Sinful Paradise (Kimani Hotties)

by Christopher, Ann

  Gloria didn’t trust men.

  The driver, lit by the dome light, cocked his head, waiting.

  “SoHo.” Gloria gave him the full address. “Thanks— Wait, sir.” There was a sudden sharp concern in Gloria’s voice that drew Cooper’s full attention. “You have a growth on your jaw. Back by your ear.”

  “Yeah,” the guy said sheepishly, rubbing the spot, which didn’t look any too good. “I keep meaning to get it checked out. You know how it is. No time with the job and running the kids all over the place.”

  “How long has it been there?” Gloria demanded.

  The guy shrugged. “Six months? A year? I lose track. My annual’s coming up in a few months—”

  “I’m a physician,” Gloria told him. “I’m very concerned about this spot. Very concerned. Please get it checked out first thing Monday.”

  The guy stiffened, then bristled, waving a hand. “It’s nothing. I’ll get to it—”

  Gloria made a dismissive noise. “You don’t have a wife, do you?”

  “How’d you know that?”

  “Because she’d’ve been all over your butt about getting that checked out before now.”

  The driver quieted down, looking disgruntled.

  Gloria, pressing her advantage, reached out and squeezed the guy on the shoulder. “You want your kids to have their father around for a good long time, don’t you?”

  He nodded.

  “Then take care of yourself, okay?”

  Another nod.

  “Monday— What’s your name?”

  “Bruce,” he said dully.

  “Monday, Bruce. No excuses. This is the most important thing you can do right now.”

  Another nod, this time with a half smile, although the poor guy was definitely looking shaky. “Thanks.” Bruce hesitated, taking a deep breath. “Well, I’d better get you folks home, eh?” He hit a button and disappeared behind the smooth whoosh of the glass divider.

  Gloria settled back against her seat and buckled up.

  Cooper watched her, feeling a little dazed as he added brains and compassion to the list of things she had going for her. “Nice work, Doctor.”

  She looked out her window, presenting him with her profile. “Just another day at the office.”

  “Still nice work.”

  She shot him a quick, sad look and kept her voice low. “In another six months, there won’t be much they can do for him. I figure children need their father for as long as possible.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Are you a daddy, Cooper?”

  “Not yet. It’s high on my list, though. I’m not getting any younger.”

  One of her brows arched. “Who is?”

  Here in their private world, he felt as if he should tell her a few things about himself—the kinds of things he normally skimmed over when dating someone new. “I got married right out of college. Lasted a couple years. People call them starter marriages now, but that’s not how I saw it.”

  “What happened?”

  “She didn’t want kids. Or anything else that interfered with her social life and me time.” He paused. “Which meant she didn’t really want a husband.”

  “That’s funny.” Her lips curled into a bleak smile. “My starter marriage ended because my husband didn’t see why he needed to stop screwing other women.”

  “We sure can pick ’em, eh?”

  “Yeah,” she said. Something closed off in her expression as she turned back to her window and stared fixedly out of it. “We sure can.”

  That should have been a good time to keep quiet, but some elusive yet insistent impulse spurred him on. “We need to do much better next time, don’t we, Gloria?”

  She didn’t answer.

  The car finally pulled away from the curb and into the heavy traffic. Cooper rested an elbow on his window and stared at the passing buildings, his entire being divided into two halves. One half reveled in the long stretch of Gloria’s shapely legs, right there within touching distance. He could sense the solid warmth of her body—she smelled like some exotic tropical flower with a mouthwatering hint of coconut thrown in—and the slow rise and fall of her small breasts as she breathed. His other half wondered what had happened tonight to deepen her mistrust of men—Learn from my mistakes, she’d told her sister. He decided that she’d damn sure learn to trust him.

  Which made no sense, right?

  Because this was good news, wasn’t it? She didn’t trust men; ergo, she wasn’t living with someone or engaged and was therefore free to hook up with Cooper. Trust, he knew from long experience, was of marginal importance when it came to hookups. Sure, you had to trust your partner to practice safe sex and give you a few orgasms, but beyond that, who the hell cared? He’d had some of the best sex of his life in situations where trust never even crossed his mind. Things like flexibility, endurance and willingness to experiment had been far more important to him.

  And now...

  “Why’d you leave your own party to take me home?” Gloria asked, startling him.

  He turned to face her, caught in the bright gleam of her eyes and the throatiness of her voice. It took him a couple of long beats to speak, during which she shifted restlessly, uncrossing and recrossing her legs.

  “I wanted to make sure you got home safe,” he finally said.

  Her lips thinned as though she’d expected him to have more faith in her. “I’m a grown woman and a lifelong New Yorker. What could happen?”

  He gave her a lingering once-over that was, when he thought about it later, pretty blatant. “With you? Upset and crying? In that dress?” He shook his head, muttering darkly. “Sky’s the limit.”

  She smiled crookedly and gave her chin a defiant hitch. “True. But it’s my sky and my limit.”

