Wild

by Foster, Lori

  She stared at Arkin’s palm, already knowing what she would see, and what he wanted to hear. At the last second though, before she started her discourse on heart lines and hand coloring and finger zones, she looked into his face. It took her only a moment to make up her mind.

  Today, Arkin needed the genuine article, and she intended to give it to him.

  Tamara squeezed his fingers, then laid his hand aside. “You’re obviously in love.”

  Arkin’s eyebrows lifted. He nodded, eager and wary and hopeful. “Very much so.”

  “The thing is,” she told him with a grin, “she’s very interested in you, too.”

  Drawing back, he asked, “How can you know that?”

  “To be honest, Arkin, I’m not sure. But I feel it, and,” she added gently, “I could feel it only from you.” Tamara regarded him. “You realize the truth, you’re just too afraid to do anything about it.”

  Covering his face with his hands, Arkin groaned. “It’s true. I’m afraid of messing up, of doing or saying the wrong thing. She’s not like me, Tamara. She’s....”

  Her heart melting for this gentle man, Tamara suggested, “Exuberant? Alive and outgoing and free-spirited?”

  With a sigh in his voice, he said, “She reminds me of you.”

  Tamara laughed at that. “You’re an attractive man, Arkin. You’re kind and responsible.”

  “And dull as dust.”

  “‘That’s not true.”

  “I need help, Tamara.” He looked beyond morose. “I always say the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

  “You’ve approached her?” She couldn’t help being surprised by his initiative. Arkin Devane was not the aggressive sort. More often than not, he entertained himself with books, not women.

  “I tried.” He winced. “She smiles at me, and I go mute.”

  Tamara thought of the journal she had upstairs. The first few entries had been on approach, and based on the outcome with Zane, they were quite successful. Again, she took Arkin’s hand. “I think I can help you.”

  His eyes gleamed. “You can?” “Yes. I found an incredibly interesting journal that’s filled with excellent advice. I’ll gladly share it with you.”

  His expression went blank, then hopeful. “A journal?” He half-laughed, somewhat uncertain. “Well, you know how much I enjoy reading.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean you need to read the whole thing. There’s a lot in there that doesn’t apply to you, and besides, I’m still reading it myself. But we have plenty of time today, so I’ll just go over the pertinent stuff.”

  Arkin shifted in his seat. “Go over the ... pertinent stuff?”

  Feeling enthusiastic now that she’d made up her mind, Tamara didn’t hesitate. “The first thing we need to discuss is what type of woman you’re approaching. That’s vital to how we handle things.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier if I read it myself?”

  Tamara dismissed his suggestion. “The journal is upstairs. Besides, I can tell you what it said.”

  Because he was shy, Tamara tried to be as matter-of-fact and blunt as she could, without embarrassing Arkin with unnecessary explicitness. The time flew by, and before she knew it, she needed to leave for her appointment with the Realtor.

  Arkin seemed introspective when he finally said good-bye. Considering all the information she’d just shared, he likely had a lot on his mind. She smiled as she watched him leave, hands in his pockets, his head down, deep in thought.

  Luna came up behind her. “Tamara, do you know where the astrology charts are?”

  “What do you mean?” Distracted, Tamara turned to get her jacket and her purse so she’d make it to the Realtor’s on time. “They’re right where they always are.”

  “Nope.” Luna followed on her heels. “I had a customer who had questions about her horoscope, but I couldn’t find the charts.”

  Tamara walked to the shelving behind the counter. Running her finger along the numerous books neatly placed there, spines out, she searched for the binder that held the various charts. It wasn’t where she’d left it.

  Her storage room was disorganized; the rest of her shop was not. Once she sorted through things, she always put them in a specific place so she could grab them in a hurry, if need be.

  Propping her hands on her hips, she said, “That’s weird. They were here last time I looked.”

  “When was that?”

  “Just a few days ago.”

  “If you took them out, maybe you accidentally put them away in the wrong spot.”

