Having Fun with Mr. Wrong (11 page)

He kissed her deeply. It was so hot, so nice. Their tongues intertwined and instant passion sparked. The telling wetness formed between her legs. Oh yeah, she was definitely hungry for him. And he shared the same sentiment, as indicated by hardness pressed against her.

“Mmm, I could get used to this.” She sighed, sinking into his arms.

“Get used to it because I don’t plan on stopping.” Bill cupped her face for another kiss.

She wriggled out of his arms. She didn’t want to mess up her hair and makeup before the trip. “Don’t we have a plane to catch?” She grabbed her coat from the hallway closet. “You know how nervous I get at before flights.”

“We have plenty of time, don’t worry.”

The flight was long, but Jane used the time to get through some mindless reading for a change and nibble on some delicious snacks served in first class.

****

Jane entered the huge reception room of their five-star hotel in the heart of Paris, within walking distance of the Grevin Museum.

“Wait until you see the room,” Bill said.

Two bellhops greeted them with a luggage cart and loaded their bags. They went to the registration desk, checked in, and rode the elevator up to the tenth floor, bellhops in tow.

The fragrance of fresh flowers filled her senses as soon as she entered their rooms. Vases with elaborate floral arrangements sprinkled their suite. The décor was an interesting combination of classical and avant-garde. Relaxing but elegant at the same time. She glided over to the opened French doors of the terrace which overlooked the piazza. She inhaled the sweet aroma of fresh-baked goodies from the bakery on the street below and instantly dreamed of sinking her teeth into a fluffy croissant.

The pop of a cork distantly resounded through the room. Jane spied Bill opening the champagne on ice the staff had provided for them. Jane opened a hand-written welcome letter detailing the many amenities offered: a free minibar on the first night, free Wi-Fi, free video on request, iPod station—only, there would be no use for that because Jane would designate the hotel room a no-device zone—bathrobes and slippers, and a complimentary breakfast in the lobby.

She didn’t think they’d be watching much TV, regardless of the impressive high-definition sixty-inch flatscreen.

Jane slinked to the bed and ran her hand along the goose-down duvet and pulled it back to reveal natural linen sheets.

Suddenly, she wanted to take advantage of the inviting bed. Bill was carefully pouring the bubbly into long crystal flutes but froze still when he got a look at Jane. A second later he ripped her dress off in one sweeping motion. Her body writhed in anticipation. She unfastened her bra, hurriedly threw it to the ground, and then removed her underwear, stockings, and shoes while he stripped his clothes off.

He picked her up and laid her down on the soft bed. She felt like as if she were floating on a cloud. She wanted him, now and fast. She grabbed him and pulled him on top of her, wrapping her legs around him.

He kissed her, and she rubbed his cock. No more preamble. His hands were everywhere, on her breasts, between her legs. She was already wet.

“No petting, no licking? You want me right away?” he whispered in her ear.

“I’ve waited too long.”

Her hips arched toward him, searching for their prize. She was desperate to take him in her. She grabbed his cock and aimed it where she wanted it most.

He pushed her hand aside and plunged into her so forcefully she thought she’d break through the bed. His cock pushed deeper and quickly hit her sweet spot. The rhythm of their movement mesmerized her as she sank deeper into the soft folds of the mattress. How she longed for the moment to last. A tiny orgasm crested, and then another followed.

He ceaselessly plunged in her, depriving her of nothing and giving her everything she wanted. It blew her mind. She wanted to ride the wave of the heat longer, but the frenzy ruthlessly reached a culmination, and she cried out as she tumbled into a final, powerful orgasm. He followed suit with a loud, animalistic cry. She suspected he’d been waiting for this release for a long time. He collapsed on top of her for just a moment and then rolled on his back, pulling her with him.

“That was some long-needed lovemaking, darling.”

“Mmm, yes, it was. I hope you’ve got enough left for me later.” Jane snuggled into the crook of his arm.

“Oh, you so don’t have to worry about that.” He tightened his hold and kissed the top of her head.

****

They strolled toward the Eiffel Tower, entered inside the building, and climbed the internal staircase to the second floor, where they would dine at the Le Jules Verne. The maître d’ guided them to a private booth clad with pink velvet cushions and surrounded by intricate French mirrors. The table was set with insignia china and a pink satin tablecloth and matching napkins.

