Sexual Persuasion (2 page)

“Oh, Mickey,” Emily whined in Marilyn Monroe breathless fashion, “I’ve told you about Trends, remember? It’s where I want to buy all the furniture to renovate your stuffy old house.”

“Yes, darling. I remember.” He turned to Charlotte. “What a magnificent reason to see you again, my dear.”

His gaze
lasered on Charlotte’s chest. When the evening was over, she’d bet Mr. Bulge-eyed Branigan wouldn’t remember her face because he hadn’t made eye contact since he introduced himself. She hated it whenever anyone looked at her as if she were a hooker. Well, let the old pervert drool. Let Mr. Gorgeous pop his eyeballs. She’d chosen her daring designer creation to prove that Charlotte Stone had begun a new phase of her life, and she didn’t need a man to give her confidence.

Darcy sipped her water while listening to the overdressed dowager next to her. One by one, other members of their table entered. Michael Branigan seemed to know everyone and made the introductions. While Charlotte acknowledged her tablemates, she froze when she heard the name of the next arrival. He wasn’t sitting at their table, but his name echoed in her head like a bad dream that lingered the whole day.
And the next. In her case, three months.

“Charlotte Stone and Darcy Haven, I’d like to present Jack Davidson and his guest,
um…”

“Candy Gayheart,” Jack said, eyeing Charlotte. “Ms. Stone and I are old friends. How are you, Charlotte? Long time no see.”

“Fine, Jack. Never better.”
You’re over him, Charlotte. Forget the churning in the pit of your stomach, or you’ll lose what’s left of your lunch before you enjoy Mr. Louis’s dinner. He’s a scuzz, and you’re too good for him.

As always, Jack ogled her body, a destination he knew quite well. His lips twitched into a wicked smile that would send any red-blooded woman panting after him. She ought to know. She’d been one of them. Then Jack Davidson―hotel heir, playboy extraordinaire, and first-class woman magnet―dumped her like a bucket of dirty water when she balked after he’d taken their BDSM games to an unacceptable level. She didn’t mind a little kink, but when she said uncle, she meant it. She’d never given a thought that Jack might be at the auction. Damn him!

Darcy must have noticed her discomfort, because she grabbed Charlotte’s arm. “Let’s go to the little girl’s room before they start serving. Your nose is shiny.”

“It is? Um, okay.” She shrugged to Branigan.
“Can’t have a shiny nose. Excuse us.”

“Your nose looks fine to me,” Branigan said, now checking out her ass.

Darcy put her arm through Charlotte’s and tugged her along. “Hold on. Almost everyone’s at their tables. There won’t be a crowd in the restroom. You look like you’re going to faint.”

“I’m not,” Charlotte said. “I’m mad. How dare he ruin my evening?”

They got to the ladies’ lounge. Fortunately, the two women in there were leaving. Darcy wet a paper towel with cold water, lifted Charlotte’s hair, and placed it on the back of her neck. “Don’t forget what he did. You need to go out there and act like he doesn’t exist. Screw him.”

Screwing him is what I did to get to this place.
“Right. I don’t need Jack Davidson in my life. In fact, I don’t need any man in my life to make me feel worthy.”

“Let’s not carry it too far, girlfriend. Now pull yourself together.”

“I’m allowed one time, aren’t I? One time to lose it?”

“One and that’s all,” Darcy said.

Charlotte heard her friend’s reproachful tone. Her thoughts wandered helplessly back to the good times she’d enjoyed with Jack. To the weekends on his yacht. To the many nights of great sex. She’d fallen hard, but when she woke naked in his third-floor sex hideaway, wrists and ankles handcuffed to the bed, and he wouldn’t release her, he’d gone too far. She lost it. Sex games involved trust―both parties agreeing on what to do and how far to go. Jack didn’t understand that. He gave in, but that was their last night together. She’d heard he’d taken up with a stripper. Why put up with her when that floozy on his arm tonight would probably do whatever he wanted?

Charlotte glanced in the mirror. “Look at me. How can the new Charlotte Stone be as pale as a fish belly?”

