IOU Sex (6 page)

I was a bundle of nerves as I stepped into my red suede peekaboo platform shoes with the four-inch heels. I was waxed within an inch of my life. Had painstakingly applied my makeup. Sported fat curls in my hair that cascaded over my bare shoulders and down my back. Was tucked into the tightest dress I’d ever worn, with a hem that ended mid-thigh and a bodice that dipped so low, my plumped-up breasts crested the V-shaped neckline. The sleeves were extra long, covering my wrists, one of which was circled by a diamond tennis bracelet.

I couldn’t believe my eyes as I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my bathroom. I looked like a completely different woman. One who knew how to let her hair down and have a good time. One who knew how to please a man like Michael Houston. Maybe even keep him.

My family would be shocked by my appearance. I’d never worn a red dress, and certainly not one as sexy as this. The curve-hugging fabric was strategically bunched around the shoulders and bodice, but then gave way to smooth material that clung to every inch of me.

Turning, I eyed my ass over my shoulder. Not bad at all.

I had a personal trainer to thank for the bod. A tanning booth and spa to thank for the skin. I couldn’t think of anything else I needed to give my double-fingered kiss-off to the happy couple. Except for him, of course.

As I stashed my tube of crimson-colored lipstick in my small clutch and grabbed my overnight tote, the doorbell rang. Crossing the hardwood floor carefully—I’d practiced wearing the shoes—I opened the door.

“Hey, you didn’t have to park the—” I stopped mid-sentence because his eyes bulged and his jaw dropped as he stared at me. My stomach coiled from both nervous anxiety and sexual tension. “Uh, what do you think?” I spread my arms wide then slowly turned so he could get the full effect.

He was speechless. Precisely the response I’d wanted. My apprehension eased a bit.

“Michael.” I playfully swatted at him with my clutch. “Say something.”

“Holy fucking shit.” He whistled.

I laughed. “Well, okay. I suppose that’ll do.”

“Jesus.” He reached a hand out and propped it against the doorframe, as though to steady himself. “Babe. You’re smokin’ hot.”

“Hardly the image of a scorned lover? Betrayed sister? Badgered daughter?”

“Hell, no.” He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me to him. “Son of a bitch,” he mused as one hand rested on the small of my back while the other one skimmed over my ass, giving it a squeeze. “Damn, you look good.”

“I guess so. You’re cussing like a sailor.”

“I feel like a sailor. One who’s been out to sea too long and in need of everything you have to offer.” He didn’t dare muss my hair or my makeup, but he did add, “Love the dress, but I still prefer you naked in my bed.”

“Later. Though…not too much later. I don’t intend to stay at the party long. Just need to show up so I can make my point that I’ve moved on. They deserve each other.”

He said, “I think this favor is taking a different turn. Hardly feels like you’re putting me out when you look this amazing.”

“Feel free to drool all over me in front of my family.”

“Bring on the bib.”

Extracting myself from his grasp, I said, “A bib would take away from your suit. You look quite handsome.”

I straightened his tie. In all actuality,
he
looked smokin’ hot. My toes curled in my peekaboos, and I felt tight and tingly all over. He wore a black suit and pewter-colored shirt with a matching silk tie. His dark brown hair dusted the collar at the nape of his neck, pushed back from his devastatingly handsome face. Very modern-day rake. Devilish, in fact. Definitely detrimental to a girl’s heart.

“I might be the one needing the bib,” I said.

“We’ll see who wants to leave the party first.”

“Hmph,” I mumbled. Likely me. And not because I was ready to escape my family. “Shall we get a move on?”

He took my tote, and I locked the door behind us before we headed down the stairs. Outside, his Porsche was parked at the curb. He held the door open for me as he gave me another appreciative once-over.

Shaking his head, he said, “It’s going to be hell keeping my hands off you.”

“No worries there. Have at it.”

“You’re really going for the gold, aren’t you?”

“Better believe it.”

He closed the door. I settled into the leather seat. I was still anxious over what I was about to do. Maybe I was a little off my rocker, but this was a prime opportunity to salvage my pride.

He climbed in next to me and started the car. “We should be fashionably late, as requested.”

