Any Man I Want

by Michele Grant

  “Is that a Godfather impersonation, bruh? If so, it was pitiful,” Carter drawled.

  “Is that your hand on my baby sister’s thigh, bruh? If so, it is disturbing,” Beau returned.

  “What’s that about?” Roman frowned, squinting into the monitor.

  “Boys, can we focus?” Jewel intervened, sending both Beau and Roman a stern look.

  “Thank you, Jewellen,” I piped up. “What’s the next step?”

  Danila suggested, “I think we should send something out to all our clients. Get some preventative statement in front of them, especially since it looks like Kevin is going after them one by one to see if any has a grudge. And then we need to start leaking Kevin’s dirt to the media. Let’s make him the story.”

  “That sounds solid.” Carter tipped his head in admiration.

  “We need you back stateside by Saturday,” Beau announced.

  “What’s on Saturday?” I asked.

  Beau and Belle exchanged sappy grins. “We’re eloping to Vegas.”

  “What?” we all exclaimed.

  “The wedding kept getting bigger and we kept shifting the dates and really—it was too much. We’re just going to gather up immediate family, some of the BellaRich staff, and let the Bellagio do the work.” Belle said.

  Roman smirked. “Have you told Madere and Pops yet?”

  “Actually, with all the upset over Katrina’s troubles . . .” Beau began.

  “Oh no.” Carter shook his head. “Don’t even try it, pretty boy. You are not using this to get out of telling Madere that you are depriving her of a big church wedding.”

  Jewel chuckled, “Man up, Beauregard.”

  Beau sat back with a sigh. “Fine. Belle and I will call them in a second. Check your e-mails for details on the wedding this afternoon.”

  “Looking forward to it.” I beamed. “God knows I’m ready for another sister. Even-up the odds at the family gatherings.”

  “Indeed.” Jewel nodded.

  “Whatever.” Roman cut eyes at me and Jewel. “Anyway, do you all need anything down there or are you good?”

  Yazlyn choked on her cup of coffee. “I doubt there is anything we can do for them to improve their current circumstances. I mean—look at her, look at him, look at where they are!”

  “Hate is so unbecoming on you, Yaz,” I said, preening. “If you need us, you know how to find us.” I reached out and slammed the lid of the laptop shut.

  “So . . .” Carter started in a silky voice.

  “So . . .” I purred in answer.

  “Do we . . . need anything?”

  “I think we’re good right here.” I put my hand atop his on my thigh and threaded my fingers through his.

  “I do believe you’re right.” He leaned in a little closer.

  “We can still hear y’all!” Belle’s voice boomed out from the laptop speakers.

  “Yeah, if you’re gonna get it on at least let us have video to go with the audio,” Yaz implored teasingly.

  “And that’s enough of that,” Roman’s voice snapped out before the musical tone indicating that the conference had terminated sounded.

  I laughed shortly. “Anyway . . . blue skies, great climate, excellent company. What more could a girl want?”

  We smiled into each other’s eyes.

  “You still have work to do today?” I asked him.

  “I could, but I don’t have to. You?”

  “Ditto. We should do something,” I murmured.

  He took another sip of his water and I watched the muscles in his throat convulse as he swallowed. My eyes fell to his torso and I sat, mesmerized, watching his chest rise and fall slowly as he breathed. A vein at the side of his neck pulsed and I observed it all with fascination. I wanted to know how every single thing, inside and out, of Carter Evan Parks worked. I noticed his lips moving and realized he was talking to me.

  “I’m sorry, what?” I asked breathlessly, licking my lips in sudden thirst.

  “I asked, Katrina, if you had something specific in mind that you wanted to do. Right now.” His lips curved upward in an indulgent smile.

  I smiled back and met his eyes: They kind of glowed. Was this the first time I’d ever looked Carter in his eyes and paid attention? I remembered he was waiting on an answer. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

  “What?” He squeezed my hand.