  Tamara gave her a look, and Luna said, “I know. Not likely.”

  Kneeling, Tamara quickly searched through the other books. She didn’t have time for this right now. “Well, damn. The address book is in the wrong spot.”

  Luna knelt, too. “It’s even on the wrong shelf.” She sounded a little dazed by that discovery. And a little worried.

  “Everything is mixed up.” Tamara looked at Luna, and saw the same conclusion on her assistant’s face. “Someone has been going through our stuff.”

  Luna plopped down to sit on her bottom. She chewed her lip a moment, then asked, “Do you think one of your aunts was looking for something?”

  “They haven’t been in since I had the astrology charts out.”

  Luna’s next question surprised Tamara. “Are you going to tell Zane?”

  Tamara groaned at the thought. “God, I don’t know. I can just imagine his reaction if I do.”

  “Funny, I was thinking of his reaction if you don’t.”

  Tamara couldn’t help smiling. “There is that.”

  They both stood. Luna dusted off her backside, then brushed Tamara off as well. “For what it’s worth, I say tell him.”

  “I’ll think about it. If the offer today is good enough, it may not even matter. None of this will be mine anymore.”

  “What if all this,” Luna asked, indicating the shop, “isn’t what they’re after? What if someone is after you?”

  Tamara snatched up the big bag she used as a purse, and headed for the door. She didn’t want to even consider the possibility, yet Luna’s words hung with her, and she felt on edge as she caught the bus that would take her to the Realtor’s. But it wasn’t just the misplaced items in her shop that had her apprehensive.

  Again and again, she felt watchful eyes on her, yet no one on the bus seemed to be paying her any mind. Tamara even looked behind her, and saw no one who should make her feel so suspicious. Her heart tripped with the realization that she was being followed.

  Her business with the Realtor didn’t take long; the offer was good, but it wasn’t quite what she’d hoped to get, what she knew the building was worth because of its location. She breathed a sigh of relief as she wrote out a counteroffer. She’d just gotten a small reprieve. She’d bought herself a few more days with Zane.

  The second she stepped outside, she again felt the weight of someone’s attention. She didn’t detect any real menace, but the intensity of the focus bit into her, making her legs feel like Jell-O.

  Trying to hide her nervousness, she made her way to the bus stop. There was a crowd of people there—an elderly couple talking quietly, and holding hands. Several college kids milling around, loaded down with books and using curse words for adjectives, loud enough to make the elderly man scowl at them. There was also a tall, dark man dressed in ragged jeans and a flannel shirt, chatting easily with two buttoned-down businesswomen. The man was big, a muscular, unshaven hulk, disheveled, disreputable, impossible to miss. Tamara shook her head at how the women fawned over him, and how he encouraged them with a sexy smile.

  No one seemed aware that they were being watched, but Tamara knew. She still felt it.

  During the bus ride, her tension eased. But the second she got off the bus, along with several other people, she sensed the renewed observation. Attempting to be discreet, she studied the people who’d gotten off the bus with her. The group separated, each person going his or her own way and Tamara found herself s
tanding alone. Vulnerable.

  Unlike the last time, today the sun was bright and warm, a beautiful spring day. Tamara drew a deep breath to calm herself, and headed down the sidewalk. The lunchtime traffic was heavy, and she was jostled several times. Each touch by a stranger pulled her nerves a little tighter. By the time she turned the comer and could see her shop, she was practically running.

  The CLOSED FOR LUNCH sign was in the window. Tamara quickly extracted her key to unlock the door, then burst inside with unnecessary fanfare. From the other side of the counter, Luna looked up. The New Age music Tamara preferred had been replaced with Tom Petty, and the volume was turned up several notches. Luna had removed her boots as she idly danced. She had a half-eaten sandwich in one hand, a diet Coke in the other.

  Tamara locked gazes with her, knowing what she had to do. She sucked in several calming breaths before she finally spoke. “I’ll tell Zane tonight.”

