The One That I Want
Michelle Monkou
Just the woman he needs…Since learning he’s part of the wealthy, powerful Meadows family, Professor Dresden Haynes has tried in vain to stay out of the spotlight— but it has inevitably found him. The only thing more difficult has been to stop filling his thoughts with visons of the gorgeous Laxmi Holder. A friend of his newly discovered relatives, ambitious, free-spirited Laxmi might just tempt the unruffled academic to let loose for once…Despite her outer confidence, entertainment manager Laxmi is trying hard to prove herself in a competitive industry. Yet she can’t resist taking time to turn Dresden’s orderly world upside down. His serious, sexy vibe intrigues her. But helping him take his place as the long-lost Meadows heir is driving a wedge between them. With trust at a premium, will Dresden lose his chance with the woman who might be his perfect opposite—and his perfect match?
Just the woman he needs...
Since learning he’s part of the wealthy, powerful Meadows family, Professor Dresden Haynes has tried in vain to stay out of the spotlight—but it has inevitably found him. The only thing more difficult has been to stop filling his thoughts with visions of the gorgeous Laxmi Holder. A friend of his newly discovered relatives, ambitious, free-spirited Laxmi might just tempt the unruffled academic to let loose for once...
Despite her outer confidence, entertainment manager Laxmi is trying hard to prove herself in a competitive industry. Yet she can’t resist taking time to turn Dresden’s orderly world upside down. His serious, sexy vibe intrigues her. But helping him take his place as the long-lost Meadows heir is driving a wedge between them. With trust at a premium, will Dresden lose his chance with the woman who might be his perfect opposite—and his perfect match?
“You’re the perfect superhero type,” she mused.
“Now you’re being cruel.”
“Nope. It’s always the quiet types who have the deepest strength. The others are brute force and brawn. Boring. The intellectuals have a delightful way of taking their time, stroking their way, biding their time to the happy ending.”
He puffed up his chest. “Yeah. Do I need an S on my chest?”
“No, you need something original. Mysterious, dark, brooding.”
“I don’t brood.”
“You think hard.” She smiled. “Better.”
“Every superhero needs a leading lady.”
“Are you holding auditions?”
“Only have one person in mind.”
“I wonder who that will be.”
“She’ll know. They always know that they are the one.”
“But then they let the superhero go because he’s got a destiny bigger than hers.”
“Or she takes a step back out of fear.”
Laxmi stopped eating and pointed her chopsticks at him. “What woman has been afraid to step up to be with her superhero?”
Dear Reader (#u1808e206-a2da-5c1a-a000-b8fdd0ca3587),
In this latest installment, the Meadows family have all had their adventures. I hope that you’ve stayed with each cousin to enjoy her unique journey to self-discovery and love. Coming from a small family, I always imagined what a large extended one would be like—maybe a little comedy, a lot of drama, but love and loyalty would always rule.
With each story, I wanted to bring challenges and opportunities that were relatable and entertaining. Our heartstrings needed a little tugging as we witnessed the romance and all it meant as each couple’s life blossomed in a special way.
I hope that, in your life, you are surrounded by a circle of friends, family and relatives who are bringing joy, laughter and much love to your space.
May your dreams come true,
Michelle
The One That I Want
Michelle Monkou
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
MICHELLE MONKOU became a world traveler at the age of three, when she left her birthplace of London, England, and moved to Guyana, South America. She then moved to the US as a young teen. Michelle was nominated for the 2003 Emma Award for Favorite New Author, and continues to write romances with complex characters and intricate plots.
Visit her website for further information at www.michellemonkou.com (http://www.michellemonkou.com) or contact her at michellemonkou@comcast.net.
To the Harlequin Kimani staff, thank you for the many years of support to bring my stories to life.
Acknowledgments (#u1808e206-a2da-5c1a-a000-b8fdd0ca3587)
With the recent passing of my mother, it has been a time of loss and reflection. I want to extend my appreciation and gratitude for the kind words and thoughts during this time from Glenda Howard, Shannon Criss, Carly Silver and Keyla Hernandez. Your continued support helped with the completion of this book and series.
Contents
Cover (#uff53f4c6-ff0b-55ab-ba7a-32c9ff155db9)
Back Cover Text (#u259491b8-97f9-5e96-b862-4fbf1b151659)
Introduction (#u3a4e9ec4-c697-55b1-b656-19590a4fcd00)
Dear Reader (#uf9d126a6-3cf3-5194-8a20-c7ec4c319fbf)
Title Page (#ucbf8f00a-58bd-5aad-a78c-5390cf48289c)
About the Author (#u0e421aef-0e4d-50d4-b43a-7e0de0fd52e1)
Dedication (#u71e85cba-662d-5383-a404-f8caaabbb3a6)
Acknowledgments (#u9d0f504e-21ed-5e5e-a029-3a86d183b687)
Chapter 1 (#ud10018b7-5dec-5f19-ae9a-3e3e4eb27e21)
Chapter 2 (#u1809a4a0-515a-5efa-ae09-efbfee14963c)
Chapter 3 (#u7c880976-e528-5d08-a1a5-41ed28b27526)
Chapter 4 (#u5c3939af-fdb7-5eca-a952-bf1face3dc38)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#u1808e206-a2da-5c1a-a000-b8fdd0ca3587)
Dresden Haynes stepped in from the biting, wintry mix into the cozy warmth of his parents’ home. Instead of the customary deluge of holiday decorations to usher in Christmas, the first floor was an exhibition of widespread chaos. For the first time in a while, he wouldn’t spend the holidays with his parents. This time he’d stay in Toronto while his parents, Patrick and Charlotte, no-longer-retired globe-trekkers, soon would be off to Kazakhstan as engineering consultants for a three-year stint on a water treatment contract.
This latest nudge to rock his routine off-kilter was one of many this year. All of it, especially a surprise meet-up with some members of his birth family and now the lengthy absence of his adoptive family, was out of his comfort zone.
Frenzied sounds of his parents’ preparations hit him in intermittent bursts. Overhead his father’s frustrations verbally punctuated the air just before loud, dull thuds and dragging sounds scraped against the ceiling. An assortment of suitcases blocked access to the staircase. Meanwhile, brown boxes outlined a path toward the kitchen, where he saw his mother with her sleeves rolled up.
Taking careful steps, he navigated his way through the foyer, around the assortment of boxes and down the hallway. Her determined expression remained rigid as she looked up at an awful abstract painting above the pantry door. He bit back the smile over her loud, dramatic sighs that floated toward him.
“Bought it at a yard sale. I think you should take it.” Charlotte shifted her attention as he approached to greet her with a kiss on the cheek.
“Let the new renters enjoy it.” Dresden failed to hide his shudder at the hideous collision of colors that masqueraded as art.
“You could move in until we return.”
“Nope. I like my place just fine.” His parents had chosen the suburbs, but he liked downtown Toronto with its beehive busyness. “And you know that my commute is closer to the university.”
“At least keep an eye on the place while we’re gone.”
“Stop worrying. I’ll play the grumpy landlord whenever necessary.” Dresden playfully bumped his mother’s shoulder. “Dutiful son. History professor. Landlord—I’m your best son ever.” And she was the best mother ever.
“Don’t run off our renters, either.” His mother softly slapped his arm.
Dresden nodded, also hoping she wouldn’t add last-minute items to his list of tasks.
Charlotte bustled past him toward the stove and lifted the lid off a small pot. “I don’t have much in the house to make a meal. Your dad and I’ve been eating out for the past two days. That’s tiresome and not great food. This morning’s feast?” She scrunched her nose to mimic his reaction to the offering of congealed oatmeal.
Dresden shook his head. “I’m fine. Ate not too long ago.”
“What brings you here? Not that I’m unhappy to see you. But we did have a really nice goodbye dinner with you last night,” she said as she opened cabinets, inspected the empty space and pulled out any forgotten items.
What did bring him there? A need. One that gnawed at his center. Although he suffered no physical pain, he felt a heaviness as the day broke and the hours until his parents’ departure grew closer.
“Thought you might need a hand. No matter how much you plan, there is always something that goes off-script. Decided to pop over, just in case...” He shrugged out of his jacket, tossed it on a chair and joined her with inspecting the higher out-of-reach cabinets.
“We’re fine. Movers will be here within the hour. And I do have one more day before boarding the plane.” She paused and a hint of a frown flittered on her forehead. “You, however, don’t have one more day to face your destiny.”
Dresden stared into the empty space of a cabinet. Not a speck of dirt in sight. However, his mood mirrored the bleak emptiness of the shelves. The void in his soul couldn’t give a glimpse of the future, and it didn’t offer any solutions, either.