  “Beg pardon?” I was so unfocused and distracted. It was like Carter was a shiny new puzzle I had to possess and solve immediately. I couldn’t recall feeling quite like this before. Did he feel this way? Where had it come from? Where would it lead? Oh shut up, Katrina! I scolded myself and tried to stay present in the moment.

  “What do you want to do, princess?” he asked softly.

  Besides jump your bones until we both scream for mercy? I blinked the thought away, but not before he saw it in my eyes. The air around us went up about ten degrees. I blinked again. “Let’s go swimming.”

  He blinked twice and then stood up, pulling me with him. “That’s one way to get wet.”

  My jaw dropped. “Did you just say—”

  A bad-boy grin spread across his face. He raised my hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles. “I’ll see you by the pool in ten. I don’t suppose you still have that pink bikini, do you?”

  Giggling, I shook my head. “That’s long gone. Something similar, though.”

  “Surprise me,” he challenged, dropping my hand and backing away.

  “I’ll see if I can find a l’il sumthin’-sumthin’ to impress.”

  “You impress just by breathing, diva. Just by breathing.” With a lingering look, he turned and headed to his room.

  Whew! I braced myself on the table and took a few deep breaths. That was a whole lotta grown and sexy man right there. Contrary to what I had thought, he wasn’t just a cute guy who used to play football and dabbled in real estate. He was a serious businessman; he had plans and dreams and aspirations that I wanted to hear all about. He wasn’t the lightweight superficial men I was used to dealing with. He was grounded and not to be played with. He knew how to say the right things and send the right looks and I, the woman who never had to work for a man in her life? Had to step my game up.

  7

  Sex is easy; it’s the rest that gets twisted

  Carter—Tuesday, May 24—noon

  Swimming lap after lap in the refreshing blue water of the pool accomplished a few things: I got in some exercise for the day; it helped me burn off some of the tension and cooled me down after that exchange with Katrina. I wanted to take things slow between us, but she seemed determined to go to full boil right away. Katrina was a beautiful woman with an engaging spirit and I had been “in like” with her for a long time. There was only so much a man could resist. A rustling sound near the shallow end caught my attention and I stopped to stand up in the middle of the pool and take a look. And then I did a double take and made sure my tongue was not hanging out. Katrina was prowling (yeah, I do mean prowling) toward the pool wearing a barely-there white bikini held together by tiny silver chains and a sheer flowing thing over it with four-inch high sandals with crystals sparking on them. Very little was left to my very vivid imagination. It should’ve been illegal for anyone to look that good ever in the history of womankind.

  “Woman, you are going to be the death of me,” I muttered and started toward the steps.

  She sent me a sultry smile and slid the cover up off her shoulders before tossing it to the side. The sun shone on her bronzed skin, highlighting every gorgeous feature and curve. She rested her hands on hips and held the pose. This was not my Kit-Kat. This was the model that had adorned many a magazine page and for good reason. “We wouldn’t want that. I prefer you alive and breathing.”

  “Funny, I prefer me that way as well.”

  “How’s the water feel?” She squatted down and ran her fingers through the water slowly.

  I wanted some sort of award for my restraint in the face of overwhelming temptation. “Come on in a
nd find out for yourself.”

  She stood, kicked off her heels, and twisted her hair up. “I do believe I will, Mr. Sexy.” With innate grace, she strode to the deep end of the pool and executed a perfect dive into the water. A few underwater breaststrokes later and she emerged next to me with a huge grin on her face. “I love the water, it feels awesome.” She leaned back and floated in circles around me.

  I grinned back at her. “You’re a water baby. I did not know that.”

  “I adore water. You don’t know everything about me, Carter Parks.”

  “No; no, I don’t. But I’m aiming to find out. I’ll tell you one other thing. . . .” I scanned her form.

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m learning a helluva lot more with that bikini you are halfway wearing. Did you know it’s see-through when it gets wet?”

  Her grin turned salacious. “Is that right?”

  I shook my head, reached out, grabbed her around the waist, pulled her upright and up against me. “So you waltzed your fine ass out here in four see-through pieces of material and swam right up to me, huh?”

