That Time in Venice (Love Unexpected Book 6)

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That Time in Venice (Love Unexpected Book 6) Page 2

by Delaney Diamond

“Anika.”

  Her body reacted to the warm sound of his voice, the low, sexy sound echoing inside of her. Her nipples tightened. Her pulse jumped. Her entire being quivered, recognizing the voice of the man who’d given her exquisite memories one summer a long time ago.

  “Y-you live here now?” Anika asked.

  He nodded. “I moved from New York six months ago.”

  Laura glanced from one to the other. “So the two of you know each other?” she asked slowly.

  Anika swallowed. “We—we haven’t seen each other in a long time. Years. Not since…”

  Reed’s jaw tightened at the unspoken words left dangling in the air. His jaw had often tightened under the weight of intense emotion—anger, sadness, ecstasy. Suddenly, the memories of fierce passion, inexhaustible and relentless, evoked heat in her insides.

  Her mind flashed back to heated whispers, her back pressed against a hard wall, and his hands beneath her skirt. His driving thrusts as he pinned her beneath him in bed, their hearts beating rapidly in synch, and their sweat-sprinkled bodies wrapped around each other during what had been, without a doubt, the best week of her life. An unbelievable, breathtaking six days in Italy.

  Seven years, and she’d never forgotten that trip—or him.

  “That time in Venice,” he finished for her.

  Anika swallowed again, forcing back the constriction in her throat. What they’d shared had been so unexpected, starting out innocently enough before snowballing into an avalanche of emotion that almost broke her.

  “Yeah,” she whispered. “Not since Venice.”

  Chapter 2

  Anika Taylor. What were the chances?

  “Is the fact that the two of you know each other good or bad?” Laura’s eyes flicked at them from beneath a wrinkled brow.

  “Um…” Anika hedged, at the same time Reed said, “Good.”

  Laura raised an eyebrow, and Anika shot a glance at him.

  “I don’t have a problem with us working together, do you?” he asked.

  “I’m fine if you’re fine.” She smiled, but the expression in her eyes didn’t match the upward tilt of her mouth.

  “I’m absolutely fine.”

  “Then we’re both fine,” Anika said.

  They stared at each other.

  “Good!” Laura pressed her hands together. “Please, have a seat.”

  Reed waited for both ladies to sit before lowering into the chair beside Anika. The side of his body closest to her remained tense. The muscles in his right arm contracted, his neck uncomfortably stiff and tight.

  “I don’t know how much you know about us, but I founded this firm twenty-three years ago on a shoestring budget, with a loan from my daddy, and a whole lotta prayer.”

  Reed smiled. While some southerners tried to lose their accents, Laura clearly embraced hers. He enjoyed listening to her speak. Though not as much as Anika.

  “We’ve grown into the company you see today. Our reputation is very important to us, and we’ve built this firm by taking good care of our clients. People like you. We specialize in residential decor. No project is too small. No project is too big. Renovations, redesign—you name it, we do it. Now”—she clasped her hands together on the desk—“tell us about this house you bought.”

  “Well, it’s a great place. Four bedrooms, living room, den off the kitchen, and a spacious deck out back that runs the full length of the house. A husband and wife lived there before me and took good care of the place, but it does need some updating—except in the kitchen. Lucky for me, the wife was a Food Network fan who fancied herself an amateur chef, so that at least is in pristine condition. I’d like to put some color on the walls, maybe add new light fixtures. I don’t know much about that type of thing.” He shrugged and laughed, glancing at Anika, whose expression remained neutral. “I need new furniture, too, but I don’t know the first thing about putting colors together. My old place was a one-bedroom apartment with only a living room. So as you can imagine, I need the works.”

  Laura nodded her understanding. “Rest assured we’re ready and able to handle all of your project’s needs. Anika is my very best designer. If anyone can transform your home into whatever you desire, she’s the one to do it. I know you’ll be very satisfied with her.”

  From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Anika stiffen. His own body tightened. He had been very satisfied with her in the past. Very satisfied indeed.

