Irresistible?

by Stephanie Bond

  “‘Bye, Cinderella,” Manny said to Ellie before she stepped into the back seat. “Have a good time at the party. But remember to take your pills or you’ll turn into my cousin Betty at midnight.”

  ELLIE HAD TRIED to visualize Mark’s house, but two blocks away from his address, she realized his home would surpass all her expectations. The cabbie pulled up to a two-story, taupe-colored stucco house with elaborate arches and pale cornerstones. The sloping yard was a paradise, the lawn all but completely sacrificed to tall trees, enormous mulch beds and lush leafy plants. Mounds of blooms flowed downhill. A fountain of stacked stone bubbled a stream of water, which fed an aquamarine goldfish pond. Ellie had never seen a more beautiful sight.

  “Are you sure this is the place?” she breathed.

  “Sure as shootin’.” The driver nodded. “Nice spread, eh? Friend of yours?”

  “Yes,” she said absently, unable to take her eyes from the house.

  “Some guys have all the luck,” he said dismally. “But if you get bored with Richie Rich, my name’s Cal, and I get off at ten.” He swung out of the cab and opened her door before she had a chance to respond.

  The front door of the house opened. Mark came out and descended the steps to the walkway. He wore dark slacks, a crisp off-white shirt and a mustard-colored tie. He looked absolutely devastating. Ellie alighted from the cab and smiled toward him. She could detect the clean scent of his cologne as he neared her. Esmerelda struggled for release to inspect the fish, but Ellie held on tight. “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi.” He smiled, and held his hands at his sides, swinging them slightly as if not knowing what to do next.

  “Nice house.”

  “Thanks. Nice dress.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Nice bill,” the cabbie spoke up, motioning to Mark.

  Mark reached for his wallet and counted off several bills, folded them, then handed them to the man.

  The cabbie thanked him and opened the trunk. Mark’s eyebrows shot up. “What’s all this?”

  Ellie stepped to the back of the car. “Esmerelda’s things.”

  Mark passed a hand over his face. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “No,” Ellie said, pointing. “Her bed, litter box, kitty litter, food bowl, water bowl, food, brush, play gym, scratch pole, toys, videos—”

  “Videos?”

  “Sure—one shows birds flying around, the other is of fish swimming and splashing. They keep her entertained for hours.”

  Mark nodded and pursed his lips. “I see.”

  The cabbie started pulling things out and setting them on the sidewalk.

  “I wrote down her schedule for you.” Ellie pulled a sheet of paper from her tiny evening bag. “She’s got a bladder infection right now, so you’ll need to give her medication once a day.” She looked up and recognized impatience on Mark’s face. Suddenly he sneezed violently. “We can go over this later,” she said with a weak smile, refolding the sheet.

  While Mark made several trips to bring in the cat’s accessories, Ellie stood in the two-story slate foyer of his home and stretched her neck to see as much as possible from her vantage point. The open layout and cool colors stole her breath. A large living room stretched to her left, an expansive dining room to her right. His furniture was fairly traditional in design, but light fabrics and colors lifted and extended the rooms.

  “Wow,” Ellie said out loud. If she hadn’t been sure before that she and Mark Blackwell existed in different worlds, she was convinced now.

  Esmerelda yowled and jumped from Ellie’s arms, bounding up the stairs. “Esmerelda!” she yelled, then took off after her.

  When Mark entered the house with the last armload, he found the foyer empty. “Ellie,” he called, setting the things down on the stairs. He sneezed, and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to blow his nose. “This is unbelievable,” he muttered. “Why did I agree to this?” An implausible answer skated across his mind, but he dismissed it.

  When she didn’t respond, he walked around the first floor, thinking she might have gone to the bathroom. When he found the door to the downstairs bath ajar, however, he assumed she’d gone upstairs to look around. One of the things that had impressed him the most when she’d asked about his home was that she’d seemed much more interested in his yard than in the grandeur of the house. Mark felt a slight pang of disappointment that she’d been so anxious to check out his digs that she’d helped herself to a tour.