  He stared at her, irritated and not liking the sound of that. “Since you’re not so hot at looking after yourself at the moment, consider me a volunteer to do it for you.”

  “And why would you do that?” she demanded.

  “Because I want to.”

  “Why?”

  Her gaze was direct. Suspicious.

  And maybe a little intrigued, he realized, a discovery that made heat flare across his cheeks.

  Because there was no good answer to her question—none that he was willing to give, anyway—he changed the subject to the topic he knew he’d be wondering about far into the future if he didn’t ask.

  “I don’t want to get into it now. Why were you crying?”

  “That’s an incredibly personal question.”

  “True. But I feel like someone owes me an explanation. I’m taking a beautiful woman home after a party, but I don’t get to sleep with her. My whole universe is out of whack.”

  A flicker of amusement lit her eyes, but she didn’t smile. “I’m grateful for the ride. Sort of. I wasn’t really done drinking for the night, but it’s all good. I have wine at home. So thanks. But my personal life is still none of your business.”

  They’d see about that, he thought sourly.

  “Where’s your date, anyway?” she asked.

  He frowned. “Isn’t that a personal question? Did you change your mind about conversation topics already?”

  “If your personal life is also off-limits, I’m sure you’ll say so. But that wasn’t really a personal question, was it? It’s more logistics.”

  She had him there; he wasn’t about to start throwing up boundaries between them, especially when she was already doing such a great job at it.

  “I’m not dating anyone right now. Why’re you looking at me like that?”

  Her brows had shot up. “You’re so full of it. Men are always with someone. And they usually have someone else on speed dial, so don’t bullshit me. I’m speaking from painful ex
perience.”

  “I’m not bullshitting you. I’ll never bullshit you.”

  She turned her cool profile to him and looked out her window. “It doesn’t matter whether you are or not. We’ll probably never see each other again after tonight anyway.”

  “Oh, we’ll see each other again,” he said. “I promise you that.”

  That brought her head back around in a hurry.

  They stared at each other for one hard pregnant moment that ended only when she wavered and looked away first, which he considered a victory. A small victory, since he wasn’t sleeping with her tonight, but he’d take what he could get.

  She shifted with restless energy, then leaned forward and reached for the minibar. “Is there anything to drink in this expensive—? Oh, good. Vodka. Not my favorite, but I’ll take it.”

  “Haven’t you had enough for tonight?”

  “Not even close,” she said flatly.

  “Great,” he said, watching her reach for a crystal tumbler. “Help yourself. The thing to remember when you’ve finished puking your guts out in the morning is that you need three raw eggs chased with a full tablespoon of hot sauce. People always try to skimp on the hot sauce. If you follow my directions, you should feel human again by noon or so.”

  She looked at the tumbler in her hand, gave the vodka one last lingering glance, then slammed it back down, closed the minibar door and, with a disgruntled huff, leaned back against the seat and resumed her moody staring out the window.

  Another small victory for him, he thought with grim satisfaction.

  They rode in silence for a minute or two. Traffic was bad tonight, meaning he had plenty of time to watch the way passing lights flickered over her cheekbones...her shapely shoulders and arms...the gentle curves of her breasts...the delicious gleam of her skin.

  His blood felt as if it was heating and thickening, slowly spreading desire to every corner of his body.

  “So why aren’t you dating anyone?” she quietly asked after a while.

  He waited, saving his answer until she hesitantly—reluctantly—turned her gaze back to his. He saw the subtle increase in the rise and fall of her breasts.

  “I have my eye on someone.” If the telltale huskiness in his voice didn’t give him away, the way he was looking at her surely would. He was calling on every ounce of self-control to stop himself from reaching for her. “I’ll let her know when the time is right.”

  She stared at him.

  Several beats passed.

  Time may have stopped.

  “And when will that be?” she asked.

  He shrugged, his face hot. “Up to her.”

  She tried to smile, but only one corner of her mouth lifted. “Men aren’t known for their patience.”

  “You don’t know everything about men, Gloria. And some things are worth waiting for.”

  “And this woman is?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She hesitated. Blinked. Opened and shut her mouth. Tried again. “And what do you see in this woman, pray tell?”

  That was easy.

  “Everything.” He paused. “I wish she saw it, too.”

  She immediately seemed to regret asking the question. Some of her bravado crumpled and fell with her expression. Her chin trembled, forcing her to press her lips together. He was just beginning to wonder if he’d made her cry again when her phone pinged.

  With a quick swipe at her eyes, she fished it out of her beaded bag, looked at the display and hissed— actually bared her teeth and made a sound like a striking snake.

  Alarmed, he gave up all pretext of being a polite human being, craned his neck and read her private text, praying she wouldn’t notice. Luckily, she was too focused on Aaron’s words to see what he was doing. Aaron. Now he knew who his enemy was.

  I’m sorry, baby, it said. Are you home? If I can get away, I want to see you so we can talk.

  Through the red haze of his sudden anger, Cooper tried to piece together the whole picture.

