Body Chemistry (6 page)

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Authors: Dara Girard

BOOK: Body Chemistry
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“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
 

T
he 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.

But Dominic made that difficult. Throughout dinner—which consisted of smoked salmon, sweet potatoes, asparagus, sweet rolls and red wine—he refused to talk about why she was there. He was a great conversationalist and they talked about everything but that. After her favorite dessert, chocolate mousse, Brenda felt more relaxed and Dominic finally brought up the topic, while leading her into the family room.

“I’m happy you called me,” he said taking a seat on a large sofa. “I was a little worried about you.”

“You don’t have to be.” Brenda adjusted her skirt as she sat down in a side chair and faced him.

“Madeline left me a letter.”

Brenda paused, surprised. “She did?”

He nodded. “Did she leave you one too?”

“Yes.”

“What did yours say?”

“I’m not going to tell you.”

He shrugged. “Fair enough, but after what happened did it make you want to change?”

“It made me think about my life.”

“Now you’re ready to have one.”

“Oh, that’s hilarious coming from you. How much time do you actually spend in this house?”

“I told you,” he said slowly. “I’ve altered my priorities. I don’t work as much as I used to.”

“Really?” She glanced at his organizer on the side table next to him.

“Yes.”

She held out her hand. “Let me see your schedule for next week.”

“No.”

“Why not? Do you have something to hide?”

He rubbed his nose, uncomfortable. “This month’s a bit crowded.”

“I knew you hadn’t changed.”

He opened his organizer and handed it to her. She glanced through it. “I’m surprised you have time to sleep.”

“Yes, it looks crowded, but that’s only because I’m not seeing anyone at the moment. I guarantee you, if I were, my schedule would look differently.”

“I’m sure it would.”

He let her sarcasm slide. “So what can I do for you?”

Brenda cleared her throat. She’d practiced what she would say, but oddly, she felt awkward. “I didn’t get funding for phase two of my project and I need a loan.”

“A loan?” he repeated.

“Yes, a loan. I had thought of you as an investor, but that would include too much paperwork and involvement.”

He sat back, his gaze sharp. “And you just want my money, not me.”

“It’s more complicated than that. I—”

He folded his arms. “How much do you want?”

“About a million.”

“I don’t deal in ‘abouts’. How much do you need?”

“One point five million.”

“How do you plan to pay back this loan?”

She opened her briefcase. “I’ve sketched it all out here.” Brenda spread several papers out on the glass center table, confident that he would be impressed.

Dominic glanced at the papers, then shook his head. “I’m not in the mood to read. Just tell me.”

“But I have everything laid out. If you’d just—”

“Brenda, it’s a simple question. If I have to go through four pages to find out the answer, it’s a bad risk.” He leaned forward. “I know you. You can be very straightforward when you want to be. But when you don’t know an answer, you stall. You create complex replies. That may work with others, but it doesn’t work with me.” He traced the edge of the table, his tone unrelenting. “Now, I’m going to ask you again. How do you plan to pay back this loan?”

Brenda stared down at her carefully laid out illusion: the typed pages with all her projections. He was smart, she should have known better. She should have remembered she couldn’t deceive him. “I don’t know.” She raised her gaze, determined. “But I will. You know my word is good.”

He sat back. “Your word may be good, but I can’t depend on your vows.”

The words hit her like a slap, making her angry.

“Don’t give me that. You wanted the divorce as much as I did.”

He blinked, but didn’t respond.

“Are you going to give me the loan or not?”

“No.”

Brenda cooled her anger, quickly gathered her papers, then stood. “Okay.”

“Sit down. I haven’t finished yet.”

“Then talk to your dog.” She turned to leave.

“I said sit.”

“I’m not staying to hear your explanation.”

His gaze remained on her like a laser and each moment she defied him the laser burned hotter. He rarely shouted at anyone, and definitely not at her. He just became very quiet with all the calm of an approaching tornado.

She sat, reluctantly.

Dominic did not smile with triumph. Instead, he lowered his gaze and kept his voice soft. “I’m not going to loan you the money, I’m going to give it to you.”

“Give it to me?”

“Yes, but I want you to do something for me in return.”

“I knew there would be a catch,” she said in disgust.

He got up and started to leave.

“No, wait,” she said, realizing her error. “Okay, I’m listening.”

He settled back in his chair. “I’m working on a book and I need an illustrator.”

“Your publisher will hire one for you.”

“I know that, but I want you.”

She shook her head. “Impossible. I haven’t illustrated in years.”

“Is that a no?”

“It’s a ‘you’re out of your mind.’”

“Okay.” He stood up again and left.

Brenda jumped up and followed him.

“Dominic, be reasonable.”

“I’m willing to give you over a million dollars for twenty illustrations and you’re asking me to be reasonable? Are you afraid? Is that why you’re turning me down?”

“I’m not afraid.” She was
terrified.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had had to work on a drawing assignment.

“Then what’s holding you back?”

She couldn’t admit weakness to him and besides, she needed the money. She took a deep breath, determined to think rationally, not emotionally. “What’s the project?”

He went into another room, then returned with some papers. “This.”

She stared at the outlined description. “This could take an entire year to complete. I don’t have that kind of time to take away from my research.”

“Yes, you do. Your research is progressing well. And that fellow you work with, Chuck, is a brilliant scientist and can take the lead. You have the lab and the researchers. It doesn’t need your daily involvement anymore, you’re basically just supervising so you have time to help me.”

“Who’s the publisher? What if they don’t like my style?”

A sly grin touched his face. “You’re afraid.”

She stiffened. “No, I’m not.”

He held out his hand. “Then we’ll be working together.”

“Maybe we should have a trial run first. I could produce a few samples and—”

He rested his hands on his hips. “It’s all or nothing.” He pinned her with an intense stare.

She hesitated. “There’s one more thing.”

“What?”

“Well, my water heater just busted.”

“And you need money to replace it.”

“Yes.”

“Now that changes things,” he said, thoughtful.

“Why?”

“Because that’s a personal request.”

She tilted her head to the side and folded her arms. “It’s not that personal.”

“If you want money for your water heater you have to invite me over for dinner.”

“Why?”

“That’s my condition. Take it or leave it.”

“But I don’t cook, you know that.”

“You can order something.”

“This doesn’t make any sense to me. First you want illustrations and then dinner. Why?”

Dominic pulled her against his hard, solid body and covered her mouth with his. His mouth was even sweeter than she remembered. Her body shamelessly responded to being in his arms again. He always made her feel wicked and wild. But before she could completely lose control, he abruptly pulled away, his voice as unsteady as she felt. “That’s why.”

“You’re not getting
that
as part of our partnership,” she said, breathless.

“No, I expect to get
that
for free.”

His arrogance infuriated her. She raised her fists to hit him in the chest, but he grabbed them before she struck him. “Go on and fight me, Brenda,” he whispered. “Fight me long. Fight me hard, fight me with all your might until you’re weak. Then when you surrender, I’ll be ready.”

“I’ll never surrender to you.”

“You want me.” He kissed her fist, easing his leg between hers. “Don’t think I don’t feel it.”

“It’s just the fact that you’re a man, not that it’s you.”

His jaw twitched and anger briefly darkened his eyes, then passed. “I’m going to forgive you for that, but watch your mouth because I know how to close it.” He kissed her neck. “You smell good and feel even better. I’d take you to bed tonight if I knew you were ready. But you’d convince yourself it was all a mistake and regret it in the morning no matter how good it was. And you’d lie just to punish me.”

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