  “Yeah, I did.” She wrapped her arms and legs around me. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

  “Woman, you are really asking for it,” I warned.

  “Why, yes I am. Are you going to give it to me?”

  “Ha!” I barked out a laugh and turned with her in my arms. I pressed her against the side of the pool and leaned in. I nuzzled her neck and bit lightly on her earlobe before whispering in her ear. “You’re not going to move me anywhere I don’t want to go, princess. Hot as you are, smart as you are, you don’t have to give me the hard sell, babe. I’m already on the hook.”

  “Then take a bite already!” She squirmed up against me.

  “When we’re ready,” I said through gritted teeth while holding her hips still.

  She rolled her pelvis once more. “I think we’re both ready.”

  “And that’s your problem, princess.” She was too used to getting her own way. Probably every guy she dated got wrapped up in her looks and her body and didn’t look any deeper. I wasn’t that guy. I wasn’t going to be the guy who hit, quit, claimed the trophy, and moved on.

  “What’s my problem?” She quirked a brow.

  “You’re thinking below the waist instead of above the neck. What’s wrong taking our time? There’s a lot at risk here. We’ve been friends for years. Your brother is my best friend. I spend half my holidays with your parents. My grandfather fishes with your dad. If we implode and things get ugly, the fallout will be uncomfortable for so many people we care about. Is it really that big of an issue if we take it slow and get a little more comfortable with each other?”

  Her eyes were wide. “Good God, you are serious! This is really happening? After years of dancing around each other, I’m offering myself up on a platter and you want to get to know me better? Really? You sound like a girl.” She sulked.

  I slid my hands from the indentation of her waist down to her rear and pressed against her once more. “Do I feel like a girl?”

  She exhaled shakily. “You most definitely do not feel like a girl.”

  “All right, then. You already know when we do this it’s going to be thermonuclear. We don’t have to rush it. We can take our time. Sex is easy; it’s the rest that gets twisted.”

  She unwound herself from around me with a dramatic sigh. “Let’s race. Two laps lengthwise. I win, we do the easy stuff. You win, we do it your way.”

  “You’re thinking I forgot you were on the swim team in high school?”

  “You were a professional athlete; doesn’t that give you an edge?”

  “Katrina, everything’s not a competition. We do this my way or we don’t do it. We can race, but we do it for fun.”

  She squinted at me. “I don’t recall ever working this hard to get laid before.”

  “Maybe ’cuz I want to be more than a lay to you.”

  “You’re a different kind of guy.”

  “I keep telling you that.”

  “I’m starting to believe you. So what do we race for?”

  “Scrabble or Monopoly tonight,” I said. We had a history of wickedly competitive marathon board game sessions in the past.

  “You suck at Scrabble,” she teased.

  “You suck at Monopoly,” I parried.

  “Let’s get it on,” she challenged.

  “Prepare to get your ass kicked, Cajun Kat.”

  “Bring in on, Big Sexy.”

  8

  A fancy gun with shiny bullets

  Katrina—Friday, May 27—6:23 pm

  You know how people say that someone is driving them crazy and you nod sympathetically even though you know—absolutely know—that they are not being steered toward insanity by another person? Yeah, this was different. I firmly believed that messing with Carter Parks would have me seeking therapy before long. We had spent the rest of the week in Punta Cana getting to know each other. Or rather, he got to know me and I struggled to keep up.

  I could not figure him out. He engaged in deep conversation, he snuggled while watching TV, he took my hand for long walks down the beach. Who was this guy? I had it on good authority that Big Sexy was a player... no pun intended. Not just a ballplayer but a relationship player. He was known as a guy who landed, but didn’t stick; someone who made no promises, enjoyed himself, made sure a woman enjoyed herself, and was onto the next. In all the time I’d known him, he never had the same woman on his arm twice and never for any lengthy period of time. So I didn’t think I was that off-base to think that Carter and I could scratch an itch for each other and go back to being friends. Carter Parks, professional itch-scratcher. That’s what I thought I signed up for.

