by Opal Carew
“I don’t need gifts . . .”
“I don’t mean gifts. I mean someone who cares about you. And appreciates you.” He guided her to Evan, who drew her close. “And both of us do.”
“It’s true,” Evan said, then he kissed her, too.
She melted against him, gliding her tongue inside his mouth and coiling it with his. When he released her, they were both sucking in air.
“I think we should take you out to dinner,” Blake said. “Right now, before we take you right here in the salon.”
She stroked her hand through Evan’s beard, loving the coarse feel of the dense whiskers, imagining them gliding up her inner thigh right now.
“Is that a problem?” she asked.
Evan chuckled. “Only that we have reservations in twenty minutes and it’ll take fifteen to get to the restaurant.”
Blake tipped her chin toward him and kissed her. “Not that the restaurant wouldn’t hold our table, but we have a surprise for you.”
Chapter Seven
“So what’s this surprise you have for me?” Danni asked as they sat in the back of the limousine heading to the restaurant.
“I told you,” Blake said patiently, “it’s a surprise.”
“I can’t imagine what it could be. You’ve already given me an abundance of gifts. Any more would be too much.”
“I don’t know if I agree with that,” Evan said, “but it’s not a gift.”
The driver pulled up in front of Alana’s, an elegant restaurant she knew Mom and Jerrold often talked about.
“I’m not really dressed for such a fancy place,” she protested, her fingers toying with the hem of her blouse.
“Don’t worry about it,” Evan said. “I guarantee they won’t turn us away.”
The driver opened the door and she got out of the car, followed by Evan and Blake. Evan’s arm slid around her as they walked to the front door.
They must look an odd sight. Her in jeans and a secondhand blouse and the two men in expensive business suits. As they walked into the posh entryway, with dark wood paneling, crystal lamps, and heavy glass doors with brass handles, she wondered why they weren’t embarrassed to be seen with her like this. Jerrold would have made it very clear she was out of place.
She caught her reflection in the smoky mirrors along the wall of the entryway and realized she still had the ruby-and-pearl collar on. With the expensive necklace on, her outfit looked grungy-chic.
A staff member opened the door for them and once they were inside, a man in a black suit smiled at them.
“Ah, Mr. Swift, Mr. Hawkins. So nice to see you. Your table is ready. Please follow me.”
He led them through the softly lit restaurant to an area in the back with fewer tables and a quieter ambience. There were only a couple of empty tables there, but the host led them toward two men already seated at a table for six.
The men stood up as they approached, their gazes turning to her.
The host pulled out her chair and she sat down, looking at Evan and Blake questioningly.
“Danni, this is Marcus and Rhett.”
She turned to the men and smiled. “Rhett, like Rhett Butler?”
“Yes. My grandmother was a great fan of Gone with the Wind, so my parents named me that in her honor.”
“That’s very nice.”
Rhett was a tall, good-looking man with dark blond hair so long he’d tied it behind his head. His brown eyes sparkled and he was sinfully sexy. He wore a stylish suit that was clearly an expensive cut.
Marcus, on the other hand, wore jeans—though she could tell they were a designer label—that fit his long, muscular legs and trim waist perfectly. His casual shirt was open at the neck, giving a glimpse of vines tattooed up his chest and curling along his neck and behind his ears. His black hair was cropped close to his head. She imagined if she ran her hand over it, it would feel like coarse stubble. He also had a pierced ear that was stretched with one of those wide inserts, so it made a large hole in his earlobe. He was muscular and laid back, but she could tell there was an alertness about him, as if he was ready to lurch into action in a split second.
“And your name’s Danni,” Marcus said. “I like it. It suits you.”
“Because it’s a boy’s name and I work in construction?” she asked.
She didn’t know if Evan and Blake had told them what she did for a living, but she wasn’t going to hide it, so she might as well get it out there right now.
Marcus shrugged. “Sure, I suppose. But you decide what people call you. If you wanted to be called Danielle, I have no doubt you wouldn’t put up with them calling you anything else. It’s clear you know your own mind and you don’t take guff from anybody.”
“Like if someone called you Marc,” Evan said.
“Got that right,” Marcus said. He turned back to Danni. “I grew up in construction. Got lucky and made it big. So people say. But it’s not really so much luck as I’ve got mad business skills. I’m not as rich as these nobodies”—he jerked his head toward Evan and Blake—“but I do all right for myself. Even if I didn’t, I think putting in a good day’s work building something with your own two hands”—he smiled, which set his amber eyes ablaze—“that’s what it’s all about.”
“So, the pep talk from Marcus aside,” Blake said, “the reason we asked Rhett and Marcus here is to give you practice socializing with rich society people in a friendly environment.”
Marcus snorted. “I’m no rich society dick, but I’ve got money and people hang on my words like I’m a goddamned celebrity. And they invite me to fancy-assed parties in order to talk me out of my money.”
“Marcus and Rhett will be at the gala, too, so you’ll have some friendly faces there,” Evan said.
“And if you need us to act like interested suitors,” Rhett said, his eyes twinkling, “we’ll be happy to.”
