“Yeah, I kinda get that a lot,” she commiserated.
“I’m sure you do,” he said looking admiringly at her profile.
“Devon, let’s cut to the chase, shall we? I know who you are and you know who I am. I’m here to get away from the drama. I don’t need more.”
“How do you equate me with drama?” he asked.
She tilted her head and purposefully looked at the woman waiting for him. “Oh, I don’t know, perhaps it’s the enamored teenager standing there, panting breathlessly and waiting for you.”
“You seem to be an expert at getting rid of unwanted attention, so any suggestions would be greatly appreciated,” he said. She stared into his eyes, seeing his sincerity. “Look, you don’t know me, and it’s not your problem. I get that, but…” Jazz looked away quickly. Devon stopped speaking. He leaned away from the post and moved toward the gazebo entrance to leave. He stepped down the one step.
Jazz knew a solution, but that would mean putting herself out there, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to do that until she saw the young girl’s face. She was smiling victoriously, like she’d just won a prize at the county fair. She seemed too young to look as cocky as she did. Jazz knew girls like her. They got whatever they wanted, by looks, by plastic, by connections.
Suddenly striking a victory for the rest of the population who didn’t trade in on their father’s wealth and advantages prompted her to call out. “Devon,” Jazz said before she could stop herself. He turned. She got up and walked over to him. They stood nearly eye to eye. She reached out slowly and stroked the side of his face tenderly. Then, without a word, she leaned in, drew his face closer and kissed him. Their lips met, once, twice, three and four times, each touching and tasting just enough to make a point. Jazz leaned back, more surprised by his nonaction than her impulsiveness. He hadn’t touched her. He’d barely even returned her kiss. “I think you’re gonna have to do better than that if you want to make your point.”
Before she could continue, his arm instantly encircled her waist, pulling her body flush against his. She gasped, surprised by his strength and feeling the solid hardness of his body. She looked up into his dark eyes. He smiled, seeing his own wanton thoughts reflected in her eyes. He stepped forward and pressed her body against the nearest gazebo post. He cupped the back of her head as his mouth descended. He paused a brief instant and then kissed her as if their lives depended on it. Deep and sensual, his kiss instantly set her on fire, searing her body from the inside out.
She opened her mouth to him, and he entered. The sensuous feel of his tongue dipping into her mouth was intoxicating. Her body shuddered as the kiss intensified. She met the pressure of his kiss with equal fervor. Her insides tingled and her pulse accelerated as every nerve in her body sizzled. She felt a rush of excitement that slashed through her body. It had been a long time since a man kissed her like this.
She felt her body mold to his as her senses floated far beyond. Passion began to swell. Her heart pounded, her stomach fluttered and her body ached for him. She was losing control, and she realized that right now she just didn’t care.
A soft moan of utter satisfaction hummed deep in her throat as she wrapped her arms around him, holding on tight. It felt as if every part of her body was on fire. The kiss was so much more than she had expected. It was mind-blowing, and he was insatiable. It staggered her, and in their passion they’d long since forgotten the woman in red. Then, suddenly mindful of what she was doing, Jazz leaned back and away. “Devon,” she said breathlessly. “Devon, wait—we need to stop.”
He stopped, but still held her close. Then, seeing her face, he grew concerned. “Are you okay?” he asked. She nodded then took a deep breath. “Are you sure?”
She nodded again. “Yeah, just a little breathless,” she said, smiling.
“So I took your breath away. I like the sound of that.”
She looked at him, not at all surprised by his bravado. “Calm down. I was only acting,” she said.
He smiled and shook his head. “That kiss was not acting.”
“You are so…” She paused. “So…,” she said, easing back.
“Charming?” he suggested. She laughed, shaking her head. “Dashing?” She laughed again. “Charismatic?”
“How about conceited?” she said.
“Is it conceited to know the difference between a real kiss and acting?”
“I’m a very good actor.”
He nodded, conceding the fact. “That’ll work for now,” Devon said easily as he wrapped his arms around her waist and held tight. The conversation had somehow turned to slow dancing. They swayed, languishing as the scant breeze swirled around them.
Jazz peered down the path toward the patio. The young girl in red was gone. “I do believe your friend got the message.”
He glanced back. “You did it. Thank you,” he whispered.
“You’re welcome.”
“Now, how do I repay you?”
“You don’t.”
“I have to. I always pay my debts. My grandfather used to say that a man in debt is a man in trouble. You don’t want me in trouble, do you?” he asked, swaying their bodies effortlessly.
She could feel her body yielding to him again, but she didn’t want to lose control. “I don’t usually dance,” she said, stepping back.
“That’s not exactly true,” he said with a smile knowing that she was well known for her moves.
She smiled. He was right. She danced all the time in her videos and onstage. “You’re right, but I don’t usually slow dance, particularly when there’s no music,” she said.
“Ahh, but there is music,” he whispered quietly. “Listen.”
Jazz listened. “All I hear are crickets and maybe a frog or two.”
“No, close your eyes and listen closer. What do you hear?” She closed her eyes. He began detailing the sounds around them. “A gentle breeze, crickets, a woman’s laughter from the party and…”
Jazz opened her eyes, smiling. “My mother’s voice.”
