by Donna Hill
A man like Maleek Trenton had women flocking to him in droves; she didn’t want him to think she was another to be added to the list.
And she didn’t want to be either.
He was the epitome of everything she had carefully avoided since her scandalous divorce. His good looks coupled with fame and celebrity was a mix for disaster for any woman in his life. And Love had heard the rumors and seen the headlines. She thought about how his date with Gigi broadcasted over E! News just last night.
No. Her body was naturally responding to an attractive man, but her days in the spotlight because of whom she dated or married were so over. So over.
You’re acting like he’s interested, Love, she chastised herself, even as her pulse continued to race and a cloud of awareness surrounded her body like a warm blanket on a cold winter night.
Maleek felt like a fool.
When he strolled in the renovated Tribeca warehouse offices of Lovely Event, he thought he would breeze in, flash his dimples, and get Ms. Nylah Lovely to change her mind. Just like that. He would lock in an event planner and irk his sister all at once. No biggie.
He never thought the first sight of the slender beauty would hit him like a sledgehammer. Behind his shades, his eyes had not missed one single detail about her. From her sophisticated air, with her hair twisted up loosely, exposing her long neck, to her proper outfit that was just short of high society by the lack of pearls. And then there was the way that skirt and seemingly innocent white shirt were so well tailored to her curves, in addition to her shoes, with heels that seemed so high she would topple. It was an odd mix of sophistication and sass that led to a level of sexy most women could not comprehend.
And then there were other things he noticed in just a few fleeting seconds.
Her expressive eyes.
A mouth made to be kissed.
The type of quiet beauty that was not seeking attention—but received it, nonetheless.
And so her eyes and her mouth and the way her shirt clung lightly to the curve of her breasts had him wanting her to reconsider with an intensity he felt only on the courts. He wanted her to want to do this for him. With him.
The more she formed her luscious lips to say no, the more he yearned to have them say yes. When he told her he wanted her, it was not about the event he was speaking of. He did want her. He wanted to loosen her hair, pull her proper shirt apart, and hitch her knee-length pencil skirt up to her hips to expose her body to his eyes. His hands. His mouth.
Forgettable?
Never.
He couldn’t explain it or even define it; he felt a loss at the thought that these could be the last moments he spent in her presence. She was calming. She was classy. She was composed. She was comforting.
And all without trying.
“I will triple your fee,” he said, still not believing how the tables had turned on him or how he was not fighting it one bit.
“I am not one to do things just for the money, Mr. Trenton,” she told him.
Maleek didn’t miss the way she pressed her hand to her throat. Even that subtle move stirred movement behind his zipper. “How about for charity?” he asked.
Love paused, arching a brow as she looked at him in question across the wide expanse of her desk.
The look made his pulse beat hard.
Maleek sat up on the edge of the seat. “I will triple your fee, but a third will be donated to a charity of your choosing,” he said. “Now, I’m not saying it has to be my own foundation that fights illiteracy and helps kids discover the arts—”
Love started in surprise. “The arts and illiteracy? I would think an athlete would have his focus on different endeavors.”
Maleek nodded his head. “Every child who dreams like I did to be a professional athlete won’t fulfill that ambition. It’s just reality. We have to encourage children to have other dreams. To have another focus. Musicians, poets, writers, teachers, doctors. All of it is important.”
Love was impressed. He could tell from the look in her clear eyes. He’d bet there wasn’t much of her emotions that didn’t show in her eyes.
She pressed her gaping mouth closed as she opened the large leather planner on her desk. “Uhm, like I was saying . . . I’m, uhm . . . not easily moved by money, so I will do the event for twice my normal rate . . .”
Money makes the world go around, he thought, unable to keep the smugness from filling his face.
“With one half going to a charity,” she added, looking up from her planner.
He quickly made his face expressionless.
Love’s eyebrow arched just a millimeter. “So I am in fact working for my regular fee, but of course, Love loves the kids,” she joked softly, picking up a pen. “Again, I am booked on the date you originally wanted, but is the . . . last weekend in August good for you?”
Maleek’s eyes dropped to her mouth as the words “good for you” seemed to echo inside his head.
“Mr. Trenton, is the last weekend in August good for you?” she repeated.
Wiping his hand over his mouth, Maleek nodded. “That’s perfect,” he said. He didn’t know if he was more surprised that she turned down the offer for extra money or that this subtly sexy woman had him thrown off kilter so quickly . . . without even trying.
“It’ll be nice to plan another event with Ayannah,” Love said with a smile that filled her eyes.
Maleek’s gut clenched. “Actually, I’ll be handling this, so you’ll be working with me,” he said, again surprising himself and going completely against his own plans.
Love looked surprised. “Of course. My apologies. We have a lot to do in a short amount of time, but luckily I have some great vendor relationships and that will help a lot.”
Maleek’s eyes fell to her left hand. Her ring finger was free of a ring. His eyes darted to her desk. The photos there were of her and a group of ladies. No man or any children in sight.
“Unfortunately, I do have another appointment today,” she said, rising to her feet.
Maleek felt a deep pang of disappointment that his time in her presence was coming to an end.