  He climbed the stairs, calling her name as he walked room to room. He heard a muffled sound coming from his bedroom and frowned. Not that he hadn’t entertained ideas of Ellie seeing the inside of his bedroom, but her forwardness annoyed him slightly.

  When he entered his bedroom, he covered his mouth to smother a chuckle, then decided she couldn’t hear him, so he laughed out loud, anyway. Ellie Sutherland’s very fine-looking rear end stuck straight up in the air, the points of her high heels following suit. He’d pictured her in his bed many times, but never under it. Her head and shoulders were hidden beneath the dust ruffle of his black bed, and she seemed to be saying something, he surmised, to the cat.

  After enjoying a full minute of the detectable view, he spoke loudly. “Ellie?”

  She raised her head quickly and he heard bone collide with metal. “Darnit!” she yelled, her voice still muffled by all the fabric surrounding her.

  Mark laughed again, this time more quietly.

  She inched her way backward, out from under the bed, and Mark felt his groin tighten as her hips tested the strength of the dress’s seams. He couldn’t remember when he’d ever found a woman more appealing than at that very moment.

  Her head appeared, her hair wonderfully mussed. She dragged her fingers through it and stood awkwardly, brushing the front of her dress. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Esmerelda jumped out of my arms and ran up here and under your bed. I didn’t mean to snoop.” She chewed on her bottom lip, her glorious blue eyes wide with worry. “I think she’s scared.”

  Her beauty slammed into him with enough power to stagger his senses. I think I know how the car feels. “I’ll put her things in the guest room down the hall. Will she come out and look for her bed later?”

  Ellie nodded. “Probably.”

  “Then leave her. How about a drink before we go?”

  Ellie smiled at him and his breath caught. “Can I use your bathroom for some repair work first?”

  “Sure.” He pointed to the master bath. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  Ellie took a few seconds to glance around his bedroom, impressed at the sheer size of the bed. King-size and sleekly modern, the elevated bed reigned over a huge room lit by a bay window encompassing an entire wall.

  She walked into the spacious bathroom and flipped on the light. “Mmm,” she murmured, taking in the tiled floor and large sunken tub. Gold fixtures winked at her from the long double vanity and porcelain sinks. The fragrance of his aftershave lingered. A razor drained on a folded hand towel. Frosted doors encased a shower large enough for a quartet. She could picture Mark showering, soap running down his slick body. She bit her bottom lip and shook her head at the image, then turned to fix her hair.

  She gasped at her reflection. Besides her explosive hair, the expensive dress he’d bought her was covered with long cat hairs and carpet fibers. And her lipstick smeared down the corner of her mouth. She groaned, opening her purse and spilling its contents across the counter in her haste. Ellie tugged a brush through her hair, yelping when it skated over the lump fast forming from her encounter with the bed rail. Tears of frustration gathered in her eyes.

  “Look at you,” she said miserably. “You’re a nobody going nowhere. What business do you have falling in love with Mark Blackwell?” Gasping at her own words, Ellie covered her mouth with her hand. Taking a shaky deep breath, she straightened her shoulders, and set about making herself presentable again. All the while, she hummed to herself, taking great pains not to talk to the crazy woman in the mi
rror.

  6

  ELLIE FELT SPARKLY from the two rum drinks she’d downed to alleviate her nervousness before they left. Too late, she realized she should have had a nonalcoholic beer with Mark. She could feel her body pulling toward him in the darkness of the car. His cologne, the soothing music, the special dress, all of it combined to make her feel languid and sexy. A shiver of premonition traveled the nape of her neck and she trembled. Trying to shake the feeling, she turned to Mark as they exited the expressway and said, “Any last-minute instructions?”

  Mark looked at her, eyebrows lifted and said, “Such as?”

  Ellie shrugged. “Such as, is there anybody in particular I’m supposed to make dislike me?”

  Mark stared at her for a moment, then quietly said, “No, just be yourself.”

  A pretty scary prospect in itself, she thought. “Will your partners be there?”

  Mark nodded. “Ray Ivan will be the one with the pipe. His wife passed away only a year ago, so I suspect he’ll be alone. The other partners and their wives will be there, and various guests, I suppose.”