Her favorite color! Had Bill arranged this?

Cocooned in their alcove, they were the only two in the world who mattered. Bill ordered martinis and clams casino. They fed each other the clams, careful not to spill the contents of chopped pepper and bacon, and drank their martinis. Bill kissed her neck, sending chills up her spine. Then he kissed her deeply, though a little too passionately for a public place; she noted a few gaping stares from the other patrons.

Damn.
She didn’t want him to stop. At the same time, she didn’t want people to think they were classless American tourists. “Come on, Bill.” He didn’t stop at first, and she found it hard to resist another one of his passionate kisses. “Calm down, tiger. You won’t have any left for later.”

“I can’t get enough of you.” He composed himself and withdrew from her. “Okay, I’ll be good. Let’s order dinner.”

They perused the menu and decided on a cream of mushroom soup and a chateaubriand to share, with wild rice and steamed broccoli on the side. The delicious combination of savory spices and garlicky splendor enticed Jane’s appetite. They cut the meat and fed each other bites, slowly, sensually. They drank an entire bottle of Bordeaux with the meal. They ate in silence but touched as often as possible.

“Bill, I’m full. The food was delicious. I savored every bite. I can’t believe it, but I don’t feel woozy after all the drinks. Just a little buzzed.”

“I’m glad. I don’t want you to miss out on the night. I know you’re a lightweight and can’t take too much alcohol. And the night is young.”

The waiter cleared their plates and returned with dessert. It was her favorite, chocolate mousse. “I don’t think I have room for another bite, but I’ll try.”

“Eat up, then we’ll stroll the tower grounds.”

They walked around the grounds of the Eiffel Tower and the bridges and waterways.

Bill seemed to be stalling.

“Are we going anywhere else? My feet are killing me.”

He pulled her to a bench with a direct view of the tower. “You don’t need those shoes. Take them off.”

Her feet throbbed from the new five-hundred dollar stilettos, so she slipped them off. Bill kept glancing at his watch. She’d swear it was the third time in the last fifteen minutes. What was up with him?

His hand shook slightly as he fished in his pocket and produced an all-too-familiar- looking box. A sight she dreamed of beholding for all the years she could remember.

It was a robin’s-egg blue box with a white satin bow around it.

“No, Bill, I don’t believe it. It can’t be.”

When he fumbled with the bow, the box tumbled to the ground. He scooped it up and untied the ribbon on bended knee. Bill opened the box and presented it to her.

There sat the most beautiful perfectly round and glistening Tiffany diamond ring. It had to be two carats. He must’ve spent a fortune. The color was magnificent, picking up so much light.

Oh my.

“I’ve waited for what seemed to be an eternity. I knew you were
the one
from the first time I saw you cheerleading on the football field. You broke my heart, but I never gave up hope. We were destined to be together…” He hesitated, as though he’d forgotten his words. “With this ring, I’d like to ask you to take my hand in marriage. I want to share every precious moment with you that I can, since I’ve lost so many. Please, Janey, will you be my wife?”

Finally, he’d asked her. Her life flashed before her: the years of study, her potential job as a high-powered DA, and the future working mom of two little ones, a boy and girl pulling at her skirt. Bill fit into the picture perfectly. There could be no one else. They’d appear to the world as the perfect couple, and really, they were the perfect couple. As their high school yearbook said, they were the couple most likely to be married forever.

“Yes. Yes, Bill Andrew Cicieri, I will marry you. Now get up off your knee and get over here.”

He slipped the ring onto her finger for a perfect fit. She pulled him up onto the bench next to her, and they kissed. Their lips and tongues molded together as though they belonged that way. The rhythm of the kiss turned her on. The familiar wetness returned to that special place at her center. But he suddenly stopped, glanced at his watch again, and pointed to the Eiffel Tower. “Look, honey. Now.”

As if on cue, the Eiffel Tower was aglow with a shimmering display of lights.

“Beautiful. You couldn’t have done it any better.” Her perfect Bill. He had this all planned to the final detail.

“I wanted you to say yes and have the ring on before the light show.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ve been planning this ever since I got the gumption to ask you.”