He nodded. “Exactly.”
She smiled and stepped back again. He opened his arms to free her this time. Putting distance between them, she purposely went to the far end of the gazebo. “I take it back,” she said, feeling emotion beginning to sweep over her. “You’re not conceited. You’re…”
“I’m what?” he asked after she went silent.
She moved to the gazebo’s entrance then turned and looked back at him. Standing there she could see how he was every woman’s fantasy. But he was also too “…complicated.”
His eyes narrowed with focused intensity. “Not at all. We both know how this goes. I want you,” he whispered, barely audible.
“But you can’t have me,” she said.
“Not even as a friend?” he asked. She didn’t respond. He nodded. “Okay, Then stay—we can talk some more.” She smiled and shook her head slowly. “Please, stay with me.”
“Tempting, very tempting, but as much as I’ve enjoyed the evening’s entertainment, I think I need to go now. Good night, Devon. Thank you for the dance.”
“Jazz,” he called out softly. She stopped but didn’t turn around. “I still owe you, and I always pay my debts.” She didn’t reply. Moments later she was gone. Devon didn’t move or try to stop her. He sat back on the rail in the darkness and smiled.
Chapter 3
INTERIOR—DEVON’S HOME—EARLY MORNING
Hours later Devon woke up on fire, his arms and legs tangled in the silk sheets, his pillows tossed to the floor. He sat up and looked around the room. The quiet darkness assured him that he was in his bed alone. He lay back and closed his eyes again. Kissing Jazz earlier that night had set his body ablaze and he’d been laying awake most of the night thinking about her. She had burned into his blood, and each time he closed his eyes to sleep she came to him in his dreams.
In this last dream she was the essence of a warm, gentle mist. The scent of her sweet perfumed body surrounded him. She was ev
erywhere, touching every inch of his body. He reached out to hold her. She vanished. Then the mist slowly cleared, and she appeared again. She was a shadow at first; then her smooth brown skin formed her slender body. He reached out and touched her, feeling the smooth curve of her back. His body hardened with need as he drew her close. Soon her seductive body pressed against his and they were lying down on a white sand beach. She kissed him, and her full soft lips released his passion. They made love shrouded in the mist. It was surreal and erotic.
He smiled as he lay in the darkness. The memory was perfect, them together making love on the beach. Slowly he drifted back to sleep with that thought. The constant buzzing sound made him look to the side table. His cell phone was vibrating. He grabbed it and quickly answered. “Yeah.”
“Hey, am I interrupting something?”
“No, I was asleep, dreaming,” Devon said, sitting up quickly. Hearing his sister Terri’s voice immediately concerned him. Although she called to stay in touch, she wasn’t the type to call this late unless something was wrong. “Are you okay? Is Debbie okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Deb’s fine, nicely tucked in at college. I just needed a break. You sound stressed—that must have been some dream.”
“It was. So, what’s going on?” he asked.
She sighed heavily. “Just a crazy day, that’s all.”
“Is the exciting world of advertising getting too stressful for you all of a sudden?” he asked, already knowing better.
“Today it was. I had a shoot, and two models didn’t show up. I was stuck on the San Francisco wharf waiting for the fog to lift. I finally talked the client into making it a night scene.”
“How’d it come out?” he asked.
“Even better than I originally planned,” she said proudly. “My client is thrilled. He already agreed to do more work with us.”
“Congratulations. That’s why you get the big bucks.”
“Yeah, right,” she joked. “Hey, I’ve got some really good news. I found out today that I’m up for a creative advertising award. It’s not as big a deal as the Addy Awards or the Clios, but it’s still a nice accomplishment.”
“Hey, that’s great, fantastic news. Congratulations again. When do you get the award?”
“I’m nominated. I still have to win.”
“You’ll win. Just make sure to mention me in the speech.”
“There’s an awards dinner, but I’m not going,” she said.
“You should go.”
“I don’t know, maybe.”
“No maybes. Go, I’ll escort you. It’ll be fun.”
“All right, we’ll go together. It’s quiet there—where are you, exactly?”
“I’m home.”
“Home where?”
“I’m at the beach.”
“Which beach?”
“Sag Harbor.”
“Hmm, Sag Harbor—that sounds like a good idea. I could use a few days of R & R, and I haven’t seen Grandmom and Granddad in months. Why don’t you send a jet to come get me?”
“Like you’d actually come.”
“I might,” Terri said, but they both knew better. She’d just started her own advertising firm and even though she had her brother, the number one face in America, on speed dial, she wanted to make it on her own. “So, what are you doing home already? It’s what—three-thirty a.m. on the East Coast?”
He glanced over at the clock. “Yeah, about that. I went to a party then came home early.”
“That doesn’t sound like you.”
“It was at Melanie Harte’s house. I left early.”
“Really? So you’re really going through with it?”
“If you’re referring to Melanie’s matchmaking services, yes, I am,” he said. “Melanie’s track record and reputation is the best.”
