by M. O. Kenyan
Catalella tried her best not to drink. She was keeping her body pure. Ever since she got sick, she did her best to avoid anything that could cause her body to function at a fraction of its maximum capacity. She saw the look on Darcy’s face. It was goading her and her precocious nature. “Skinny girl margarita—you want one?”
Catalella froze in shock when Darcy tossed back her head, leaned back and howled. She laughed at how silly her friend was and wished she could be as carefree.
“That was a wolf call if I ever heard one.” A tall blond man approached them, a grin on his lips. “Howl no more. I’m here, baby.”
Catalella snorted but Darcy took the bait. “I’m a bit wild. I don’t think you can handle me.”
“I’m ambitious. I’ll try my best, I promise.” He put his hand on his chest then leaned into Darcy’s ear, whispering something only she could hear. Darcy laughed but shook her head when she looked at Catalella.
Catalella knew what that meant. Whatever the man had offered Darcy had turned it down to babysit her. She wasn’t going to hold her friend back. Catalella leaned into the guy and spoke loud enough for him to hear her above the music. “If you can buy her a drink she’s all yours.”
The guy laughed and pulled Darcy behind him. Catalella watched until they disappeared into the crowd. She stood on her own, wondering what she should do.
* * * *
Rich leaned against the wall as he watched her. He had seen her arrive a few minutes earlier, but he didn’t believe it. What was Ice Queen doing at party central? He really didn’t think he should approach her since she had a companion with her. But when her friend left with a man he got a bit of confidence. He watched and waited for her next move, all the while admiring her new look. At first, when he saw her, he thought he’d made a mistake. The beige pants suit was gone and in its place was a red mini dress that held onto every one of her curves for dear life, molded to her like a caress. Her once strangled hair was set free and it poured around her head in curls. Her mile long legs ran into six inch high stilettos. Everything about her begged to be noticed.
He moved away from the wall he leaned against when she walked into the crowd, and could only assume that her destination was the bar. Rich kept a safe distance away but followed through the throng of people. She leaned on the bar and her dress rose a few inches. His breath caught in his chest as he admired the exposed flesh. He was about to go to her when another man beat him to it.
* * * *
Catalella waved her hand at the bartender but he didn’t seem to notice her. She leaned over the bar and called out to him. He finally saw her and lifted his finger at her to indicate one minute.
“In one minute I might be leaving,” she muttered to herself.
“Why is that?” a voice whispered into her ear.
She hadn’t heard that voice in four years. As a teenager she used to think his voice was the sexiest she had ever heard. That was until that voice had dealt her a lethal blow, a blow that had driven her to think that suicide was her only option. The anger that sizzled beneath her skin seemed to turn her body hot. She clenched her teeth as she pulled back her claws. There was no need to make a scene here, and she didn’t want him to know that he sparked any sort of emotion in her. That would only make him feel special.
Catalella groaned and felt nauseated. His voice always seemed to have that kind of effect on her. She could almost hear him again, telling her he was leaving because she was less of a woman. “Mathews.”
“I think we know each other well enough to be on a first name basis.” Michael grinned at her all the while his gaze wandered over her body.
Catalella felt violated. She could see him strip her in his mind, but things weren’t the same as they were four years ago. “What rock did you crawl out from?”
Michael barked out a laugh and she couldn’t help but feel he was laughing at her. “Oh Cat, you are so funny.”
“Don’t call me that.” She loathed that name ever since he had walked out on her. It only gave her bad vibes.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, and when she didn’t volunteer any information he went on: “If I had known you would be this sexy four years later—”
“You would have stayed.” She cut him off. “But that would mean you are a decent human being. But we know that’s not true, don’t we, Mathews?”
When she turned away from him, he grabbed her arm. Not hard enough to hurt her but enough to command her attention. Catalella begun to struggle but he was too strong for her. She let him pull her to him but, as he did, an arm circled her waist.
“Hey, princess, I thought you were getting us some drinks? What’s the hold up?”
She knew that voice. Its deep, velvety baritone that filtered out Michael’s voice was greatly welcomed and, thank God, she had a different response to it. A slow smile crept onto her lips and she had the pleasure of seeing the reaction the newcomer had on Michael. She watched as Michael slowly let go of her arm, saw his startled expression as he examined the man behind her. Catalella leaned back into his chest, her arms covering the one around her waist. The guy was huge, and maybe it was his size that was intimidating Michael. Or it might be the fact that Michael didn’t think anyone would want Catalella, not after her body had been ravaged by cancer?
“I ran into an old friend…sweetheart.” What the hell was his name again? She hadn’t gotten his name the day they met. She was too busy trying to chase him away.
* * * *
“Hi, I’m Rich.” Rich extended his free hand to the man.
“Michael,” the guy said.
Rich saw the stunned expression on the man’s face and wondered what it meant. Did she come with him and she wasn’t interested anymore? His thought left the unfortunate man and moved to his arm where—what was her name?—was stroking her fingers.
“I didn’t know you had a date, Catalella,” Michael said.
