Body Chemistry Page 6
She stared at it. Don’t get your hopes up—it’s not him, she reminded herself.
It rang again.
She answered. “Hello?”
“Hello, this is Natalie Swanson. I’m calling on behalf of Dr. Ayers. He’d like to know if you’re free for dinner Friday.”
“Yes,” Brenda replied. Finally he had found time to put her on his schedule. She tempered her excitement. She didn’t care; all she wanted was to meet with him, ask him for a loan and leave. Why did he want to meet over dinner? “Where does he want to meet me?”
“He said he’ll send a car for you around 7:30 p.m.”
“Thank you, but just send me directions. I’ll drive myself.”
“It will be at his house,” she said tentatively.
“That’s fine.”
“Are you sure you don’t want a car?”
“I’m sure. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Natalie put down the phone, then glanced up when Dominic entered the reception area. He passed her desk and walked directly into his office. He looked exhausted. She knew he had completed the TV show, then visited the original host in the hospital. She also knew he’d been so busy he hadn’t attended to details like returning Brenda’s call. “I just spoke to Brenda,” she said as she took a chair in his office.
He grabbed his yo-yo. “Yes?”
She licked her lower lip. “About the dinner you wanted her to have with you.”
“Dinner?”
“Yes, remember you asked me to set one up for you for Friday at 7:30?”
He set the yo-yo down. “I did?”
“Yes,” she said firmly, determined that he would not uncover her ploy.
He folded his arms, uncertain. “Did she agree?”
“Yes, she’ll meet you at your place.”
His brows shot up. “Brenda’s willing to come to my house?”
“Yes.”
He let his arms fall. “Good.” He smiled and looked a little brighter. “Thanks.”
Natalie grinned, pleased with herself. “You’re welcome.”
That Friday evening, Brenda dressed with care as she put on the red suit. Then she tried on the pair of black stockings with the red rose. They felt luxurious, clinging to her skin and outlined her legs, making them look curvaceous for the first time in her life.
She looked in her full-length mirror and hardly recognized herself. She had pulled her hair back into a French braid. The hair products she had been given made her hair easy to style. A pair of pearl-drop earrings decorated her ears and a thin silver necklace with a large pearl pendant graced her neck. But it was the red suit and black stockings that stunned her most.
A naughty smile touched her face. Dominic was in for a surprise.
“Alliance Incorporated is waiting for a response,” Thomas said, straightening one of the awards that lined Dominic’s office.
Dominic threw his yo-yo in the air. “I know.”
“You can’t keep them hanging on.”
Natalie knocked on the door, then peeked inside. “Dr. Ayers?”
Thomas rushed over to her and said in a low voice. “I thought I told you to go home over an hour ago. We’re busy here.”
“I know, but I have to speak to Dr. Ayers.”
“Talk to him on Monday.”
“But the time,” she said sounding a little desperate.
“I know what time it is, but I have to convince him of this deal.” He gently but firmly spun her around. “Go home.”
“But Thomas—”
He closed the door in her face and turned back to Dominic. He sat in front of him. “Now about Alliance—”
Dominic shook his head as he lounged behind his desk. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you a decision soon.”
The phone rang. Thomas lifted it before Dominic could.
“Not now,” Thomas said knowing who the caller was.
“Let me talk to him,” Natalie pleaded.
Thomas hung up the phone and turned the ringer off.
Dominic frowned. “Who was that?”
“Nobody.” He leaned on the desk and smiled at Dominic, determined to persuade him. If Natalie would just give him time, he knew he could. “I think we should go over the reasons why this is a good career option.”
Dominic’s cell phone rang. Thomas gripped his hands into fists wanting to smash it under his heel.
Dominic looked at the number and frowned. “It’s Natalie. Maybe she—”
“Don’t answer it. She’s just trying to annoy me because I owe her something.”
“She’s calling my phone to get to you?” Dominic asked.
“Yes, I turned mine off.”
“But—”
“Let’s just end this talk, then I’ll make it up to her.”
Dominic shrugged, then set the phone down. “There’s not much to say.” He knew that Thomas thought the deal with Alliance Inc. would be great, but Dominic had his reservations. Madeline’s death and seeing Brenda again made him want to rethink his helter-skelter lifestyle.
“Perhaps you need more time to think this over.”
“Yes.”
Thomas sighed, then looked at the clock. “I’d better go. Natalie and I are going out of town tomorrow.”
Dominic frowned. “But tomorrow is Friday.”
“Today’s Friday. Check your calendar.”
Dominic’s stomach fell as he glanced at his watch in horror: Eight o’clock. “It can’t be Friday.”
“Why not?”
He jumped to his feet and quickly gathered his things. “Because I was supposed to meet someone at seven-thirty on Friday.”
Thomas grinned. “Then you’d better hope that someone is very forgiving.”
Moments later Dominic sped down the road while talking to Sheila, his housekeeper, through his earpiece. “Is she still there?”
“Yes.”
“Is everything ready?”
“I’m always ready,” Sheila huffed.
“Right, of course. You’re the best,” he said, not wanting to anger two women in one day. “Tell Brenda I’ll be right there.”
