Kenzi laughed and decided two opinions might be better than one. “You can both hear this.” She started from the beginning, well as much of the beginning as she could remember, and both women listened quietly until she mentioned the gift Dax had sent her.
“That’s so sweet,” they said in unison.
She plowed on and said how she’d thanked him by sending a bottle of the cologne she’d smelled on him the night she’d met him.
“Genius,” Willa said.
“So hot,” Lexi said at the same time.
“So, when he called today, I thought he might jus
t have been thanking me for thanking him, but he asked me out to dinner tomorrow night.” He didn’t really ask me out. He more or less ordered me to be ready and dressed especially for him.
Kenzi fanned herself with her free hand.
“That’s awesome,” Willa said.
“He’s gorgeous,” Lexi added.
Kenzi lowered her voice and couldn’t stop smiling as she said, “He told me to wear something he’d spend the night thinking about tearing off me.” And the way he said it made me want him to—more than I want to admit to even myself.
“Oh. My. God,” Willa said.
“I just wet my panties,” Lexi joked.
“That’s disgusting,” Willa reprimanded.
“Prude,” Lexi countered.
“Porn-star mouth.”
“Really? That’s the best you could do?”
Years of friendship with them had taught Kenzi to never take how they spoke to each other seriously. They rarely actually argued, but they did love to verbally spar over almost everything. Normally their banter would have her laughing, but she had a purpose for the call. “Could we focus here? I think he likes me.”
“Um, yeah,” Lexi said with heavy sarcasm.
“But you shouldn’t let him talk to you like that. Wear a turtleneck and nun shoes. Make a statement that he has to respect you. That’s what I’d do.”
“And that’s why you never get laid, Willa,” Lexi countered. “I have the perfect dress that will guarantee he’ll walk funny all night. Our photo shoot tomorrow was canceled. Willa, let’s give Kenzi a makeover. Come on. It’ll be fun.”
Hearing Lexi’s excitement made her date with Dax that much more real. There were things about herself that she’d never felt comfortable talking about, not even with them. When they’d first met she’d still been in a self-destructive place. They’d glimpsed some of it, but she’d kept the worst of it hidden. She didn’t want to talk about the past. She didn’t want to be the product of her past. She wanted to enjoy this the same way any woman would, so she blocked off a part of herself and kept her voice cheerful. “I like this guy. I mean, I don’t know him. I only met him when I was drunk, but what I remember was amazing.”
“That sounds like every relationship Lexi has had,” Willa joked. “Ouch.”
Lexi added, “Don’t listen to her. You called the right one of us for advice. At least I date. Ouch. Don’t pinch me.”
“Then don’t pinch me.”
Kenzi burst out laughing. Even something as wildly confusing as a date with a man like Dax was less scary when plotted with her best friends. “Can we compromise and come up with an outfit that is tastefully sexy?”
“I’ll do your makeup,” Willa promised.
“I’ll bring some outfits over,” Lexi said.
She felt young, sexy, and excited about seeing a man she’d been thinking about for weeks. She pushed back the memories of him throwing her dress back at her on the beach and saying he didn’t care if she drank or not, implying he didn’t care enough about her for it to matter. She didn’t want to think about how he’d sent someone else to check in on her the morning after they’d met. No, that wasn’t who she was going on a date with. The Dax Marshall she was imagining was the one who had sent her the sound of waves because he knew they calmed her. A man who had seen her at her worst, heard her, and wanted to get to know her better.
Which Dax would show up on the date?
There was only one way to know.
His flight to Boston was long and exhausting. Dax usually slept, but he was too restless. His mood wasn’t the best for sitting through meeting after meeting on next to no sleep. He met with several US department heads, checked in globally on a variety of projects and, in general, tried not to watch the clock. He told himself business was the main reason for his trip, and dinner with Kenzi was merely a bonus. He attributed his inattention to fatigue.
He read a brief on the latest state of Poly-Shyn but tabled taking action on it. If he did move forward, he wanted the decision to be based on the numbers and not whatever was twisting his insides up. He forced himself to plow through back-to-back phone calls before conceding to himself that his office was the last place he wanted to be.
Late afternoon, he informed his office staff he was leaving early. He didn’t explain and they didn’t ask. They were likely relieved that, unlike his last visit to the Boston office, their own workday wouldn’t be extended along with his past midnight. They probably thought he was off to a business dinner given how his state-side personal life was non-existent. Whenever he came to Boston, he was all business.
Until Kenzi.