“But a professional matchmaker, Devon, it’s so old school. Why not use a healer or a witch doctor the next time you need knee surgery while you’re at it? You don’t find lasting love like that. It’s a crapshoot at best. Besides, I still don’t get why you need to get married all of a sudden. Is it because the contract negotiations are stalled?”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“Internet, radio, newspapers,” she said.
“Yeah, they’re stalled. And it’s not all of a sudden and I don’t need to get married. I want to get married. It’s time. It’s what’s missing in my life.”
“Fine, whatever, it’s your life. You know what all this is really about, don’t you?”
“This has nothing to do with what happened.”
“Of course it does. You don’t trust yourself anymore. It’s understandable. Trina, your ex-fiancée, dumped you, and you got hurt. You thought she was the one, and then she goes and does that. It’s only natural to feel mistrustful. You were together for a long time, and then to have her turn on you like that.”
“I realize not all women are like Trina. And my wanting to get married has nothing to do with what happened.”
“Yes, it does. You jumped out of the frying pan into the fire. After Trina, there was Tasha. Heaven knows what you were thinking when you hooked up with her. Talk about fatal attraction. She was nuts and fixated on you. She lied to you constantly and then attacked you publicly. I still don’t see why you didn’t press charges.”
Devon closed his eyes, fighting the memory of the hell Tasha put him through and how she almost cost him everything. Terri was right—her attraction was definitely fatal. But three o’clock in the morning wasn’t the time to rehash his mistakes. He’d gotten over it and was trying to move on with his life. He just wished the rest of the world would, too. “Are you done strolling down memory lane?” he asked.
“Devon…”
“Terri, let it go,” he said in that tone he always used to end the conversation. Devon had had this same discussion with his sister several times before. They went around in circles. She didn’t understand how important this was to him. He knew in his heart that what he was doing was necessary. This was his future.
“Okay, fine.” Terri yielded, knowing she’d never be able to convince her brother what he was doing was another impulsive act. “I’m sorry, Devon. It’s just that you’re my big brother and I hate seeing you like this. You don’t need a matchmaker to find love. You just need time to trust yourself again.” He didn’t respond. “So, how was Melanie’s party?” she asked, knowing it was best to change the subject.
“Interesting. There were a few familiar faces. Armand and Scott showed up. Also, I met Jazelle Richardson.”
“Jazz Richardson? Get out, really? How’d she look?”
“She looked beautiful,” he said, smiling.
“I can definitely believe that. She’s got that reserved style and class that few people have, especially in her line of business. Most entertainers are crass and tacky. She’s not. You know, she’d be great for this new cosmetic client I’m trying to land. I wonder if she’d be interested?” she thought out loud.
“You’d have to ask her.”
“Is she one of Melanie’s clients, too?”
“No, she was just at the party,” he said.
“She’d be perfect for the perfume campaign. She’s an independent woman, strong, focused. She’s got her own career, she’s talented and she’s famous, and did I mention that she’d be perfect for this new ad campaign?”
“Yes, I believe you mentioned that,” he said.
“So?” Terri asked.
“So what?” Devon questioned.
“So, what happened at the party?”
“The party was nice. There were a lot of people and—”
“No, I mean with Jazz. The tabloids say that she went to rehab for drugs and pills. Did she?”
“I don’t know. She seemed fine when I talked to her. You know how the tabloids love to sell papers. They’ll print anything about anybody. It doesn’t necessarily have to be the truth. You’ve read the things they write about me,” he said.
Te
rri laughed. “Yeah, but the stuff they write about you is usually true.”
“Not funny,” he said, “and not all of it.”
Terri paused a moment. She didn’t mean to remind him again of the scandal that had led him to his current predicament. “I didn’t mean to…Tasha was a clear case of a crazed, obsessed fan, everybody knows that.”
“Now, yes, after the fact. But not then,” he said.
“That’s not true, Devon. You got a lot of support. It was just her father that kept pushing it. He wanted his fifteen minutes of fame, and now he has it. Extortion, blackmail, perjury—he has all the fame he can handle for the next several years, and so does she.”
“Yeah,” he said, fighting the bitterness of the memory.
“So tell me, Jazz looked well?”
Devon locked his thoughts on her smiling face and nodded. “She looked,” he said, then paused, thinking about her in that dress and their kiss, “stunning.”
“Beautiful, stunning—sounds like the two of you hit it off. Actually, she’d be an interesting match for you.”
“You think so?” he said coolly.
“You’re attracted to her, aren’t you?”
“I can’t believe you just asked me that question. Since when do we discuss my personal life in detail?”
“Since now. Answer the question. You’re attracted to her.”
He sighed loudly. “Yes, I am. So what? Half the men in the country are attracted to her,” he added.
“You can both be in the ad campaign. It’ll be romantic.”
“Whoa, slow down. We just talked and then…” He paused before saying too much. “Besides, I thought you said that matchmaking was old school.”
“I stand corrected. What else happened? You were going to say something. What was it? Something happened between you, didn’t it? Come on, you can tell me,” she prompted.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. She and I only talked a few minutes. I don’t know much about her other than what I’ve heard,” he said.
Terri yawned. “I don’t buy it.”
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