The blame for his unsettled feelings sat squarely at one person—Verona, his birth mother—and her family, the Meadowses.
His parents, whom he refused to think of in any other capacity, had never hid the fact that he was adopted. They’d never shared the details, allowing him to choose whether he wanted to know. And he didn’t. Had no desire to unseat his parents from their position in his life.
But when Grace Meadows took his choice away with her revealing letter, the surprise had sucked the breath out of his lungs. She’d forced him to face the truth, to acknowledge that another woman and her family were connected to him. Her entreaty, though polite, had shredded his world, leaving him to question how he should or should not feel.
Then, like an encore performance, Leo Starks, her lawyer, further made inroads with his heartbreaking story about the loss of his family and finding love again with Fiona, Grace’s granddaughter. That same granddaughter, his half sister, had managed to breach his defensive wall with her fresh outlook and honesty, to extend a hand of friendship. One that he’d accepted, but not without conditions. He wanted nothing to do with Verona—the woman who’d given birth to him.
Despite his rules of engagement, because he was a Meadows, with their international news and lifestyle media empire, the media spotlight had turned on him. Why did the Meadowses have the power to whip up a fog of confusion around his life?
Dresden sighed, wishing for more palatable options to materialize for his sake.
“You’ve got to attend Grace Meadows’s birthday party.” Charlotte had a knack for delivering the toughest messages wrapped in soothing tones and gentle smiles. “You’ve already booked your flight for tonight. No procrastinating.”
“I can meet them anytime.”
“It’s your grandmother’s eightieth birthday.”
“Grace.” He couldn’t help the correction. Only in his thoughts did he play with such familiar terms of his birth family. Grandmother. Mother. Sister. But to say those words aloud and attach them to the respective member of the Meadows family—well, he couldn’t stop the constriction that gripped his throat when he envisioned the scenario.
“Go celebrate Grace’s life. She would love seeing you there.”
“How would you know?” He turned his back and busied himself with inspecting another set of cabinets.
“Because I want them to see what a wonderful and respectable man you’ve turned out to be.”
Throughout his childhood, to him, his mother was the average working mom. To his school friends, she had this larger-than-life persona, like a female Indiana Jones, who wasn’t afraid to work in faraway, sometimes dangerous, places.
“Ah...so that’s the true reason you want me to go. For your glory,” he teased.
“Can you blame me? We’d hoped you’d be prepared for this eventuality. That’s why we never hid your adoption from you. Nothing to be ashamed or afraid of by you or by us. Besides, you’re a dashing gentleman. With a forgiving heart...right?”
Dresden’s laughter erupted into a roar that took a few seconds to die down. “You certainly know how to flatter and sway the wind to your favor.”
“That’s how I got your dad.” Charlotte retrieved his jacket, handing it to him. Then she slipped her hand through his arm. “Now, come with me.” She tightened her grip and walked him out of the kitchen and down the hallway. “You shouldn’t waste another minute trying to figure out your next step. You already know.”
“I’m feeling manhandled,” he protested.
“And you’d be absolutely right.” They made it into the foyer. Her hand still wound around his arm.
“Is that you, Dresden? I’m coming right down.” His father’s footsteps crossed the room overhead.
“No need to come down, Patrick,” his mother shouted up the stairs. “He’s heading out now.” She opened the door and, with more muscle than Dresden was prepared for, pushed him outside onto the porch.
“Really, you want me to go hobnob with the Meadowses.” All kidding aside, Dresden couldn’t believe how adamant his mother was on the issue.
“Yep, pretty much. I want you to be kind and make that old woman happy.”
“I agree with your mother. Go and show respect for your elders.” His father popped into view next to his wife.
They were the trifecta of a perfect match, with brains, beauty and marital bliss. Way beyond his talent and abilities. His parents were a unique couple who enjoyed their intense, but sometimes chaotic, lives. To Dresden, they had set the bar on life and love way too high for him to successfully follow.
“Don’t think she’d want to be called old,” Dresden muttered. Suffering under the wintry conditions, his teeth chattered, joining in with the uncontrollable shivering of his body.
“Good. Later you can share with me what other things she doesn’t like.”
“I didn’t say that I’d go.”
“They aren’t the bad guys in your story. Right now, it might feel that way. But, trust me, after a few more decades of life under your belt, you may feel differently.”
“Well, until that time comes—”
His mother interrupted with her palm raised in the universal stop sign. “We’ll see you in the spring. Skype and FaceTime will be our means for chatting. I do love you, son. But you’ve got a birthday party to run off to. Stop dawdling.”
The door closed. Lock turned.
Dresden blew on his frozen fingers, hoping she was kidding. Not until his ears started to suffer from stinging numbness did he declare defeat. Dresden flipped up the collar of his jacket to ward off the frigid temperature. He headed toward his car to retreat from the battle.
* * *
Laxmi Holder’s party days were long over. Now she was staying out of the spotlight, in case any lingering fans recognized her; that had prompted her low profile, especially on social media. Now she was the average citizen, trying to get her daily hustle on from her home base of Brooklyn instead of Los Angeles. From being a singer to managing one, she had switched viewpoints on the same playground.
Returning home meant that she could either reestablish her friendships or make new ones. Her retention rate on that front was abysmal, except for one friend—Fiona Meadows—with whom she really wanted to invest the time to rebuild their bond.
She reread the invitation that Fiona had hand-delivered to her. The Meadowses were celebrating the matriarch’s—Grace’s—birthday. It took a bit of cajoling from Fiona to get her to respond in the affirmative.
The excitement over going to the media mogul’s birthday gave way to a case of dread a few hours before she was due to leave for the party. She wasn’t a celebrity—got close, though. Then her career had suffered a fast-burn to nothing.
A wardrobe of nice clothes, a fast sports car and tiny savings were the remnants of her former life. Now she’d have to go among New York’s elite and the world’s richest and pretend that she belonged.
“Well, here goes nothing,” she remarked to her mirrored reflection before heading out.
* * *
Five hours later Dresden exited New York City’s John F. Kennedy Airport and stepped into the waiting limo. Unless he grabbed the driver by the shoulder in a fit of panic to force a detour, Dresden was bound for the iconic Winthorpe International Hotel.
The saying “sit back and enjoy the ride” didn’t really hold true. He was far from comfortable in the quiet, luxurious confines of the limo. Standing in front of a college class of forty to fifty university students talking about Canada’s natives, settlers and conquistadors didn’t faze him. But heading to a birthday party in one of the swankiest New York City hotels, with New York’s elite, for one of New York’s most influential moguls—who happened to be his grandmother—turned his gut into a queasy mess.
Dresden kept up a steady routine of rubbing his hands along his pant legs as the limo sped along to its destination. The clammy state of his palms didn’t bode well. People would shake his hand and give him the side-eye of disgust.
Horns blared. Messengers on bikes shouted warnings. Tour buses rumbled along with camera-ready riders. The New York City vibe had an effective way of delivering a potent shot of adrenaline to the system. With nervous energy already pumping through him, his pulse stayed at hyper level. He offered up a prayer of gratitude as the limo pulled up in front of the hotel. He needed his feet on firm ground.
A grinning uniformed porter briefly touched the brim of his cap before holding open the limo door. “Welcome to the Winthorpe. It’s our pleasure to be of service.”
“Thank you.” Dresden shoved his hands deep into his coat pockets, now feeling more than a bit self-conscious about its average, off-the-rack style. Even the staff outstyled him with their crisp white gloves.
“Any luggage?” The porter looked questioningly at the driver then at Dresden.
“None. I’m here for the Meadows reception.”
“Please step inside with your invitation and you’ll be escorted to the event.”
Dresden retrieved the important gold-embossed passport from his pocket and complied with the porter’s instructions.
In the lobby a dedicated attendant for the reception checked the invitation and escorted him to the ballroom’s entrance. There, a second attendant checked his invitation against a computerized list. Like a baton handed over for the next leg of the trip, a third attendant escorted him into the ballroom.
The expansive size of the room, the over one hundred decorated tables and chairs, the high ratio of staff to guests—all conspired to push his pulse into overdrive. He almost bumped into a passing waiter as he gaped at every drip and drop of glitz and glamour. Lifestyles of the rich and famous gathered under one roof.
As they were about to head down the middle of the room to what he presumed to be the head table, Dresden needed a minute to get the nerves under control. His heart raced as if amped by a massive dose of adrenaline. Although not hit by dizziness, he couldn’t ignore the out-of-body sensation that occurred with each step. He wasn’t in control. This wasn’t on his turf. The realization pressed in on his chest, impeding airflow. He tried not to pant like an out-of-shape jogger.
