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Pleasure for Two
Pamela Yaye


Still stung from her ex-husband's betrayal, Dominique King has vowed never again to let a man play her for a fool. But everything changes the night she meets flat-out gorgeous Marcel Benoit. With one smoldering glance and that sexy accent…Dominique's hooked. And for the first time in her life, she's letting passion rule her heart–and loving it!From the moment he opens the door to Dominique, Marcel knows he has to have her. The ambitious Ph.D. student may be new to the U.S., but that doesn't stop him from pursuing the stunning, sassy banker. Sharing kisses on a sun-drenched tropical beach, Marcel and Dominique's dream of love is almost within reach. But long-held secrets threaten to darken their paradise. Unless they can learn to trust in themselves…and in each other….









“How does that feel? Is it too much pressure, just right or not enough?”


Marcel grunted his approval. He’d had massages before, but never like this. Sexual tension engulfed the room, stirring something deep within him. He couldn’t believe what Dominique was doing with her hands.

“Are you comfortable enough?”

To keep from moaning out loud, he nodded in response. Marcel felt as if he was about to blow. Dominique cupped, kneaded and stroked his body with such urgency that lines of electricity zipped down his back. Each bolt was stronger than the last, deeper and more intense than anything he’d ever experienced.

Try as he might, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting her, and he finally gave up after a valiant effort. His eyes shot open when he felt her hands on his backside. Lifting his head off the table, he turned and stared over his shoulder at her. His vision was clouded with lust, but he saw the heat in her eyes. Dominique had sex on the brain, and when she slowly licked her lips, Marcel jumped to his feet. Now it was on.




PAMELA YAYE


has a bachelor’s degree in Christian education and has been writing short stories since elementary school. Her love for African-American fiction and literature prompted her to actively pursue a career in writing romance. When she’s not reading or working on her latest novel, she’s watching basketball, cooking or planning her next vacation. Pamela lives in Calgary, Canada, with her handsome husband, adorable daughter and precious newborn son.




Pleasure for Two

Pamela Yaye





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Dear Reader,

I appreciate all the support and encouragement you’ve given me since I published my first Kimani novel, way back in April 2007. I know it’s been only three years, but it seems like eons ago! Maybe it’s because I love writing stories about strong, intelligent women, and the confident, take-charge men who love them—like Dominique and Marcel in Pleasure for Two.

To earn some extra money and help her kid sister out financially, Dominique King becomes a certified masseuse, and builds up an impressive client list within just weeks of completing the course. At a pool party one sweltering August afternoon she meets a dark, broad-shouldered hunk named Marcel Benoit. He has the thickest, sexiest lips she has ever seen, and when they touch, sparks fly. Acting on her impulses has never felt more right. But one reckless night of pleasure has serious consequences for the couple.

Marcel is ready to change his bachelor status. He’s nothing if not determined, and he sets out to prove to Dominique that he can be trusted with her heart.

Look for my next novel, Promises We Make, in February 2011. It’s a sexy office romance with a delicious twist that you won’t see coming! And be sure to visit me at www.pamelayaye.com.

Until next time,

Pamela Yaye




Acknowledgments


Jean-Claude and Aysiah, you mean the world to me, and I feel truly blessed to have such a loving husband and daughter.

I don’t mean to brag, but God also blessed me with the world’s best parents. Mom and Dad, I love you with all my heart, always and forever.

Kenneth and Bettey Odidison, I couldn’t have asked for better siblings. I’m glad we all grew out of that crazy teenage phase (it was never fun breaking up your fights! haha). You guys are two of my favorite people, and I am counting down the days until we’re all together again.

Sha-Shana Crichton: Your support and friendship mean a lot to me. Thanks for taking a chance on me and believing that I could make it in this business.

Kelli Martin: Thanks for pushing me to dig deep and to write a story that readers will love and that I can be proud of. (And for not shortening my love scenes!)




Contents


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Epilogue




Chapter 1


“Yo, man, where the strippers at?”

Marcel Benoit mopped the sweat from his brow and continued loading the cooler. If it were up to him, Caesar would be at his dorm instead of at the bachelor party, but since the college senior was the groom’s younger brother he’d had no choice but to invite him. “Caesar, for the third time, they’re not strippers. They’re massage therapists.”

“Right, and I’m saving myself for marriage!”

Ignoring him, Marcel ripped open another case of Bud Light. It was a typical August afternoon in Seattle, and although dark fleecy clouds sailed across the sky, the air was warm. His uncle’s estate was the perfect place for Will’s bachelor party, and as he watched one of the groom’s portly cousins dive into the pool, he made a mental note to add more steaks to the grill.

“The massage therapy thing is just their cover. All the girls who work at Destination Wellness offer extra services.”

Marcel’s head whipped up. “They do?”

“Hell, yeah,” Caesar said, before adding, “for an additional fee, of course.”

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner? If I had known it wasn’t a reputable spa I never would have used it.”