“I’ve been telling her that. Could you be more specific?”
“Less than twenty minutes.”
“Hmm…” Sheila said, unimpressed.
He slowed down for a stop sign. “Does she look upset?”
“No, she looks very calm. You wouldn’t think you were late at all.”
Dominic swore, then put his foot on the gas. “That means she wants to cut off my—never mind. I’ll be there soon.”
“He’ll be here soon,” Sheila said to Brenda in an apologetic tone. Sheila didn’t look like a housekeeper, she had the body of a barmaid, the face of a raisin and the chirpy voice of a sparrow.
“Thank you,” Brenda said.
“Do you need anything?”
“No, I’m fine.”
Sheila nodded, then went into the kitchen.
Brenda glanced around the living room again. Yes, it was all too familiar: the emergencies, the late meetings, the forgotten appointments. If she didn’t need his money so much she would have left long ago and kept him out of her life another three years. But she did need him and would do whatever was necessary.
Not that she had much choice of leaving, she thought, glancing down at the Great Dane called Sergeant that had fallen asleep on her feet. When she had arrived, he had followed her and immediately fell on her feet as though he meant to keep her there until his owner returned. She once tried to nudge him to move, but he produced a surprisingly fierce low growl, so she decided it was best to wait for Dominic’s return. But she hadn’t expected her wait to have been that long.
The dog had surprised her. They never had time for pets, but from the size of his house a lot had changed. It was nothing like the apartment he used to live in or the colonial home they had shared. But she wouldn’t think about that now. She was there for only one reason.
Dominic dashed into the house, tossed his things
in the foyer, unbuttoned his shirt and raced past the living room. He called out to the woman sitting there and said, “I’m just going to change my shirt. I’ll be right with you.” Suddenly, something registered in his mind. He slid to a complete stop and backtracked to get a second look at the woman sitting on his couch.
He stood in the frame of the doorway with his shirt halfway unbuttoned and one collar sticking up. He didn’t care. He vaguely noticed Sergeant come up and greet him and absently patted him on the head.
He felt as though someone had punched him in the gut. It had happened only twice in his lifetime. First when his father told him he was leaving his mother and ten years ago, when a young woman came up behind him and said, “Just because you’re brilliant doesn’t mean you have to annoy the professor.”
He had spun around ready to snap back. He was tired of being told what he could and couldn’t do. When he turned the first thing he saw was a really nice pair of breasts in a gray sweater. He quickly lifted his gaze and met startling, clear brown eyes.
No one had ever talked to him like that or boldly looked at him as their equal. He stood speechless, his tongue like lead in his mouth as he felt his heart racing.
“Just some friendly advice,” she said. “I’ve heard he can make your life miserable.” She walked away and he stood there feeling like he’d turned to marble.
She was halfway down the hall before he grabbed a classmate and pointed. “Who is that?”
He had a clear view of her but the other student, a few inches shorter, struggled to see. “Who?”
“The girl in the gray sweater.”
“Oh, Brenda Everton. She’s very nice. She helped me—”
“Thanks,” Dominic interrupted, patting him on the shoulder. He raced after her, but lost her when she went outside. He had given up searching for her, then he saw her sitting on the grass with a large sketch pad. He punched his hand into his fist bursting with triumph, then walked up to her. He sat down beside her. “You think I’m brilliant?”
“Yes.” She didn’t turn to acknowledge him and spoke in a matter-of-fact way, without the hint of a compliment.
He glanced at the ground. He didn’t know what to say to her and it was clear he didn’t affect her the way she did him and that annoyed him. But he didn’t leave. He wasn’t leaving without a phone number. With effort he’d gotten her to talk and to open up about her drawing and he’d discussed his filmmaking aspirations. He felt as though they were connected on some cosmic plane; that an intricate bond existed between them.
Whatever she did to him that day had changed his entire focus. He’d married her six months later and his life had never been the same.
He felt that same cosmic shift now as if his life was about to take another direction. The woman sitting in his living room was not the Brenda he remembered and yet she was everything he knew she could be: beautiful, bold and dangerous to him. He welcomed the challenge. He walked toward her.
“You’ve decided not to change your shirt?” she asked.
“I’ve decided not to keep you waiting any longer.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her as though she were a sorceress who had bewitched him.
“Good.” She stood. “I’ve been admiring your house. You have a great view.” The back of her skirt revealed a high slit, giving him a nice view of her legs and emphasized the curve of her behind.
Dominic rolled up his sleeves, his voice deepening into huskiness when he noticed the seductive rose on her ankle. “Mine’s better.”
Brenda bent down and lifted her briefcase. The motion only improved his view. He was pleased to notice her fingers tremble. She wasn’t as unaware of their attraction as she pretended to be. “Where are we meeting?” she asked.
He took her briefcase and rested it down. “The sunroom. Would you like a drink?” He continued buttoning up his shirt, wishing he didn’t have to and took off his tie, keeping his gaze focused on her. He loved the way she’d put her hair back and let some fall against her face. He wanted to toy with those strands. He also wanted to toy with that red suit. He’d never seen her in red before, the color of passion and heat and he could feel his own pulse racing and he fought hard not to grab her and fulfill the fantasy quickly growing in his mind.