His escort looked back at the door, probably wishing someone more interesting and actually famous had been his assignment.
“I’m good. Gonna get a drink first.” Dresden pointed to the nearest bar. “I’ll find my way to the principal’s office.” He laughed. The attendant didn’t.
No longer under anyone’s responsibility, Dresden followed through on his word and headed for a bar a few feet away. Too bad the bar didn’t come equipped with stools. He’d gladly grab one and nurse a beer for the duration. No one would ever have to know that he was there. But for actual records, the check-in list would show that he’d arrived. Immediately his mother’s caution piled onto his guilt. The Meadowses weren’t owed his compliance.
* * *
Laxmi would have returned home if Fiona hadn’t spotted her in the room. She felt nauseous by the time she’d gone through the checkpoints to get into the party. At any moment, she expected someone to accuse her of being a faker.
“I’m so glad you made it.” Fiona hugged her tight, making Laxmi gasp. “Thought you would bail on me.”
“Of course not. Wouldn’t dream of it.” Laxmi hid her lie behind a bright grin. “Feels like most of New York is in this room.”
“It’s a good turnout.” Fiona looked radiant. Her fierce detective persona had disappeared behind stylish hair and makeup. She looked gorgeous in her evening dress.
Maybe she shouldn’t have worn the minidress. But she needed the safety net of her former style as the brash, youthful party girl. She could observe the world through that veneer.
“Come. Come. Let me show you to the head table.”
“Oh, no. I could have had a seat in the back. Near the coat check.”
“You’re so silly.” Fiona laughed, but as if sensing the retreat, she hooked her arm through Laxmi’s and guided her to the table.
After introductions were made, Laxmi took her seat.
Fiona patted her shoulder. “Sorry, I’m going to have to leave you. Have to play hostess.”
“Oh, please, go do your thing. I’ll be fine.” Laxmi waved her on and tried to keep her nerves away from her smile.
But once Fiona left, she felt alone. Stranded. No one at the table talked to her. The cousins might have remembered her, but she had been close to only Fiona. With the event not ready to start officially for thirty minutes, she scanned the room for a place to hang. The minibars stationed around the big room seemed good enough. She made her escape.
* * *
“Is this spot taken?”
Dresden shook his head without bothering to look over his shoulder. He wasn’t interested in conversation, even if its owner’s fragrance smelled so damn good it baited his curiosity to check her out. To distract himself, he shifted his focus to the head table and scanned the faces, looking for one specifically—Fiona, the only tolerable Meadow and his half sister.
“Which Meadows do you know?”
Dresden blinked and reluctantly turned to the woman who prodded his attention and who couldn’t read a vibe. Irritation fueled his impatience with the invader. His self-exile was on the verge of a breach.
A smile, bold and bright, greeted him and sucked the wind from his lungs. Its owner held out her hand to match the cheeriness behind her flash of teeth. “Laxmi Holder.”
The second after she said her name he silently repeated Lak-shmee.
He shook her hand and didn’t want to let go. But he had to when her smile turned into a bubbly burst of laughter at his flustered reaction. His face flushed with the creeping heat from his neck up over his cheeks.
An awkward handshake was the least of his problems as his eyes connected with her face.
Sexy, full lips were splashed with a badass red color. Bright eyes popped because of long, dark lashes and shapely arched brows. Add the interesting contours of her face and he might as well have stepped off the edge and fallen into a delightful rabbit hole.
“And you are?” she prompted. She hadn’t broken eye contact now that he couldn’t stop staring at her.
“Dresden.” He sipped his drink to quell the sudden dryness.
“You’re one of those one-name celebrities—like Cher and Madonna?”
He laughed at the idea of being anything but a history professor working on his genealogy as a personal hobby. Still, he jumped on the option to keep his last name out of the mix since he had no idea in what social circle she spent her time. His new fame had brought him into the spotlight with the details trickling in or being sensationalized for the gossip spreads. Any public mention of his life stripped away his privacy that he’d taken for granted. Reading the fictional and even the nonfictional bits about his life sounded insignificant and average when splashed against the Meadowses’ powerful reputation.
“Okay, mystery man,” she said in a husky voice that sounded like an old jazz singer’s. “We’ll play it your way. I like solving puzzles.”
“Nothing much to know.” And he meant it as a curtain to keep out her curiosity.
She shrugged, but he saw the interest intensify like so many did at mention of the Meadowses. She looked poised for any discovery. Her gaze recorded everything. If he stumbled and opened access to his life, she’d pounce without hesitation. While he had no intention of opening up about who he was because who really knew what had triggered her attention? On the other hand, he didn’t want his reluctance to end their conversation.
“Mild temperatures for the time of the year. More than chilly tonight, though.”
Laxmi signaled to the bartender for a refill. “Looks like we’ll stay in the safe zone and chat about the weather. Or maybe we can talk politics?”
Dresden made a face. “That’s depressing.”
She tapped her cheek with her finger, as if mulling over her next move. The nail polish perfectly matched the bloodred lip color. “Relationship status?”
His cough erupted and fizzled into a nervous chuckle from her direct blast into his personal life. His lack of a current girlfriend wasn’t a secret, but he was used to being in the driver’s seat when testing new terrain.
“It’s not a hard question.” Her voice turned an edge frosty. “Unless you’re about to lie.”
“Single.” He gulped a mouthful of beer.
“Good.”
His eyebrow hitched up with his shock that she was interested in him—and for more than passing time at a party.
Problem was, and he did see it as a problem, he was interested in her, too. He cleared his throat. His body was reacting without waiting for his mind to catch up. “Are you...single?”
She nodded.
“Not that I’m trying to pick you up.” He shook his head. “Commitment-phobe here. And work pretty much takes up my life.” Damn. He wanted to kiss those lips, smear that color right off.
The way his body short-circuited over her, he needed to set the record straight not only for her, but mainly for him.
But now his imagination wouldn’t stop its what-if scenarios. What if those long, manicured fingernails that tapped the bar’s counter could one day rake along the length of his back as they lay together?
He shifted his stance, wishing he could walk off the aroused tightness in his crotch. His eyes squeezed shut as he urged his libido to get it together. Maybe he needed a double shot of oxygen to clear away these thoughts.
“You’re a cop? Fireman? Navy SEAL?”
Dresden laughed and shook his head. “Professor. I teach history and write articles. Working on a book now.”
“Top secret?”
“My family tree in the context of Canada’s black history. I’m Canadian, by the way.”
“You keep getting more interesting. Sounds like your project is a lot of work, but also eye-opening for the curious-minded.”
He nodded, unable to withhold his appreciation that she showed interest in his work.
“And you haven’t managed to squeeze in a significant other?”
“I have. That’s how I know that it’s not happening anytime soon.” Despite the casual way she’d tossed out the question, he’d heard judgment.
“That’s better than saying ‘not in this lifetime.’”
Dresden didn’t respond. While she operated as being cool and confident, he could barely keep up with his unaffected demeanor under her pointed questions.
“You gotta give a woman a teensy bit of hope or they won’t stick around to talk to you when there’s a kick-butt party going on over her shoulder.” A smidgen of a smile curled her lips.
Dresden got the message, but this wasn’t the place to pick up anyone, even if she was rocking her tiny red minidress. And even if it fit like a tight glove around her curves at the top and at the bottom—He took another sip.
Reality check to self: hooking up at Grace Meadows’s party couldn’t happen. Shouldn’t happen.
“Let me guess.” She leaned toward him. He tried not to be caught in her weblike aura, but he leaned toward her. Couldn’t help it. That damned perfume rendered him weak. “You look out at these strangers in this backdrop with doubt, maybe condemnation. I can see it on your face. You’re dismissive of them for whatever reasons. That’s sad. Because you’re looking at me with a lot of suspicion mixed with wariness, as if I were about to suggest a one-night stand.”
Dresden choked on his drink. Her boldness, her accuracy about his attraction to her, rattled his nerves. He shook his head. He’d never own up to lusting after her.
“And on that note, it’s been an interesting few minutes with you, Dresden. See you around...if it’s meant to be.” Laxmi offered her hand once more.
This time he was prepared for the intense pleasure of holding it.
Or so he’d thought. He hadn’t expected the slight squeeze of her hand before she released his with the bonus of a slow wink.
Like a magician, she flipped a business card out of her pocketbook and extended it to him from between her fingers.
“Aren’t you afraid that I might use your card as a bookmark?” His voice croaked. Must not give in.
“Nah.” Once he took the card, she continued. “I’ll stay confident that you’ll call.”
