Velvet Exhale

by Beth Mikell

  I winced at my lie. "Okay, I did get a phone," I murmured. Well, I did.

  "Really? Color me shocked. You've never wanted one in the past, but I'm so happy. Now, I'll have more ready access to my daughter. What's your number?"

  Crap! I had no idea. "Uh...I don't know yet," I said, how lame. I quickly tried to cover. "I just got it, Mom. I haven't memorized it yet, but I'll give it to you soon."

  My mother paused for a second. "All right, darling. Well, the reason I called earlier is to remind you that your father and I leave for our cruise on Sunday, but we'll be back a few days before Gemma's wedding. Your father received his test results back from his physical. It looks like he has the beginning of prostate cancer, love," she announced, but hurriedly rushed forward after I gasped. "But, not to worry, darling--"

  I heard my father explode in the background. "Angela! Don't scare the poor girl! Give the phone to me."

  The warm voice of Frank Lourde filled my ear. "Hey pumpkin. Please don't worry. The doc said we caught it early enough and I'll start some treatment soon. The cure rate is good, but we'll keep you updated."

  As the call ran on, more unhappiness filled me. Family had always been so important and it's hard for me to imagine one of us in pain or hurting--it's so foreign and miserable. My call ended with my parents with an exchange of worry and love. I noticed a message waiting and a burst of excitement threaded through my body and I felt like a heel for my sudden happiness. I knew it's from Noah...and my hands shook as I pressed the new message link.

  *If flowers bring smiles, expect delivery every day. I am looking forward to more unexpected surprises with you, Ms. Lourde. Dream of me. --N*

  I inhaled sharply from his words. Was this romance? Or was this the beginning of a nightmare? Somehow, I knew I would dream of him and I'm not sure if I should be happy about it or start puking.

  Chapter 5

  The great object of life is sensation, to feel we exist, even though in pain. ~ Lord Byron.

  I'm startled awake by the chirping of an incoming message at ten o'clock Saturday morning. Not that it's early, but rather I tossed and turned all night thinking and dreaming of one very fine Noah Alexander and fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning. In addition, it didn't help that I Googled him on my phone right before bed. He's a thirty-three year old real-estate genius who's crazy rich and owns more property than God. Just as Claire mentioned, there was a photo of him with Donald Trump, celebrities and several beautiful models in New York, Paris, and California gossip columns. The thing that struck me most was...he wasn't smiling. Not even a fake smile for the pictures...and he wasn't touching any of the bimbos either...not even with his arm around their waist. What's with him on that? I remembered that he had this strange desire to make whatever his before he touched or claimed it. I guess that's his thing--odd, but his thing.

  Yet, the ultimate find was...he is a widower.

  I bolted upright in bed with my heart in my throat as I absorbed his bio. He married at twenty-three to Sarah West of Tallahassee (right after graduating from Yale), but after five years of marriage she died of complications to breast cancer. Shit! Then I remembered his words at the restaurant that his last sub died...his wife. No wonder he was pissed when I asked...he didn't take the sub thing lightly--he loved her. I Googled her name and found a few pictures of her and she was beautiful--long blonde hair, startling blue eyes and Noah...smiling with his arm wrapped around her waist…happy.

  For long moments, I stared at their happiness, digesting the beautiful man's life in words...his face in pictures. Of course, my self-deprecating moment popped into my mind, wondering what he saw in me, but I slammed the door on that fast. He didn't seem to do things lightly and I could claim a smile or two from his beautiful lips, from a man who was stingy with his laugh lines. And we are attracted to each other...so I allowed the moment to ride.

  I flipped into his message (because no one else had my number) and I couldn't wait to read his words.

  *Good Morning Ms. Lourde. I try to imagine what you look like the morning after, but it's too much to envisage so soon. I hope you slept well. Out of another curiosity, what is the name of your impending, possible earth moving date tonight? I only ask because I want to know the name of my competition. --N*

  Oh my, I actually forgot about my date tonight, nice. With everything that happened yesterday, it completely slipped my mind. With Noah Alexander how could I possibly remember anyone else and a smile split my face as I tapped out my reply...