Catalella, how beautiful. “Where is your drink, my little orchid?” Rich asked. Her skin was as delicate as the petals of a little orchid, soft to the touch and sweet.
“The bartender is busy serving the guys on the other side. I’m sure he’ll be heading this way anytime now,” she said as she turned her body into his.
Catalella rested her hands on his chest. Rich smiled at the genuine shock and appreciation he saw in her eyes as she felt him up. His heart beat thunderously faster and he prayed that she didn’t notice. She had turned her body towards his and, as someone squeezed in behind her, her breast pressed against his chest, her arms winding up on his back to grip onto his shirt. He looked down at her and her eyes rose to meet his. He smiled at her. The Ice Queen had thawed out and all it took was for him to play hero. He shifted her body away from his growing erection.
“What do you want to drink?” he asked in a low tone, praying she couldn’t hear the desire dripping from it.
“She likes red wine,” Michael called out and handed Catalella a glass.
But before Catalella could take it, Rich had the glass in his hands. “May I?”
“Umm…sure.” She smiled. He never thought he would see her so…not guarded.
“I appreciate you buying my little orchid a drink but this isn’t good enough for her.” He grinned at Michael then drummed his fingers on the bar. The bartender lifted his head and headed for them.
“I’ve been trying to do that for almost twenty minutes,” she said, shocked.
Rich smiled at her but didn’t say anything else. He pushed away the glass of red wine Michael had bought for Catalella and lifted three fingers.
“Sign language,” Catalella teased.
“You could say that.” He grinned back at her.
A few minutes later the bartender came back with three glasses and two bottles of red wine. He opened one bottle in front of them, then poured into a glass for the lady and handed the bottle to Rich for him to approve. Rich nodded and handed the bottle back.
* * * *
“How do you get them to serv
e you so fast?” Catalella asked.
“It’s called a hundred dollar bill, sweetheart.” Michael’s voice rang behind her.
She cringed. The cockroach was still here. “That wine is superb.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Rich handed her a full glass. He then pushed another towards Michael and gave him the bottle that was already half full. “I think you should keep that. I have a feeling that you are a half-empty kind of guy.”
Catalella chuckled. The offended look on Michael’s face was enough to make her night.
“Do you want to dance?” Rich asked.
“She doesn’t dance,” Michael offered.
“Maybe she didn’t have the right partner.”
“I would love to dance,” Catalella said. “But what about our drinks?”
Rich knocked on the bar once again and the bartender seemed to run to his aid. “Put this away for us.”
“How do you do that?” Catalella asked, impressed.
“It’s a secret. If you dance with me I might tell you.”
He winked at her and Catalella felt her pulse race and pulled him onto the dance floor. She was lost as to what she should do, but breathed easy when he took control. Soon they were moving to the music, their bodies rubbing against each other. Catalella chanced a glance at Michael and saw him scowl. He watched as they danced for ten minutes. When her body began reacting in a way that wasn’t normal and left her feeling wanton, Catalella stepped away.
“We should get our drinks,” she said, her voice nothing more than a whisper.
“Don’t worry about that.” Rich lifted his hand at a waiter and he rushed towards them. “Get our drinks. We’ll sit at a table at the back.”
“He doesn’t know where our drinks are,” she protested.
“Trust me,” he said with a grin.
Catalella was relieved. The music wasn’t so loud at the back. She could hear herself think and she didn’t have to shout. Plus the headache that was coming on was at bay. It helped that Michael wasn’t there with them. Although her present company made her a bit unsure of herself, she liked being with Rich.
“This party seems a bit too packed to be a private party,” Catalella pointed out as she looked out into the crowds—anything to avoid meeting his gaze.
“How did you get in?” Rich asked.
“My friend and her puppies.” Catalella’s hands gestured towards her breasts. She heard him laugh and all she wanted to do was soak in his laughter. “So how did you get in? I didn’t think they would let any riff raff in here. You aren’t exactly dressed for a private party.” She looked at what he was clad in—a black long-sleeve T-shirt that was pushed back to his elbows, faded blue jeans, and white sneakers.
“When you own the place they will let you dress however you want to.” He grinned at her.
Catalella could feel the shame crawling into her. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I only dress like riff raff on the weekends. And the private party was over an hour ago. This is just a party.”
The waiter came with their drinks and Rich pressed a bill into his palm.
“That’s why they serve you so fast. They don’t want to get fired.”
“I’m not that kind of boss,” Rich said. “So your name is Catalella, spelled with a double ‘l’ that is pronounced as a ‘y’.”
“I figured you knew that when you started calling me my little orchid.'” She sipped her drink. “You must know some Spanish.”
“I’ve been dipped in culture,” Rich said.
“Anyway, I’m a lawyer. I work at Ross and Kent Advocates. If you ever find yourself in a bind, come look for me,” she said.
“Now I get the beige suit,” he teased. “I never pegged you for a night club kind of person.”
“First of all it’s a restaurant that happens to be hosting a party,” she corrected. “Secondly, it might be the only time I’ll get a chance to go out. I’m trying to land a whale for my firm and become a senior partner.”
