.
“What’s the holdup, Kyle?” Ivan asked, walking into the kitchen, Duncan several steps behind him.
Kyle gave his friends a wry smile. “The ladies have decided we need to eat healthier. Therefore our halftime cuisine is itty-bitty French bread topped with veggies.”
“No wings?” Ivan and Duncan said in unison. Their crestfallen expressions were priceless.
Clapping a hand over her mouth, Nayo was able to muffle the laughter bubbling up from her throat. She couldn’t believe grown men were acting like children because they were denied their favorite party food.
Duncan shook his head. “We get together once a week to watch football, and this is the first time we’ve been subjected to halftime lockdown.”
Ivan, muscular arms crossed over a black, crewneck, cashmere sweater, glared at Kyle. “Handle your woman, Chatham.”
“It’s not Ava,” Kyle said.
“Then who is it?” Duncan asked. The expression on his face was disbelief.
Ivan stared at Nayo. “I know it’s not my woman, so it has to be yours, DG.”
Duncan slapped his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Baby, you didn’t.”
Tamara rested her hands on her hips. She wore a pair of chocolate-brown stretch pants and a man-tailored white shirt. Overhead recessed light caught the brilliance of the emerald-cut diamond on her left hand. “Yes, I did. You have to learn to eat healthier.”
A rush of color flooded Duncan’s face, and his eyes appeared lighter than they actually were. “I eat healthy six days a week, and we are entitled to have a halftime snack once a week. And you’re lucky football has a short season. We could do this for every Yankee and Mets home game.” He looked at Ivan for support. “What if we meet at your place next Sunday for our MNO?”
“What’s an MNO?” Nayo asked.
“Men’s night out,” Kyle explained.
Nayo’s eyebrows lifted. “I see.” It was apparent that whenever the three men got together, they dete
rmined beforehand whether they would include their women.
Ivan met Nayo’s eyes. He was in a quandary. He always enjoyed hanging out with Kyle and Duncan, but that was before he’d met Nayo. His lifelong friends were his brothers; they would always have one another’s back, but things had changed. They all operated their own businesses out of the same building, yet they spent less downtime together. It was something he attributed to being an employer, rather than an employee.
Things had also changed because his two friends were engaged to be married, and their personal focus was now their future wives and eventually children. Ivan hadn’t realized it until today, but he wanted what Kyle and Duncan had: a stable relationship with one woman. Duncan’s comment that he hadn’t been able to keep up with the number of women he’d seen Ivan with over the years had cut to the quick.
Had he dated a lot of women?
Yes.
Had he slept with a lot of women?
No.
Had he fallen in love with any of them?
No.
He had professed to love one woman in his past, but realized after they parted that it was mere infatuation, more lust than love. What he felt for Nayo was different. She’d changed him inside and out. She’d softened his gruff exterior, making him laugh when he hadn’t wanted to laugh.
“What’s up, Ivan?” Duncan asked. “Are we going to meet at your place next Sunday?”
“I’m not able to commit right now. I have to check with Nayo.”
Duncan opened his mouth to challenge Ivan, but caught his fiancée’s warning look. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
Ava placed a spicy shrimp crostini on a napkin and handed it to Kyle. “Try this.”
He popped the small appetizer into his mouth, chewing slowly. A smile spread across his handsome features. “Hey, that’s good.” He pointed to another on the platter. “What’s this one?”
“Tomato and basil, darling,” Ava crooned.
Ivan moved closer to the platter, peering at the crostini. “I’ll take one with tomato and basil.”
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