  Luna had stopped dancing the second she spied Tamara’s pale face. Now she gulped down the bite in her mouth, choked, and wheezed out, “What made you change your mind?”

  “I’ve been followed again.”

  It was a few minutes before four o’clock when Zane entered her shop. He didn’t see Tamara, but the second the door chimed, she popped up on the other side of the long, polished counter. She still wore her Gypsy costume, but he hadn’t expected her to have changed.

  Fifteen feet separated the door, where he stood, from the counter, and still he could see the dust on Tamara’s nose and the look of alarm in her eyes. When she realized it was him, the wary look was replaced by a tentative smile. “You’re early.”

  “I couldn’t keep away.” He pushed his hands into his pockets, forcing himself to remain still. Something else had happened, something that had upset her. He was sure of it, just as he was certain she didn’t want to tell him about it.

  Zane studied her as he considered ways of getting her to open up to him. Her glossy lipstick was gone, leaving her soft mouth naked and twice as appealing. The neckline of her blouse gaped a bit, giving him a peek of cleavage.

  When she saw the direction of his gaze, she rearranged herself nervously, watching him the whole time as if she expected him to leap on her. “I’ve been a little anxious to see you, too.”

  Zane hid a smile.

  She might have instigated their relationship, and she wanted to call the shots, but the last thing she needed was for him to rush her upstairs. He’d have to be patient, even if it killed him. “You’re alone now?”

  She watched him, wide-eyed and waiting. “Luna left only a few minutes ago.”

  After locking the door and pulling down the shade, Zane moseyed closer. She had a book in each hand, and a few were sitting on the floor. “What are you up to?”

  “Just organizing some things.” She hesitated, then said, “Somehow they got out of order.”

  She bent to push the remaining books into place, and Zane, unable to stop himself, smoothed his hand over her softly rounded ass. She jumped.

  As she quickly turned to face him, he cupped his hand around her nape and smiled. She was warm, soft. He couldn’t stop touching her. “You have the phone on you?”

  “Yes.” Exasperated, she frowned at him. “You don’t have to keep asking that, you know.”

  “Just checking.” She started to grouse again, and he kissed her. He meant it to be a light, teasing kiss, just enough to still her resistance. But she leaned into him and the kiss lingered.

  She tasted so good. He wanted her naked, open, so he could taste her everywhere. His groin throbbed, his testicles pulling tight. He would feast on her, and still it might not be enough.

  He closed his eyes for a moment, forcing himself to calm. “Have you had dinner?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “That’s not what I asked you.”

  Her hands crept up to his shoulders, then looped behind his neck. “I haven’t eaten, but couldn’t we eat ... after?”

  His breathing deepened. “If that’s what you really want.” Damn, how could he be patient if she wouldn’t cooperate? More than anything, he wanted this to be good for Tamara, and with the state he was in now, it’d be over before it started.

  Her smile was sweet, shy. She left him to wander around the shop, snuffing out incense and pinching out candles. Though she’d watched him lock it, she double-checked to make sure the door was secure.

  Her long, wispy skirt flirted around her ankles, and her ankle bracelets rang musically. The late afternoon sunlight coming through the large front window glinted off her jewelry, and left a golden sheen along her skin.

  Her movements were graceful and practiced, and Zane accepted that the shop was a part of her, just as his store was a part of him.

  He knew how hard he’d worked to make his business a success. How hard had it been for Tamara? She was so young, and where he had his brothers backing him, helping any way they could, she had older relatives for whom she felt responsible. Her burden far exceeded his, emotionally and financially. “How did it go at the Realtor’s?”

  She turned off the CD player and a heavy silence settled into the shop, mingling with the scented smoke. “The offer wasn’t enough. I made a counteroffer.”

  Some of the tension eased from his shoulders. “This may all work out yet.” He made the suggestion uncertainly. He had no real idea of how dire her financial situation might be. She’d said she needed to sell, and knowing Tamara, knowing how headstrong she was, if there’d been another way to cope, she’d have found it already.