  When he maneuvered the sedan into a luxurious neighborhood, Ellie’s shoulders tensed.

  “Hey,” he said, reaching over to cover her hand with his. “Relax. You look wonderful.”

  His touch electrified her hand. Ellie swelled under his praise. “Any woman would in this dress.”

  He pulled the car behind a long string of vehicles in a semidark driveway, then cut the engine. He unfastened his seat belt, turned toward her and leaned forward until his lips were mere inches from her face. “Not true,” he said, then dipped his head to sweep a quick kiss on her jawbone. “Trust me.” His voice reverberated in her ear, flaming her senses. Ellie swallowed hard at the rush of desire flooding her body.

  Mark looked into her eyes. “We were rudely interrupted last weekend outside your door,” he whispered.

  Ellie tried to smile. “Oh, that M-Manny. He’s always looking out f-for me.”

  He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”

  Terrified. “N-no, of course not. That’s not what I meant—”

  He silenced her words with his mouth, his lips hungrily descending upon hers. Her throat constricted for want of much-needed moisture and oxygen, then she finally remembered to breathe. His tongue parlayed hers in a sensual battle she gladly forfeited. He twined his hands firmly around her waist, she lifted her arms to his neck and wrested sideways to deepen the embrace.

  Something restrained her, prevented her from meeting him fully. She reached down to fumble with the seat belt and it snapped loose, tangling in his arms, then hers as they struggled to free themselves. Gasping for breath, they dived at each other again. This time Mark lifted her, putting his hands beneath her hips to pull her up and against his chest. She could sense his mounting frustration at the awkward angle. Suddenly he pulled her over the low console to straddle his lap. Her hair brushed the ceiling of the car and the steering wheel pressed into her back as she settled around his arousal, her dress hiked up to expose the garter belt she wore. Somewhere along the way she’d lost her shoes, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was Mark Blackwell touching her, wanting her.

  Mark thought he might climax on the spot when his hands discovered the snaps of her garter belt. This woman was killing him. “Ellie,” he whispered against her neck. She arched her breasts against his chin and he buried his face in her cleavage. She rained kisses over his forehead as she wrapped her arms around his head to pull him closer. He bit lightly at her hardened nipples through the fabric of her dress and bra. His hands rode her waist, pushing her down on his arousal. The blood pounded in his brain as it exited, rushing to his midsection. Her breathing rasped as ragged as his as she moaned her pleasure.

  “Hey!” a voice shouted outside the window. Mark jerked his head up and panic seized him. One glance confirmed his worst fear. Ray Ivan stood there, crouched and peering into the window. “Blackwell? Is that you? Get a room, son!” Then his partner turned and walked toward their host’s home.

  They were still for a few seconds as the realization of their indiscretion sunk in. Mark laid his head back and groaned. His arousal wilted. He opened his eyes and looked into Ellie’s, wide with concern.

  “That was bad, wasn’t it?” she asked, biting her lip.

  Mark stared at her for a few seconds, then burst out laughing at the incongruity of the situation. And the more he laughed, the harder he laughed. Soon, Ellie joined him as she climbed from his lap and fell into her own seat.

  Slapping her knee, Ellie laughed and laughed, until she realized Mark had fallen silent. Looking at his suddenly somber profile, she emitted a final, weak giggle, then cleared her throat.

  “What is it about you?” he asked, still staring straight ahead. His rumpled hair and slack mouth were in startling contrast to his dressy attire and normally regal bearing.

  Uneasiness crept over Ellie as she fished for her shoes under the seat. “What do you mean?”

  He looked over at her with an exasperated expression. “I mean, you drive me to do crazy things like make out in the front seat of my car at a business dinner!”

  Anger flashed through Ellie and she pointed her index finger at him. “I didn’t exactly fly over there and land on your lap, buster!”

  He turned back to stare ahead, then raised his hands in a questioning gesture. “I’m a normal, red-blooded guy, but I’ve never done anything this stupid before.” He spoke quietly, as if to himself, his hands animated. “After all these years of busting my butt and keeping my nose clean, my partner now thinks I’m Mr. Happy Pants.”