  Laura continued. “Anika will start with an initial consultation in your home—no obligation, of course—which will allow her to see the scope of the project and get a sense of your style. Then she’ll put together some initial ideas. You’ll both discuss options until you’re absolutely satisfied with the design plan. By the way, is there a Mrs. Stewart?”

  “No, but there’s a Miss Stewart. I have a daughter.”

  “You have a daughter?” Anika’s voice reeked with shock.

  Laura and Reed glanced at her.

  “I’m surprised, that’s all,” she said.

  “She lives with me full-time and is very opinionated about the design of her new room. Her current obsession is butterflies, which she wants incorporated into the design. I’m open to just about anything, within reason.”

  “We can certainly handle that. So aside from that bedroom, it sounds as if you’ll be able to make the final decisions.” Laura smiled pleasantly. “What we’ll do next is have Anika take you to her office to set up a time for that consultation. I want to assure you that we take customer service very seriously. It’s our honor to be invited into your home, and we don’t take that privilege lightly. Before I let Anika take you away, do you have any questions for me, Mr. Stewart?”

  “Only one. Will you promise to call me Reed and not Mr. Stewart? Mr. Stewart sounds way too formal.” He flashed his most charming grin, which he’d used for years to seduce women and strip them of their inhibitions.

  Laura blushed and laughed. “Well of course, but you must call me Laura. And while I have every confidence that Anika will take good care of you, should you have any problems at all, please feel free to contact me directly. Here is my card with my direct extension.” She handed it over. “We take good care of all our clients, but Judge Evers has been such a good friend to our firm—sending us lovely people such as yourself—we want you to be happy so that she doesn’t regret referring you to us.”

  “I will definitely do that, Laura. But I have no concerns whatsoever. Davenport Design Studio has a stellar reputation, and I’m sure Judge Evers wouldn’t have given me your name if she wasn’t satisfied with your work and the great job you’ve done for her friends.”

  Laura beamed.

  They all stood, and he shook Laura’s hand, making sure to maintain eye contact and send another smile her way. “It was a pleasure.”

  “The pleasure was all mine, Reed,” Laura drawled, a spark of interest emerging in the depths of her eyes.

  Anika cleared her throat. “My office is upstairs. Follow me, please.”

  Reed pulled up the rear as Anika walked down the hall and up the stairs toward her office. He’d been completely unprepared for her appearance, which had left him temporarily speechless. She was even prettier than he remembered, captivating—not unlike the very first time he spotted her as a new hire going through orientation, chewing on the end of a pen and occasionally taking what appeared to be detailed notes in a small spiral bound pad.

  As she walked ahead of him into her office, his gaze outlined her torso. Her body was fuller. Riper. The feminine curve of her waist and hips were outlined by the high-waisted tan pants and cream-colored blouse that played well against her light brown skin. Gold heels added a few inches to her frame, bringing her little more than up to the tip of his nose. Her dark hair, highlighted with golden-blonde and framing her heart-shaped face, swept past her neck and slid across her shoulders in a smooth sweep of shiny strands.

  Inside her office he shut the door, inhaling the scent of citrus and ginger, a subtle but ple
asing aroma that filled the room. This didn’t surprise him at all. Anika was a girly girl, sugar and spice and all things nice. The kind who drew hearts over the letter “i” in her words and wore soft, flowing fabrics in pastel colors. Soft-spoken and friendly, she came across as a kitten, but oh man, in bed, the kitten turned into a tigress.

  “This office suits you,” Reed said, glancing around.

  Framed quotes on the wall offered positive and inspirational remarks about life and love. Bright pink, orange, and gold-colored boxes sat on white shelves with knickknacks and books, arranged in such a way to be functional but also artistic. The rest of the room was decorated in a similar colorful fashion, with a drafting table and high-backed stool in front of it, photos on the wall depicting water colors of flowers and other plant life, and a small bookcase filled with pastel-colored three-inch binders behind her desk. Everything indicated the person who occupied this space contained a vibrant, vivacious personality.