Embarrassment flickered through her at the realization that Evan and Blake had guessed why her mother was insisting she go to this party, but it faded when Rhett reached for her hand and lifted it, then turned it over and pressed his lips to the pulse point on her wrist. The feel of his delicate whisper of a kiss sent tingles racing along her spine.
“Yeah, we’ll be happy to fend off the men your mother wants to foist on you,” Marcus said.
Then his gaze swept down her body, brushing over her breasts, then back to her face. The thought of his large hands, which were calloused and clearly saw a hard day’s work regularly, set her heart aflutter.
God, Marcus wasn’t what she’d expected when she thought of the elite people who would attend a fundraiser like the one this Friday. He came from modest roots, just like her. But then, he had money behind him and no one would argue with that. But he also had balls. He apologized to no one for who he was.
Was that the message Blake and Evan wanted her to learn?
The waitress brought a plate of appetizers, which Rhett and Marcus had ordered ahead of time, then took their orders.
“Okay, so let’s get this started,” Rhett suggested. “Danni, you’ve been introduced to Marcus and me and we’re all standing with drinks in our hands. What do you do?”
“Well, I say hello and I guess I ask what you do.”
“Marcus tells you he’s in construction and I say I run a mutual fund.”
“I’d ask Marcus what kind of construction.”
Marcus’s lips turned up in a predatory smile. “And I’d say that if you’re really interested, I could take you to my latest project and show you. It’s a huge skyscraper downtown with a stunning view of the city. Or if heights aren’t your thing, there’s always the five-million-dollar mansion I constructed last year, with a pool surrounded by natural rocks, complete with waterfall. It’s very secluded, so”—he smiled broadly—“skinny dipping is not out of the question.”
“You’re coming on a little strong, Marcus,” Blake said with an edge to his deep voice.
“No stronger than any one of these Don Juans will when
they see this delightful treat of a woman.”
“Instead of asking what they do,” Rhett interjected, “why don’t you steer the conversation to interests? What do you like to do in your spare time?”
She wrapped her fingers around her drink. “I don’t have a lot of spare time, but I like to stay active. I hike, run, and swim whenever I can.”
Marcus chuckled. “Swim, eh? See, I would have gotten somewhere there.”
Her cheeks blossomed in heat as she remembered that that’s exactly what had happened with Blake and Evan. They’d invited her back for a swim and she’d wound up having sex with them in the pool.
“What else?” Blake asked.
She could see in his gaze that he was remembering the same thing.
“I don’t know. I like building things.”
“What kind of things?” Rhett asked.
“I built an entryway table for my town house. And I sometimes build bookshelves for my friends.”
“You’re good with tools,” Marcus said. “I like that.”
“That’s great, Danni,” Evan encouraged. “But what else?”
“I like to paint.”
“That’s good,” Evan said. “A lot of these people like to talk about art.”
“Oh, no. I mean I like to paint walls and furniture. I like to experiment with textured surfaces. And I refinish old furniture.” She grabbed her phone and swiped through the pictures. “I fixed an old, plain white bookshelf for a friend and painted it in a faux oak finish. See?” She held up the picture to show them.
“That’s not real oak?” Rhett asked. “That’s amazing.”
“What about books?” Marcus asked. “What do you like to read?”
She pursed her lips. “I’m not sure they’d be interested in that. Mostly, I like to read fantasy and science-fiction romance that’s . . . erotic.”
Marcus grinned. “You’re my kind of woman.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You like romance?”
“I like science fiction. And fantasy. And if it’s erotic, I can put up with a bit of romance.”
“Talking about cars wouldn’t work, I assume,” Rhett said.
“What do you drive, Danni?” Marcus asked.
“Usually I drive an old Chevy Impala that my dad had for years, but in the nice weather, I drive an old Harley-Davidson.”
“You’re shitting me,” Marcus said.
“My dad bought it at a police auction a long time ago and kept it up pretty well. When he died, I kept working on it and I’ve managed to keep it going.”
“That’s fucking awesome,” Marcus exclaimed. “You seem more my type of woman all the time.” He leaned back in the chair. “I have an old motorcycle I’m rebuilding. Maybe you could come over and work on it with me sometime.”
“Marcus, are you really hitting on Danni?” Rhett asked.
“Why not?” He glanced at Blake and Evan. “Are one of you two going out with her?”
Evan glanced her way, his green eyes assessing, and she gazed back nervously, wondering what he’d say.
“No,” Blake answered.
Danni’s heart sank. This thing with Blake and Evan had started as a casual fling but she’d started to think there was more to what they all shared. She’d started to think that maybe they’d have a shot at something more. But from their response, either they were embarrassed to admit they’d date a construction worker, or they weren’t really interested.
“You know, we’re trying to figure out what you should talk about with these people,” Marcus said, “but why don’t you just be yourself and to hell with them?”
“Because I don’t want to embarrass my stepfather.”
“Why? What the hell has he done for you lately?”
“He makes my mother happy.”
Marcus leaned forward. “Okay, well, then here’s what you do. Is the dress you’ll be wearing low-cut?”
“Yes, it is,” Evan answered.