He showered and changed into a new suit with a speed he attributed to efficiency rather than admitting he was impatient to see Kenzi again. He stood in front of a full-length mirror and for once didn’t like what he saw. His suit had been tailored to fit him by arguably the best men’s clothing designer in London, but it didn’t look right. He remembered how Kenzi had confused him with a hired bodyguard, and he could see why. He never dressed down, not even for a celebratory walk of the grounds of an island resort. He looked stiff.
He removed his tie and unbuttoned the top button on his shirt. Kenzi was close to his age, but she had a younger air about her.
Dax met his eyes in the mirror and shook his head in amused disgust. Look at me, worried if some woman will find me attractive. What, am I back in high school? She’s probably nothing like I remember her. Weeks of thinking about her had given his imagination free rein to enhance her beauty. There was no way he would find her figure as perfect as he remembered. Her eyes would never be as easy to lose himself in. The pull she had over him would soon be shown to have been exaggerated.
For all I know, she’ll be drunk again tonight, and how I look will be irrelevant.
Unless she’d been honest that night and it really was a one-time aberration because she needed to forget something.
Which would also make how I look unimportant. If she’s scared or running from something, I won’t take advantage of that.
In summation, there is very little chance sex is on the menu.
Then what the hell am I doing here?
He couldn’t answer that question, so he didn’t try. He turned away from the mirror and gathered up his wallet and phone. Seeing her again would prove once and for all that she was no different from every other woman he’d known.
Only then would things go back to normal.
He impulsively ordered his driver to stop a few blocks from her apartment when he saw a street vendor selling roses, but when the driver waited for instructions, he gave none. Dax wasn’t the type who brought flowers. He took women to dinner or to a social event. Sometimes the evening ended with a romp in her bed, but it wasn’t something he put much thought into. Sex was as natural as breathing, and he’d always felt sorry for those who had to dress it up as more to engage in it.
Like his father who had married practically every woman he’d fucked. Vows meant nothing. Flowers meant even less. He knew many men who sent dozens of roses when they felt bad about screwing someone besides their wife. Skip the foliage and keep your dick in your pants.
The idea of entering into anything that would lead to sending a forgive-me-for-not-wanting-to-fuck-only-you bouquet was enough to have Dax waving the driver to keep going.
“Are you sure, sir?” the driver asked.
“Yes,” Dax said firmly.
The driver pulled back into traffic, and they rode in silence until he parked in front of Kenzi’s apartment building. He walked around to open Dax’s door and Dax got out but stood for a long moment simply staring at the building.
Kenzi was a complicated woman, and he didn’t like complicated. She was troubled, and he avoided emotional situations. If she needed a soft shoulder to cry on, she wouldn’t find one with him. Life had hardened him. He had little patience for his own emotions, never mind anyone else’s. He studied the windows above and wondered which was hers.
I need t
o know she’s okay.
He walked up the stone steps, into the foyer, and pressed the button beneath her name. When she answered her voice was breathless and excited.
“Hello?”
“I’m downstairs.”
“Okay, come on up. Unless you want me to come down. Of course you do. Why would you want to come up when we’re leaving right away? I’ll come down.” She sounded adorably flustered.
Sexy and feminine.
Fuck.
Dax tensed. He stood there impatiently waiting for her like some schoolboy on his first date. When the elevator doors opened and he saw the little black dress and those beautifully bare legs that went on for miles, he swallowed hard. The higher his eyes traveled, the tighter the crotch of his pants became on his swelling cock. The neckline of the dress dipped low enough to reveal a swell of breasts, deep enough for him to wonder if she’d worn a bra.
He groaned.
I told her to wear something I’d spend all night wanting to tear off her.
I’m a fucking masochist.
Chapter Five
Dax watched Kenzi so intensely she hoped she didn’t trip as she walked toward him. He didn’t rush forward to greet her when she walked out of the elevator, but there was a fire in his eyes and a hint of a smile on his lips. Kenzi came to a stop about a foot in front of him. She’d meant to stop sooner, but as she tilted her head back to look up at him, she admitted to herself he was a temptation she wanted to give in to.
She bit her bottom lip and waited for him to say something. When he didn’t, she enjoyed the way her body hummed simply by being close to him. Exactly as she remembered, but better. There was no confusion this time. No wondering if how she felt was being enhanced by inebriation. No, regardless of how little sense it made, her body was one hundred fifty percent positive this man was exactly what she needed.
“We should go,” he said in a husky voice as if he knew what she was thinking, and his mind was full of the same decadent images of them together.
“Yes,” she said. His nostrils flared at her whispered response.
