by Leslie Kelly
“Wow, is right,” a man’s voice said. Glancing toward the door, Venus saw Troy standing there, watching from the hallway.
Surprised, she sucked in a breath. She hadn’t even known he was home yet. Judging by his damp hair and smoothly shaved skin, as well as the crisp, navy suit he wore, he’d been back and getting ready for a while.
He looked amazing. As a woman who’d usually avoided guys in ties and instead dated men in hard hats or leather jackets, Venus didn’t know that she’d ever fully appreciated how utterly perfect a man could look in a suit until she’d met Troy. He was a wicked Cary Grant, a modern Rhett Butler. A man who would look completely at home in a roomful of businessmen, but would secretly make every woman there want to slowly pull off that tie and undo the buttons of his white dress shirt with her teeth.
She was no exception.
Wondering if he was angry she’d opened the package, she gestured at the dress. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said as he strolled into the room. He walked around her, surveying her appearance from head to toe. Then he looked into her eyes. “You look absolutely beautiful, Venus. I figured that color would be great on you.”
“You’re not mad at me for opening it?”
“I knew you would.”
She grinned. “I knew you knew I would.”
Their smiles faded as they stared at one another. This was the first time they’d been face-to-face since Troy had left her bed this morning. Venus understood why he’d gone, but had missed him when she’d awakened. She’d almost needed that awkward morning after to try to get a hint as to where they were going from here. Were they, as he claimed, really lovers? Or would they revert to the tentative friendship they’d begun to form before last night?
“I think I’ll go let Mr. Longotti know you two are ready,” Mrs. Harris replied. Before she left, she took Venus’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Have a wonderful time tonight.”
Venus thanked her yet again, then waited as the woman walked out, leaving her alone with Troy.
“Did Mrs. Harris help you with the makeup too?”
“Yes. Is it okay?” She cast a nervous glance at the mirror.
“Think you can put the lipstick back on by yourself?”
Knowing what he meant, she nodded and tilted her head back for his kiss. His lips touched hers gently, with tenderness she hadn’t expected and wasn’t quite prepared for. He cupped her cheek, then caressed her neck, all while tasting her lips like he’d never kissed her before.
Slipping her arms around his neck, she pressed against him, remembering the way his naked body had felt against hers. He obviously remembered too, and responded by deepening the kiss. Venus nearly whimpered as their tongues met and danced in a lazy, intimate kiss that sent warmth shooting through her body. When they finally parted, she stared into his eyes and whispered, “Thank you again. Can I confess I’m really glad you’re going to be there with me tonight?”
Keeping his arms wrapped around her waist, he raised a brow. “You’re not nervous, are you?”
She shrugged. “Shouldn’t I be? I can’t dance very well, and obviously my food preferences are a little limited.”
“Just don’t spit anything into your napkin,” he said with a teasing laugh. “Besides, you don’t have to try anything you don’t think you’ll like. Plenty of women who go to these things are too worried about their dress or their figures to eat much, anyway.”
Venus cast a horrified glance down at her body encased in the outfit. “Okay, that cinches it—I’m not eating a bite.”
“Babe, you have absolutely nothing to worry about.” He gave her a look that could only be called a leer. “Your figure is perfect. After last night, I should know better than anyone.”
“You knew that better than anyone on Monday. Remember your bathroom? Speaking of which, I haven’t yet had a bath in that sunken tub of yours.”
“Maybe tonight? I can wash your back.” His eyes made it a promise, rather than an invitation. “Or would you rather meet me for another late-night swim?”
“Let’s not limit ourselves. Both sound good.” She pressed another quick kiss on his lips. “Now, I’d better fix my face.”
Troy stayed and watched, leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest as Venus reapplied her kissed-off lipstick. The scene felt surprisingly domestic, and it flustered her. She had to force her attention off his reflection in order to focus on applying her makeup.
“Okay,” she said, squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath. “The imposter is as ready as she’ll ever be.”