“Good, then if you get uncomfortable talking with someone, just pretend you notice something on your skirt and lean forward to brush it away. I guarantee when you stand up, any guy will have forgotten what he was saying.”
“And if she’s talking to a woman?” Rhett asked.
“Her mother wants her there to meet men, so she’ll probably ensure Danni’s dragged around to every eligible bachelor there.” He turned back to Danni. “And if that doesn’t work, just say that you like the song the band is playing. The guys will fall all over themselves asking you to dance.”
“I think I’m getting more nervous, not less,” Danni admitted.
A big smile claimed Marcus’s lips. “No worries. Here, give me your phone.”
When she handed it to him, he tapped in his number.
“I’ll be watching out for you, but if you get uncomfortable in any situation, just text me and I’ll come over.”
He smiled, a devilish, knock-your-socks-off, sexy smile.
“While we’re at it, why don’t you give me your number, too? Just in case I need to find you at the party.”
She gave it to him, aware of Blake’s tight-set jaw and the disapproving glint in his eyes. Then she and Rhett exchanged phones for the same purpose.
Their dinner arrived, and while they ate, the men told her about some of the people who would probably be at the party and suggested topics she could discuss. After the meal, she said good-bye to Rhett and Marcus at the door, then Blake and Evan’s driver opened the back door of the limo.
She climbed in and Blake and Evan settled in beside her. She relaxed in the seat as the car started forward.
“Thank you for the lovely day,” she said, “and all the gifts.”
“You’re welcome,” Evan said. “But the day isn’t over yet.”
“It’s not?”
“We were hoping you’d come back to the penthouse for a drink,” Blake said.
Her fingers glided along the pearls of her necklace. “That would be nice.”
She knew they didn’t really mean a drink. She also knew it meant she’d get very little sleep tonight, and six a.m. came pretty early. But she didn’t care. She’d give up sleep—and a lot of other things—for a chance to be with these two men.
When they led her into the penthouse, she slipped off her shoes, and as soon as she stood up, Blake’s arms slid around her. His kiss was hard and demanding. His tongue swept into her mouth, claiming her with passion.
Evan stepped behind her, his body close, his hands resting on her shoulders. As soon as Blake released her lips, Evan turned her chin and claimed her mouth. Her body was half-turned toward him, still between both men. When Evan released her lips, Blake took her arm and guided her into the living room, Evan at her other side.
“You seemed to enjoy Marcus’s company,” Blake said, his blue eyes serious.
“Both Marcus and Rhett were nice. It’s good to know I can call on them at the party,” she said.
“But Marcus and you have a lot in common. Are you interested in going out with him?” Evan asked.
She frowned. Clearly, they were jealous, yet they hadn’t admitted any interest in her when Marcus asked. What was she supposed to think?
She drew away from them. “Before I answer that question, let me ask one of my own.”
Chapter Eight
Danni sat down in an armchair and glanced at them to ensure she had their attention. They both sat on the couch facing her.
“What is it?” Blake asked.
“Where do you see this going between us?”
“The three of us? That depends on what you want,” Blake said.
“So you’re throwing it back at me.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to guess. When we were at dinner, Marcus asked the two of you outright if we were involved and you said no. I assume that means I’m just a casual fling.”
“He asked if one of us was seeing you,” Blake corrected. “And the answer to that is no. We’re both seeing you.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t going to tell him
that because I didn’t want to embarrass you. I saw how you were looking at Evan when Marcus asked the question. You looked nervous, so I guessed you didn’t want anyone to know that the three of us are an item.”
She hesitated as that sank in. “I guess that makes sense.”
“Whatever this is between us,” Blake said, “it’s more than a fling. I don’t think we need to define it—it’s only been a couple of days—but I don’t want it to end yet.”
“You don’t?” She glanced at Evan and he nodded in agreement. Her heart raced. “I don’t want it to end, either.”
But she realized that what she wanted from the relationship was probably more than what they wanted. What she wanted wasn’t really viable. Being with two men. Falling in love with two men.
Evan laughed and stood up, then pulled her to her feet. “Whatever we’ve got going on is amazing and wildly sexy, so let’s not waste any more time talking about it. Let’s get on with enjoying it.”
“No,” Blake said firmly.
Both Evan’s and Danni’s heads jerked toward him in shock.
Oh, God. It didn’t matter that he’d just said he didn’t want this to end. Her stomach furled into knots, in fear that he had just decided that she wasn’t worth the trouble after all.
He stood up, his face stern, and walked toward her.
Was he going to tell her to leave?
“The fact is,” he said in a deep, authoritative voice that washed over her senses like warm velvet, “you flirted shamelessly tonight, which was very disrespectful to Evan and me.”
She shivered, confused by his demeanor.
“That’s true,” Evan said, but a smile curled his lips.
Blake held out his hand to her. Although his face was still stern, his eyes held a glimmer of a smile.
“Now, young lady, I think we should punish you.” The last four words were spoken in a deep, husky tone.
Every nerve ending in her body seemed to spark at the same time as excitement flared within her.
She rested her hand in his and he drew her to her feet.
“What kind of punishment?” she asked nervously.
Blake chuckled. “That’s not for you to question.”