“Here, put on some lipstick. Do you have any blush?”

“No. Darn. I didn’t have room.” She held up a jeweled clutch the size of an avocado.

“I have some.” Darcy extracted a gold compact from her evening bag. “Here.”

Charlotte took it and brushed some color onto her cheeks. “Jack looked amazing. Why does he have to look so good?”

“Stop thinking about him,” Darcy said. “You can do a hundred times better. The new Charlotte needs to get her groove back. Come on, let’s go.”

Charlotte straightened, shoulders back. “I’m the new Charlotte Stone.” Under her breath, she chanted mantra-like, “I can do this. I can do this.”

As they made their way back to the main salon, Jack waited off to the side. He stepped in front of them and blocked their way. “Let me speak to her alone, Darcy.”

Darcy snarled, “You son of a―”

Charlotte felt a surge of confidence. “It’s okay, Darcy. I’ll be right there.” She took a deep breath and met Jack’s gaze. She didn’t want this slug in her life, and she’d make damn sure he knew it.

Darcy sneered at Jack, sniffed as if the air reeked, and sauntered off.

Jack pulled Charlotte to a quiet corner. “You look more delectable than ever. Good enough to eat. I’d forgotten how beautiful these were.” His fingers tiptoed over the exposed flesh of her chest, pinching a nipple through her dress. “Not many women can carry those off without looking like a tart. But you…you’re class all the way.”

Charlotte slapped his hand away. Jack knew from experience her nipples were her prime erogenous zone. One tweak got her hot and wet, and she couldn’t do a thing about it. “You have no right to those anymore, Jack. We’re finished.
Over. You made sure of that when you dumped me.”

“Big mistake on my part, honey.
I’ve been sorry ever since. We had some good times, didn’t we?” He tightened his grip on her arm, digging his fingers into her flesh. “Don’t be hasty. We can work this out.”

“You’re hurting me. Let go. Go back to your Candy Cane, or whatever her name is.”

“I screwed up that night. I should have been more considerate of you. But we both had too much to drink. It’ll never happen again. Promise.”

“Don’t give me that. I wasn’t drunk.”

Jack hesitated. “You were, babe. You passed out. Like a light.”

“That’s your story. Now get out of my way.”

“Give me another chance.” Undaunted by her pleas, Jack tucked his middle finger into her cleavage and wiggled it. “What do you say if after the auction you dump Darcy, I get rid of Candy, and we have a couple of drinks at my place? Just the two of us.”

“No way.
Now let me go.” She tried to push him away, but Jack lifted the hem of her skirt and found the cleft of her pussy, holding her in place. His fingers massaged her through the silky fabric of her thong.

“I can tell you’re excited.”

“I am not.” She tried to free herself, but he’d pinned her to the wall.

His hot breath filled her ear when he spoke. “You never used to push me away when I did this to you. In fact, you always liked hand sex. Not as much as when I licked. Have you forgotten how good sex was between us, Charlotte? Wouldn’t you like that again?”

The old Charlotte Stone might have given in, but she wasn’t that person any more. “What is it about the word
over
you don’t understand? Over, Jack. That means get your hands off me. Can’t you understand that?”

“Not when it comes to your pussy.” He pushed against her harder. “And those delicious, magnificent―”

“Is this man bothering you, Charlotte?”

The unexpected intrusion stopped Jack cold. Charlotte didn’t recognize the voice.
Strong, commanding attention. She almost lost her train of thought. Craning her neck over Jack’s shoulder, she saw the dark stranger who’d stared at her when she entered the museum. The crooked lawyer Darcy insisted was gay. He appeared out of nowhere. What did Darcy say his name was?
Think, Charlotte. Alex. Alex something. Andrews. No, Andros. That was it.

“Oh, Alex,” she said, displaying calmness she didn’t feel. Her gaze met Jack’s, and she pushed him aside. He relented but still kept a firm grip on her arm. “Um, yes, he is, as a matter of fact. Would you mind walking me back to my table, please?”

“My pleasure.” Andros moved toward Jack and removed his hand from Charlotte’s arm. “I believe your conversation with the lady is over.”

