3 Seductions and a Wedding

by Julie Leto

  He cleared his throat, trying not to replay the experience in his mind when he was still trying to recover.

  He crossed the room and removed a print hanging on the wall across from the sofa. Determining that the hooks would work adequately, he took the sides of the device in his hands and pulled. The polymers his company had developed stretched to the desired width. He attached the screen to the hooks and then pulled the sides to an adequate length. He stepped back and, satisfied with the shape, went to his computer and keyed in the code to activate his newest invention. “Oh!”

  The screen lit up, an exact mirror of his laptop screen, with impressively crisp quality. “Cool, yes?”

  She stood and examined the device more closely, running her hands gingerly over the edge. When she turned, her mouth was still open in surprise.

  “Ajay, this is amazing. Can you adjust it to any size you want?”

  He nodded. “It can run small like I had it on the table or slightly larger than what I have now. At least, that’s the capability of this version. It can work as a computer screen or a television, in high definition. But you can’t tell anyone you’ve seen it. We’re still in the testing stages. We hope to unveil it at the tech shows next year.”

  “You’re going to make a mint,” she said, laughing excitedly.

  “I already have a mint,” he mumbled, but she did not seem to hear his boast as she’d turned back to admire his invention.

  He could remember precisely where he was the minute the idea had come to him, when a presentation to investors was foiled by a malfunctioning projection screen. He’d ended up giving his pitch from his laptop. The money men had to shift and stretch to see what he was talking about, and he’d cursed the lack of a custom-designed screen he could take with him easily. If only he could stretch out his own laptop screen…

  Yes, he could remember the details behind each and every brainwave he’d ever had, but he couldn’t remember the full name of a single lover before Mallory.

  What exactly did that say about him?

  More than likely, something he did not want to hear.

  He pulled up the research he’d accumulated on Brock Arsenal, hoping he’d feel better in comparison.

  “According to the latest gossip Web sites, he’s not currently seeing anyone,” he said.

  Mallory grabbed a handful of sweetened almonds the hotel had set out on a china dish. “Might mean he’s not in a romantic mood. That certainly won’t help our cause. How does he feel about fans?”

  Ajay did a search using the term fans and the program he’d designed pulled key phrases out of the articles and then displayed the results. Mallory stood in front of the expanded flat screen and read a few out loud.

  “Arsenal claims his longevity in the business is due one hundred percent to his fans. ‘I’d be retired or singing at a Tiki bar for tips if people did not continue to buy my music and come to my concerts. In the beginning, I never understood the power of the fans. Once you get to be an old fart like me, you start appreciating the people in your life—even the ones you don’t personally know.’”

  Ajay nodded. “If he really meant what he said, that could work in our favor. I’d never listened to a single Brock Arsenal song until Bianca and Coop introduced me to him.”

  She looked at him skeptically. “And now you buy all his records?”

  He smirked. “Not exactly.”

  “Let’s leave that part out of our pitch.”

  “Good idea. I think we’ll figure out what to say once we meet him. But that’s the biggest issue. Just because we’re across the hall from him doesn’t mean he’s going to have a party or that he’ll invite us to attend.”

  Mallory pressed her lips together tightly. “Then let’s go back to my original suggestion and have a party ourselves. He can be the guest of honor.”

  He checked the time on his laptop. “You can pull off a party in less than six hours?”

  She shrugged. “Why not? The hotel staff seemed to be tripping over themselves for you downstairs. I’m sure they could plan something in a flash. Just send an e-mail to your employees and tell them to bring dates.”

  “I don’t think a bunch of technology geeks or the women they usually attract are going to catch a rock star’s attention.”

  She returned to the couch. “You’re probably right. But you know, I just provided a translator for a group of French dancers and gymnasts that are performing downtown tonight. It’s one of those circus-type acts, and from what I’ve heard, it’s very sexy.”

  She gestured toward his laptop, which he relinquished with pleasure. She scooted closer to him and typed the name of the troupe into the search engine. Seconds later, pictures of lovely, limber ladies flashed onto the screen.

  “They should work,” he said, trying to stop himself from imagining bending Mallory into similarly provocative poses. Apparently, his expended juices were refilling at lightning speed.

  “Let me make a call.”

  Fifteen minutes later, they had a guest list—a combination of the circus troupe, Ajay’s employees and a few VIP guests registered at the hotel. A quarter hour after that, the hotel’s entire staff of concierges and event planners had thrown together a menu of canapés, bite-size sweets and liquors perfect for a late-night bash. Now all they needed was to lure the guest of honor. For that, Mallory went downstairs and had a one-on-one conversation with the manager.

  She wore her red dress.

  “So we’re all set?” Ajay asked when she returned.

  “Arsenal’s plane lands around ten o’clock, and the hotel expects him half an hour later. The manager will invite him to our little soiree upon his arrival. I left a personal note. Even spritzed it with cologne. But the manager suggested we have things going good by that time. If we’re loud, Brock’ll either join us or call the front desk to have our party shut down.”

  Ajay frowned. There was a flaw in the plan.

  “Did you happen to come up with a reason why we’re having this party?” he asked.