  Ellie sat up, and snapped open her purse to retrieve a comb. The pheromone pills fell into her lap, and she froze. She straightened her dress and asked, “Are we still going in?”

  “If you’re up to it, I am. I’m sorry I put you in this situation—”

  “It’s all right, Mark,” Ellie assured him guiltily. If not for those magic pills of hers, the whole incident would never have happened. “Let’s just make the best of it.”

  “You’re right,” he said, adjusting his tie. “It’ll look worse if we don’t go in. Thanks for being a sport.”

  They spent a few minutes righting their clothes, then stepped out into the cool early-June night air. Ellie took several deep breaths to clear her head, and took the arm he offered her to walk up the steps.

  Mark rang the doorbell, then smiled at her as they waited. “I’ll have to admit,” he said, turning back to stare straight ahead, “the garter belt was a nice surprise.” He rocked back on his heels casually, confident.

  Ellie couldn’t resist knocking him off balance again. “Then I can’t imagine what you would’ve thought of my tattoo.” The look on his face was priceless as the front door swung open and a man who identified himself as Patrick pulled her into his home with a friendly handshake.

  It appeared they were among the last of about seventy-five to arrive. Cocktails and finger food circulated the room. Laughter and spirited conversation buzzed around them.

  “Ellie?” A familiar female voice spoke behind her, and Ellie turned to see her former boss, Joan Wright, walking toward her.

  “Joan,” Ellie said, delighted, stepping forward to hug the woman.

  “How wonderful to see you!” the older woman said. “What brings you to the Beechams’?”

  “I do,” Mark said, stepping in to introduce himself.

  Joan shot an amused glance at Ellie, then said, “Ah, you must be the new partner.” She shook his hand, then frowned slightly. “Is something wrong with your forehead?”

  Ellie’s eyes and Mark’s hand traveled upward. Lipstick kisses dotted his hairline. She made a frantic wiping motion with her hand, then turned to draw Joan into a conversation about the arts center.

  “And the commission is going welt?” Joan’s eyes asked more questions than her lips.

  Ellie nodded. “The preliminary work on the painting is d
one. I hope to get down to business tomorrow.”

  “I’ll let you ladies talk,” Mark said, inclining his just-cleaned head. “Excuse me.” Ellie felt a curious sense of loss as he walked away. Dam, she was getting much too used to having this man around.

  “Hi.”

  Ellie turned to see Mark’s secretary, Monica, standing next to her and Joan. Ellie made the introductions.

  “So,” Monica said, her tone silky with innuendo, “how’s it going with you and Mark?”

  “Oh, we’re just friends,” Ellie assured her.

  “Mark is quite a catch,” she said.

  Ellie smiled. “I’m not fishing,” she said, then steered the conversation in a safer direction. “Joan, I thought you and Manny were going someplace tonight.”

  Joan’s eyes twinkled mischievously, then she moved her head slightly to indicate someone across the room.

  Ellie turned to look and nearly swallowed her tongue. Manny, looking feminine and elegant in a brunette wig and long navy dress, stood chatting with none other than Ray Ivan, senior partner. He glanced up and caught her eye, then gave her a tiny shrug of bewilderment. She beckoned him frantically, but even as Manny tried to break away, Ivan followed him with a hand at his elbow. A finger of fear nudged Ellie’s stomach.

  While Ray and Joan exchanged greetings, Ellie pulled Manny down and whispered furiously, “What are you doing here dressed like that?”

  He grinned. “I look fabulous, don’t I?”

  “Manny!”

  He pouted prettily. “Relax, would you? It’s a joke—Joan thought it would be hilarious to crash a stuffy gig. I had no idea it was the same party you were going to.” He grinned and lowered his voice. “I love fooling the straight ones, and I think this Ivan guy is loaded.”

  “He’s Mark’s partner, you idiot!”

  Manny looked hurt. “But he likes me.”

  “He likes Molly,” she said, using his stage name. “There’s a big difference.”

  “Joan and I are splitting in a few minutes, anyway.”

  “Don’t do anything foolish—Ray just caught us practically naked in the car. Mark is worried to death.”