  *Dear Mr. Alexander, I slept well, thank you. I'll leave you to your imagination and comment no further. As for your curiosity and competition, I'm sure you have nothing on Brett Adams, my co-worker. Please don't worry about that. It's just dinner!!!*

  My finger hesitated over the send button, but what the hell--I sent it, hoping he wouldn't explode into a tidal wave of moodiness (as Claire kindly mentioned).

  He responded within five minutes…

  *Good to know I rank higher than a lowly IT tech at your place of employment, Ms. Lourde, otherwise disappointment would have set in. Obviously, I'm fucking annoyed you are still going out with him, but I hope this is the last of your vanilla escapades and you will agree to see me exclusively. --Enamored, but pissed...Noah Alexander*

  Holy shit! Where to start on that? Exclusive? Enamored? Pissed? He knew Brett was an IT tech, how? I'm not even sure I wanted to know--no bounds man after all. Newness settled over me, I've never had anyone jealous over me before. In fact, the sensation was so novel I drowned in the unbelievable. I relished the warm, tingly feeling completely at odds with right and wrong responses. A moth to a flame analogy burned through my mind, but I couldn't care less. There was something freeing about a man wanting me...and a curve of hunger sliced through my heated blood. I wanted more...so much more. I replied…

  *Color me surprised, but enamored so soon? I mean, it's hardly been twenty-four hours, Mr. Alexander. Such a response needs seventy-two hours at least. ;-) But, please be calm in the face of the unknown, I'm sure I'll only think of you. Please ease your response back down to Defcon 5 PS...I hope to see you soon?*

  His response came less three minutes later.

  *I'm at Defcon 1, Ms. Lourde, ready to scramble my fighter jet with full-on war. Be prepared for my own brand of reconnaissance, baby. I'm nothing if not resourceful considering my enchantment. I'm headed for a workout to keep from summoning the nuclear submarines and decimating the guy's balls. Your thoughts of me...settle my overactive imagination.*

  Whoa! I debated on whether or not to respond to his message and decided to let the sleeping dog lie for now. Obviously, he was not exactly happy--understatement much! No need to provoke him further.

  With a sigh, I tossed back the covers and found a note from Claire that she was spending the day with Gary. I missed her. These past couple of months without a Dom for her opened up more girly time between us, shopping, going to the movies and occasional moments of karaoke we both enjoyed. Now, the apartment seemed very empty without her.

  After an hour running on the treadmill with a breakfast consisting of a glass of orange juice, I took a shower, and then wandered into my bedroom. I checked my Sony Ericsson for any new messages from stalker hottie, but found none. Perhaps he was brooding away his misery and honestly, I almost wanted to cancel the date with Brett. My heart was not in it. But, it was just dinner, I reminded myself, yet sheesh, Noah affected my mind. I whiled away the next few hours with a couple loads of laundry and housework with a sandwich for so-called lunch until time for my vanilla date.

  I blew out my hair until straight, runway model worthy (or pretty close) and applied some makeup, paying close attention to my eyes to darken them enough so not to get lost in my pale skin, ending with some neutral lip-gloss. After donning my white, lacy underwear set, I chose a soft pink sundress with my favorite low heeled, but sexy white, strappy sandals.

  After a few shots of my favorite perfume, I glanced in the mirror, and Brett arrived at six-thirty.
He was classically handsome, lanky with dark brown hair dressed in a nice pair of Dockers and white button down with the cuffs turned back over his lean forearms.

  His brown eyes widened and his smile of appreciation evident. "Wow, you look awesome."

  His admiration didn't do anything for me, not even a spark of interest, but I plastered on my best fake smile. "Thanks, Brett. I'll just get my purse." I gathered my bag and tossed my new phone in for good measure, heading out for my date, willing myself not to think about Noah, but I couldn't help it. The man excited me.

  Brett took me too a very nice seafood restaurant, though I'm not a total fish fan--I could eat it, but not my favorite. We settled down with a couple of drinks with my faux smile still in place. I tried desperately to find a common topic, yet my mind wandered many times and I wondered how soon I could leave. But, in the end, all we discussed was work.

  Yeah. His uncle was the owner of the small, independent telecom I worked for and Brett offered cheesy IT tech jokes to fill the time.

  He shrugged after his latest recount of his software genius, saving the company thousands. "Well, when at first you don't succeed, call it version 1.0." He boasted, rattling on about his design structure within the company. Boring.