I panicked a little over that decision, knowing my tardiness would grate on my mother’s nerves. Considering I was going to be wearing something completely over-the-top, arriving fifteen or twenty minutes late might push the envelope.

Too late to do anything about that now. I couldn’t turn back time and have him arrive earlier. I seriously had to shore up the defenses and jump into this idea with both feet. It really was an all-or-nothing game plan.

I made small talk on the drive to Napa while, in the back of my mind, I played out how I hoped the engagement party would go. The closer we got to the vineyard, the less chatty I felt.

Ten or fifteen minutes of silence passed. He asked, “You okay?”

I nodded. “Just freaking out a little. Maybe we should have left earlier so we could stop off for a drink before the party.”

He reached over and put his hand on my leg, giving it a squeeze. “Relax. We’ll rock it. Your family won’t know what hit them.”

We took the turn onto the long, winding road of the vineyard. When we reached the parking lot, I could barely breathe. It was filled with cars I recognized. The Bentleys, the Mercedes, the Jaguars. The Carlisle clan was out in spades. So too were the Corbetts.

I looked at Michael. “Maybe this is bad idea.”

“Oh, hell no.” He shut off the engine and got out of the car. “We’re in it to win it.”

I did a last-minute makeup and hair check and freshened my lipstick. I took a deep breath as the car door opened. Michael offered me his hand. Letting him help me out of the car, I gripped his hand so tightly he frowned.

“Hey, chill.”

I nodded and took a deep breath. “No turning back now.”

He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close to him. “You look fantastic. Don’t doubt it for a second. You’ll be the hottest woman here.”

I laughed. “You’re definitely good for my ego—and my nerve.”

Grinning at me, he said, “I’m actually looking forward to seeing you pull this off. I love witnessing a much-deserved comeuppance.”

“Just cross your fingers I don’t screw it up.”

He gave me a little squeeze. “Chin up.”

I lifted it a notch. Squared my shoulders. Ignored the tumble my stomach took as we crossed the asphalt parking lot. Yes, I was nervous, but having such a successful, intelligent and kindhearted man by my side was empowering. Comforting, even, because I knew he was a true friend.

“You really are a gem,” I told him.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

I actually smiled as we entered what Michael had so adequately termed the lion’s den.

In reality, it was a large white tent set up on the event lawn of the winery. The forecast called for a late-afternoon drizzle. Inside the tent, heaters kept the air toasty. A good thing, because I’d bypassed the overcoat, not wanting anything to detract from the dress.

As we walked in, my cousins Martin and Matthew did a double take. Uncle Lawrence gasped.

Aunt Judith narrowed her eyes as though staring at a mirage. “Fiona?” she asked, not quite recognizing me.

I greeted everyone as we passed by. Within seconds, heads snapped in our direction and conversations waned. Michael lifted two glasses of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter and handed one to me. I took it with shaky fingers, but felt much steadier when he placed his free hand against the small of my back.

I held my head a little higher and smiled at the guests, all doing double takes now, or craning their necks to look at us. I’m sure they were all shocked I’d had the guts to come to the party. Even more stunned, considering how I looked and whom I was with.

Michael bent his head and whispered in my ear, “You are definitely giving them something to talk about.”

He’d barely gotten the words out when Aunt Delia said, “Good Lord. You look…stunning.”

I was about to thank her when my mother’s high-and-mighty shrill suddenly filled the air. “Fiona Leslie Carlisle.” Disappointment. I recognized the tone.

She cut through the crowd like Moses parting the Red Sea. “You’re la—” She didn’t get the word
late
out. She stared at me, seeing my red dress, high heels and hot man for the first time. Her mouth gaped. Her eyes widened.

A hush fell over the crowd.

Aha, success! I’d left them all speechless.

“Sorry to be late, Mother,” I said with a smile I couldn’t contain. “We lost track of the time.” I’m sure there was a sparkle in my eye. And I’m sure it backed up my innuendo that we’d been up to no good. “You remember Michael Houston, don’t you?” I continued. “The photographer. He’s currently got a book on the New York Times Best Seller List.”

She didn’t say a word, just continued to stare at me.

