If You So Desire

by Yahrah St. John

  She was admiring the spectacular view of Central Park from the floor-to-ceiling window when she felt someone’s presence behind her. She spun around on her heel and found Ian Lawrence standing in the buff drying himself off with a towel which barely covered that intimate part of him. Sage couldn’t help but stare and take in every chiseled inch of his six-foot-three frame from his smooth peanut butter complexion to his sensuously full lips and goatee to his well-toned abs and muscular thighs.

  “Ohmigod!” Embarrassed, Sage turned away. She had no idea how breathtakingly splendid he’d be in person. It didn’t help that he was standing behind her without a stitch of clothing on.

  Ian smiled broadly before wrapping the towel around his mid-section. “I’m sure I’m not the first man you’ve seen naked.”

  “Excuse me?” Sage whirled around.

  “You are the masseuse. Are you not?” Ian asked, responding to her haughty expression. “Some people do like to get massaged in their birthday suits.”

  “Do I look like a masseuse?” Sage gestured to her clothing.

  Ian’s brow furrowed together. She didn’t look like a masseuse. Of course he hadn’t really been looking at her attire. He’d been fixated on her beautiful face, which was always his downfall. He loved beautiful things. “Well, if you’re not my masseuse, who the hell are you?”

  “I’m— I’m— I’m Sage Anderson.” Sage walked toward Ian with her hand extended when all of sudden, she felt her chest tighten. Her purse and briefcase dropped with a loud thud to the floor. The all-too-familiar feeling of anxiety and panic overtook her and Sage began wheezing uncontrollably.

  “Are you okay?” Ian rushed toward her.

  Sage gasped several times trying to catch her breath. “I’ll…I’ll be okay, just give me a minute.” She reached for the couch, but couldn’t make it. Ian grabbed her hand and assisted her to the sofa.

  “What can I do?” he asked. Her face had drained of color and she was beginning to sweat. For the first time in a long time, Ian felt utterly helpless.

  Sage clutched her chest as her breathing became more rapid. Why did this have to happen to her now? “My inhaler…”

  “Where is it?”

  “Purse,” Sage managed to eke out.

  Ian rummaged through her purse until he found an asthma inhaler. He quickly brought the inhaler to Sage’s lips and she clutched his muscular arm as she sucked in the medication.

  After several moments passed, Sage slowly released Ian’s arm and lay back against the sofa. Ian breathed a huge sigh of relief when her coloring returned and she began to breathe normally.

  “Thank you,” Sage said. She was so embarrassed. She hadn’t had an asthma attack in a long time. Had the sight of Ian Lawrence’s naked body brought it on? She’d have thought other body parts would have reacted to his virile male presence.

  “No problem,” Ian said, looking down at her. “Just relax.” He leaned over and brushed several tendrils of hair out of her face. Sage Anderson was really quite stunning. She had more natural beauty than any of the models he’d encountered.

  Sage was surprised by Ian’s simple act of kindness. She wouldn’t have suspected that he would be the gentle-giant type. If she let herself, she could get lost in those cobalt eyes and amazingly long lashes, but she couldn’t. She’d come here to convince Ian Lawrence to give her firm his case. She had to regroup and not lose sight of her objective no matter how intensely he was staring at her.

  Once her breathing calmed and she was on an even keel, Ian asked. “So why don’t you tell me why you’re really here, Sage?”

  She didn’t like that he’d so casually used her first name, but what could she do? He’d already gotten her out of a pickle.

  “I came to pitch my law firm, Greenberg, Hanson, Waggoner and Associates,” Sage answered, straightening her back.

  “My assistant Jeffrey handles all of my appointments.”

  “I’m sure he does.” Sage found the strength to rise from the sofa. “But I didn’t have an appointment.”

  “Ah, there’s the rub.” Ian smiled and revealed a set of even white teeth. He watched as she carefully walked over to her briefcase that was lying in the middle of the living-room floor before turning around to face him. She was petite with just the right amount of curves. He enjoyed picking up his women and carrying them off to bed.

  “Aren’t you going to get dressed now?” Sage inquired.