  I offered a tight laugh, but I couldn't be further from amused. My mind took a hike as our food arrived, grateful for the silence between us as I ate my grilled tuna. Near the end of our meal, my phone buzzed and I about choked on my iced tea and Brett smiled.

  I whipped out my phone.

  *Red, you look hot. Pink is your color...but then again, I'm sure you'd look fabulous in anything...or nothing.*

  Noah was here! Oh my God!

  My lips parted in surprise, my heart rushed up, ramming against my ribs, and my breath caught painfully hard. I quickly scanned the restaurant and found him at the bar all tousled black hair and hooded blue eyes staring a hole straight through me with an irritating smirk on his sculpted lips.

  And dammit, I caught on fire...blazing. My skin prickled with tingly warmth--crap, I'm nearly panting. How could he have such an effect on me? Noah raised his wine glass in salute, almost daring me to respond. Oh, anger pounded hell through me. How dare the man? He took stalking to a completely new level! Bounds or not, he couldn't be that--that controlling!

  "Is something wrong, Reyna? You're flushed."

  Brett's voice pulled me out of model hottie's spell, and I swallowed hard--fake smile in place. "Yes, fine, Brett. Will you excuse me for a moment? I see someone I know and want to say...hello." Well, that was half-true, even if fury thrummed through me, ready for a world-class ass kicking, strappy sandals and all.

  Without waiting for my date's murmur of acceptance, I grabbed my purse and made my way over to Mr. Interfering. Damned if he didn't look hot! He was dressed in dark jeans, white button down untucked with a dark jacket thrown over--so relaxed and beyond sexy. I wanted nothing more than to stop and stare, but quickly remembered my mission, reaching him with a pissed set to my lips.

  The first thing to greet me was his delicious scent I missed...warm, inviting, and fresh...with an underlying musk to tempt my senses into forgiveness. Mind on task!

  "Ah, Mr. Alexander. What a surprise," I said, trying to sound annoyed, but how could I keep a clear head? His beautiful, shard-like eyes burned, unrestrained, lurking with humor. I'm so lost.

  He chuckled, a sensual sound that literally melted me and his smile was a sweet kind of novelty. "Indeed Ms. Lourde," he said, lifting his glass in another toast. "I just stopped in for dinner and imagine my surprise when I found you here." His eyes scanned down my body in an unhurried appraisal making me flush. "You look beautiful."

  Oh my. His voice. I'm instantly aroused and excited by his velvet richness, aching by every account, which was something Brett failed to do. In fact, within one nanosecond, I've forgotten all about my vanilla date--and my anger.

  "Are you stalking me?"

  Noah actually had the audacity to look wounded. "Ouch, Ms. Lourde. I'd like to think of it as pursuing. Big difference." God, he was so playful. "How's the vanilla?"

  I folded my arms. "Delicious," I hissed through clenched teeth.

  He raised a dark brow. "Really? Doesn't look like it to me." He leaned closer and I'm melting--panties and all.

  I swallowed hard, but my mouth was bone dry.

  "You seem rather bored. Forced smile, looking every direction but your date's eyes and probably mentally calculating how much longer you have to endure his presence. Am I right?"

  Damn! He knew. "Even if that were true, it's wrong for you to interfere. I already made this date long before I met you, Mr. Alexander. Besides, Brett may be classic vanilla, but he's pleasant." Okay a small lie, but the irritating smirk on Noah's face deserved a chip or two.

  He scoffed. "Classic vanilla? Try cheap, frozen yogurt with a plastic spoon! The man is all wrong for you, red. You're too much woman for him."

  "Oh? And I suppose you're perfect for me?" Though he may be, I'm not sure how I felt about that.

  His playfulness receded as his face darkened…his eyes blazed feral and deep, reminding me of yesterday. "I know I am," he whispered, his voice all darkness and hard. "Frozen yogurt over there couldn't find his head from his ass--he bores you and insults your beauty, femininity, and intelligence. Give it up, baby--I'm exactly what you need. Admit it."

  He was right--again.

  Noah had the uncanny ability to read me, tapped into the secret part of my core female soul after one day. "Even if all you say is true, I'm still a woman of my word. I would think you would delight in my integrity." I'm on the edge of whine, probably because I've never had anyone truly see me--for me. Most of the time I'm invisible, existing on the day to day--work, home and quiet circle of family and friends.

