Slightly Sinful

Slightly Sinful

Yvette Hines

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission by the author.

Slightly Sinful

Copyright © 2012, Yvette Hines

Cover Artist: Antwan Williams

Editor: Andrea Jackson

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Other Titles by Yvette Hines

Santa’s Helper

Speed Dating

The Marriage Clause

Holiday Affair

Take This Man

Golden Treasure

Ho, Ho, Ho and a Dom

Bet on a Mistletoe

Making the Man

Lady Justice

Trusting St. Nick

Shot at Love

Internet Rebound

Secured Heart

On The Prowl

Rescued Mate

Heated Restraints

Arrested Heart

Prisoner of Desire

Holiday Fantasy

Designed for Love (Reignited Anthology)

We Go Together

A Piece of Me

A Gentle Christmas

The Club

What White Boyz Desire

By Invitation Only

Cinnamon Buns

To Have and To Hold

Illicit Christmas

Sensual Chocolate

Stealing the Bride (Taken Anthology)

Dedication
: To my readers who want a little adventure in their life… get on board we’re headed to Cat Island where you can fulfill your wildest fantasies and maybe fall in love.

Chapter one

“So, we’ll discover next week if we got it.” Delilah’s stomach knotted as she finished updating Darren about the memo from Torres Corp.
This account could make or break me
.

No sooner did she secure the paper inside its envelope than the phone buzzed, and Connie’s voice announced, “Pamela Harvey is on the line for you. She says it’s important.”

She giggled at Darren as he rolled his eyes. They knew Pam, and
important
to their friend was anything from a thong sale to an eligible bachelor on the loose. With the anxiety rolling inside of her like wild butterflies after discussing the letter from the Torres’ executive, Pam’s energy was just what she needed, a true distraction.

“Thank you, Connie. If you could give me one moment then patch her through.”

“Can do, Ms. Reynolds.” The line went silent.

“Behave yourself,” Delilah instructed Darren.

“After you all brought me lunch back from that Greek restaurant last week, I’m not saying a thing. Besides, without Pam’s antics, our lives would be very dull.”

Delilah nodded. What Darren said was so true. Without Pam, everyday would be just as mundane as the next. “Okay, Darren I need you to get these over to Lydia and ask her to go over them with her graphics department. If she has questions about the changes, I want her to call me.” She passed him draft boards.

They concluded the meeting. Darren wasn’t only her project manager, he served as her right hand since the day he started working for her.

“You got it.” He headed toward the door. Before opening it, he faced her once again. “By the way, Lila, I got all fingers and toes crossed for the Torres account. We’re one of the finalists. That says a lot about how far you have come with this company.”

Blowing a kiss of thanks to him as he left the office, she took a deep breath and attempted to calm the nervousness swimming just below the surface. She faced the longest weekend, not knowing whether or not she would receive
the
call from the Torres conglomerate or not. Pushing the thought away for a moment, she answered the blinking line. “Pam--”

“Delilah, you’ll never believe what just got delivered to my office.” Pamela’s animated voice shrieked through the phone as she rambled on.

Holding the phone away from her ear, Delilah listened to her best friend from a distance. Pam sounded like an adult from the Charlie Brown cartoon. “Are you going to allow me to get a word in edgewise?” she yelled toward the mouthpiece.

Silence answered.

Satisfied Pamela had calmed down or taken a breath, Delilah returned the phone to her ear. “Now. What did the courier bring you?” She cradled the phone between her head and shoulders, listening as she flipped through draft boards for the oceanfront reception hall
Précis
Touch would decorate after the owners remodeled in the fall.

Pamela’s tone dropped as if she worked at some lover’s line, instead of as a buyer for Regal Style, an haute couture boutique. “Something sinuous and spine tingling.”

Delilah laughed. “Let me guess, a new toy arrived from Honey Pot?” The adult toyshop was a favorite of theirs.

“Nope. But you’re getting warmer.” Her friend’s giddy giggles echoed through the receiver.

The squeaking of Delilah’s chair reverberated around the office as she leaned back, holding the phone to the side of her face. “It’s Friday night at six. I’m drained from the week and at a loss.”

Sighing, Pamela gave in and told her. “I have an invitation to Daniel Silverman’s overnight getaway.”

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific.” Delilah could feel tightness in her forehead as her brow scrunched while she attempted to comprehend the message her friend was trying to relay.

Pamela gave a loud exaggerated groan into the phone. “Put on your weekend cap, Lila girl. Remember in January we had high tea at London Tryst with Rebecca Delacruz? She kept going on about Silverman’s New Years bash in Maui and how it was nothing like she’d ever experienced before.”

It was all coming back to her now. Half listening, Delilah crossed her legs and fiddled with the hem of her short red skirt.
Who said red heads couldn’t wear red? I look fabulous in it
. “Yes. But, I don’t remember her saying exactly what went on.”

