Taste Me: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Temptation Series Book 3)

by Kally Ash

  Her mom reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it lovingly. “Honey, that’s fantastic. Really amazing.” She wiped a tear from her eye and smiled. “So proud of you.” She turned to her dad. “Aren’t we, dear? We’re so proud of our girl.”

  Her father nodded. “I thought you were never going to progress,” he muttered, and the backhanded compliment stung. He may have been proud, but he sure as shit wasn’t going to throw confetti or tweet about it... not that he knew what tweeting was. He probably thought it was some new dance craze like The Twist or The Pony. “I’m happy I was wrong.”

  Wow, don’t go overboard there, Pops. Bobbing her head in acknowledgement, she picked up her menu to start looking at what she’d like to order. She’d been waiting for this moment for how long, and when it finally came, she had no idea how to accept the barely there praise from her father. It had barely gotten a reaction out of him other than stern annoyance and thinly veiled contempt, but it was a reaction all the same.

  She wasn’t willing to give that up so quickly. It was true that she hadn’t accepted the promotion, but she didn’t want to spoil this moment by telling him that she didn’t think she wanted to pursue law anymore.

  She stilled, the thought flawing her for a moment.

  Is that what she wanted, to give up law completely? As she rolled the idea around in her head, she wasn’t having a knee-jerk fuck that reaction. If anything, she was calm and almost... content with the decision. She looked up to see her father watching her and he smiled. She returned the gesture. Yep, she was not telling her father anything. She was going to keep her mouth shut and enjoy this praise while it lasted.

  “Are you going to get that?” Jessica asked, leaning over to speak to her in private.

  Natasha blinked. “Sorry? What?”

  She pointed down to her handbag. “Your phone is ringing.”

  It is? “It is?”

  Jess nodded, then said, “Congratulations on the promotion.”

  “Thank you,” she said absently, leaning over to ferret through her bag. Flipping her phone over so she could see the screen, she didn’t recognize the number, but if it was a choice between sitting at this table and busying herself with something else, she would take the ghosting option.

  “Will you excuse me,” she announced to nobody in particular. “I have to take this.”

  She answered the call saying, “Give me a minute. I need to step outside.” Once the door shut the swell of noise out behind her, she said, “Hello? Natasha Fraser speaking.”

  “Natasha,” a deep voice said, and she cursed.

  “How did you get my number?” she demanded.

  Of course, John only laughed. “I looked you up.”

  “No, you didn’t. My personal number isn’t listed.”

  “Then I acquired it by magic.”

  “Jerk,” she said under her breath, a giant smile on her face. No, she shouldn’t be smiling. “What do you want?”

  “Are you always this pleasant on the phone?”

  “Just with you,” she retorted, leaning back against the wall of the restaurant as she listened to him laugh. “Why are you calling me, John?”

  “I wanted to see what you were doing.”

  Oh, you know, drinking myself into a stupor because I can’t stand the look of disappointment in my father’s eyes. Oh! And lying to him too. That was what she wanted to say but not what she said.

  “I’m celebrating my brother’s engagement.”

  “Wow. That’s amazing. Tell him congrats.”

  “He doesn't know you. Why would I tell him that?” she shot back with a grin.

  John chuckled. “Wow, you are such a bitch.”

  “Yeah, I am, but you’re still talking to me.”

  “I am,” he agreed softly.

  She sucked in a breath, knowing that the conversation must be drawing to a close.

  “Well,” she prompted. “I guess I’ll just—”

  “Come and have a drink with me,” he blurted out.

  “John—”

  “It’s not a date or anything. It’s just a drink. Hell, if you wanted to make it less date-ish, we could discuss the plans for the orphanage.”

  “That’s not a word.”

  “What isn’t? Orphanage?”

  She smiled. “Date-ish.” She was about to shut him down good and hard, but then she thought about what was waiting for her at that table. She couldn’t stand sitting there for another two hours faking how great her life was, pretending that her father actually gave a damn about her. “You know what? Let’s do it. This dinner is as boring as watching paint dry. Where?”

  “My hotel?”

  “You’re at the Beverly Hilton, right?”

  “Right.”

  Given how many martinis she’d already consumed, an Uber was definitely the way to go. “I’ll see you in about an hour.”

  Hanging up, she strode back into the restaurant and back to the table.

  “Everything alright, honey?” her mom asked.

  “Kind of,” she replied. Turning to Mitch and Jess, she said, “I’m sorry to do this to you—”

  “But you have to go. I get it.”

  She nodded. “Congrats again. Jessica, it was lovely to meet you.” Leaning over, she gave her mom a kiss on the cheek. “It was great seeing you, Mom.” She gave her dad a small wave, then picked up her bag and got the hell out of there.

  Fifteen

  John dropped his phone on the bed and smiled. She was coming to have a drink with him. Stripping out of his business shirt, he dumped it in the corner of his room. His pants joined his shirt and then he was stepping into the shower. He had an hour to get ready, which should be plenty of time since he wasn’t a woman and didn’t need to wash his hair or shave his legs.

  He was nervous though.