Every part of him cheered in agreement. However, to pretend otherwise, to maintain his plan to be unavailable, thanks to her base in New York and his in Toronto, he simply slipped the card into his inside jacket pocket and picked up his drink. “Have a good night.”
She was gone before he’d finished talking. Her exit had as much flair as her style. The formfitting dress left admirers—and him—gawking as she cut a path with a supermodel strut to the front of the room.
Meeting her was worth the entire night’s experience. She had the unique appeal to wake him up and make him interested in something other than his current issues. Though she’d left, his system still savored the aftereffect of her energy.
Once Laxmi disappeared from his view, Dresden sighed. The fun part of the night was over. Time to grit his teeth, suck it up and formally be part of Grace Meadows’s birthday bash.
Chapter 2 (#u1808e206-a2da-5c1a-a000-b8fdd0ca3587)
The music faded into the rumbling din of the guests. The clink of glass and buzz of conversation accompanied Dresden’s solitary walk to the head table.
Lights suddenly dimmed over the room, wrapping everyone in soft white lights that glittered off the chandeliers. The waitstaff efficiently slipped to the perimeter of the room with dirty dishes in tow. Stage lights now brightened a wide path for the mistress of ceremonies, who’d stepped forward to take charge. Her booming voice commandeered everyone’s attention as she announced that the planned program for the birthday celebration would begin.
An eager attendant, scrubbed and polished, quickly inserted himself into Dresden’s space, blocking his progress to the Meadowses. “Are you part of the VIPs?” He pointed to his wrist and tapped his finger on the spot.
Dresden stared at him, clueless as to the meaning of the signal.
“VIPs have a purple bracelet. Do you have your invitation?”
Dresden nodded and showed it.
The eager and now annoyed attendant cleared his throat as he closely read the paper. “Okay. Here’s your bracelet.”
Dresden took the simple band and slipped it on. He squashed the stubborn urge to refuse this anointed VIP status and risk the attendant’s disdain. His DNA connection to the Meadowses changed nothing. With his personal life and career pursuit solidly middle of the road, he had no experience with the airs and graces that surrounded this family.
While the emcee continued on with her introductions, he turned himself over to his escort and followed along to the head table.
“Mrs. Meadows, your guest Dresden Haynes is here.” The man actually bowed. Not to a full ninety-degree angle, but enough to give deference and to earn a regal nod.
Dresden’s back stiffened. She couldn’t expect him to do the same? But he wasn’t sure as Grace Meadows slid her keen gaze onto him. The entire table’s attention followed suit, including Miss Sexy Red Dress.
Laxmi offered him an imperceptible nod. Casually posed. Neutral smile. Guess she wasn’t disclosing that they’d met.
In return, he responded with a quick, dismissive nod before he turned his attention back to Grace.
“How good of you to join us,” Grace said with clear imperious elocution. “I’m so thrilled that you came to my party. Now, take your seat. We are about to begin.”
The woman didn’t look anywhere close to eighty years old. A vibrancy burst from her like an extra ring added to her aura. Even without all the family members and the birthday decorations that framed her, she would still stand out in a crowd.
She shooed him away with a flick of her hand. “You are seated next to Fiona. Go on, take a seat.”
His sister was already at his side with arms outstretched. Before he could take it all in, before he could take a step back, she pulled him into a fiercely tight hug. “I can’t believe you’re here. I’m so glad.” Her hug grew tighter as she repeated herself.
“Good to see you, too,” Dresden offered after his release from her arms. The tension interwoven through his neck muscles slackened and disappeared under her reassuring smile. During their many conversations, he’d accepted that Fiona shouldn’t shoulder any blame for his lost-and-found story line. Nor should she be burdened with his pendulum swings over accepting the role and responsibilities as a Meadow or retreating to his obscurity from the family.
“Let’s get the introductions over with because I’m sure your brain is on overload right now,” Fiona said after he took his seat.
Her prophetic statement held true after he was reintroduced to Fiona’s boyfriend, Leo; their cousins Dana and Belinda and their significant others, Kent and Jesse; and more extended family. In that last cluster of family members, he had to acknowledge Verona—Fiona’s mother—the same woman who’d given him away and held on to her secret until a few months ago, when Grace and Fiona had found out about his existence.
He twisted the lock tighter on his emotions to halt any visible signs of how he felt. The order he craved in his life couldn’t afford pendulum swings into drama. Neither did he want to dwell in hurt, anger or even empathy for Verona.
Feelings for this woman whom he couldn’t think of as his mother didn’t linger in one place. At times, he wondered about her life and the difficulty of giving him up. During those moments, he could stir up a measure of compassion without feeling any sense of obligation to talk to her. Other times, when he celebrated with his parents over the smallest joy, he could erase Verona from his conscious thoughts.
Overall, the many names he’d just learned, along with each person’s identifying details, merged in a chaotic swirl of too much information. The pressure to impress, his emotions, his grudging willingness to be there, all overwhelmed him. If tested, he’d be unable to recall anything. Hopefully he wouldn’t have any long conversations that would tax his memory.
But he sensed that it was an empty fantasy because their gazes stuck to him like prickly burrs. It didn’t help that a few heads tilted toward each other for whispered chitchat. How much did they know about him?
“And the last one in the lineup is my friend Laxmi Holder,” Fiona revealed with an appreciative pat on her friend’s shoulder.
“Just to be clear, it’s best friend.” Laxmi smirked at him.
Good grief, she belongs to the other side. Dresden nodded in mock salute. “Not to worry. I won’t usurp your place.”
“Hope not. She’s got enough friends.” Laxmi pointed at Fiona with her thumb. “I, on the other hand, may have an opening for a friend with benefits.” She widened her smile.
Dresden felt like her partner in crime, with their shared secret about not being complete strangers. He swallowed the automatic response to match her smile with his. Hard to be around this intriguing woman and not react to her or anything she said. Besides, he was certain Fiona had picked up that something had occurred between the two. Although she was baffled now, no doubt that she would corner Laxmi later for the lowdown.
To throw off Fiona and get himself onto emotionally neutral land, Dresden allowed himself to drift along with the meandering conversations closest to him.
The cousins soon overshadowed his preoccupation with Laxmi. Jointly they engaged him in animated conversations exchanging information about their childhood misadventures. Listening to the details from their childhood, he felt like a spectator. He couldn’t help thinking about what it would have been like to be part of the family dynamics. But their exuberance and effort to draw him in with humor and great storytelling abilities helped dissipate some of the awkwardness of the situation.
However, he took the more comfortable route to talk about his humorous interactions with his students and his more interesting research trips. Childhood stories, living in exotic places with his family, and anything else that he deemed too personal, remained unspoken.
Sliding his attention past the cousins, he saw Verona, far enough away but still in his direct line of sight. He studied the woman who’d given birth to him but couldn’t look at him. She didn’t smile much. Didn’t talk much, either. She wasn’t a sad figure. More like a contemplative spectator at the table. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected or what he’d wanted—a bereaved woman in perpetual torment would be nice.
A low-level headache hummed across his brow. Maybe he should have stayed at the bar. He needed a little help to get through the night. However, his escape plan hit a snag.
The program started with the official introduction of Grace. The matriarch walked forward to take her place on the stage. Guests cheered her on with a standing ovation. Dresden clapped along with everyone as each major accomplishment was read about her humble beginnings in the media industry to the steep upward trajectory to success and power.
He chanced a glance at Laxmi before he resumed his seat. She was chatting with one of the cousins. Not once did she look in his direction. He did but also didn’t want her attention. Still, why on earth did he feel a twinge of disappointment because she ignored him?
Grace stepped up to the microphone, first acknowledging the ovation and grand introduction. Her speech turned somber and reflective.
Dresden listened to her creative version of his inclusion in the family. More details than he’d preferred, about Grace hiring Leo to find her grandson so that she could celebrate this milestone birthday with her entire family. Her pride extended to her daughter Verona and the reunion of her children, whose successful lives were testimony to the Meadowses’ traits of grit and determination.
Bitterness simmered in his chest like embers. Charlotte and Patrick deserved all the credit. And he’d never betray their love by sharing any part of himself with Verona.
“Would all my grandchildren join me onstage?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know she’d do this.” Fiona touched his fisted hand on the table as she rose to join her grandmother. The cousins also stood, looking expectantly over at him.
His mind raced along with the thump of his heartbeat. His body, on the other hand, felt like it was in a high-drama family saga moving in slow motion. He had to stand. Had to walk to the stage. Had to take his place next to people he didn’t know or belong with, as part of the united front for the public and for Grace.