“That’s right, she didn’t. Supposedly it’s not only an exclusive night, it’s confidential also.”

She could hear Pamela rustling with something.

“Looking at the invitation I got, it specifically states that in coming, you agree to keep the place and people in attendance a secret.”

Delilah couldn’t deny her interest was piqued. “A private affair. Hmm…interesting. So, how did your name get on this….list?”

Pamela’s voice dropped again. “Well, to be honest, ever since Rebecca mentioned it, I have been dying to find out what all the hoopla was about. You know how I’m always interested in anything that sounds remotely decadent.”

“Yes, I do,” Delilah interjected.

“In the last six months, everywhere that Silverman went, I tried to be there. Parties, dinners, fundraisers, nightclubs…you mention it.”

She laughed at her friend’s tenacity. “I guess it paid off well for you.”

“For us,” Pamela declared.

She bolted up in her chair. “What?”

Pamela’s voice elevated. “You heard me. Us. U-S. This invitation says Pamela Winters and guest. You are guest.”

Dropping her head in her hands, Delilah responded, “Pam, I’m happy for you, but I can’t go.” As alluring as a titillating night of supposed erotic delights sounded, she couldn’t do it. Not this weekend.

“Yes, you can, Lila.”

“No, Pam, I can
not,
” she insisted.

Not taking ‘no’ for an answer, Pam asked, “What else did you have planned for the weekend?”

Tapping her nails against the desktop in frustration, she said honestly, “Chewing my nails to bits all day Saturday, and then on Sunday I’m going to get acrylic tips put on to hide my shame.” Looking down at her manicured nails, perfect in their trim and French pattern, she wanted to begin gnawing on them, regardless of her promise to herself when she started this company. ‘No chewing on my nails.’ Business owners didn’t have shabby, rough, unattractive hands.
To hell with that.

“Why the nails binge?”

“Torres Corporation,” she replied evenly.

Her friend sucking in a quick breath was audible through the phone.

“You got the contract?” Pamela’s excitement bubbled along her words.

“Not yet.” Delilah lifted an envelope from the right side of her desk and slipped out a paper for the ninth time. Staring at it, she said, “Earlier today a messenger delivered a memorandum informing me that Mr. Torres was flying in this weekend and his plans are to review all of the offers for the redesigning of Torres Towers. On Monday, I’ll know one way or another if they plan to give the contract to
Précis
Touch.” Torres Corporation was
the
company in the metropolitan world. If it was business, Torres Corp. owned a piece of it. Les Carter was the owner’s assistant and the person the elusive Mr. Torres used to deal with people. Sighing, she continued, “My nerves have been running races through my body all day.”

“Perfect! You need something to take your mind off your nails, and a private mansion on Cat Island in the Out Islands of the Bahamas is just the place for you to do it, Lila.”

Delilah attempted to argue her position. “Pam, really I need to--”

“You need to nothing.” Her friend cut her off. “I
refuse
to take no for an answer.”

“But--” she tried again.

“Delilah Renee Reynolds, if I have to drag your ass there kicking, screaming and naked, I will,” Pamela promised.

She groaned heavily in the phone, making sure Pam heard it.

Pamela laughed at her antics. “Pack sexy and I’ll pick you up around noon. The plane tickets are already booked--in first class, I might add.”

Delilah couldn’t deny she was getting just as excited. There was something stirring and adventurous about flying off to a secluded island for a night of fun. “Why pack sexy?”

“It’s part of the instructions with the invitation. And we both know that the buzz around Silverman’s lifestyle has always danced around outrageous sex parties. I don’t know what goes on at Silverman’s affairs, but I do know I plan to come back with the same gleam in my eye as Rebecca.”

Me too
, Delilah decided. She convinced herself she was overdue for a little spontaneous fun. She’d ended her relationship eight months ago with her last boyfriend, and possibly this island trip would pose an opportunity for an evening romp or two. Maybe she would find a gorgeous man to have a private
tête-à-tête
.

“I’m in.”

Once again, Delilah had to remove the receiver from her ear to preserve her hearing as Pamela began screaming her joy.

~YH~

“What do you think, Mr. Torres?”

Nicholas chuckled. Les only called him be his formal name during work hours. His friend was a stickler for professionalism during the work day. No one who knew Les professionally would believe how wild and crazy Les had been when they both were in college. As class president their junior and senior year, Les even had all the faculty and staff fooled.

Nicholas stared down at the open folders before him, in no particular order on his desk.

Les Carter, his best friend of twenty-five years, stared back at him from the monitor in the wall of his Madrid, Spain office. Les, his second in command, handled the US division from Torres Towers in Charlotte, North Carolina, when Nicholas was out of country, which was always. Les and his perfectly cut blonde hair and broad smile were a perfect face to give to Torres Corp.