  Standing behind her desk, Anika opened a blue and pink planner and flipped through the pages. “Let’s see, which day should I come by? I have—”

  “It’s quite a coincidence, isn’t it? Running into each other?”

  “Yes, quite a coincidence.” She kept her attention on the planner. “I can meet with you on Wednesday or Thursday, if you’re free. My schedule is wide open in the afternoon on both those days.”

  He couldn’t stop staring at her. “How have you been?”

  Her gaze lifted to his face. “Excuse me?”

  “How have you been?”

  He wanted to know everything. What had she been doing in the intervening years? Where did she live? How long had she been working in interior design? Was she seeing anyone or married? His gaze dropped to her left hand, and his brain became drenched in unexpected relief when he saw her bare fingers.

  He hadn’t been able to forget Anika and almost immediately regretted not staying in touch. If he had the opportunity to relive their last moments together, he’d handle the separation differently. Hell, maybe he wouldn’t have left at all. He’d never regretted anything the way he regretted leaving her that day. Maybe—just maybe, fate was giving him another chance.

  “I’m okay. Nothing special going on with me.” She seemed guarded, her answer purposely vague.

  “I seriously doubt that. Do you enjoy your job?”

  “Yes.”

  The clipped response didn’t deter him. “Have you lived anywhere else?”

  “No, but I don’t think I could. I love my city.” She shrugged.

  “No shame in that.”

  She focused on the planner again. “What’s your schedule like later this week?”

  “Slow down. I want to talk and catch up a little.”

  “Why?”

  The question caught him off guard. “What do you mean, why? Because…”

  “Because what? I have to do a good job.”

  “I understand, and I don’t doubt that you will, but…” He blew out a frustrated breath of air. He was so desperate to talk to her and find out how she’d been, while she seemed completely uninterested in engaging in any kind of small talk. “Would it hurt to take a few minutes to catch up?”

  “I’m extremely busy. As you can see.” She gestured toward her desk, the neat and orderly appearance doing nothing to substantiate the claim.

  “Why are you being so cold?”

  “I’m sorry, were you expecting a hug and a kiss?”

  He didn’t think it was possible, but the temperature in the room plunged below zero. Her dark brown eyes, devoid of emotion, seemed to look through him. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. “No. Of course not.” He’d expected—hoped, he’d see a glimpse of the woman he’d spent time with in Italy. They’d joked around, seen the sights together, and made love like there was no tomorrow. Swallowing his pride, he answered the almost forgotten question. “I work from home a few days a week. How about Wednesday?”

  A slender, light brown finger scrolled down the page. “One o’clock okay?”

  “That’s good for me,” he said, voice as clipped and devoid of emotion as hers.

  Anika wrote in the planner, capped her pen, and set it on the desk. She smiled brightly, as though nothing was amiss. He began to wonder if he were crazy.

  “I have a little homework assignment for you. Go to the ideas tab on our website and look at the different decorating styles—eclectic, traditional, contemporary, etcetera—and give some thought to what you think your style is. We can talk in more detail when I see you on Wednesday, but I want you to examine the photos so we can discuss which one you find yourself gravitating toward. Also, think about the changes you want to make, the furniture you want to keep, do you want to start from scratch with a clean slate—that kind of thing. Don’t feel pressured to make any decisions. I only want you thinking about these things so we have a starting point. Okay?”

  Her aloofness irritated him. She really was treating him like any old customer. As if they didn’t spend almost every minute of every day together for six straight days. As if they hadn’t been lovers. As if she hadn’t clawed his ass and gasped his name as she came.

  “I can do that.”

  “We’re all set. Do you have any questions for me?”

  “Small world, isn’t it?” He couldn’t help pressing forward, demanding a response.

  She averted her eyes to the desktop. “Very.”

  “I’m looking forward to working with you.” Reed extended his hand, and for a split second thought she wouldn’t take it, but then she clasped his larger hand in her smaller one.