Jack nudged Andros out of the way. “Get lost, buddy. The
lady
and I aren’t finished talking, and you’re not invited to join in.”

Andros looked around, obviously checking to see if anyone stood nearby. He shoved Jack away from Charlotte and up against the wall, then got right in his face. His low, steady voice frosted the air. “You wouldn’t want to bet on that, would you?”

Jack’s face turned red. “Take your hands off me, or you’ll answer to my lawyer.”

Andros’s lips twisted into an almost smile, but Charlotte saw a hint of menace. This man did not suffer threats.

“Be my guest.” He slipped his hand into the inner pocket of his tux and drew out a slim gold card holder. He opened it and handed a business card to Jack. “Have him contact me. I look forward to talking with him.”

Jack studied the card. His face paled, and he stepped away. “You’re―”

“That’s right. I am.”

Andros’s matter-of-fact tone conveyed the confidence of a man who knew exactly who he was. And by the look on Jack’s face, so did he. The attorney wrapped a proprietary hand around Charlotte’s arm and, in a gentle manner, guided her toward the main salon. She hoped he couldn’t feel the tremors rattling through her body.

He smiled at her. The ominous squint he’d directed at Jack turned into concern when he searched her face. “Are you okay?”

Charlotte fumed that her new persona allowed Jack to go where he did and that she
required a rescue operation. But gratitude won out, along with relief that this man came along. She nodded. “How did you know my name?”

“How did you know mine?”

“I asked first.”

“I saw you at Mike Branigan’s table and asked who you were. I hope you don’t mind. Of course, if you liked where Davidson’s hands were, maybe I shouldn’t have interfered.”

Heat filled her face. “I didn’t, and I appreciate what you did. Do you know Jack?”

“I know of him, and he knows of me. Not by sight, by name.”

“That was obvious. Why? Or shouldn’t I ask?”

“He does business with my boss. Now, I answered your question. You haven’t answered mine.”

She wondered what business Jack had with a mob boss but then thought about Jack’s love of gambling and realized the plausibility of his connection to a racketeer. She met Andros’s gaze and nearly lost it. She expected black eyes to match his coal black hair, glistening almost blue under the lights of the chandeliers. But up close, they were an unusual color, hazel with strong strains of gold, like cat’s eyes. She’d never seen any quite like them, especially on someone with his coloring. She breathed in his scent, something citrusy and woodsy and deliciously intoxicating. Concentrating on anything other than his presence challenged her.

“My friend’s an attorney. You were staring at me when we came in, so I asked if she knew you. She did. She said you’re the lawyer for the man who controls all the rackets in town.”

He huffed out a chuckle. “Looks like we’re even in the curiosity department. Your friend is half right. I am an attorney, but my boss controlling
all
the rackets is a myth. He’s a businessman.”

“If my friend was right, would you confirm it?”

The intensity of his gaze caused the blood to rush to Charlotte’s face. She forgot the more than two hundred people attending.

“I always tell the truth,” he said, now sporting a full smile that cut deep laugh lines on the sides of his mouth, dimple-like. “It’s a character flaw. I’m curious. What else did your friend say about me?”

“Just rumors about your―” Charlotte debated whether to come out and say it. Whatever his sexual persuasion, Alex Andros had saved her from a potentially embarrassing situation. She wouldn’t call him on something so personal.

“About my what?”

Now she sensed he was playing with her.

“Don’t worry about repeating a rumor,” he said. “I’ve heard them all.”

But what the hell! She was the new Charlotte. “Your sexuality.” They stood there, gazes locked.

“You mean that I’m gay?”

Charlotte’s knees felt like they were going to buckle from under her. What possessed her to bring that up? “That’s the rumor, and you know what they say. If it walks like a duck―”

“And quacks like a duck, it must be a duck. So you think I’m a duck?”

Charlotte couldn’t help laughing. “I have to say you’re a cool one.”

“All that aside, let’s say I’m a duck in disguise who wants to ask you out to dinner. Nothing fancy, just dinner.
Unless you’re prejudiced against ducks.”