  “Maybe.” It was plain she didn’t want to talk about it. She looked at him through her darkened lashes. “Are you ready to go upstairs?”

  Inside, Zane smoldered, while outside he maintained an expression of indifference. If Tamara knew how savagely aroused he was, she would probably change her mind and throw him out.

  “Yeah, I’m ready.” Zane took her hand and allowed her to lead the way up the dim, narrow stairwell.

  Tamara closed the door behind him, and turned the key that stayed in the lock. Zane was aware of her in every pore of his body, her nearness, the scent of her, the heat of her skin. Her uncertainty.

  She wanted him, but casual sex was unusual for her. That pleased him.

  “I need to change out of this stuff,” she whispered in a shaky voice, “and shower off my makeup.”

  Zane fingered the wig. He wanted to feel her own soft curls, not the heavy coarseness of the wig. “I could shower with you.”

  As she stared up at him, her eyes glittered with sensual awareness. “I’ve never showered with a man before.”

  Zane paused. “No?”

  “No.”

  He started to ask her exactly what she had done, but he held the words inside. Jealousy was a new emotion for him, and he wasn’t ready to broadcast it. “Let’s make tonight a first then.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  He cuddled her cheek in his palm, enthralled with the velvety, warm texture. He had a feeling she’d be that soft all over, even softer in the places where he badly wanted to touch her, taste her. “Of course not.” He liked it that she would experience something new with him. It would forge a special link that she wouldn’t be quick to forget.

  “I know I gave the impression of having loads of experience....”

  “Shh. It doesn’t matter.” He touched her bottom lip. “By the morning, you’ll have all the experience you need.”

  Her lips parted on an indrawn breath. Because he knew she was nervous and he didn’t want her to be, not with him, Zane kissed her. Her lips parted, her tongue accepting his, twining with his. The tempting sweetness of incense clung to her skin, and beneath that, more subtle, was her own unique hot scent. His hands opened wide over her back and drew her into his chest until he could feel her plump breasts cushioned there.

  He broke the kiss with some effort, while he still could. They both labored for breath.

  In a near daze, Tamara turned and headed for her bedroom. She
went straight to the window and opened the blinds, letting in the fading sunlight. It slanted across her desk, just missing the bed. Zane noticed the computer manuals spread out on the desk, but he didn’t comment on them. Not right now.

  Tamara flipped her head forward, eased the wig off, and ran her fingers through her blonde hair, leaving it seductively disheveled. She looked tousled, as if she’d already had sex.

  Zane used the wall for support. Watching Tamara transform proved incredibly erotic.

  She turned her back to him and removed the contacts. When she faced him again, she stole his breath away. Her hair was in disarray, her eyes now bright green with the kohl liner providing a striking contrast, giving her a more mystical aura than the dark contacts could ever have achieved.

  One by one, she pulled off her rings, and it was a type of strip show he would never forget. She worked methodically, slowly. His heart quickened, his cock swelled. Tamara watched him, and as she removed each ring, her eyes grew heavier with arousal.

  When her fingers were bare of jewelry, she sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her skirt up to her knees. As she bent to take off her sandals, Zane forced himself to move.

  He went to one knee in front of her. “I’ll do it.”

  The tiny bells on the ankle bracelets chimed as he circled her slim ankle with his hand. Her skin was warm and silky smooth, and he imagined her feet braced on his shoulders as he drove into her, holding her hips, refusing to let her retreat from his thrusts.

  His hands shook when he lifted her left foot and slipped her sandal off. Carefully, calmly, he set it on the floor beside the bed. Teasing himself as much as her, he worked each ring off her small pink toes. He did the same with her right foot, and when he’d finished, rather than stand, he parted her legs and moved between them.

  Her already raised skirt bunched a little higher, forced up by his body.

  Tamara made a soft sound and stroked her hand through his hair. “I’ve wanted you ever since the first time I saw you,” she murmured.

  Zane laid her back on the bed. Sultry and sweet, she stared up at him. Her blonde curls formed a halo around her head.