Oliver kept his gaze on the mug. “Just because you make bread doesn’t mean you can’t eat cake.”
Minka scrunched her nose in a playful gesture. “That’s not a very good analogy.”
“You don’t think so?” He faked being taken aback. “Hmph, that one usually gets me a lot of laughs. Folks always notice when I’ve got a drink in my hands that isn’t a Carro wine.”
Minka sipped her cocktail and took time to enjoy the restaurant’s atmosphere. Keene’s had a rugged saloon allure that was smoothed out at the edges by the ease and sensuality of the jazzy, bluesy aura that seemed to permeate the air like something tangible. It was a soft-lit establishment which lent something distinctly romantic to its atmosphere—an element made more evocative by her present company.
She was looking down at the lower level of the dining room. Oliver had arranged for them to have a table with a direct view of the stage, but they could also turn and be dazzled by the beautiful excess of South Beach from the tall windows along the opposing wall of the room.
“Oliver?”
“Mmm...”
Minka smiled, loving the lazy hum of his voice. Apparently, he was as relaxed by the atmosphere as she. “What was it like for you growing up around all this?” She didn’t look away from the stage until she’d posed her question. “Carro,” she clarified. “Your parents accomplished a lot, and you’re meant to take it over some day. That’s a lot on a kid’s shoulders, don’t you think?”
Oliver’s brows rose as he considered her question. “Could be.”
“What do you think that does to a kid?”
“I don’t know.” He straightened in his chair and focused on his beer mug again. “Guess it’d make ’em strong. Or psychotic.”
“Which one did it make you?”
“Well, me, personally, I think it’s good to have a little of both.” He laughed and she joined in.
The waiter returned for their dinner orders and, once he’d left with the requests, Oliver and Minka talked about everything, from musical interests to the hottest spots for San Francisco nightlife. When Minka admitted that she was woefully lacking on the subject of nightlife, in San Francisco or anyplace else, Oliver told her that was a shame.
Their meals arrived, and hearty steaks were the stars of both entrées. Minka’s was a petite sirloin while Oliver dug into a thick T-bone. They ate in relaxed silence, only speaking to ask for pepper, sauce, or honey butter for their potatoes. Gradually, conversation resumed.
“You work too hard not to have a little fun, you know?”
“Yeah, well.” Minka dabbed a napkin corner to her mouth. “My boss is the demanding type.”
Oliver smiled over the dig at Qasim. “I don’t think you’d have a problem if he was, but I don’t think he’s quite as demanding as you make him out to be.”
“And how would you know?” She laughed.
“I’m very observant.” He shrugged and swigged from his second Sam Adams. “Triply so, being an architect, a boss and a big brother. But you don’t strike me as the type with a hearty social life.”
“Thanks a lot.”
Her sarcasm resulted in a cool smile from Oliver. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“So what type do I strike you as?” She made a show of relaxing in the cushioned, pine-framed chair.
Oliver clearly appreciated the sight of her moving around in the roomy chair. “You strike me as the type that keeps her social life intimate with only room for yourself and one other.”
Minka raised her brows as though she’d been impressed by his perceptiveness. “A woman has to be careful of how much people know about her social life. Such things don’t get us the pats on the back that men enjoy.” Some of the cool amusement left her face. “A woman can expect innuendo, spite, ridicule, usually from other women.”
“Did that happen to you?” He told himself to unclench the fist he’d drawn, realizing he’d clenched it as she’d spoken. Imagining her going through such ugliness stirred what was usually a very slow-to-heat temper.
Minka’s smile was reflective and sad. “Not me, but I know someone who has and I learned. I learned very well.”
Oliver caught the waiter’s eye, raised two fingers indicating the request for fresh drinks. “So you lock yourself away as a result of that?”
“I don’t lock myself away, Oliver. I’m just very careful about who I give my key to.”
“Why’d you decide to share it with me?”
Minka shook her head. “That wasn’t my intention.”
“But I was just so persuasive, right?”
“That, too.”
“What else? Honestly, Minka.”
“It’s Miami.”
“Right.” He nodded as though he’d predicted the answer. “So you decided to give in to a fling while you’re here?”
“One that you seemed to have no problem taking part in.” Minka caught the terseness in his tone and responded in kind. “I want to know what you’re like in bed.” She gave him the words he’d said to her less than two days ago. She noticed the slight flare of his nostrils and knew her intrigue had heightened. Surely he wasn’t about to deny saying it? Or maybe he was angry at having his words thrown back at him.
It was neither.
Oliver was angry, but for an entirely different reason. “So you took my words to mean that I was in the market for a fling as well.”
She smiled. “Those words are usually part of the conversation when people talk about flings.”
“Yes, but people weren’t talking about flings, Minka. You were talking about flings.”
“Oliver...” Some of the curiosity gave way to distinct confusion. “I’m...sorry? I guess I misunderstood.”
“I’m the one who should apologize.” Sincerity was evident on his handsome face. “I wasn’t very clear, was I?”
She shook her head but smiled. “I thought you were very clear.”