  “I just said we were celebrating a deal between your company and mine. A merger, of sorts,” she said, her voice dipping low as she kicked out of her high heels. “Otherwise, I was sketchy on the details.”

  “Wasn’t exactly a lie,” he said, holding his hand out to her.

  He couldn’t resist. He’d gone way too long without touching her. If he did not take her into his arms very soon, he might lose his mind. He’d never experienced anyone as addicting as Mallory. Trouble was, the sooner they brought Arsenal on board for the reception, the sooner she might leave.

  She slipped her palm into his hand and allowed him to reel her onto his lap. He kissed her deeply and only several moments later did he realize he was attempting to memorize the shape of her mouth, the hollow of her throat, the dip between her breasts.

  “Ajay, we’re going to be late for dinner.”

  “I’m not hungry,” he said.

  “Could have fooled me,” she replied with a chuckle.

  Her eyes flashed with humor as she gave him a gentle push that broadcasted her decision not to give in this time. Had she been this sure of herself this morning? This bold and in control? What about before, when they were merely business associates and shared mutual friends? Had that been the real reason why he’d never pursued her? Because unlike his previous conquests, she actually had the strength and confidence to tell him no?

  “I’m going to change,” she said, sliding off his lap. She paused for a second and her teeth snagged her bottom lip.

  He tensed. Her eyes darkened with what resembled a twinge of sadness before she pasted on a smile and continued, “We can stop downstairs on our way out and make sure everything’s all set. If we’re lucky, we’ll have our project successfully completed by midnight.”

  Without a backward glance this time, she scurried into her room and shut the door.

  Ajay’s corporate success had, from the first day, hinged on the idiom that “necessity was the mother of invention.”
When he needed a device that did not exist, he created it. Right now, he would have given his right hand for a toy that would allow him to read Mallory’s mind.

  Barring that, he’d simply have to find another way to convince her that his past was just that—his past. He wanted her, and not just for the weekend. He could not say how long they would last, he had no experience in that arena. But the thought of not touching her again, not feeling her lips on his skin, not hearing her voice or her throaty laughter tore at his insides.

  He had to convince her that he was worth chancing her heart over—and he had less than five hours to do it.

  7

  DINNER WAS SPECTACULAR. Ajay had pulled out all the stops, starting with a limousine that delivered them to his favorite restaurant, where he fed her oysters on the half shell, a beautiful salad topped with sweet berries and artisan cheeses, and a main course of seared scallops on a bed of crisp vegetables. Since they were serving a smorgasbord of desserts at the party tonight, they opted to end their meal with brandy and lightly sugared madeleine cookies, served on a settee in front of a fireplace in the restaurant’s dark, paneled lounge.

  People mingled all around them, yet Mallory never felt their presence intruding. In fact, as Ajay detailed a hilarious story about him and his twin switching places before an important biology exam, she could imagine they were entirely alone rather than in a popular culinary hotspot. Ajay had been nothing short of attentive, barely giving anyone else in the room a second glance. Gazing into his eyes, she could see no one reflected there but herself.

  “And so we had detention for the rest of the school year and the headmaster decided he needed a foolproof way to tell us apart. My father suggested tattoos.”

  Mallory laughed. “I think the pain factor might have played into his idea.”

  “Most definitely,” he replied, snickering. “Luckily, tattoos weren’t exactly part of the dress code. He opted to shave Raj’s head.”

  “He didn’t!”

  Ajay’s expression was one of utter mirth. “He did.”

  “And you got away scot-free?”

  “Well, the whole mess was Raj’s idea,” he argued. “I was always better in science, which is frightening since he’s now a doctor. But the headmaster was no fool. He ordered me to alter my uniform a bit. Instead of my own starched shirts, I wore a few that had accidentally mixed with a red football sock in the wash.”

  She laughed at the idea of Ajay walking around in a pink shirt in such a serious academic atmosphere. But he seemed to remember the whole situation fondly. He’d told a lot of stories about growing up in London, traveling with his diplomat father, experiencing culture shock when he’d returned to India for prolonged stays with his grandparents.

  Surprisingly, she’d shared just as much, describing her parents’ whirlwind romance in the Philippines just before the American military base closed and how her Irish-Italian father had shocked his relatives back home by marrying a local girl, and opting not to renew his commission in order to run a small hotel on Boracay Beach, where Mallory had honed her language skills on the tourists.

  They’d talked about so many topics—except one.

  “Are you ready to head back?” he asked, slipping his credit card to the waiter who had just appeared with their bill.

  “No,” she answered honestly, leaning back against his shoulder while she sipped her liqueur. “I could stay here forever.”

  “We can come again,” he offered.

  “Tomorrow night is when Leo announces the surprise ceremony to Bianca and Coop,” she pointed out. “And Sunday night is the wedding.”

  “The wedding doesn’t have to be our endgame, Mallory,” he said.

  Her chest clenched. “Doesn’t it?”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  She shifted to the side so she could look into his eyes. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his jade-green gaze sparkling with sincerity.

  “You’ve never had a real relationship, Ajay. And I can’t afford to be hurt again. Can’t we just enjoy the moment? Live for the now? Then go our separate ways after the wedding with no hearts broken?”