  It was now—he checked his watch—twelve-thirty, and Aaron, who hadn’t taken this incredibly sexy woman to the gala and had also made her cry, now wanted to show up at her crib, for talking. Talking. Which Cooper knew, as all men did, was code for booty call.

  So...

  Aaron was either married, or he was the stupidest punk to ever climb out of the primordial ooze and walk on two legs—probably both.

  Either way, Cooper wanted to rip the man’s throat out for putting that look of despairing rage on Gloria’s face.

  What the hell was he supposed to do now? He opened his mouth, hoping inspiration was on its way.

  “Gloria,” he began.

  She lowered her window just as the car rolled to a stop at a light. Without a word, she threw her cell phone out the window with all her might. It connected with the sidewalk, and Cooper saw it splinter into several pieces before the window whooshed back up and the car started moving again.

  Astonished, he watched as she wiped her hands together as though she was getting rid of chalk dust, leaned toward the minibar again and reached for the vodka.

  This time he didn’t try to stop her as she poured herself a drink.

  * * *

  By the time they pulled up to her brownstone on a quiet tree-lined street ten minutes later, she’d downed about three fingers of vodka and he’d helped himself to the bourbon, which meant that neither of them was feeling any pain. Unless you counted his raging hormones, which felt as though they were poisoning his judgment way more than the liquor was.

  Still, he was determined to do the right thing tonight.

  Assuming he could remember what that was.

  He opened the door and climbed out, catching Gloria’s warm hand and helping her out after him. The light breeze felt refreshingly cool against his overheated face, but nowhere near as good as the slide of her soft palm against his. And then she was out of the limo, a little unsteady in her spiky heels, and there was nothing else for him to do but hang on to her, his hands low on her supple hips, and make sure she didn’t stumble.

  Jesus.

  His breath and his heart met in his throat, nearly choking him with lust. There was no way his lungs could function when she was this close—when all he had to do was contract his arms and she’d be fully up against his body, and a simple lowering of his chin would connect his mouth to hers.

  And she was willing. More than willing. Her fragrant body was alight beneath his fingers, a living flame ready to be stoked and stroked into an inferno. Her raspy breath singed his neck, and when she spoke, her lips whispered across his skin.

  “You want me.”

  A shaky laugh. To keep himself from kissing her mouth, after which he knew he’d be lost, he pressed his lips to her forehead.

  “Yeah. I want you.”

  She eased closer. “You can have me,” she said urgently.

  “I will have you,” he promised her. “Just not tonight. I’m not down with being used so you can forget some other man who doesn’t deserve you anyway. Or taking advantage of women who’ve had too much to drink. But I don’t want you to have any questions about it—I plan to take you up on that offer.”

  Gloria didn’t like this. She snatched her body free, taking heaven with her and leaving him empty-handed and agitated.

  “You’re assuming the offer will be open after tonight,” she snapped over her shoulder as she hurried up the steps to the front door.

  Great, he thought, scrubbing a hand over his face in frustration.

  Now he’d offended her.

  Her strides were long, but his were longer. He caught up with her just as she unlocked the door, which was heavy and ornate with beveled glass, and put his hand over hers on the brass knob.

  “Gloria,” he tried.

&nb
sp; She looked down at his hand engulfing hers, her muscles tense.

  He reluctantly pulled his hand away.

  “Thank you for bringing me home,” she said formally, not looking at him. “You’re a good guy.”

  “No, I’m not. I just don’t want to see regret in your eyes when you look at me.”

  Her gaze flickered up to his then, so glittering and bright it was like looking into the heart of the universe. Tears gleamed in her brown eyes and fringed her thick lashes, and his breath caught when her expression softened into a near smile.

  “No regrets.” Those amazing eyes crinkled at the corners. “That’d be a nice change for me.”

  “Good to hear.” Reaching out, he rubbed his thumb under her eye, catching one of her tears and sucking it into his mouth. She watched him, gasping quietly. “’Cause I’m already regretting not throwing you over my shoulder and taking you upstairs.” He sighed harshly. “I really regret it. I’d have you naked by now, in case you were wondering.”

  She grinned and dropped her gaze, blushing, and the contrast between this Gloria and the sad one of ten seconds ago was dizzying.

  “You don’t know,” he said on a shaky laugh, running his fingers through his hair and ruffling it, determined to keep his hands occupied so he wouldn’t reach for her again. “You have no idea.”

  A line grooved down her forehead. “What?”

  “How beautiful you are. How much I’ve wanted you since the second I saw you.”

  “Tonight?”

  “No.” He paused, giving this information time to sink in. When her eyes widened, he continued. “The second I met you.”

  She slowly shook her head. “I didn’t know.”

  “Now you do.”

  They stared at each other, the door still open between them, her hand still on the knob.

  His gaze drifted to her lips. They were lush and dewy, things of beauty to be kissed, licked and savored, and he wanted to taste them. Really wanted to taste them.

  Breathless, she tipped her chin up, her eyes closing.

  He drifted closer, his lids feeling heavy, as though he’d been drugged, and his hands started to come up to hold her face between his hands.