“Not if you think all I wanted from you is one night.”
“Well, I’d love to see you more than once while we’re in Miami.”
“I want to see you in Miami and after Miami.”
“Oliver, you...” She blinked, straightened a bit in her chair. “You don’t mean we...you want to see me in San Francisco?”
“We both live there, don’t we?”
“Exactly.” She breathed out the word on a chord of laughter. “Oliver it’s too—I—I can’t do that. Not there. This.” She gave a pointed look around the dining room. “All I can give you is here in Miami. If you think about it, you’ll see I’m right.”
Oliver signaled for the waiter again. “Check,” he said when the man got within earshot of the table.
Minka tapped her fingers against the table and watched the beautiful evening go straight down the disposal like a chunk of rotting garbage. “Oliver, talk to me. Please?” She urged when he seemed set on ignoring her.
He reached for his wallet in preparation for the check’s arrival. He sat quietly but for the impatient tapping of his fingers to the table’s surface.
Minka reached over to put her hand atop his. “Oliver—”
He grabbed her hand, squeezed. “You’re better than some fling, some one-night stand that doesn’t mean anything.”
Minka didn’t know that she’d ever felt so stunned. She opened her mouth, closed it, shook her head and then repeated the process. Her head seemed to throb with questions, but she couldn’t seem to find the words to express even one of them.
Oliver could see her surprise, could tell that his words had stunned and staggered. The emotions echoed inside him too. Where the hell had that come from? He bowed his head, taking a hand through the wealth of brown curls adorning his head.
It was true. She deserved more than some one-night stand
that didn’t mean anything. Hell yes, she did. Was he the one to give that to her though? Him? The guy who didn’t even believe in spending the night when he took a woman to bed? That guy? That guy wasn’t the one who could pull off something like that. And he sure as hell wasn’t the one who deserved a beautiful gem like Minka Gerald. But don’t you want to be?
The waiter arrived with the check, and Oliver stood and passed the man a wad of cash.
“Oliver, please,” Minka urged again, once the waiter had bid them good-night.
Oliver walked around to Minka’s side of the table and helped her from her chair. They left the restaurant, leaving behind the aroma of good food, the chorus of hearty conversation and the swell of infectious music.
Saint Helena, CA
Vectra finally returned to the main house after a long day tending to last-minute vineyard issues before taking her trip with Qasim. She was celebrating the fact that she was almost done with her packing when the house line buzzed unexpectedly.
Head housekeeper Charlotte Sweeny informed Vectra that she was needed out at the west vineyard. She slipped on her sneakers, grabbed her keys and was zooming off to the requested spot in one of the property Jeeps in less than five minutes.
By the time she’d arrived, a crowd had gathered along the main road that branched off into a series of narrow secondary roads leading deeper into the east vineyard.
“Ah, jeez...” she groaned, able to make out the drawn, unreadable looks some of the men wore. She pulled to a stop where they’d gathered. Readying herself for the catastrophe that would surely put the kibosh on her vacation, she left the Jeep.
“Charlotte said you guys needed me out here ASAP—what’s up?” Vectra watched the foreman, Kurt Zigler, step forward.
The man looked more harried than usual as he took off his cap and held it near his forehead while scratching at thinning black curls near his temple. “Sorry to call you back out, Vectra, but we’ve got a disturbance blocking the road about half a mile in,” Kurt explained.
“What kind of disturbance?” Her usually dependable staff didn’t have many such upsets. “Is there something wrong with the crop?”
“Not exactly.”
Vectra looked skeptical. “Have you guys even seen this disturbance?”
“Well, uh.” Kurt shared a quick look with his colleagues. “We were told it was private.”
“Told it was private?” Vectra fisted her hands to her hips. “Kurt—”
“Now, just hold on.” Kurt waved both hands defensively. “We’re sorry, but that’s what he said.”
“He? Does he know this is private property?”
Kurt shrugged a beefy shoulder. “No offense, Vectra, but the guy didn’t act like he gave a crap about that.”
“Oh, he didn’t?” Her voice was deceptively cool. “Well, let’s see if he gives a crap about this.”
The men watched their boss return to the Jeep, which roared to life in seconds. Vectra hit the gas hard and sped down the road where the “disturbance” lay.
She’d driven less than half a mile when her scowl cleared. Her mouth fell open once more, not in exasperation, but captivation.
A small round table was covered by a gold cloth, the edges of which flared against a cool breeze. The table was situated in the middle of the road as though it had every right to be there. Adorning the table was a candelabrum gleaming with flickering candles that were vibrant against the darkening evening backdrop.
Round silver covers of varying sizes shielded at least six dishes. As stunning a sight as it was, what held Vectra truly captivated was Qasim standing in the midst of it all.
Slowly, dazedly, she shut off the ignition and left the Jeep. Qasim, his strikingly gorgeous face unreadable, moved toward her. Vectra was still so in awe of the moment, that she didn’t hear the commotion of her staff as Jeeps pulled up to witness the scene. Almost the entire vineyard staff had gathered.