  “Why?” Ian peered at her. “If you’re going to ambush me in my hotel room—” he folded his arms across his broad chest and settled back into the sofa “—you should be prepared for the unexpected.”

  “You want me to give a presentation with you wearing nothing more than a towel?” Ian nodded.

  Just then, a knock sounded at the front door. “Would you mind?” Ian asked Sage.

  Did she look like his servant? Instead of expressing her thoughts aloud, she walked to the door and opened it. It was the masseuse. She followed Sage to the living room with her massage bed tucked underneath her arm.

  “Would you mind giving us a few minutes?” Ian asked the masseuse. He was having such a great time watching Sage squirm, he didn’t want their encounter to end. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d love a cup of tea. I believe there’s some in the butler’s pantry.”

  “No problem, Mr. Lawrence.” The masseuse sat the table down and bowed before leaving the room.

  “Do continue.” Ian waved his hand.

  Sage glared at him before saying, “My law firm can get this lawsuit dropped before it even goes to court.”

  “Other law firms will be telling me the same thing tomorrow morning,” he replied. “What makes you any different?”

  “Greenberg, Hanson, Waggoner and Associates are not as large as some of those firms,” Sage returned. “Which means you’ll get more one-on-one interaction with your attorney and the senior partners.”

  “Oh.” Ian’s brow rose slightly. “One-on-one interaction is exactly what I like, especially if it’s coming from you.”

  Sage colored and was about to respond to his overt flirtation when the door to the suite opened and an attractive gentleman walked into the living room. Although he wasn’t nearly as tall or as built as Ian, he wasn’t bad to look at either.

  Jeffrey glanced first at the beautiful woman in the suit and then at Ian, who looked rather comfortable considering he was bare-chested with a towel wrapped around his middle. “Ian, what’s going on?”

  “Ms. Anderson, here—” Ian nodded to Sage “—was just pitching her law firm to me, a Greenberg…” His voice trailed off as his eyes made contact with her large expressive brown ones.

  “Hanson, Waggoner and Associates,” Sage finished. She rose to her feet. “You must be Jeffrey Smith.”

  “I am,” Jeffrey said. “And if you know who I am, then you also know that we did not have an appointment.”

  Ian watched their interchange and saw a sheepish smile spread across Sage’s face. “I realize that, Mr. Smith, but my firm—” Sage handed him a folder “—is more than capable of representing Mr. Lawrence in this suit and I would love to discuss the opportunity in further detail, once Mr. Lawrence is properly attired, of course.”

  Jeffrey glanced at Ian. “Do you intend on changing, Ian, or are you going to sit there in the buff all day?”

  “I was waiting,” Ian began, “for my masseuse. And here she is.” He nodded to the Asian woman who’d returned from the pantry with a tea set on a tray. “Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I’m going to finally have that massage. Ms. Anderson, Jeffrey.” Ian nodded before retiring to the spare bedroom with the masseuse.

  Once he’d gone, Sage returned her attention back to the subject at hand. “I know our introduction was somewhat unorthodox,” Sage said, “but when I found the suite door open, I walked inside. I really had no idea I’d find Mr. Lawrence indisposed. My business card, Mr. Smith, is inside the folder and has all the particulars. Please do give me a call. We’d love the opportunity to
represent you.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Anderson, for your time.” Jeffrey shook her hand. The woman sure had chutzpah showing up at Ian’s suite unannounced.

  Sage grabbed her briefcase and purse and headed out of the door. Once she made it inside the private elevator, she kicked the interior cab wall. She’d screwed that up royally. What was she going to tell the senior partners?

  After Ian’s hour-long massage, he returned to the living room and found Jeffrey working on his laptop at the desk.

  Jeffrey glanced up. “You’re clothed now,” he commented. Ian was dressed in pressed slacks and a button-down shirt.

  Ian grinned mischievously. “About earlier.” He walked over to the bar, screwed open a bottle of water and sipped liberally. “It was obvious Sage Anderson was completely caught off guard at finding me half-naked. So I thought I’d have a little fun with her.”