  I saw no evidence of that man this past week. This was a man who asked me questions so probing that I had to ask, stop, and think about what I believed and dreamed before answering. This was a man who was not afraid of challenging me, didn’t mind pampering me, but did not allow me to get away with anything less than a genuine response or reaction.

  I was intrigued and aroused every moment I was in his company. He saw too much. It was the most uncomfortable feeling ever. When we were ironing-out accommodations for this weekend in Vegas I almost opted to stay in a room by myself on the other wing of the hotel. Just so I could get some space and perspective. This was the first time in recent memory I was shying away from a relationship because I felt out of my depth. Usually I fled because I was bored or felt smothered or used. But this was an entirely new situation. Only the knowing, smug glint in his eyes as he waited for me to agree to share a suite with him or sleep on the other side of Bellagio kept me from fleeing. He might have had me second-guessing myself, but I didn’t have to advertise it.

  We’d landed in Las Vegas a few hours ago and I was never so glad for the company of my family and friends. My mother had brought me a suitcase full of fresh clothes and I gratefully had her meet me in the suite. I needed the buffer. Alanna Montgomery, lovingly referred to as Madere, was a tiny, long-haired, cocoa-skinned beauty who brought warmth into every room she entered. When she arrived, I stood back and watched while Carter picked her up and whirled her around. She flung her head back and laughed joyously.

  “How’s the only woman to ever steal my heart doing?” he asked and smacked a noisy kiss on both her cheeks, still holding her aloft. I held back the urge to clear my throat and roll my eyes.

  My sixty-plus-year-old mother giggled like a schoolgirl and took his cheeks in her hands and kissed him back. “If I was twenty years younger, bel homme, you wouldn’t have to ask!”

  Carter kissed her again and hugged her tighter before setting her back on her feet. “If Pops didn’t own so many guns, I’d have to fight him for ya.”

  “You may have to dodge a few bullets yet.” She slid a glance from him to me and back again.

  He held his hands up. “I’ve been a perfect gentleman with his baby girl.”

  “This is true. He has kissed
you more in the last thirty seconds than he has kissed me all week.” Yes, I was a little testy about it.

  Alanna looked slowly between us again and her smile widened. “C’est vrai? How noble of you, Carter. And how very disappointing for you, ma fille.” She turned toward me with arms outstretched.

  “Hi, Mommy.” I was almost a full ten inches taller than my mother, but I still loved being wrapped in her arms. Somehow, getting the hug from Madere brought back all the stress and drama of the week and tears sprang to my ears.

  She pulled back, looked into my face, and patted my hands. “None of that now. You’ve had a long week. Not your best. Name in the papers, face on the television, and for all the wrong reasons. But you’re a Montgomery and we weather storms, yes? Come out stronger on the other side. Consider this a wake-up call.”

  “A wake-up call?” What did she mean?

  “Not every pretty man with a fat bank account and a bucket of degrees is worth your time, bébé.”

  I slammed my hands on my hips and scowled down at her. “I break up with a guy and he decides to make up lies about me and it’s my fault?”

  “Shouldn’t have been with him in the first place. You give an imbécile a fancy gun with shiny bullets and you’re surprised when you get shot?” she asked matter-of-factly and gave a classic Madere Gallic shrug. Carter choked back a laugh and disappeared into his room on the far side of the suite. The door closed behind him with a decisive click.

  “Am I the gun or the bullets, Mom?”

  “Don’t get smart with me, Katrina. Own up to your lack of judgment and let’s talk about what’s going on with you and Carter.” She turned toward the other bedroom in the suite. “Separate rooms, eh? That boy’s no fool.”

  I sighed, picked up the suitcase, and followed her into my room. I kicked the door shut behind me and collapsed onto the bed. Madere sat down beside me and stroked my hair. “I’m tired, Madere.”

  “Chile, you been sunnin’ and surfin’ for a week, whatchu tired from?”