  He groaned, but the emotion wasn’t targeted at her, but at himself. “I wish I could say my reputation is exaggerated, but my past doesn’t change that I want to spend more time with you. I admit, up until now I’ve made it a rule to keep my…interactions…with women brief. I can’t even call them relationships. They were just, I don’t know—”

  “Flings?” she provided.

  “Yeah,” he confirmed. “As long as I refused to get serious when it came to my personal life, my family and the match-makers left me alone. No one offered me up to the daughter of their best friend or second cousin, three times removed.”

  “You know, not that I’m judging you, but that’s a pretty pathetic way to avoid commitment.” She downed the last of her brandy and waited while he signed the sales slip.

  “I’ve figured that much out now,” he replied. “Thanks in part to you.”

  Ajay stood and with his hand on the small of her back, guided Mallory through the busy restaurant. She had not noticed how crowded the place had become. For an instant, her equilibrium shifted. Her body temperature suddenly soared and the inside of her throat constricted enough to make breathing difficult. Torn between the instinct to freeze or make a quick dash to the exit, she hesitated until Ajay wrapped his arm protectively around her.

  “We’re only a few feet away from the door. Just focus on me.”

  She nodded and as promised, they were outside in the sultry Florida night before she knew it. He gave her time to inhale the moss-scented air with measured breaths. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him gesture for the limousine. A few minutes later, they were cocooned in the safety of the spacious backseat.

  “Enochlophobia?” he asked.

  Geez, was there anything the man didn’t know?

  He smiled at what must have been her shocked expression. “When I’m not having one-night stands with nameless women, I read a lot.”

  The self-deprecating comment broke the tension that had begun to build when they’d discussed his past. He certainly seemed to always know the exact right thing to do since they’d been together. He’d missed no opportunity to impress her, from hot sex in a decadent bubble bath to strawberries, champagne and oysters. He’d hit every cliché in the great seducer’s handbook, but somehow, each gesture had felt fresh and new—as if he were the first man on Earth to attempt to entice a woman with such care and attention.

  Only, he hadn’t needed to entice her, had he? She’d come to the hotel today not only ready, willing and able, but determined to have him. They’d both succeeded in their missions, and yet, why did she feel so…incomplete?

  “Fearing crowds has to be hard on a woman who’s lived in both Hong Kong and New Delhi,” he said.

  “It didn’t hit me until I started traveling. I grew up in my parents’ hotel, but we were on a small island and we never had more than twenty guests at a time. I was always pretty outgoing. But the minute I ventured out into the world…well, I’ve learned to manage.”

  “Is that why you never went clubbing with Carlo?”

  “That was my excuse, yeah, but I just went to an overflowing restaurant with you and I didn’t even notice until the end of the night.”

  “Must be the company,” he said, winking.

  Her insides fluttered. “Must be. I had a really nice time tonight, Ajay, and I’m looking forward to the rest of the weekend, but you don’t have to change who you are because of me. I’m okay with this just being a fling.”

  He frowned. “What if I’m not?”

  “You’ve been okay with it for every other woman you’ve made love to. Why not me?”

  “Maybe you’ve changed me,” he claimed.

  She laughed, but this only caused him to scowl more deeply.

  “Ajay, I didn’t mean—”

  He cut her off, and she was actually glad. She wasn’t sure what t
o say. He’d seemed utterly at ease with his reputation and mode of living earlier. She couldn’t fathom why it was bothering him now.

  “Yes, you did mean it. The concept of a person changing overnight is absurd. But I can’t lie about what I feel when I’m with you. I’ve never had much of a so-called love life. Love was never an issue. And before you came along, I didn’t take notice.”

  “I didn’t intend to judge you, Ajay.”

  “Didn’t you?” he asked, and his tone held not accusation, but resignation. “You were feeling low about yourself after that idiot dumped you. So who did you pick to get you out of that funk? The guy who’ll screw anyone.”

  She gasped. “That’s disgusting.”

  “But true.”

  “No, it’s not true. You only slept with worldly women, fun women, women who lived the same high-flying lifestyle you did. Women you wouldn’t hurt when you walked away. But your past wasn’t the only reason I was attracted to you. You’re handsome and smart and, yes, sexual. You’re a man who enjoys pleasure. You love life and live to make love.”

  Even she could hear the wistfulness in her voice, the want. Being with Ajay today, casting off her fears and plunging into an affair, had reinvigorated her. If she believed for one moment that she and Ajay could experience this for the long run, she’d grab the chance. But Ajay didn’t do long run—and she wasn’t entirely sure she could, either.

  “I envied that in you,” she confessed. “And yes, I wanted to be a part of it, if only for a weekend. In the process, I’ve learned you’re more than your reputation, and to be honest, I guess I do wish that we could stretch this out beyond the weekend. But I can’t set myself up for disappointment. I’m just getting over being hurt. I can’t take that risk again.”

  He took her hands and placed one light kiss atop each.

  “I wish I could make bigger promises,” he said.

  “I’m just glad you live up to the ones you do make.”

  “Have I promised to see to it that your next orgasm lasts at least a half hour?” he said, grinning. “That’s impossible.”