  Jeffrey glanced over the top of his glasses. “It didn’t look like that to me.”

  “What do you mean?” Ian asked, sitting on the sofa.

  “C’mon, Ian.” Jeffrey closed the lid of his laptop. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re interested in a woman.”

  “All right, you caught me.” He grinned. He’d found the uptight lawyer not only beautiful but sexy as hell. “She was hot, wasn’t she?”

  “I really wasn’t looking.”

  “How could you not?” Ian inquired, annoyed at Jeffrey’s aloofness. “Anyway, I want you to investigate her and get back to me by tomorrow afternoon.” He was curious about Sage Anderson and wanted to know what made her tick.

  “You sure don’t want much,” Jeffrey replied. It amazed him how Ian snapped his fingers and just expected him to make miracles happen.

  Ian ignored Jeffrey’s tone. “Just get it to me by tomorrow.” If Sage Anderson’s law firm was any good, perhaps he wouldn’t have to go through all those endless interviews over the next couple of days. Maybe he’d already found the right one.

  Chapter 2

  “I’m in such hot water,” Sage announced when she walked into her friend Dante Moore’s tapas bar that evening. The rest of their quasi family, Quentin Davis, his fiancée Avery Roberts, Malik Williams and his girlfriend Peyton Sawyer, were already assembled.

  “Why? What happened?” Quentin asked when she walked over and joined them at the bar for a cocktail.

  Without her having to ask, Dante slid over Sage’s favorite drink, an apple martini, from behind the bar.

  Sage threw down her briefcase on the counter. “Thank you, I needed this.” She took a generous sip. “I volunteered to pitch our firm to multimedia mogul Ian Lawrence.”

  “I’ve heard of him,” Malik replied, rubbing his permanent five-o’clock shadow. “He has one of the most successful black media enterprises around. Is he in some kind of trouble?”

  “I can’t get into it. All I can say is, he’s looking at several law firms in Manhattan, but ours wasn’t one of them.”

  “Is that why you’re in hot water?” Quentin asked. He’d always had a soft spot for Sage. She was like his baby sister and he didn’t like seeing her so distressed. He had been preoccupied of late with his and Avery’s wedding plans and a photo spread he was shooting for Vibe magazine and they hadn’t spent enough time together.

  Sage hung her head low. “No. I volunteered to pitch our firm to Lawrence and it was a bust. How am I going to show my face tomorrow?” She shook her head in disgust. When she’d finally made it back to the office to work on her other cases, the senior partners had thankfully left early for a golf game leaving her blissfully in peace, at least for now. Once they found out what a royal mess she’d made out of her pitch, they might send her packing.

  “Why don’t you take it from the top?” Malik asked, turning toward her. Sage was known to be somewhat of a drama queen. Even when they were little, she’d made a mountain out of a mole hill. The only person who fell for it every time was Quentin.

  Sage rolled her eyes at Malik. “Well, I didn’t have an appointment, so I snuck in his suite only to find him naked in his living room. That’s when out of nowhere I had an asthma attack.”

  Quentin frowned. Sage rarely had attacks anymore unless she was really stressed. “Are you okay?” He grabbed her by the shoulder and stared at her intently.

  “Well, are you?” Dante replied, when she didn’t answer right away.

  Sage nodded and pulled away. “Yes, I’m fine. I guess I just panicked for a minute. Although Ian Lawrence was kind enough to get my inhaler, he made me pitch our firm to him while he sat there wearing nothing but a towel. It was completely embarrassing.”

  “If he likes being in the buff, maybe he’d be interested in posing for my art class,” Avery spoke for the first time. Because of her expertise as an art buyer for the Henri Lawrence Gallery in Soho, Malik had asked her to teach an art class at the Harlem Community Center he oversaw.

  Sage glared at Avery, but everyone else chuckled.

  “Were you embarrassed by the fact that you flubbed the pitch or by the fact that you were attracted to him?” Dante inquired. He hadn’t seen that interested glint in Sage’s eye since she was with her ex James Wilson in law school.