Knock, knock.
They both turned as her office door suddenly opened and the room filled with three men. Maleek closed his eyes and shook his head at the sight of his three childhood friends.
Love’s assistant pushed through them. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Lovely,” she stammered. “I asked them to please wait.”
They all began speaking at once as Faryn attempted to push the men back out the door.
It was a scene out of a bad comedy. He looked over his shoulder, and the look of shock on Love’s face pushed him into action. He stepped forward. “Hey, hey, man. Y’all chill out. I’ll be right out—”
“Excuse me,” Love said in a voice filled with reprimand.
Everyone stopped and turned to look over their shoulder as she came around the desk like a teacher about to scold pupils.
“This is a business. My business. Respect that and yourselves,” she said, walking up to them slowly as she eyed each one. “You are in public. And regardless of what anyone tells you, gentlemen, there is a time and a place for everything, and I can promise you that this is not the time nor the place for this type of immature foolishness. You are grown-ass men.”
As he watched her calmly but efficiently chastise his friends without even raising her voice and her eyes gleaming with fire, Maleek wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her.
“Now, Faryn, you can go back to work, please, because these grown men are going to remember where they are and how they should act—even if they’re pretending—and quietly leave my establishment so that we can continue to conduct our workday in peace. Have a good day, gentlemen.” She walked to the door and touched the doorknob with a stiff smile.
Maleek sneaked a “kill it” motion with his hands across his neck for good measure.
Soon his friends were gone and Faryn pulled the door closed behind her with another apologetic look at
her boss.
“I apologize, my friends only get to see me once a year, really, and we had plans for today,” he began, walking up to stand before her.
Love sidestepped him and wrapped her hand around the door knob. “Mr. Trenton, are you sure you have the time available to take on such a large event?” she asked, sounding doubtful.
He pushed his hands into his pockets and turned his head sideways to lock eyes with her. “I will make the time to be available to you whenever you need me,” he said, serious.
She licked her full lips.
The sight of the tip of her tongue stroking across her bottom lip caused his dick to swell with life.
“I have to request that you leave your entourage at the playhouse whenever we have business to tend to,” she suggested softly, stepping back as she pulled the door open.
Maleek chuckled as he took the few steps out the door. He paused and turned, bending down to press his lips to her cheek. “I’ll have my assistant call you with all my contact information.”
He felt her stiffen.
“And I’ll have Faryn draw up a contract, and let’s meet tomorrow to discuss your vision for the event,” she said.
His eyes searched her face, but she avoided his eyes. “We can make it a lunch appointment at The Veranda.”
“That seems to be a favorite place of yours,” she said quickly, and then looked like she regretted it immediately. “Here is fine. I have some other appointments tomorrow.”
Maleek paused at her polite turndown. “See you tomorrow, then,” he said, walking out of the office without looking back.
Maybe it’s for the best, he thought. His initial reaction to her had been visceral, but in hindsight, he could tell that there probably was very little he had in common with Nylah Lovely.
Love woke up with a start, her feet kicking the covers from her body. She released a deep breath through pursed lips and hitched her cotton nightgown over her head to fling it to the floor. She felt sweaty and damp. Her heart was racing and she felt like she couldn’t swallow down enough air. Her nipples were hard and the bud nestled between her thick lips literally pulsed with life.
Love reached for the glass of ice water that she’d set on her nightstand earlier. She took deep sips, enjoying the still cool feel of it going down her throat before setting the empty glass back on the wooden coaster.
She closed her eyes as she eased her knees up to her chest and wrapped her slender arms around her legs. When she dropped her head to the groove between her knees, she could smell the scent of her heat. The ceiling fan did absolutely nothing to cool her. The water did nothing to quench her thirst.
All of it from a dream.
Her second that night.
And both seemed all too real.
“Come on, Love, get your shit together,” she warned herself, eyeing the digital clock and groaning as 2:32 AM glared back at her.
With one last deep and steadying breath, she snuggled back down on the queen-sized bed and pulled just the crisp cotton sheet over her nudity. Closing her eyes as she snuggled her face deeper into her down pillow, Love said a silent prayer that this time her dreams would be sex free.
But minutes later, just as she felt her body relax as she succumbed to sleep, Maleek Trenton stood there waiting for her, naked and hard, with his hands already reaching out to stroke her . . .
After signaling Yuri not to follow, Maleek eased out of the front door of the guest house, leaving behind the raucous nature of his friends. He was enjoying their company, reminiscing on their days growing up and the adventures they shared as horny teens.
Random thoughts claimed his attention, pulling him away from stories of three fifteen-year-old boys chipping in to buy time with New York prostitutes or being chased out of unfamiliar neighborhoods in their attempts to visit some cute girl with a smile. Instead, his thoughts were filled with memories of Love.
He had seen women more luscious, more beautiful, more vibrant. All races, shapes, and sizes. But not once in his adult life could he remember a woman affecting him so quickly. So deeply.
Her mouth. Her eyes. Her scent.
A desire to see her again. To be in her presence again.