  Butterflies-in-the-stomach nervous.

  But he had no idea why.

  Stepping from the glass and marble stall, he toweled off, spent a few minutes more than normal shaving his cheeks, chin, and jaw, then went back into the room to dress. It was less of a room and more of a suite though. There was a sitting room through the doorway to his right and a small office area where he’d set up his temporary workspace.

  Sliding into a pair of jeans and a button-up silk shirt, he took some time to do his hair, then slipped on his shoes. He glanced at the clock.

  Great. He’d only killed about forty minutes.

  Picking up his wallet from the table near the door, he grabbed the swipe key and left his room. Down the elevator. Into the lobby.

  He’d told Natasha he’d meet her at the bar since it was an open space with no dark corners, and it seemed to be busy all the time. And tonight was no different. Although given that it was a Friday night, he wasn’t surprised. He strolled to the mood-lit bar and asked for a beer. He took a seat at the bar but turned around so he could see when Natasha walked in. He was so looking forward to seeing her again. It had only been a few days since that initial meeting, but he couldn’t wait to sit with her again and discuss things.

  That hadn’t been a line. He was willing to talk about the orphanage with her, but he hoped that they wouldn’t. Reaching around for his beer, he was about to take a sip but slowly lowered it from his mouth just as Natasha walked into the room. Every guy’s head turned in her direction and he wanted to take a baseball bat to each and every one of their groins, but he hung tight because he wasn’t a Neanderthal and waited for her to catch his eye.

  As she walked toward him, he drank in the sight of her in a skin-tight black dress with matte black heels. Her red hair was cascading over her shoulders and probably down her back too. Her mouth was scarlet. Her eyes were smoky and the smirk on her face let him know he’d been busted checking her out. The thing was, he’d seen her naked, but seeing her dressed as she was now was more exciting because everyone enjoys unwrapping a present.

  “You look hungry, John,” she said as she reached him.

  He opened his mouth to say som
ething witty, something that would make her laugh, but his tongue had clearly packed up and gone on vacation.

  Reaching down, she took the bottle of beer out of his hand and placed it back on the bar. “I wouldn’t want you spilling that on me... again,” she told him with a wink, sliding onto the seat beside him with a graceful ease he associated with a dancer rather than a lawyer.

  “What can I get you, ma’am?” the bartender asked, his eyes roving not just on her face. John spun around and wrapped a possessive hand around her nape, glaring at the guy. Natasha either hadn’t noticed (unlikely) or didn’t care.

  “A dirty martini. Two olives.”

  As the bartender walked away, she brushed John’s hand aside but didn’t rebuke him. He took a sip from his beer, carefully placing it down onto the cocktail napkin.

  “So why did you decide to meet me?”

  She turned her head toward him, her green eyes unreadable. “You asked me to.”

  Shaking his head, he replied, “I asked you, but you didn’t have to say yes. In fact, I was banking on the fact that you were going to say no.”

  At his admission, a smug smirk turned up her mouth and his cock punched out against his fly. Sinful. That’s what her mouth was.

  Straight up.

  Sinful.

  He felt like he should go confess after this.

  Turning his attention to his beer bottle, he slipped his nail under the edge of the label and started to lift it carefully.

  “I came because I wanted to, John. I—Oh, thank you. Just charge it to his room.” With her martini glass held high, she murmured, “Thanks for the drink.”

  He cleared his throat. “You were saying?”

  She swallowed her mouthful of liquor and lowered the glass to the bar. Her lips pressed together as she cocked her head to the side and studied him. “I’ll tell you all about the reasons why.”

  “You will?”

  She nodded. “Once I get a few more drinks under my belt.” She got right to it, tipping the rest of the liquor down her throat and then picked up the end of the cocktail stick piercing the olives and started eating them.

  “Can we get another two martinis and a Bud?” he called out to the bartender. The guy nodded and John scanned the room, spotting one of the plush table sets freeing up. Grabbing Natasha’s hand, he took her over to the empty table and sat her down in one of the velvet chairs. She squirmed in the seat, her elbows resting on the high arms.

  He sat down opposite her, his shins brushing the edge of the low round table between them. It was darker over here, with fewer people taking any notice of them.

  When their drinks arrived, he said to the bartender, “Can we keep the martinis coming every thirty? I’d suggest an IV, but I don’t think you’re that well equipped.”

  The guy gave him a strange look but ended up nodding and wandering back to his post.

  “So, tell me why you came—other than I asked you to.”

  Natasha’s face hardened for a moment before her expression smoothed, almost like she’d had a distasteful thought and then wiped it away just as quickly.

  “Do you know where I was before coming here?”

  “You said you were out at a family dinner celebrating your brother’s engagement.”

  She bobbed her head and pulled the olives from her drink, then submerged them again. “Family,” she started, then laughed sardonically. “My family isn’t your typical family.”

  “In what way?”

  “My grandfather on my father’s side was a supreme court judge. Both my parents are lawyers. My brother is currently at law school…”

  She drifted off and John gave her the space she clearly needed. Sitting back in his chair, he nursed his beer, waiting for Natasha to open up a little more. She finished off her martini and reached for the one waiting for her on the table. After drinking half the glass, she let out a breath and looked at him, her eyes uncharacteristically unfocused. He had a feeling he was seeing a side to her that she rarely let show.