Cameras didn’t stop flashing. Were they all so fascinating, to need every facet of their life on record? He tried to shield his eyes but couldn’t manage that and see to walk. Feeling more than a tad self-conscious, he retreated between a gap in the lineup. The rest of the family all dealt with it like pros.
Dresden concentrated hard on not barfing onstage. Alongside him, he witnessed Fiona, like her cousins, charm the audience with her testimonial of love and devotion for her grandmother. Their sincerity stirred up warm, cozy feelings about family and legacy. While they lauded Grace’s impact to their lives, he related the same feelings to his memories of his adoptive parents. Nothing would change where his loyalty resided. Except, a deep-seated fear formed that he could fall under the spell of the Meadowses.
Meanwhile, the guests continued cheering through Fiona’s speech. They were the fans for the home team, fully engaged at a pep rally. How would he follow her blaze of glory with his version as the new Meadows? What emotional bloodletting would he have to perform for the guests’ satisfaction?
The anxiety had him wishing that he was back at the bar admiring a particularly sexy woman in her red-hot minidress. Timing wasn’t on his side, but he’d make do with the temporary opportunity.
Damn, it was his turn. Fiona offered a final wave before she left the podium to rejoin the line of grandchildren. His nerves popped and multiplied in the pit of his belly. Too many thoughts to process and no time for second-guessing. Dresden rubbed his palms along his pant legs and blew out a shaky breath.
The short walk to the podium felt a mile long. But nothing more delayed his face time with the guests. He tried to smile. Tried to make his face relax. Tried to hold it together.
He dug deep and imagined standing in front of a freshman class. This was nothing more than teaching the early history of Canada. If he was lucky, he’d have to deal with only a few glazed stares.
“Tonight I’m here with the Meadowses to celebrate Grace’s birthday. Thank you for the invitation.” He inclined his head toward the head table. “Right now...” He paused, trying to direct his words so that only positivity flowed. “This has been...quite a year.” A few chuckles joined in with his weak laughter. He scratched his forehead, although there was no itch, just an unease that wouldn’t stay buried. “A lot to take in. And we will move onward and upward. So, um...enjoy the meal.”
Then he took a step back from the podium. With a loud exhalation, he looked over at Fiona. Sorry. He mouthed the word before looking back out over the crowd. A soft buzz of chatter gradually filled in the silence after he finished.
He sought one person’s judgment—Laxmi’s. He was sure Grace regretted his stumbling debut to her friends. That was why he’d rather deal with Laxmi and her series of pointed questions about his behavior than Fiona’s or Grace’s disappointment.
Without pausing to analyze the consequences of the next steps, Dresden walked briskly off the stage. His strides lengthened and picked up momentum toward the exit. Escape. Freedom. All he wanted right now was cool air filling his lungs.
He reached the hotel entrance out of breath, but grateful, and pushed open the door. The temperature had dropped significantly, adding a frigid edge to the already frosty condition. His face tightened against the wind but he needed the briskness to take his mind off his actions.
“Sir, do you need a taxi?” An attendant stepped up, ready to hail a cab with his whistle.
“I guess I should get one.” Dresden looked around for the limo. He’d gotten out of the vehicle without ensuring that he had a ride after the party. And there was no sign of the car or driver.
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll take the runaway to his hotel.”
The attendant nodded and left him at the curb.
Dresden slowly turned in the direction of Laxmi’s voice. She greeted him with a cocky smirk and headed over to the valet service booth. A red coat shielded her body against the cold. Like the red dress, the perfectly matched coat complemented her skin. And, oh, man, that strut she had was always a pleasure to watch.
First, he didn’t know if he wanted to be rescued. Second, should she be his knight in a hot minidress? But he didn’t want to ponder the dilemmas for any real answer.
A spectacular red Ferrari Sergio roared into view and pulled up beside them. Dresden watched Laxmi tip the valet before sliding behind the steering wheel.
Did she plan for every part of her life to be in sync? The sports car matched its owner—brash and eye-catching with compelling power moves. As she fluffed out her hair and let it fall past her shoulders in a thick, curly black curtain, he knew she had the “it” factor for an expensive car ad.
“Oh, come on. I’m harmless.” The limited-edition roadster’s engine revved like a signal for him to get in and enjoy the ride.
“I’m not supposed to take rides from strangers.” He tried not to fall under her spell. All night he had tried, but as his hand closed on the door handle, he knew he couldn’t go on unless he surrendered to this woman.
An exciting shiver ran along his spine. She pressed a red lipstick to her bottom lip and smoothed on a fresh coat. He followed its path over the curves and valley of her lips. To survive the moment, he looked around for a distraction.
Seeing the valet looking longingly at the car instead of drooling over Laxmi worked for Dresden. Not that he could claim to be jealous of someone he didn’t know.
“Didn’t envision this gem as my getaway car.” He got into the tight space and pushed back his seat to match hers.
“And I never imagined that I’d be racing off with such a worthy prize.”
“Prize? Guess that’s what I am...to them.” He looked toward the entrance. The way he’d left, the things he’d said or hadn’t said—all of it ran on a continuous loop. There was no coming back from this. Should he never have said yes to Fiona’s invite? Now he’d made a mess of things and embarrassed Grace on her birthday. He swore under his breath.
“Want to head back in?”
“No. Actually, I did what I came to do. No more. No less.” He shrugged off the denial that popped up.
“At least sleep on it. You might think differently in the morning.”
“Are you the getaway driver or my therapist?” So what if he sounded ungrateful?
* * *
Laxmi didn’t consider herself the most observant person. Her client, Tonea, tended to accuse her of being clueless most of the time. Tonight was one of the occasions when clarity arrived and stuck around long enough for her to pay attention to her new drinking buddy—Dresden, the missing Meadows.
She sensed that he had been equally nervous about attending the party, of course, for different reasons. His reluctance to engage was understandable, but also a welcome distraction. Plus, he was so darn fine that she couldn’t resist flirting.
But when he went onstage, she saw the panic. She recognized the signs of feeling out of control, looking out at the crowd for approval and hoping to impress. His panic got the better of him and he bolted.
As soon as he left the stage, Laxmi shot out of her seat and followed. Maybe she was looking for an excuse to also leave, but there was a part of her that was genuinely interested in Dresden.
Even if he met her concern with full-out suspicion.
* * *
“I’m Fiona’s friend. So, she matters and, by default, you matter.”
“Then let me relieve you of that obligation.” He reached for the door handle.
But his head hit the headrest as Laxmi pushed the gas pedal. Tires squealed. Pedestrians skipped out of the way, hopping onto the curb. Their departure from the front of the hotel turned into a blurred flash of buildings and lights.
Not until Laxmi pulled up at a red light did Dresden test the seat belt. He kept one hand on the dashboard for added measure as she took off again. A sharp right turn tested his grip on every surface. A side glance to check on Laxmi only proved that the ride to his hotel would feel like a jump through a time warp.
“Where to?” she asked in between a three-lane change.
“I chose to stay at the Barkley Towers.”
“Nice digs. Everyone is at the Winthorpe.”
“I know,” he said. Fiona had offered to make the reservation at the same hotel, but he’d known he’d need his space. Besides, he’d passed on the Meadowses picking up the tab for his hotel stay.
“You’re a loner? Not judging.” Her hand rose against his instant protest. “Call me being observant.”
She banked a hard left. A few car horns blasted their owners’ annoyance. With another squeal of brakes, they pulled up in front of the hotel, a much quieter venue than the location for the birthday bash.
“Home sweet home.”
“Thanks.” Dresden unsnapped the seat belt and opened the car door. “I really appreciate...this.”
“No problem. My pleasure.”
He looked up at the building, glad to be in his safe space. Yet he didn’t want to part ways with Laxmi. “You’ve missed a lot of the festivities. Sorry about that.”
“Yes, but then, you wouldn’t have been there. Who would I have spent my time getting to know?” She shook her head. “Nah. I’m in the right place at the right time.”
“Do you want to come in for a drink?” He plunged ahead without bothering to have a comeback if she rejected him.
“Oh. I’m shocked.” She clearly teased him. “Didn’t think you were into one-night stands.” Her audacious wink drew his laughter.
“I promise that no such thing will occur.”
“Bummer.” She emerged from the car and handed over the keys to the valet. “And here I thought you were going to be interesting.”
Dresden didn’t know how to deal with his unlikely partner in crime. They walked into the lobby, with her hand tucked into the crook of his elbow, and then stepped onto the elevator. She hummed a tune he didn’t recognize. He looked straight ahead, hoping she couldn’t see his heart popping out of his chest, pumping like an overworked piston.
As soon as the doors opened and they stepped into the hallway, Laxmi said, “Somehow I pictured you in a setting like this.”