  “I wasn’t attracted to him,” Sage huffed. She hated that Dante could read her so well.

  “No?” Quentin asked and peered into her almond-shaped eyes. “Are you sure about that? I can’t even recall the last time you had an asthma attack.”

  “Yeah,” Malik asked, getting in on the razzing. “When was the last time you were out on a date, Sage?”

  “All right, boys.” Peyton jumped in to stop them from ganging up on Sage. “Let the woman speak.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Sage asked. “I work seventy-hour workweeks. Where am I going to find men like you guys in New York anyway?” Dante, Quentin and Malik were not only her family, but good, honest, upstanding men. Plus, they were absolutely gorgeous. Quentin with his Hershey-chocolate good looks and bald head, Malik with his dreads, toffee complexion and five-o’clock shadow and Dante with his clean-cut caramel self and sexy goatee were all fine.

  “You have to make yourself available.” Malik came around the bar and wrapped his arms around Sage’s shoulders. “You can’t be all work all the time. You have to live a little.”

  “Look who’s talking.” Sage could remember a time when Malik was all work and no play. The community centers he oversaw had been Malik’s whole life. That was until he met Peyton, a professor at NYU, last year. “Besides, I am interested in Ian Lawrence in a professional capacity only,” Sage responded.

  “Sure you are, Sage,” Dante replied. “Sure you are.”

  “How’d it go?” Marissa asked, barging into her office the next morning.

  “I flubbed my presentation.”

  Marissa’s nose crinkled into a frown. It was unlike Sage to tank anything. She was a true perfectionist and knew labor law like the back of her hand. “Why? Did something happen?”

  “Yes, something happened,” Sage said, rising from her chair and closing her office door. “I found Ian Lawrence stark-naked in his room.” Sage leaned against the door.

  “You didn’t.” Marissa gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

  “I did. And he made me give my presentation while he wore a towel and a smile.” She’d left that part out when she discussed the meeting with Peter before Marissa arrived.

  “That had to be quite a sight,” Marissa replied. “From the pictures, the man is fine.”

  “Even more so in person.” Sage pushed away from the door and paced the floor. “And I might have gotten through to him if his assistant hadn’t come in and ushered me out.”

  “Perhaps it’s not as bad you think,” Marissa said. “He has a lot of firms to meet. We could still be in the running.”

  “I doubt very seriously that Ian Lawrence will give me or the firm a second thought,” Sage replied.

  Interviews with the prestigious law firms Jeffrey had set up w
ere held in one of the conference rooms of the Four Seasons. Ian and Jeffrey listened for two days as each firm expounded on their achievements and yet Ian wasn’t ready to make a decision. He was happy when lunch drew near and they could adjourn the interview process.

  “Have you found anything on Sage Anderson yet?” Ian asked as he and Jeffrey entered 57, one of Four Seasons’ restaurants. He was anxious to find out more about the attractive lawyer.

  “No, not yet,” Jeffrey replied when the hostess seated them. “Mark should have something shortly.” He kept the shrewd private investigator on retainer whenever he needed a dossier on someone or information of a delicate nature.

  “Well, tell him it’s of the utmost importance,” Ian replied. “I want to know everything about her before the day is out.”

  “What’s your rush?” Jeffrey replied, accepting the menu from the maître d’.

  “I’m just curious.”

  Jeffrey doubted that was the real reason but remained mum. When his BlackBerry vibrated in his pocket, he answered. “Hello. Okay, thank you for the heads-up.”

  Ian looked at Jeffrey. “What’s going on?”

  “You have bigger fish to fry, my friend.” He’d just been informed that Ian’s ex-girlfriend Lisa Randall had arrived at the Four Seasons and demanded to be taken up to his suite. The hotel clerk had called Jeffrey to give him a heads-up. Ian was not going to be pleased. “Lisa’s in your suite.”

  “What?” Ian’s voice rose. “What the hell is she doing here? And how did she know where I was?”

  Jeffrey shrugged. “You would know better than I.”

  “How would I know?” Ian replied. “I haven’t heard a word from her in two months.”