Dominic took a deep breath and shifted from one foot to the other, determined not to respond to her like some horny teenager, although that’s how he felt. He would take this slow.
“No, I don’t need a drink,” she said. “I’d really like to talk to you.”
“You’ll get your chance,” he said, placing his hand on the small of her back to lead her to the other room. “I’m yours all evening.” And all night if you want.
She sent him a look of warning. “I only came here for business.”
“Of course,” he said, then smiled.
Chapter 6
The suit had been a mistake. Coming here had been an even bigger one. She should have made her request over the phone, Brenda silently scolded herself. She thought she could handle this and had been impressed when the housekeeper had shown her the elegant dinner table. But then the moments ticked away and memories began filling her mind. Then she heard his car and the front door slam, she heard his voice and saw him fly past. She was determined to keep a rein on her temper. Then he’d stopped and come back to look at her.
He hadn’t looked at her like that in years, as if he were slowly peeling away her clothes. No other man looked at her that way, and it reminded her of the first time she’d spoken to him…
He was one of the poorest grad students she’d ever seen. She wondered how he could afford college. He never noticed her or anyone. She never saw him with anyone else and doubted he had any friends. But she’d noticed him. The careless way he walked; his frayed shirts and one pair of sneakers that had the rubber sole coming loose. He seemed to have so much against him that something inside her wanted to see him succeed. She’d approached him in the corridor outside of the lecture hall. She wasn’t nervous. She had seven brothers and was never afraid to approach a man, even a surly one.
“You’re a smart guy, but you should be careful. Dr. Prentice could flunk you.”
He spun around and she braced herself for a cutting remark, but didn’t get one. He didn’t even look at her at first and she wondered if she’d underestimated his temper. Then he lifted his gaze and eyes shining with brilliance and fierce independence blazed into hers igniting an attraction she didn’t know she had. Her heart jolted and she felt her entire body grow hot.
She stumbled over her next few words. “It’s because you challenge him and he doesn’t take well to that and can be very vindictive. That’s my observation.”
He made a noncommittal sound deep in his throat, which she couldn’t interpret and continued staring at her in that dark, magnetic way of his. “Just some friendly advice.” She flashed a quick smile, then fled.
She felt like a coward but that didn’t stop her from running. She could feel his gaze on her and ran until she knew he was gone. Once outside she had felt foolish and tried to convince herself that she’d made it all up, but her body knew differently and she still felt breathless. She decided to sketch and selected her favorite place to do so. She always carried a little sketchbook with her and felt herself relax as she focused on drawing a butterfly resting on a rock nearby.
“So you think I’m smart?”
She didn’t dare turn around. She felt him sit beside her. The breathless feeling returned. She focused on her drawing because she didn’t dare focus on him. “Yes.”
He leaned in closer. The hairs on his arm brushed against her skin. “You’re very good,” he said.
“Thanks. I like to sketch. It keeps my mind clear. Sometimes I try to draw things from memory to see how much detail I can remember. Reminds me to be observant.” Dear God, she was rambling. She snapped her sketchbook closed because it was clear he wasn’t going to move and she’d have to. She needed to create distance.
“Do I make you nervous?”
“You make Dr. Prentice nervous.”
“I can’t help that.”
“You can’t be a filmmaker if you don’t know how to work with people.”
“How did you know about that?” he demanded.
“I saw your documentary. I would have missed it but my younger brother was visiting and watching TV and turned it on. I really liked it.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “I didn’t think anyone would watch it. I still got a D.”
His unhappiness surprised her. She’d thought he would rally against such things as a professor’s criticism. She didn’t want anything or anyone to crush his spirit. She ruffled through her bag, then pulled out a class project that still brought her pain. “My professor gave me a D for this. I cried for days until I realized that he just hated me and not my work.”
He held the illustration. “This is great.”
“Thanks.”
He traced the illustration with his forefinger. “And he made you cry?”
“I was devastated, but I got over it.”
“What was his name again?” he asked the question in such a quiet, neutral voice she sent him an uneasy look. Then she looked at his hands, he gripped the paper without creasing it, but he held it so tightly that the veins on the back of his hands popped out. His anger surprised and concerned her. She gently covered his hand, amazed by the size and strength of it. “It doesn’t matter now. I passed.”
He didn’t look at her, instead he stared at their hands. She quickly removed hers and stood.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to go to class.”
“Can I call you?”
“Sure.”
He called her the next day and they were married six months later. She stared at him now. There were no longer frayed shirts or bursts of insecurities, he was a self-made multimillionaire and knew it.
They sat in his enclosed sunroom, the crisp autumn wind beating against the window as the sign of the approaching winter. Brenda looked at the large table covered with a damask table cloth, candles and a large display of fresh flowers in the middle. It was an effortlessly romantic setting: the sound of the water, the soft lights of the city, and soothing classical music drifting in through speakers. She remembered when…No, Brenda caught herself. She was there on business, not pleasure.