“Old and dusty?” He didn’t think she was laying down a compliment.
“An appreciation of the old mixed with the new. You’re a history professor. But you also have written some interesting articles on various topics with a predictive air about what the future holds. How the past doesn’t have to dictate the future. In other words, you are an optimist.”
* * *
Laxmi once had been an optimist. The high ledge where hope and ideals resided was for those lucky souls. But the space had felt narrow and uncomfortable once her life unraveled with loss and defeat.
Maybe her attraction to Dresden began with his air of optimism. Why else would he attend Grace’s party, despite his hasty departure?
* * *
“You knew who I was?”
“Not right away. Although, Dresden is an unusual name. But the aha moment hit when you showed up at the table.”
Dresden groaned. He didn’t want to remember his most recent personal history. He slid the hotel key card into the lock and motioned for her to enter.
“You know once I cross the threshold, you’ve officially invited me in.”
“And I’m all out of garlic and holy water.”
“I won’t put any moves on you.”
The declaration disappointed him. He was too damned ready to wrap his arms around her fine body and deliver a long, hard kiss.
“Oh, what the hell.” She grabbed his shirt and pulled him to her. “No?” She licked her lips. “Or yes?”
“Hell, yes.” He kissed her just the way he’d imagined the sensation of falling backward into bliss without knowing how far beneath him the bottom was.
Chapter 3 (#u1808e206-a2da-5c1a-a000-b8fdd0ca3587)
Laxmi held on for dear life, or more accurately, for the sheer enjoyment of being in Dresden’s arms. All night she’d engaged in sexy fantasies about kissing him. Getting herself hot and stirring up her desire weren’t anywhere on her party agenda, but she hadn’t expected her evening to turn into a night of interesting diversions.
Not only didn’t she expect to run into the missing heir from the Meadows family tree at the bar, not that she’d been on the lookout, but her imagination could have never come up with this end result.
Now she could barely breathe as they devoured each other. Her arms clasped tighter around his shoulders. She sucked in gulps of air while his lips roughly ravished hers.
“You’re freaking delicious,” she whispered. Delicious to taste, see, smell. She inhaled the masculine notes of his cologne.
“Likewise, my knight to the rescue.” His deep, rumbly voice stroked in all the right places.
Hungry and ready, she held on and wrapped her legs around his hips. Her head was buried against his neck, along his cheek, until her mouth reconnected again to his sweet desperation.
The more they kissed, the more she didn’t want it to end. All of this, all of him, felt right and beautiful. She pressed her body against his, holding on, succumbing to his kisses peppering her chest.
Her eyes fluttered open as she sank onto his bed.
He loomed over her, out of breath, wearing his shy smile that had knocked her off balance when she’d first seen him at the bar.
His eyes couldn’t mask his feelings, though. They communicated on full blast with what turned him on, turned him off, or what left him pensive, such as when he was onstage with the rest of the Meadowses. His deep brown eyes surely served as his soul’s windows.
“So what now?” she asked in a deliberate offhand manner.
He sucked on her thumb that still lingered on the cushiony softness of his lips. Her desire shot through her body and pooled between her legs like a hungry snake coiling and ready to be satisfied.
“I don’t do one-night stands.” His hand cupped her breast, taking possession. Under the continuous stroke of his thumb, her sensitive nipple perked against the attention.
“Neither do I.” She licked her lips, hoping for another serving of his tongue to sweep hers into a sexy tango.
“Good. We’re in agreement.” His hand slid up her dress and pulled her thong down her legs before he tossed it aside.
“Just make sure that it’s not a one-nighter.” She eyed the red thong hanging off the lampshade next to the bed. “I’ll definitely need a repeat of you,” she said, almost as if giving herself a necessary reminder.
His hands slid under her body and worked the zipper down her back.
“You’ll have to peel me out of this outfit.” She giggled as she remembered how she’d shimmied in place to get dressed.
“Looking forward to it,” he said. His fingers teased her skin as he unwrapped the dress from around her body.
Goose bumps prickled her arms with anticipation and as reward for the casual brush of his hands around her waist and along her hips.
Strong, yet gentle, his fingertip traced symbols of infinity along her flesh. She hoped he never stopped. Her moans partnered with her body, which was writhing under the attention. Pleasurable shivers shimmied through her.
“Getting you out of my system may take a little while.” Laxmi couldn’t help confessing her inner thoughts to this man.
“Same here.” He kissed the edge of her shoulder where a monarch-butterfly tattoo imprinted her skin. The colorful charm served her well as a reminder of having faith after her darkest days.
“Wasn’t supposed to happen this way,” she whispered, giving voice to the argument within her.
His focused expression softened with a hint of a smile. Maybe he agreed.
The smile turned her on. Discovering every feature excited her. She traced a line from his forehead over his nose and the spread of his nostrils. A soft sweep of his lips with her thumb paid homage to a key feature she’d instantly fallen for earlier that evening.
He unbuttoned his shirt, but she couldn’t stay patient for his intentional performance of slowly undressing. While he dealt with that, she unfastened his pants and assisted him out of them with such vigor that they collapsed into each other’s arms, both laughing heartily.
Once they’d restored order with her blushing and him clearing his throat, she had to admit to wanting all the time to look at his naked body.
“Maybe we should exchange some sort of pleasantries.”
“Now?” Laxmi couldn’t curb the fit of giggles as Dresden leaned against the wall with too much casualness. She didn’t want to deal with any speed bumps slowing the momentum of a spectacular nightcap.
He kissed her pout until her lips relaxed and welcomed his mouth and the bold stroke of his tongue. Damn, he can kiss. She wrapped her legs around him to wipe out any gaps between them.
“You know, to make this less of a booty call.” He nuzzled her neckline, tracing the curve to her shoulders.
“Aw, you’re sweet,” she teased. “Okay, then let’s go with word association. You get five words and I get five. One-word questions and answers.” She grasped his firm behind in her hands and stroked the thick hardness of muscle.
“Home?” he asked through clenched teeth to begin the game.
“Brooklyn.” Her hands stroked upward along the contour of his back. “Your mom’s basement?”
He laughed and handily took possession of her hands above her head. “Heck no. And that’s three words.” He punished her with a series of wet kisses around her nipple. “Canada?” he prompted. Meanwhile he continued teasing the valley between her breasts.
She arched up for more of his tongue’s wickedness. “Doable.” Talking and moaning almost made her words unintelligible. She could barely think. “Purse,” she hissed.
“It’s my turn. Gosh, you cheat.” He nuzzled her earlobe, which might as well be a turn-up-the-dial on the heat in her.
“Purse,” she repeated with a gasp.
“Red.”
“No.” She pointed to the tiny accessory abandoned on the hotel desk.
He shook his head, looking confused.
She giggled. “I meant for you to hand me my purse. Condoms.”
“Smart.” He nodded.
“They are in my purse.” She couldn’t stop laughing at him.
“I take it we’re done with the games.” He handed her the small red purse.
“Pretty much.” She pulled out the condom and ripped the packet apart.
“I’ll do it. You may tip me over before I’m ready.” He plucked the condom from her fingers.
* * *
Dresden the history professor and Dresden the one-night-stand lover boy didn’t compute. But this onetime scenario happened when he tucked logic away like a pesky friend.
From his departure from the party to the arrival at this hotel room with Laxmi, he’d sailed through his experiences with the rush of adrenaline going through his veins. He was open to every sensation and Laxmi delivered, keeping all his senses on high alert.
Yet he regretted nothing, instead diving into the deep end and enjoying whatever happened between in this moment. He had no misguided supposition that there would an episodic drama after this night. She’d made it clear that she was operating on satisfying a whim. And he had no desire to ignite anything that asked for commitment or long term.
His plate was pretty full with the Meadowses.
And he wanted to forget them, if only for a little while.
* * *
Laxmi watched him prep himself.
Raw hunger fueled her desire. The man certainly could send her into a swoon. He was simply beautiful. The naked statues of male Greek gods in the museums all over the world had nothing on him. While those physiques were born of a sculptor’s imagination, this man was blessed with natural strength, power and lean muscular build.
The lights hadn’t been dimmed. A consideration she appreciated for the juicy privilege of watching him walk toward her. No shadowy darkness shielded him from her view. Smooth skin, rich with color, stoked her desire to touch him. An appetite for him to pleasure her grew with a deep gnawing as if it was an actual hunger pang craving nourishment.
No other way to admit that she’d fallen under his spell, even if he hadn’t cast one. His loner personality tugged at her interest. His body tugged on a lot more. She was so wet as her gaze lapped him up to feed her soul.