He tensed slightly. “Imposter?”
Suspecting he thought she’d been talking about her supposed relationship with Max, she clarified. “You know, the mouthy bartender dolled up as an elegant, sophisticated lady?”
“You’re not an imposter.”
“Yeah, I am. I’ll be a fish out of water tonight, in spite of the fact that I look all…nice. Classy.” She frowned. “Good.”
Stepping closer, until their bodies were just inches apart, he kissed her temple. “Aww, don’t worry honey. You’re not good. You’re just dressed that way.”
She laughed at his reference to her Jessica Rabbit T-shirt.
“So, which is it?” he murmured as he kissed her again, this time on her cheek, close to her hairline. His whisper sent shivers of anticipation through her body as his warm breath touched her skin. “Are you not good? Or are you not bad?”
Swallowing as her senses filled with his closeness, with the amazingly tender way he kissed her face, as if she were the most perfect woman he’d ever seen, she said, “Maybe I’m both?”
He nodded. “Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”
He moved his lips to hers and kissed her lazily, ruining her lipstick again. Not that she cared. When he kissed her like that, so thoroughly and erotically, he was showing her the things he wanted to do with his mouth on other parts of her body.
Finally, she regained her senses and pulled away. “I’m sure Max is waiting, and now I’m going to have to fix my makeup again. You might want to, uh, do some repair work yourself,” she said. Grabbing a tissue, she wiped the traces of mauve off his well-kissed mouth. He nibbled lightly on her fingertip before she could draw her hand away.
“Behave,” she scolded. “We’ve got to leave in a few minutes, and the last thing I need is for you to get me all hot and bothered before we go downstairs to meet Max.”
She should have known better than to offer him such an irresistible temptation to be bad. He took her hand and brought it back up to his lips, kissing her knuckles, then her palm. “As I recall, you owe me some serious foreplay.”
“Stop.” Even to her own ears her voice sounded completely soft and unconvincing.
“We never did do everything I wanted to do last night.”
Remembering some of the things she’d wanted to do, Venus wobbled on her high heels. To get him to stop seducing her with his words, not to mention his mouth, she tried to make a joke. “If I’d done some of the things I wanted to, I would probably have drowned.”
“We were only in the pool the first time,” he whispered as he pulled her hand up to encircle his neck, and leaned close to taste the skin just below her left ear.
“The first time. We…uh…”
He moved his hand to the small of her back, lightly stroking his fingers just above her backside. “Were frantic?”
“Uh-huh,” she managed to whisper.
His leg slipped between hers, given easy access by the slit that bared her thigh almost to the very top. “Insatiable?”
“That too.”
Before she realized what he was doing, he’d flattened his palm and run it down her body, pausing ever so briefly on her breast, before moving down to her stomach. Lower.
She shuddered.
“I needed to be inside you so much that first time, I didn’t get a chance to explore you. To taste you like I wanted to.”
&
nbsp; Closing her eyes, she dropped her head back, picturing what he’d said. Moisture gathered between her legs. She leaned into him for support. “What about the other time?” she managed to ask.
“Wonderful,” he said before kissing the corner of her mouth and nibbling on her lip. “But quieter. Sweeter.”
Yes, it had been. Heartbreakingly tender, slow and delicious. “So,” she murmured as he kissed her jaw, “we’ve done fast and frantic. And sweet and tender. What next?”
He lifted his head to stare down at her, and his answering smile was wickedly anticipatory. “Intoxicating and erotic.”
A myriad of possibilities flooded her brain at that sultry promise. Troy was a sensory man, a deliberate man. A patient and confident man. He’d give his full attention to anything he attempted, in business…or in bed. The spark of heat in his eyes told her last night had merely been the beginning of something intense and mind-blowing. Another burst of lethargic desire spread through her body, warming her belly, loosening her limbs until she felt sure she couldn’t remain standing.