  His smirk appeared, yet his eyes swirled and twisted with the unknown. "Oh, I am delighting, but he isn't competition and I'm not a team player--not about you," he said and his eyes narrowed. "Act natural, frozen yogurt is on his way over here."

  I whipped around and sure enough, Brett was nearly upon us and I summoned the fake smile.

  "Hey, is everything okay?" Brett asked his gaze wary as his eyes flipped between Noah and me.

  "Yes." I ventured a side-glance at Noah to find him unsmiling, watching me closely. "Brett, this is...my friend Noah Alexander." Of course, super hottie sat closed off with displeasure firming up his lips, giving away nothing.

  Brett nodded. "Hi. Nice to meet you."

  Noah only inclined his head, inhospitable to say the least. God, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

  "Reyna, I'm sorry to cut our evening short, but the server went down at work and Uncle Adams called me in. It may take all night to restore. It looks like it was hit with an outside virus. Shall I drop you home?"

  Before I could answer, out-of-bounds piped up. "I'll take her home," Noah said with clarity and Brett was momentarily stunned by his commanding tone. Who the heck wouldn't be?

  "Is that okay with you, Reyna?"

  Another peek at Noah and I pursed my lips. He seemed to be daring me to refuse him, but honestly, I couldn't. I wanted to spend some more time with him, right or wrong...dangerously so. "Yes."

  Reluctantly, Brett relinquished the end of our date into the hands of an unknown fate and leaned forward to kiss my cheek. Out of the corner of my eye, Noah's jaw jumped in response, and he downed the rest of his wine in a fast gulp, his hand white knuckling on the stem. I wondered if the cheap glass would shatter under the pressure.

  "See you at work, Reyna."

  With my vanilla date over, I shot Noah a shy look.

  "Have a seat, Ms. Lourde," he said tightly.

  I slid up on a barstool next to him, crossing my legs, while placing my small bag before me. "Not to sound forward, but you didn't happen to have anything to do with ending my date, did you?" I'm relieved somehow because Brett wasn't as cute as he appeared on Monday. Well, not next to the mysterious man next to me.

  No
ah smirked. "I'm skilled at many things, Ms. Lourde, but cyber sabotage isn't my thing," he said succinctly, signaling the bartender and ordered two glasses of white wine.

  My lips turned up into a smile and I think he inhaled sharply, but a quick assessment only showed his direct, hot stare. I swallowed hard from his beauty focused solely on me. I'm drowning in his shard-like blue eyes…each time he spoke until he knocked my sex drive up another notch. I tried not to squirm, but impossible.

  "Well, you were pretty adamant I wouldn't date anyone else but you, Mr. Alexander. Perhaps you're gifted with hacker-type minions to do your bidding, while you reap the benefits of a well-executed plan."

  He laughed outright, a warm, gratifying sound full of boyish release, transforming his usual serious face into handsome incarnate. My breath hitched. I'm diverted, dazzled, and caught up in his merriment to the point of infectious. I'm the happiest I've been all evening.

  "I have to remember your quick mind, Ms. Lourde," he murmured, his laughter dying away as he raised his glass to me, leaning forward his seriousness back in place, his eyes burning. "To a new beginning...an evening early. What a surprise."

  "Or luck," I whispered, raising my glass to clink against his and took a sip. Cool, crisp wine slid down my throat in welcome refreshment.

  He frowned. "I don't subscribe to luck, Ms. Lourde. I'm a driven man who controls his own destiny--always have been."

  I tilted my head to the side, willing myself to breathe. "The operative word being control, I believe," I offered with a nervous smile, thinking of his Dom-like persona.

  His smirk re-appeared, his self-assured arrogance back in place, "Yes, well, control is direct power, something I aspire to with utmost skill."

  I raised my glass to him in a toast. "And to fine etiquette that would rival a whole town of vanilla."

  Chapter 6

  I would rather light a candle than curse the darkness. ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

  Surprise lit his beautiful blue eyes, crinkling at the edges. "I can see your memory is equally as sharp, Ms. Lourde." A strange look crossed over his face before he masked it, his eyes direct and hooded.