She shifted her eyes from his erection to look in his eyes. Her cheeks remained warm when she saw that he was aware of her appreciation.
“I don’t want you to think that I’m rushing things.” His tone questioned her.
She shook her head. If he knew of her turmoil, the giddy sensation of being twirled around a room and let go, he might not believe her. But she loved the free fall from the dizzying height of her current situation. Maybe that need to take risks continued to guide her, pushing her toward independence and challenging her to step out of her comfort zone. Being around Dresden shook her world in a good way. He wasn’t the average man. This wasn’t the average hookup.
“Good.” His mouth closed over a nipple and his tongue played with the taut nub. Then his head popped up. “’Cause I’m having the time of my life with you.”
Laxmi softly clasped his head between her hands and pulled him to her mouth for a kiss. His consideration touched her. She tried not to jump ahead and contemplate when they’d have to go their separate ways. She was adult enough to know that any promises made to each other in the heat of the moment didn’t mean they would be honored. After all, an internationally recognized border stood between them.
It is a fact of life. She couldn’t open her heart for a what-if moment. Stay focused. Her mission was to prove that she could climb back to the successful side of the entertainment world after a failed singing career. She’d already placed hazard warnings around her heart for any failed attempts at true love.
This night could never be repeated, despite how much she wanted another chance to feel wanted and desired by a real man.
Despite the practical advisory, the reality carried a sting.
“Don’t get quiet on me,” he whispered with his forehead pressed against hers.
“Does this look quiet to you?” She leaned back on her elbows.
He growled, deep and guttural. They were done talking.
She barely had time to grab hold of him as he scooped her up and brought their hips for a momentous meet-up. She welcomed all of him, grinding against his pelvis.
They moved as one, neither wanting to let go. From the bed, to the floor, to the chair, to the wall, Laxmi crawled, writhed and rolled around with Dresden deep within her.
Life felt good.
He felt good.
Her back stayed pressed against the cold, hard bedroom wall, to keep her upright, but also to keep her in place for Dresden’s rhythmic thrusts.
She kept her eyes closed. Listening to his grunts ramped up her need for him to fill her even more. Over and over again.
“Hold on.” His command sounded like a voice-over for the unfolding action.
She obeyed without needing any prompt. Her cheek pressed against the soft waves of his hair. She held on so tight that she was sure her cheek would show the imprint of his hair.
Reading her readiness, he slowed, sliding into her with deliberate pressure and pulling out for her to enjoy every glorious part. At the peak, she let go and let her body release, pulsate until she was done.
Gripping his shoulders, she stayed perched around his hips. As he picked up the pace to thrust into her, he came hard. And she thanked her luck that she’d met this wonderful man tonight.
They finally had touched down and coasted back to reality. Only their uneven breaths added sound to the silence. Within each other’s embrace, they ushered in a calm, reflective mood after their steamy, passionate union.
“Whew,” Laxmi said to ward off the onset of nerves. “I would say let’s go for round two, but a girl’s got a business to run.” She slid along the wall to free herself and her mind from Dresden’s proximity.
“And I’ve got a plane to catch in a few hours.” He looked at his watch and didn’t look her way again.
“I’ll just step into the bathroom.” Laxmi straightened her clothes and headed for the door.
* * *
Dresden released a breath when the bathroom door closed. If he was hooked up to diagnostic machines, the readout would be haphazard. Emotions and hard thinking battled for his mind’s forefront.
Never having been high, he imagined this floating sensation and craving for more must come pretty close. But the changes in him weren’t only physical. That scared him. The shift toward wanting Laxmi, wanting to be friends, wanting more than that, was too swift. He didn’t operate on impulse. Well, up to a few minutes ago, he’d have made that claim.
But her kick-ass style and fearless approach stirred desire. He wanted the time to get to know her. And he hoped that she’d let him convince her that he was worth the effort.
* * *
Behind the closed door, in much-needed privacy, she cleaned up while her mind scrolled through a panicked stream of thoughts. A ragged edge of self-doubt gnawed at her confidence. If she hadn’t pushed her way into Dresden’s space, would he have been interested? She knew the answer, as she leaned in to the mirror, peering at her reflection as if it was an out-of-body experience. So far tonight, she had walked on the wild side, but was still uncertain about how the final credits would roll. Unplanned moments had a tendency to go haywire. Right now, her emotions were running ahead of her logic, looking to escape.
Was she the bad guy? Cut and run and never look back. Or could she play the good girl? Diplomatic and vague, but still run. Her past was her being the naive woman hanging on too long to a bad apple. She’d played at being cavalier with Dresden. But the plan had backfired. She was far from unaffected by Dresden. Too dangerous to her willpower. A fast retreat was necessary.
Laxmi reapplied her lipstick, dabbed at the sheen on her forehead and smoothed her hair back into place, as much as possible. A twist here and a turn there, she finished the inspection on her clothes. Her thong. Still on the lampshade. Time to head back out there and act like she wasn’t a case of nerves.
No matter how she felt, she didn’t wish him to be constrained by her insecurities. Keep things simple and not emo-girl whiny. Taking deep breaths in and out, Laxmi was ready to play the role of independent, emotionally detached young woman.
At first she didn’t see or hear him when she emerged from the bathroom. Even if he was inclined, there weren’t too many places to jump out and scare her. Anyway, she hurried over to the side table and grabbed her underwear. She’d just pulled her dress down when the sound of a key card activating the door stopped her plan to search for him behind the thick drapes.
“I bought a couple sodas.” He handed her a cold Coke. His eyes shifted from around the room to her outstretched hand, but never to her face.
Was he feeling regret? Shame? Or was he in need of closure?
“Thanks. That’s thoughtful.” She didn’t drink sodas, but the correction didn’t matter. Her fingers brushed along his—deliberate on her part. She wanted contact and a signal that nothing would be awkward. Still he didn’t bring his gaze back to her. Things would be awkward.
“Did you need anything else?” He motioned with his chin toward the bathroom.
“I’m good.” Why did he have to look all pulled together? Meanwhile, a few minutes ago, her hair had sported a bad case of bed-head. Smeared lipstick had given her the clown-mouth effect. And her skin had appeared dewy from the naturally sweaty workout.
Not fair.
Laxmi grabbed her keys and pocketbook. She took a pass on offering her hand for a shake or tiptoeing to meet his lips for a kiss. Instead she said, “Hope everything works out for you. If you’re ever in the city, you have my card.”
She hurriedly opened the door and stepped into the hallway, praying it would quickly swing shut. She sounded like a handyman hoping for a call back after tackling a problem.
“Wait. I’ll walk with you.”
“Not necessary.” She sped up her retreat to the elevator. “I’m in a rush.”
His unhurried footsteps followed her quick strides. She turned the corner to the bank of elevators, ready to summon one. The longer she stayed in this building, the more trapped she felt. Fresh air would help a lot. She waited with a small huddle of hotel guests, hoping that the elevator arrived before Dresden.
But he appeared around the corner, still unhurried, not breathing as if he had to catch up to the finish line, unlike her heaving chest. Maybe he recognized the lack of privacy, because he said nothing, his face a stoic mask. Instead he stood next to her, joining everyone’s stance to stare at the numbers above the elevator as it moved up or down.
Finally a chime behind them indicated a door would open. Laxmi waited for the family of four to board the space before she stepped in and faced front, while Dresden followed suit.
The other guests continued with their conversation, which helped to make the ride down slightly bearable.
“You really didn’t have to come with me,” she whispered.
“You’ve made that clear.”
He sounded annoyed.
The door opened and Laxmi almost tumbled out, glad to be free from the confining space. Now that the exit wasn’t far from where she stood, her equilibrium righted to stiffen her spine.
“Why are you running?” His attention stayed with the flow of foot traffic coming and going through the entrance.
“I’m not. It’s just time for me to go.” She didn’t slow down as she headed through the doors and requested her car.
“And I thought that I was the one to run.” He barely smiled at his joke.
“If I stay, we’d be breaking our pact to remain uninvolved. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I came to a birthday party to hang out with my friend and catch up on our years apart while eating birthday cake. And you were going to be introduced to Grace’s circle.” She stepped off the curb to head for her car that had pulled up. “We were the anomaly of the evening.”
“I have no complaints.” He remained on the curb.
She looked over the top of the car at him. “Neither do I.”
“Well, break the rule. Let’s do this.” His suggestion touched her like the gentleness of his hand cupping her face.
She looked up at the dark night, unable to see any stars. Bright city lights illuminated the steep heights of the buildings. Once upon a time, she had broken lots of rules, done things her way, and had a lot to be sorry for in the process.