There was a bit of a commotion in the crowd that had all turned to witness the spectacle I’d created. A moment later, Lizzie burst forth, dressed in a pale blue silk suit consisting of a long skirt and a short jacket. She wore diamond earrings that rivaled the massive rock on her left hand.

She took one look at me then turned her attention to our mother. “I told you she didn’t read the invitation, Mother.” To me, she said, “The attire is country club chic. Not Manhattan strip club.”

This garnered a few snickers from my relatives and the Corbetts. And one chuckle from the devilish man next to me.

Heat crept up my neck because I knew I was pushing some serious boundaries here and making a scene my family would fume over. Yet, I drew strength from Michael being in this with me. I also felt bold and daring because of the backbone I’d finally grown.

“This is supposed to be a party, isn’t it?” I pointed out. The band was about the only group that hadn’t fallen silent to witness the exchange between my sister and me. Turning to my date, I said, “Let’s dance.”

He grinned at me. To my family, he said, “Nice to see you all again.”

Then he led me out to the dance floor that was set up in front of a twelve-piece band. It took a few moments for the conversations to start up again. Michael and I deposited our drinks on a nearby table. As he pulled me into his arms, the discussions around us turned animated. I had no doubt we were the headlining topic.

My heart pounded and my stomach lurched into my throat, but I managed to ask, “Mission accomplished?”

“And then some.”

I bit back a grin. “Did you see the looks on their faces? Especially my mother and Lizzie.”

“I’d say this is one party they’ll be talking about for weeks to come.”

“Thank you for being here with me,” I said. It occurred to me that the thundering of my heart had little to do with the scene I’d just made or the fact that I was at my sister and ex-fiancé’s engagement party. Being with Michael, on his arm—in his arms—was what I found exhilarating.

As he whirled me around the floor, making me feel graceful even though I wasn’t particularly comfortable in such high heels, he said, “You realize you’re center stage. Everyone’s watching us.”

“That’s because we’re the only ones dancing. And because you are so unbelievably gorgeous.”

He laughed. “Trust me, they haven’t even gotten to me yet. They’re all still gawking over how sensational you look.”

I had to admit, I felt sensational. How could I not? Michael could have any woman he wanted…and he currently wanted me. In fact, his gaze never even wandered toward the other women in the tent. He seemed to only have eyes for me. This warmed my heart and gave me another little shot of that confidence I’d been lacking for far too long.

“I can’t imagine being here with anyone else,” I told him. “In fact, I knew the moment my mother mentioned the party, you were the only one who could help me survive this.”

He held me a little tighter and smiled down at me. “You’re the one taking all the risks. But we do make a good team.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”

We stayed out on the dance floor for several more songs. Then he retrieved fresh glasses of champagne for us. He guided me over to a quiet corner and gave me a serious look.

“I want us to get back together.”

My knees nearly knocked together. I knew he wouldn’t put that sentiment out there in an arbitrary way.

“Maybe,” I suggested, “we could go on another date.”

He shook his head. “I’m not talking about casual dating. I’m talking about an exclusive relationship. Spending nights together. Talking about what we want for the future.”

Anxiety skittered down my spine. “The future? I’m a little too emotionally charged this weekend to think about all of this. I need a clear head.”

“Tell me you’ll consider it.”

My toes were suddenly frosty. Of course, I wanted to be with him. But I was still emotionally timid and relationship gun-shy.

“I need…some time.” I looked away from him and caught one of my cousins flagging me down, beckoning me to join her group.

“Admit this feels right,” he persisted.

“You’re pushing too hard.” The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. I sighed. My emotions were too amped up for such a serious conversation. I knew I’d end up saying all the wrong things and retreating into my shell again to protect myself, when that was really no longer what I wanted. I needed some solid ground under me for longer than one night. I needed to be able to make decisions when I wasn’t on the spot during such a stressful time with my family.

But the way his jaw clenched made me fear he wouldn’t understand how I felt. I simply added, “I still have to get through this party. I’m sorry.”

I turned on my heels and made my way through the throng of people to get to Meredith. I had the feeling that was the last time Michael was going to broach this subject with me. I wouldn’t blame him if he gave up. But I was too in need of resolving my past to think about my future.