“I know. That’s why I didn’t tell you!” Wearing a crooked half smile, he slipped on his gray aviator sunglasses. “You could use some TLC, man. You’ve been miserable ever since that Sarita chick dumped you, and hooking up with a hot babe would do wonders for your psyche. I know you get plenty of heat from the girls on the Seattle University campus, but the sisters who work at Destination Wellness look like centerfolds!”

Marcel glanced over at the group of guys playing poker. As best man, it was up to him to keep the groom on the straight and narrow. If he didn’t, Will’s fiancée would go ballistic. Since it was too late to cancel the six massage therapists, he’d just have to keep Will close and be on the lookout for any home wreckers.

“I’m going to go call my girl,” Caesar announced, fishing out a Heineken from the cooler. “See you later, man.”

“When’s the grub going to be ready?” hollered the groom, packing a handful of tortilla chips into his open mouth. “I’m starving. Hook me up with a hot link or something!”

Chuckling, Marcel turned back toward the grill. He added more steaks to the bottom rack, slathered them with a coat of barbecue sauce and closed the hood. “Listen, before you guys get wasted, I’d like to make a toast.”

The groom lowered his cards. “All right, but make it quick. I’m on a winning streak,” he said jokingly.

Everyone quieted down and Marcel began.

“Will Arroyo was one of the first people I met when I moved from Mauritius five years ago. He helped me get settled into my new place, showed me around Seattle and hooked me up with my first job.” He raised his beer bottle in salute. “I wish you nothing but the best, man. You’ve always looked out for me, and if not for you I probably would have frozen to death that first winter!”

The guys chuckled, but no one laughed harder than the groom. “Marcel was a sorry sight, ya’ll. One day I rolled up on him waiting for the bus, and he had no gloves, no cap and no jacket. His teeth were chattering so loud that he startled the children standing nearby!”

More laughs rang out.

“Will, it’s not too late to back out,” one of his younger cousins said. “I’ll gas up the Lincoln Navigator, and we can hit the road. Vegas, anyone?”

The guys laughed, but Will declined the offer. “I can’t wait to marry Thalia, you guys. She’s my dream woman. Outgoing, funny…”

Everyone groaned, and Marcel bit back a laugh. Will drove a Harley-Davidson and loved extreme sports, but he got choked up every time he talked about his fiancée.

Some guys have all the luck, Marcel thought, taking a swig of his beer. He was the oldest of six, but all of his siblings were married with children. Tired of the single scene, he was looking forward to meeting the right woman and starting a family of his own. Sarita wasn’t coming back, and in light of what he’d discovered about her in recent weeks, he should be thanking his lucky stars that she’d dumped him and sunk her claws into a rich pro athlete. Sure, he could have used some of the money in his trust fund to win her back, but after talking things over with Will he’d quickly come to his senses. That money was for his future, not to blow on a gold digger who had no conscience.

And then there was the fact that his student visa expired soon, and there were too many new applicants for him to get an extension. If he didn’t find an engineering job by then, he’d have to return to Mauritius. Marcel missed his family, but he didn’t want to go home—not when he’d worked so hard to make a life for himself in Seattle.

“Are there any more of those egg roll things?” Will asked, pulling Marcel from his reverie. “I’m starving, and the steak’s nowhere near done.”

Still consumed with thoughts of his future, Marcel stood and strolled through the double French doors leading into the house. Bright and inviting with thick columns and an elegant curved staircase, the Beacon Hill home had been decorated with pharmacy lamps, bright ornamental pieces and plush couches. The focal point of the living room was the grand piano, and as Marcel passed it, he wondered why his uncle would pay thousands of dollars for something he never used.

Inside the pantry, Marcel rummaged around in the freezer. Arms filled with boxes of frozen foods, he closed the door with his foot and started back toward the kitchen. He heard a car horn beep and glanced out the window in time to see a black Range Rover pull up in front of his uncle’s house. Marcel didn’t recognize the car, but when he saw a dark, shapely sister slip out of the driver’s seat he stopped short. As I live and breathe, I’ve never seen a more stunning woman. Blown away, he wondered if the ebony angel was the masseuse he’d spoken to on the phone last week. Dominique…Dominique King. That was her name. A gorgeous name for a gorgeous woman, he decided, watching her with growing interest.

His eyes raked over her svelte body. Sleek, glossy hair fell casually down her back. It was hair he wanted to touch and stroke and bury his fingers in. Though casually dressed in a white tank top and shorts, he could tell this sister with the sky-high cheekbones had very expensive tastes. Her face had a natural glow, and her movements were graceful. Peering through the glass, he fought a strong, overpowering desire for a woman he’d never met but was desperate to.

Does this count as spying? Deciding it didn’t, he inched closer to the window. Sweat began to soak through his T-shirt as his eyes explored the beautiful stranger. Unable to turn away, he took in every curvaceous inch. Man, she’s something. Worried he might be spotted, he shielded himself behind heavy burgundy drapes.