Dresden hadn’t moved or changed his expression. Still the handsome guy who’d caught her eye. Did he understand the consequences of tossing out that temptation as a finale for the night?
“Let’s end on a high note.” She got into her car before he responded and before she changed her mind.
Her passenger door opened. Dresden leaned in. “Maybe we’re more alike than you think. And—”
“No.” She shook her head for added emphasis. “You’re in Canada. I’m in New York.”
“There’s such a thing called planes.”
“I’m in entertainment—it’s a hustle. There’s no time for dating or thinking about you. I go where the business takes me. I can barely look after me. I don’t want—”
“I don’t need to be looked after. And life is a hustle that we don’t always get right.”
Laxmi stared straight ahead. She had to erase his words of hope, his expectant look, the memory of what that mouth had delivered on her body. She bit her lip to add a stinging reminder to get it together.
“I don’t have what you’re looking for. I’m not the girlfriend who could be counted on to be reliable or dependable.” Laxmi revved the engine. “But one day you will find that special someone because you’re a nice guy and you’ll see that this wasn’t it.”
“I’ll let you go...for now.” He stepped back and closed the car door.
Laxmi snapped on her seat belt, glanced into the side mirror for oncoming traffic and pushed down on the gas. She needed the city’s frenetic driving scene to harness her attention.
For now.
For now?
Chapter 4 (#u1808e206-a2da-5c1a-a000-b8fdd0ca3587)
Monday promised to feel like the worst hangover Laxmi had ever had without alcohol involved. Insomnia hit two nights in a row, marching in like a tuba player blowing his way into a library. Wide-awake and consumed with Dresden aptly described those sleepless hours. Dreams of him lingered, infusing her thoughts with sexy images of him and playing X-rated loops of him satisfying her. Even now her cheeks warmed under the memory of his actions and her reactions.
Despite her half-hearted plan-A attempt to push the memories off-road, she’d come up with plan B: a late-night, full-blast treadmill run to make her crash from exhaustion into bed. That didn’t help.
Binge-watching TV show marathons of Empire and Power failed, too. Like it was a bad cold, she’d have to let whatever had overcome her run its course until she could get through at least one hour without sighing like a young girl with a crush.
Added to her anxiety was her packed calendar, guaranteed to keep her hopping around New York with a few extended trips. Managing an up-and-coming music artist required patience for the long phase of planting seeds. Mostly the effort drained resources and energy with unbelievable time-suck for promotions. But the breakthrough, just one sliver of light in the seemingly thick darkness, would materialize from one of those wildly tossed seeds on a bleak landscape.
Today, at this very moment, would not be the day for career breakthroughs. After talking to Fiona briefly on the phone, her friend popped up at the recording studio, where Laxmi waited for Tonea’s arrival. The curt conversation clued Laxmi in that Fiona wasn’t happy. She didn’t have to guess what troubled Fiona since it was only the second day since the birthday party and Dresden’s epic departure.
“Laxmi, stop pretending to tune me out. I know you’ve heard every word.”
“Huh?” Laxmi looked up from the control board and over at Fiona, who marched back and forth in the tight space.
Her friend stopped and put her hands on her hips. “No one leaves Grace’s events. First Dresden left. Then you were gone. At least he called to apologize.”
“I called your grandmother and promised my firstborn,” Laxmi clarified half-jokingly.
“But you didn’t call me. And I called you several times.” Fiona pushed Laxmi’s chair with her foot until it swiveled and they faced each other. “Well...?”
“You wouldn’t have let me apologize over the phone. And all my emails about meeting for coffee and a quick chat went unanswered.” Laxmi diverted her attention by scrolling through the calendar on her phone. Better to keep Fiona’s keen investigative powers from detecting any part she’d played in Dresden’s disappearance.
“I was mad, dammit. And I don’t need any more mysteries about my bro—Dresden—to solve. I’ve got a couple unrelated cases about missing teens sitting on my desk.”
“Hello...you’re on vacation. And there’s no mystery to solve about your brother.”
“Well, it’s killing me not to be in the office. I’m heading home tonight.”
“And Leo?” Laxmi had talked to Fiona’s boyfriend for only a few minutes. They looked madly in love and he was quite popular with her cousins and their significant others.
“He’s sticking around Manhattan to deal with Grace’s business.”
Laxmi laughed. “Despite all your whining about your grandmother’s stranglehold on the family, you had to hook up with her lawyer.”
“Estate lawyer. One of many. And ‘stranglehold’ is an overstatement by a fragile teenager.” Fiona grinned, breaking free of the moody attitude.
“Leo seems like a very nice guy and looks really comfortable with your family.”
“He is, on both counts.”
“Love has certainly given you a bloom.”
“Shut up.” Fiona smacked Laxmi’s shoulder. The sappy smile was beyond cute.
“Not lying or teasing you. Really, you look happy, contented. Glad you found your special someone.”
The conversation drifted into silence. Laxmi hoped that she didn’t sound wistful. She had no intention of falling off that cliff again. Some people were meant to be alone and enjoy their company without an apology for the single life.
“I hope you’ll stick around.” Fiona looked hopeful. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do. And you’re always welcome at my house for an old-fashioned slumber party.”
“Yeah, I’d like that. Once I get everything to a point that I can relax, a quick getaway to your upstate New York paradise sounds like a plan.”
“I’ll hold you to it.”
“So tell me what you’re working on for work.” Laxmi hadn’t forgotten the initial reason for Fiona’s visit. Coaxing her to her happy place might minimize how much she gnashed her teeth when she eventually told Fiona the details of Saturday night, minus a few necessary deletions.
“Everyone is treating the latest case as the classic teenage runaway story—dysfunctional family history, mixed up with a bad crowd, or spoiled and wants attention. But I’m not feeling that any of those scenarios paint a complete picture. Some details don’t add up.” Fiona blew out a frustrated sigh. “Budget cuts don’t help matters, either.”
Laxmi always admired her friend for sticking with the job of her heart. To see her ready to dive into the messiest of cases both scared and thrilled her. Nothing remotely dangerous had ever held any fascination for Laxmi.
But when she’d met Fiona in college, they’d hit it off immediately. However, Los Angeles had become the go-to place for what Laxmi had wanted to do. A dream to be a singer and maybe act on the side drove her to the place where millions also chased the chance for a break.
That break came so suddenly and left just as quickly that she’d barely had time to register the accolades and the awards. “One-hit wonder” became her label with the additional descriptor of “an overnight success.” As if all the work she had put in and the road leading up to that moment had been discounted.
Bit by bit, rejection after rejection, Laxmi had grown tired of the game. She was no longer relevant. And racing to catch up was similar to a hamster on a wheel.
Anger and bitter disappointment had grabbed her by the hand and taken her down some roads that never should be traveled. She remembered Fiona reaching out to her many times, trying to reconnect. The memory of her scornful reaction to her friend’s helping hand still shamed her.
Her jealousy, which had blossomed like poison ivy during that time, had driven a wedge between them. She’d deemed it unfair that her journey had never lifted off beyond a certain point with temporary financial success, while Fiona had the safety net of the Meadows name and wealth behind her, regardless of whether she failed at her job. She’d never understood why Fiona wanted to hang on to their friendship.
“You know I always wanted to be you.” Fiona’s laughter filled the studio.
“Good grief, why?” Laxmi waved off Fiona’s protests.
“Really. You had spunk. To leave home and venture out in the unknown showed independence and your badass mind-set.”
“‘Bad’ pretty much sums it up.”
Fiona shook her head. “If you’d stayed in Virginia after college, you wouldn’t have built up the stamina that you’ve got to do all of this. You’re a survivor.”
“It’s called paying the bills.”
“You can downplay it all you want. But I came to several concerts. I saw how you interacted with your fans. I heard that voice, too. Special. Unique. Hadn’t reached its fullest potential.”
“What?” Laxmi hadn’t thought Fiona’s interest went beyond casual support of her music. “Why didn’t you let me know?”
Fiona shrugged. “Guess I was a teensy bit jealous. You looked great onstage. Fans screamed your name. You were gorgeous, famous and living your dream.”
“Makeup and lighting, honey, do wonders. And hardly famous. Maybe two people knew me on sight.” Laxmi nudged her. Compliments embarrassed her and she preferred hiding behind an air of indifference. “Anyway, I would’ve loved to see you there.”
“Yeah, my maturity was at the ground-floor level. So much time wasted on small stuff. Taking a page from Grace’s philosophy. No do-overs. Pull up your big-girl panties and move your behind toward your happiness. Friends forever.”
“Friends forever,” Laxmi echoed before Fiona crashed into her with a tight hug.
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