  “Are your parents proud of you?” she asked.

  John frowned but said, “I assume so.”

  “Tell me about them?”

  Blowing out a breath, he took a sip from his beer. “My mom is a homemaker. She had a job, but she stayed home after I was born. When I went to school, she started volunteering at various charities around San Diego.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “Dad is my best friend—well, aside from Beau... We’re close. We talk at least twice a week and I go to their place every holiday.”

  “What does he do for work?”

  “Oh, he’s an architect too.”

  “So you followed in his footsteps?” At his nod, she said, “He must be proud of you.”

  “I think Dad would’ve been proud of me no matter what I did. I could’ve been a garbage man and he would’ve raved about me to his friends.”

  She made an indiscernible sound at this statement and finished her drink. Placing down her glass, she reached for the last of her supply. Maybe every thirty minutes wasn’t going to be fast enough. Glancing at the bar, he gestured for the bartender to start making some with the slight incline of his head.

  “I envy you.”

  His gaze ratcheted back to Natasha who was staring into the middle distance—here, but not here.

  “Why?”

  Those green eyes of hers found his face. “Because you have your parents’ pride.”

  “And you don’t?” he asked. Man, he couldn’t understand how that could be true.

  Slowly—sadly—she shook her head. “My father…” She swallowed. “My father doesn’t seem to be proud of me no matter what I do.”

  “I don’t understand. You’re a lawyer. You’re doing what he did. How could he not be proud of you?”

  She grimaced. “I’m about four years too late in becoming partner at my firm.”

  “And that’s a problem because...?”

  “Because he had grand plans for me.” Her tone was hostile. “He wanted me to become the youngest supreme court judge and the youngest to become partner. He wanted me to outdo him and now that I haven’t... Thank Christ!” She dove for the new martini as it landed on the table. John waved the guy away when he was asked if he wanted something else to drink. Natasha was drinking plenty for the both of them.

  She looked as if she’d been put through the emotional wringer. Dealing with a parent’s disappointment was a bitter pill to swallow.

  “Natasha? Natasha!” She finally looked at him and he spoke slowly so she knew he was serious. “Fuck your dad and his expectations.”

  Her smile started out small and then widened until he could see all her perfectly straight white teeth. “I wish I could say that to his face. I wish I could tell him that I don’t…” She hesitated, tripping over words that she clearly hadn’t intended to say to him.

  “You can tell me anything, you know. I’m a vault. And nothing will leave this bar. Pretend I’m Vee and you’re offloading.”

  She glanced at him. “I haven’t even told Vee this.”

  Right. Okay. Definitely new territory here. So why was she telling him? It had to be because he was just a temporary acquaintance. In a month, he’d be gone, and then after the wedding, he may as well have not existed. He was just a convenience and he was okay with that.

  Sitting back in her seat, she recrossed her legs elegantly and he got a good eyeful of her thighs. “Here’s the thing: I’ve had another firm chasing me for near on ten months now. They’ve upped the offer for my starting salary a number of times, sent me gift baskets, purchased theater tickets, sent me to major award shows. They even gave me a private driver for a few months.

  “Then on Wednesday, after the meeting at the orphanage, my boss called me into his office to talk.”

  “Does he know about the other firm?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, but he didn’t know that I’d turned them down the week before.” She frowned. “Or maybe he did,” she said more to herself
than anything else.

  “What did he say?”

  “He offered me something that my father has been wanting for me for years. He offered me a partnership and a significant raise to my salary.”

  “Damn.”

  “Yeah. I’d be crazy not to take it, but when he asked me, when I looked into his face and saw the anticipation in his eyes, I felt like I was going to be sick. Which is crazy. This is what I’ve been working toward for the last few years, and even more so these last ten months. I’ve given up friendships and relationships and free time so I could sink myself into my career.” Looking at him, her eyes searched his face. “And then when I’m given everything I want, I freeze. I couldn’t give him an answer.”

  “It’s a lot to process,” he told her gently.

  “No, you don’t understand. I pride myself on making split-second decisions. This one should’ve been a fucking no-brainer, but I stalled out because I thought, Jesus, I’m never going to sleep. I’m never going to have free time. I’m never going to leave my office. I don’t want that.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Leaning forward, he plugged his elbows into the top of his knees. “If you weren’t a lawyer, what would you be doing?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You must have—”

  “No, you don’t understand,” she interrupted. “I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m a lawyer, but that’s all I have right now.”

  “That’s not true. You’re a lifeline to that orphanage. I’ve seen how passionate you are about that place, about those kids.”

  After Natasha had left the meeting, the Mother Superior had spilled all the beans on her, telling him how long she’d been coming, how she spent time with the kids, even helping some of them with their homework.

  Reaching across the table, he took her hands in his, squeezing them gently until she looked at him. “You have a generous heart, Natasha. You shouldn’t dismiss that so easily.”