  Her soft skin sent a zing of electricity through his veins. As his fingers tightened fractionally around hers, her full lips parted slightly. No sound came out, but his chest tightened with the memory of those lips against his, and he was glad for the glass and wood desk between them. Otherwise, he might have done something irrational, such as pull her in for a quick taste.

  Anika tugged away her hand, clenching it into a fist at her side. “I’ll see you on Wednesday.” She kept her face neutral, but he didn’t miss the underlying tremble in her voice. The fire was still there, waiting to consume them.

  “I’ll see you then.”

  Reed walked out of the office, letting the door swing close behind him. He flexed his tingling hand.

  Those brief moments alone with Anika reminded him of what could have been, if he hadn’t been a dumb twenty-two-year-old, afraid to take a chance. But he was older now.

  And much, much wiser.

  Chapter 3

  Anika peered through the blinds of her second floor window as Reed took confident, long-legged strides to a navy blue Tahoe in the parking lot. The rain had stopped, but dark clouds remained in the sky, promising more showers later in the day.

  He climbed his fit body into the vehicle and drove away, and her gaze followed the entire time until he turned onto the main road. Only then could she breathe easier.

  “Knock, knock.” Jasmine stood in the doorway holding a rectangular box. “This came for you. I figured you’d want it right away.”

  “Is that the new vase for the Winthrops?”

  “I believe so.”

  “Thank goodness.” The Winthrops were a wealthy and needy client. She’d been working with them for months, and as with all events associated with Murphy’s Law, the neediest client encountered the most problems during a redesign.

  Jasmine set the box on the desk and Anika cut it open. She removed the stuffing and held the multi-colored Chinese vase up to the light, twisting and turning to see it from all angles. The last vase had arrived with two chips, one at the lip and the other at the base. This one was in pristine condition.

  “Perfect.” She could finally consider the redesign complete.

  “You want me to have one of the interns run the vase over to the Winthrops?”

  “No, I’ll do it.” They’d had so many problems, she wanted to personally deliver this last item and
make sure the family was happy. “But do me a favor and call Mrs. Winthrop, and let her know I’m on my way. I’m going over there now.”

  Anika stuffed the packing material and vase back into the box and grabbed her coat and purse.

  “Sooo, are you going to keep me in suspense? What do you think?”

  “About what?” Anika asked.

  Jasmine fisted a hand on her hip. “Don’t be coy. What do you think of our new client?”

  Anika slipped her arms through the sleeves of her coat. “Actually, I know him.”

  “Oh really? How do you know him?”

  “We went to Georgia State together.” Anika flung her purse over her shoulder and picked up the box, hugging it to her torso.

  “So he’s an old college friend?”

  “Not a friend, really. More of an acquaintance. Our work-study assignment was in the dining hall. We haven’t seen each other in years, though.” She’d never told anyone the whole story about her trip to Venice. Even her cousin Ronnie only knew bits and pieces and not all the details.

  “What a coincidence,” Jasmine said.

  “Mhmm. See you later.” She hurried out to avoid discussing Reed any further. She worried Jasmine would pick up on her discomfort.

  Downstairs, Anika picked up her umbrella at the door and walked to the car.

  There are no coincidences. That’s what her mother always said, a firm believer in “everything happens for a reason.” No matter how delicate or painful or damaging a circumstance, her mother found a way to spin it positively, and she’d influenced Anika’s viewpoints over the years.

  Seven years ago, Anika ran into Reed thousands of miles away from their campus. Seeing a familiar face—even if it belonged to Reed Stewart—had brightened what could have been a mediocre vacation all by herself.

  Venice

  She was actually in Venice!

  Anika couldn’t stop smiling as she leaned on the railing of the water taxi, cruising down the Grand Canal. All of her senses worked overtime. A temperate breeze wafted through her hair and across her skin, cooling her body beneath the sun’s warm rays. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the fresh air mingled with the scent of briny, teal-colored water and let her gaze encompass all the boats gliding in the water around them. Lifting her camera, she snapped a photo of the seascape spread out before her. Then took additional pictures of the buildings on either side of the canal, a colorful display that showcased the city’s Byzantine and Islamic architectural influences.

 

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