Even after he made his way into the main house and up the stairs to his bedroom, he lay in bed naked and unable to sleep as he inhaled the scent of summer wafting through the open windows and wishing it were the smell of Love instead.
“Damn,” he swore, releasing a heavy breath.
In an instant, Nylah Lovely had gotten under his skin.
Chapter 5
“Summer Soft”—Stevie Wonder
One Week Later
Love was with Faryn in the outer office reviewing the final guest list for a charity luncheon in two weeks. When the elevator slid open, she looked up over the rim of her square-framed glasses as Maleek stepped off.
She thought of her dreams and felt warmth flood her neck. She removed her glasses and rose to her stilettos. “I wasn’t expecting you today, Mr. Trenton,” she said, hating that her heart pounded so hard at the first sight of him. She stepped toward her door to open it wide.
Maleek nodded at Faryn as he walked up to Love.
Overwhelmed by the sight of him, devastatingly handsome even in a V-neck T-shirt and shorts, she instinctively stepped back against the wooden door of her office as she looked up at this man who made her five foot ten inch height seem like she was a dwarf. “How can I help you?”
“I was headed out of town for a last-minute weekend trip and wanted to check on things before I left,” he said, stepping past her into the office.
Love entered and closed the door behind them. With him in it, her spacious office seemed like a cubicle. While his back was turned, she pressed her hand to her heart. It was beating wildly.
She hadn’t seen him since the day he signed the contracts and paid his deposit. Nearly a week. She thought her reaction to him would have faded. No such luck.
Just as she passed him, he lightly touched her shoulder, and Love turned by the bookcase to look up at him.
Maleek reached down to brush his fingers against her cheek.
Love gasped a little, completely taken by surprise by his touch.
“You had glitter on your cheek,” Maleek offered, smiling and showing off his even white teeth and deep dimples, which made his strong and angular, handsome face totally adorable.
“It’s on some of the decorations for events,” she offered, stepping back again and finding nothing but the unrelenting hardness of the bookcase pressing into her back. “Sometimes I find it in the oddest places, trust me.”
Maleek’s smile widened and Love felt her neck and cheeks warm with embarrassment. She could have crawled into a hole and died. Oh, God, why in the hell did I just say that?
His eyes—those smoky and all too sexy slanted eyes—traveled over every point of interest on her face before landing on her lips.
Love was aware of his eyes on her and her mouth parted just a bit.
“I really like the shape of your mouth, Love,“ Maleek said huskily, low in his throat.
Love hated that she shivered and took joy in his compliment. It unnerved a woman fighting ever so hard to resist his charms.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, shifting to the side to gain freedom from his aura surrounding her and luring her in to everything she didn’t want.
Maleek laughed, low and husky and slightly mocking.
Love looked at him over her thin shoulder. “Something funny, Mr. Trenton?” she asked, her southern accent coming through.
His smile dropped a bit as he met her eyes with humor. “Whenever you say ‘Mr. Trenton,’ you sound just like this mean old school teacher I had back in sixth grade. Old Miss Lemons. She was just as sour as her name.”
Love smiled a bit as she thought that over before she came back around her desk to face him. “And you remind me of every bad little boy—or egotistical wealthy man—that thinks what his heart desires is his for the taking.”
&
nbsp; Maleek nodded. “You really do look like a school teacher,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and showing a tattoo of a panther on the back of his forearm.
Another dig. “Oh, and why’s that?”
He shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Oh, no, you wrote the check, now cash it,” she told him, tilting her head up to lock her wide eyes with his.
“Okay,” Maleek agreed, circling her fully as he eyed her up and down. “The hair up in a bun–”
“It’s a chignon, Mr. Trenton.”
“The no-fuss makeup—”
“I’m a busy working woman. Not sure how many of those you run into,” she quipped, looking over her shoulder to keep her eyes on him as he continued to circle her. “What else?”
“The slacks and dresses with your prissy little shirt and pearls . . . you have teacher written all over you,” he finished with satisfaction, lightly touching the double-strand necklace she wore.
“First, let me say thank you. I will take it as a compliment that I ‘look’ like a teacher.” Love crossed her arms over her own chest and then circled him fully. “Second, you can dish it, but can you take it?”
“I’m straight,” Maleek said with confidence, sliding his hands into his pockets.
She lifted one tweezed and shaped brow, pausing in front of him. “And you call a grown man wandering the streets dressed like a twelve-year-old . . . straight?”
Maleek pretended to look wounded. “A twelve-year-old?” he balked.
“Better still, like one of those forty-year-old rappers. Uhm, yo, yo, yo, this MC Grandpa in this house, foshizzle, my nizzle.” Love did a classic Run-DMC stance, actually enjoying their banter.
“Oh, you got jokes?”
“You do know they sell suits in your size?”
“And you assume I don’t own one.”
“Did you not assume that I don’t own anything but conservative clothing?”
“A’ight, you got me,” he said, smiling as he held his hand to his chest with a grin.
Love forced herself to look away from him. “Can we discuss your event really quickly before you head off?” she asked, bending down to pull a large leather-bound portfolio from beneath her desk.