Before she could respond, however, she heard a sound outside the bedroom door. Troy obviously did, too. He smoothly stepped back, just as they heard a knock. Max popped his head in and saw them together. “Almost ready?”
“Absolutely. Please, come in.” Venus busied herself by reaching for the purse that had come with the dress.
“You’re going to be the most beautiful woman there tonight, Venus. Troy, you’re a lucky rascal.”
Venus glanced back and forth between the men. “Troy?”
Max shrugged. “I’m afraid I’ll have other responsibilities and won’t be able to stay by your side all evening. One of which is to arrive an hour early, so I’m on my way now. The car is downstairs. Troy, can you bring Venus and find your way?”
Troy nodded. “Of course.”
“And I don’t want Venus having to fend off all those no-good, lazy playboys at the club. So you’ll stay by her side?”
Straightening his tie, Troy gave Venus an intimate look. “I can promise I won’t let her out of my sight for a minute until she’s back here in this bed, safe and sound.”
And he’d be right here with her. Intoxicating and erotic.
She wondered if Max could sense the current of excitement snapping between them. Not that she worried Max would disapprove of their involvement. In fact, when she thought about it, she had a feeling he wouldn’t mind a bit. In spite of his wealth, Max was a very down-to-earth person, with a sharp wit and a true appreciation for other sharp-minded people. The way he often spoke about Troy had made her realize he liked him very much.
Still, she didn’t want the old gentleman to think badly of her. Her concern had absolutely nothing to do with Leo Gallagher’s demand that she be discreet. Instead, she simply found herself caring about Max’s opinion.
Maybe she was too reckless on occasion. Or, at least, had been when she was younger and hungry to be loved. Maybe so wanting to have a family of her own, to belong to someone, had made her sell herself short when it came to relationships.
But what was happening between her and Troy was different. Because, whether he realized it or not, whether they admitted it aloud or not, in some ways they were two of a kind. They spoke the same language, even though they used completely different words. They had the same drives, though they were on different paths. They’d fallen into a perfect harmony the moment they’d met, though they argued whenever they were together.
They were, she believed, very well matched. Whether that equaled a relationship for a week, or a lifetime, she couldn’t say. Nor, right this minute, did she much care. For tonight, at least, she was going to be Cinderella enjoying the ball. And enjoying what happened when she got back home even more.
How appropriate for a Jersey princess with a checkered past to hook up with a prince charming who was a self-confessed dog.
“Mrs. Harris told me what color dress you were wearing tonight,” Max said. He cleared his throat and tugged at his tie. “I have had these things lying around for years, with no one to wear them. You might get some use out of them.” He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a velvet box, handing it to her. “It’s up to you. If they’re too old-fashioned…”
Seeing what lay inside the box, Venus immediately shook her head and took a step back. She raised her hand, palm out. “I can’t. That stuff probably costs more than I make in a year.”
No way could she wear the dangly emerald earrings and stunning emerald-and-diamond bracelet. Fancy dress and hairdo or not, she was not cut out to wear jewels fit for a princess.
“I’m a walking catastrophe when it comes to jewelry,” she said with a forced laugh. “If I dropped an earring down the sink or lost the bracelet in a punch bowl, I’d never forgive myself.”
“I doubt you’re going to be seeing any punch bowls at the club,” Troy murmured with a wry chuckle.
“I was speaking figuratively,” she snapped.
A knowing, completely understanding smile widened Max’s lips, and his blue eyes held such an expression of tenderness, she nearly cried. “Refuse them if you don’t like them, Venus. But, please, don’t refuse them because you think you’re not worthy.” Placing the box on the table beside the bed, he took her hand and snapped the bracelet onto it.
Seeing that he would not be dissuaded, Venus put one, then the other, of the beautiful dangly earrings on her ears. “Thank you, Max. I promise you I’ll take good care of them. And I’ll return them the minute we get home.”