They sat a moment, taking in the amazing display of lights running up and down the length of the Eiffel Tower.

“Before we do the marriage planning, we need to figure out where I’m going to work, Bill.”

“That will be entirely up to you, my dear.” He turned toward her and pulled her into an embrace. “I am so happy. We’re engaged!”

“I can’t believe it, Bill, we really are!”

The next couple of days passed in a flash as they visited the Louvre, where they viewed the Mona Lisa and works of Claude Monet, and went on a garden tour in Versailles. A river cruise on the Seine revealed breathtaking views of Notre-Dame. And, of course, they dined at outdoor cafes along the Seine, complete with handwritten menus. Although Jane had hoped to escape reality just a little longer, she had to say goodbye to this romantic city.

The only dilemma gnawing at her was the assistant DA job she wanted in Philly. She doubted Bill would leave Manhattan. But they’d have time to discuss it later, much later, after the glow of this romantic vacation wore off.

Maybe she could persuade Bill to move his lucrative career to Philadelphia.

Chapter Nine

For the next couple of weeks, Carmala worked round the clock on the Smithinson Gas project. As far as she was concerned, the deal was dead. But how would she explain that to Tom? At six o’clock she tapped on his office door. He was still hard at work, furiously tapping at the keys on his laptop, and didn’t immediately look up.

“Got a minute, Tom?”

He lifted his bleary eyes toward her. “I do. What’s up?”

“It’s Smithinson.” Carmala took a seat opposite Tom at his desk. “They are relying on obtaining financing for their expanded business plan. Raising money in this economy and at this juncture is a losing proposition for any oil company. I propose we drop the client and cut our losses.”

Uh-oh
. His jaw dropped, disappointment stretched across his face. Regret for uttering her words slammed into her, but it was too late now.

“Carmala, we hired you because of your tenacity. Difficult-to-finance clients are part of our business. We don’t drop them once they’re under contract.” He paused for a moment and seemed to be search for the right words. “I should have seen this coming. You’re still making the transition from auditor to salesperson. Your mindset hasn’t totally shifted yet. I may have made a mistake throwing you to the wolves like this. Give it time. Sales will become second nature, if you can turn off the internal auditor brain.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

Shit. Now he thought she was incapable of doing the job he hired her for. She needed to prove she was fully capable.

“I guess I
am
still wearing an auditor’s cap. Don’t worry. I’ll get this. I promise.”

Tom got up and paced the floor behind his desk. “You see, Carmala, the retention fee we collect from our clients compensates us for our overhead. Since we’ve already collected the fee, we need to earn it out and give the best client service we can.”

“Maybe I need to view it from a different angle,” she said. “I’ll meet with the Smithinson board of directors again and reevaluate their retail distribution strategy.” Even though she had already done this, what she needed was a creative breakthrough. Something that would get her to look at the situation differently, maybe not so analytically. She had to prove herself.

“I have total faith in you, Carmala. If you want to meet with the board again, I’m all for it. Maybe you should take a break tonight, get some early Christmas shopping done. You’ve been working late nights and need to recharge. I need you fresh.” He raised his eyebrows and pointed to her. “But make no mistake, we don’t want to lose this account. Its success is crucial to our quarterly results. If you need help, I can assign a couple of more senior people to assist you.”

No way!
She had this. And she didn’t need anyone’s help.

“Don’t worry, Tom. I’ll come up with something. I’ll brainstorm with Smithinson’s board. They want this as much as we do. I’ll bring the deal home.”

“Sounds like a good plan. In the meantime, go home and rest.”

She went into her office. While Tom gave her a kick in the pants, he also gave her a vote of confidence, and she got a surge of creativity. She made an immediate call to George Beckett, the CEO of Smithinson, who was still at the office. They agreed to a time to meet with the board the next day. He said he was anxious to hear what Carmala had to say.

She continued to work until ten that night. She would rest later. It was more important that she strategize. She examined Smithinson’s operations report, and something caught her attention. They’d experimentally introduced mini-fast food restaurants called “Health-on-the-Run” in some of their twenty-four-hour convenience stores at their gas stations. The marts gave their customers access to fresh made veggie and vegan sandwiches, platters, and salads, and “Health-to-Go” protein shakes.