“What are you doing here?” Vectra’s words were slow, her manner still stunned when she met him just a few feet from the table.
Qasim offered an encouraging smile. “What’d you hear?”
“That someone was causing a disturbance.”
Qasim nodded his agreement. “I guess there could be one of those if I don’t get what I want.”
“And, uh...” Vectra smoothed her hands over her arms and gave herself a light squeeze. “What do you want?”
Sim glanced toward the table. “What does it look like?”
“Dinner?” She blurted.
“That a problem?”
“No, but...here?”
He smiled. “I’ve thought about this since we were out here a few months back.”
Vectra remembered. It was the first time they had exchanged I love yous.
“You could’ve told me,” she said.
He chuckled, helping her into one of the cushioned chairs at the table. “Then that would’ve spoiled the surprise.”
“At least then I could’ve dressed for the occasion.” She smiled up at him. “And there wouldn’t have been any expectations of a disturbance.”
“Not so fast, Ms. Bauer. I still haven’t gotten everything I want.”
Before she could ask, he was plucking a small box from the table and kneeling before her chair. Vectra tuned in to the crowd behind her, hearing gasps, giggles and several grunts of approval. Her heart lifted, and her breath caught.
“Vectra...you’ve been my friend and now my best friend,” he said. “I know we should be waiting, but I really need you to be my wife.”
“Sim...”
He nodded, absorbing the way she sighed his name. “You don’t have to give me an answer right—”
“Yes.”
He inhaled sharply when the word touched his ears. “Yes?”
“Yes, Qasim. I want to be your wife.” Vectra leaned closer to gaze directly into his eyes. “I want to be your wife very much.”
Qasim closed his eyes, resting his forehead to Vectra’s knee for just a moment before he gathered her close and lifted her from the chair.
The hushed silence of the crowd became cheers and cries of congratulations.
* * *
Minka didn’t expect that Oliver would help her from the car, much less escort her back into the condo, when the SUV pulled to a smooth stop in the driveway. But he did. While he may’ve been a ladies’ man of the most supreme variety, Oliver Bauer somehow managed to maintain the distinct air of a gentleman.
Their trip from the restaurant had passed without conversation. Neither of them sang along to the string of popular classics playing on the old-school R&B station they’d enjoyed during the drive earlier that night.
“Oliver, wait. Please?” Minka held her tongue until they were back inside the condo. Oliver was giving the place a thorough, yet efficient, check and then making his way back to the front door. She clutched her hands when his departure slowed.
“I’m very sorry about this, Oliver. I’d like for you to believe that. I shouldn’t have made light of what you said before. I really thought we were on the same page there. I’m sorry I offended you. Just don’t leave angry.”
Oliver redirected his path and walked toward the living room while Minka made her argument.
She stopped, not knowing what else to say to close the void her words had produced.
“So you’re telling me that I can stay as long as I’m angry?”
His words stopped her, but then she smiled.
“Sure.” Oliver nodded and paced the room for a few moments. His steps brought him closer to where Minka stood near the room’s entryway. Her breath hitched, yet Minka forced down any reaction that hinted at her wantonness. The man had the ability to bring about that reaction with little more than a look. Promptly, Minka reminded herself that such a
reaction was what had ruined a perfectly enjoyable evening.
She felt herself retreating and realized Oliver was nearly in front of her. She took a few steps back, and her back met the wall.
Oliver rested a hand near her head against the wall, looking conflicted. “When I’m frustrated and angry, there’s only one thing that helps.”
“Which is?”
He feigned a look of discomfort in response to her question. “It’ll sound crass if I put it into words.”
“I see.” Her voice adopted a husky undercurrent. She swallowed, allowing her need to slowly reassert itself as he toyed with the uneven hem of her dress.
“That makes it hard to know what I can do to help.” His fingers grazed her bare thigh, causing sensations to radiate from the touch.
Oliver’s grin could have appeared welcoming, if only his stare weren’t so direct.
“I wouldn’t worry about you being confused.”
“Okay.” The response made her sound every bit the eager little girl. Her heart went to her throat when his gaze lingered on her mouth.
“Wait,” she moaned when only a hair’s breadth separated their lips. “You said you couldn’t have sex in your sister’s house.” She watched him raise his head a fraction and gave herself a mental kick for ruining the moment.
Oliver grinned, brushing the back of his hand across her cheek. “She’ll forgive me.”
Chapter 7
Minka’s whimper sounded loud just as Oliver’s tongue teased her parted lips. His unhurried manner was an aphrodisiac all its own. His hand continued to rest against the wall while the other stayed on her thigh, strong fingers outlining lazy circles along the satiny inside. His tongue teased her mouth, using the same lazy caresses.
Minka was eager for the kiss that was too slow in coming. Not that the man’s teasing wasn’t an arousing treat, but she’d been tempted enough by his kisses over the past several days.
Oliver grinned when she snagged his collar—a silent demand that he lower his head. The grin grew more defined as he resisted her tugs and succeeded in making her stand on her toes in an attempt to reach his mouth.
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