Max nodded. “I know you will. Just avoid the punch bowl.”
She rolled her eyes at the joke.
“Now, would you mind if Troy or Mrs. Harris took a picture of us together?” the old man asked, sounding slightly unsure of how she’d react. “I’d like to have one…but only if you agree.”
Venus stared at the man, usually so confident and strong. “Of course I don’t mind.” At his look of visible relief, Venus drew in a deep breath. This obviously meant a great deal to Max.
“Thank you again for the use of the jewelry,” she said as he gallantly offered his arm to lead her out of the room.
“They’re as perfect on you as I knew they’d be. Your eyes, just the same…”
Though almost afraid to, she wanted to be sure of what he’d been about to say. “As?”
“As hers,” he replied, his voice soft and reminiscent. A gentle smile softened his craggy features. “As my Violet’s.”
Venus didn’t say another word as they proceeded downstairs.
9
THE COUNTRY CLUB wasn’t all that.
It was okay, Venus decided when they arrived, But no fancier than any four-star hotel in Baltimore. The white columned entrance didn’t seem quite as grand as Max’s house. The chandeliers were normal size, not tremendously ornate. The furniture was standard banquet issue—round tables for eight, padded metal-framed chairs. The food she worked up the nerve to try was pretty good, but the drinks were definitely a little too heavy on the mixer and the ice.
The people, however, were just about what she’d expected. Max introduced both her and Troy as friends from out of town, nothing more. He didn’t clarify that they were friends from different towns, and some people seemed to assume they were a couple. A misconception Troy didn’t go out of his way to correct, she quickly realized. She liked that he didn’t.
They were dressed tastefully and spoke serenely, but Venus couldn’t miss the speculation in the eyes of some of those she met. The wealthy women judged her dress, noted the emeralds and greeted her warmly. The unattached men judged her figure under the dress, noted the absence of a ring, and tried to pick her up. On the few occasions when she found herself alone she came across the typical smooth-talking, flirtatious guys and their sharp-eyed, possessive dates. Seemed like things were pretty much the same with the rich set as they were with the Flanagan’s crowd.
“Having a nice time?” Troy asked as he returned from the bar, carrying a glass of wine f
or her. She was standing near the patio doors, watching the dancers in the center of the tastefully decorated banquet room.
“It’s okay.”
“So far no one’s called you an imposter, have they?”
“The night is still young.”
An anticipatory smile was his only answer. She suddenly knew what he was thinking. Yes, the night was still young, and he’d made some rather suggestive promises about how it would end. Intoxicating. Erotic. She shivered in anticipation.
“Are you chilly?”
“No, fine,” she replied.
“Good, let’s dance.”
She shook her head. “Sorry, dancing’s not one of my strong suits. I’m about as graceful as a clown on roller skates.”
He took her drink from her hand and set it down on a table, along with his own. “Just follow me.”
She remained rooted where she stood. Hiding her absolute terror of going out onto the dance floor in front of all these people, she tried to go on the attack. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I don’t follow any man.”
Taking her arm, he leaned closer. “I know that about you already. Just follow my lead on the dance floor. It’s a legal excuse for me to have you in my arms in front of these people.”
Well, when he put it that way…
Venus caught Max’s eye as she and Troy walked on to the dance floor. He gave her a small nod, still chatting with the club set, who’d given him an award earlier in the evening for some of his charitable work. Another reason to admire the man—apparently, from the glowing remarks of the head of some committee or another, Max had spent a fortune helping to finance a summer youth camp program for underprivileged kids.
“Venus?” Troy asked, waiting patiently for her to step into his arms. She did so, immediately slipping her arms around his neck. He paused, then gently pulled one hand into his, and laced his fingers with hers. The other he placed on his shoulder.
“Look, my dance experience is the type where the girl wraps her arms around the guy’s neck and he plants his on her butt,” she said with a sigh. “Then they rub against each other to the music while they make out and wait for the lights to come up.”