“Who’s the whale?”
“Some guy called McCrery. But I’ll be talking to his representatives.”
“Why not to him directly?”
“Apparently people say he has no time for his business. He fired his last representatives on a whim. Rumor has it he has more women than Solomon and all he does is party.”
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I think he’s a lost boy. He lived his life for one goal: to please his father. Now that his father is dead he doesn’t know who he should be working for. His business gives him profit but his father being proud of him gave him satisfaction.” She sipped her wine then went on. “There is no one left to be proud of him, so he doesn’t bother.”
“What do you think he should do?”
“Work to make himself proud of what he’s done to continue his father’s legacy. He needs to find satisfaction in himself and not the people around him.”
“So, in other words, he should work to make himself proud of his own accomplishments.” Rich tied it up.
“You get me.” Catalella chortled. “Sometimes the only people we can depend on are ourselves.”
Rich looked towards the crowd and saw Michael approaching. He couldn’t help but guess that last comment was meant for her in relation to Michael. “Who was the douche bag?”
“My ex-husband,” Catalella said in an almost-whisper. Rich already knew about Michael—not everything but the basic details.
“Well your ex-husband is headed this way. Do you want to dance?” he asked and his eyebrow rose in a questioning glance.
Should she risk it? Catalella had noticed how his body made hers feel. She had been devoid of human contact for the past four years. Having his body grind against hers made her feel like she was about to erupt. She wanted to have that feeling again, even if it was only for a few minutes.
“Sure, but what about our drinks?” she asked, almost choking on her wine.
“They are fine here. Plus I don’t think we need to go into that crowd over there.” Rich stood up and took her hand. He waited for her to stand before taking a step back. “We could dance right here.”
Rich lifted her arms over his shoulders and his own went around her waist. He pulled her close, their bodies molding into each other. Catalella was glad she had her high heels on. If she didn’t have them, Rich’s towering height would be too difficult to hold. She watched as Michael stopped, his jaw slack as he watched them. But, when he caught her eye, he winked at her and took a seat at their table.
Catalella ignored him and stared back at the blue eyes gazing at her. She examined his lips…they were thick and seemed hard, but she was sure that when they kissed they were gentle and as soft as a feather. She cupped her palm on his jaw and the delicate, intimate way she was holding him surprised them both. Rich turned his head a fraction so that he could press a kiss in her palm. Her breath hitched when his hands rubbed up and down her back. She could feel them go low and stop just above her ass, but she could feel how he wanted to hold her there, needed to.
She pressed her body closer to his a bit more and gasped as his desire pressed into her stomach. Her throat closed and her stomach ground at that moment. She wanted him, but she didn’t trust herself to make the decision.
“Do you want to?” Rich asked, the baritone in his voice rolling through her, making every single nerve in her body aware and wanting.
She cast a cheeky look at him then winked. She rose on her tiptoes and whispered her address in his ear. “Just in case you get lost or can’t keep up.” Catalella took a step back to the table and grabbed the unopened bottle of red wine.
“Where are you going?” Michael asked as he stood up. “I wanted to talk to you.”
It was as if she couldn’t hear him. Her desire beat so loudly that she could hear the blood rushing through her veins. She turned back to Rich. “Do you think you can keep up?”
Rich groaned, then chuckled, his fingers combing through his short blond hair. “I
’m right behind you.”
Chapter Three
Rich couldn’t stop thanking Michael, the ex-husband, for walking into his restaurant that night. Because of him, he was going to get lucky. But something about Catalella said forever, and that scared the hell out of him. Rich pulled into the road from his private parking spot in the alley in time to see Catalella get into her white BMW. She turned around and at first looked surprised—his red Maserati had that effect on people. Catalella winked at him. Rich wanted to beat her to her apartment, to show her how capable he was at keeping up and give her a hint of the horse power she was going to have to handle. But Catalella pulled out of the driveway with her door still not closed, leaving the valet having to chase after her.
He was in hot pursuit but slowed down as the traffic light began to change. He expected her to do the same, but Catalella sped past the intersection a second before the light went red. His grip on the steering wheel tightened. He expected to hear a crash and see her BMW wrecked but…nothing. He sighed in relief. But soon anticipation and anxiety gripped him. Rich realized that he would be the one catching up. He weaved through traffic as a grin claimed his lips. Ice Queen no more, his little orchid was going to set him on fire.
Rich was glad her building had a valet parking service. He wasn’t sure the bulge in his pants could handle the nuisance of trying to find a parking spot. He headed to the elevator, running past the doorman and his questions. The elevator doors closed and he found himself staring at the buttons. Giving himself a chance to take a few breaths and allowing some blood to return to the head above his shoulders, he tried to remember the floor number.
“Thirty—” Rich chewed on his lower lip as he cursed himself. He tried to picture himself back at the club with Catalella. But the thought of her delicate, luscious lips brushing against his ear as her warm breath feathered across his throat got him even harder, painfully so. Just then he pushed the button to the third floor, telling himself he would remember the last number when he got there.