Doors opened and slammed. Five women wearing pink Destination Wellness T-shirts joined the driver at the back of the SUV and helped her unload the trunk. Caesar wasn’t kidding when he said the sisters at Destination Wellness were centerfolds. Carrying cases in hand, they marched up the cobblestone walkway in single file. Well, everyone except the driver. She didn’t walk; she glided.

Snapping to, he streaked into the kitchen, dropped the boxes on the counter and checked his reflection in the hallway mirror. By the time the doorbell rang, he was ready to meet the sister with the smoky eyes and winsome curves.

“You must be Dominique,” he said. “I’m Marcel. We spoke on the phone last week.”

“Of course, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

Her voice was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

“These are my coworkers.” She gestured to the women behind her. “This is Electra, Jasmine, Suzette…”

Like a twister in a deserted field, his thoughts ran wild. Dominique wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, but he knew there was no way this chocolate beauty was single. If by some stroke of luck she was, she probably had brothers chasing her down at every turn.

“Can we come inside?”

“Yes, of course, please come in.”

When Dominique stepped past him, he leaned in and inhaled her scent. Mesmerized. That was how he felt when her fragrance drifted over him. Marcel was drawn to her, intrigued, filled with feelings he thought died when his ex-girlfriend, Sarita, had callously dumped him. But as he admired Dominique’s perfectly coiffed hair and French manicured nails, he realized she was way out of his league. A woman like Dominique King would never look twice at a guy like him, so the quicker he dealt with his attraction to her, the better off he’d be. “Can I interest you ladies in something to drink? The bar is fully stocked with water, juice and beer.”

The women smiled politely but shook their heads.

“This is a lovely home,” Dominique said, glancing around. “Did you want us to set up in the living room or out in the backyard?”

Marcel thought for a moment. He wanted the groomsmen to have a good time, but he didn’t want anyone pushing up on Dominique. Getting into a fistfight over a woman he barely knew would be juvenile, but he’d fight to the death before he let Kevin or Raheem steal her out from under him. “How about half of you stay here and the rest work outside?”

Dominique shared a confused look with the brunette standing beside her. “Okay, I guess that would be all right. Aja and Heather will stay here with me and…”

Marcel heard someone behind him, but he didn’t turn around. Dominique was speaking, and she deserved his undivided attention, which he planned to give her plenty of.



“My, my, my, what do we have here?”

Dominique trailed off when a man in blue swimming trunks swaggered into the room. Today must be my lucky day, she thought. It’s raining men! First, she’d met Marcel Benoit and now another cutie was bounding toward her. This guy in blue trunks had a nice smile, but he wasn’t nearly as handsome as Marcel. While Suzette made the introductions, Dominique discreetly checked out the soft-spoken millionaire she’d spoken to twice last week.

Marcel was the clean-cut, athletic-looking type. His skin was the shade of Hershey’s Kisses, and she suspected his lips tasted just as sweet. He spoke with a slight but distinct French accent, and if that wasn’t enough to excite her, he had the sexiest mouth she had ever seen. Though dressed modestly in shorts and a T-shirt, Marcel had a distinguished, almost regal bearing about him. Add to that his staggering wealth, and he was a perfect ten. His mansion was a bold, lavish display of his riches, and she was thoroughly impressed. Inside the garage, she’d spotted three luxury vehicles, a pair of jet skis and enough antique furniture to beautify the Vatican church. Marcel Benoit was exactly her type—established, accomplished and successful—and she was determined to get to know him better. Mixing business with pleasure was never a good idea, but Dominique wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of her spending quality time with the attractive millionaire.

“Why don’t I show you ladies to the pool?” said the guy in the blue trunks, his pearly whites blinding. “The groomsmen are all chilling out back.”

Marcel cleared his throat. “I thought it might be too crowded outside, so some of the women are going to work in here.”

“Oh, there’s plenty of room.” Kevin motioned with his head toward the French doors. “Besides, it’s much too nice outside to be cooped up in here. Don’t you agree, ladies?”

Behind her, Dominique heard her coworkers giggle.

“Would you like something to eat before we get started?” Marcel addressed the group, but he was staring right at her. “I could show you to the food tables if you’d like.”

Heart pulsing, mouth dry, she combed a lock of hair away with her hands. Dominique would like nothing more than to have some one-on-one time with the wealthy businessman, but the guy in blue trunks seemed intent on spoiling her plans.

“Marcel, you’re in charge of the barbecue, remember? You finish grilling the steaks, and I’ll help the ladies set up out back. Don’t worry, man. I’ll handle it.”

The matter decided, Kevin took Dominique by the elbow and led her out unto the patio.



Fingers splayed, Dominique kneaded the muscles between the groomsman’s shoulder blades, applying more pressure as she inched down his spine. Lying flat on his stomach, his eyes closed and his head cocked to the side, Tobias Carlson complained bitterly about his court-ordered child support payments and the financial toll his divorce had taken on him.

Dominique hated working bachelor parties, but since the clients were willing to pay more for the in-home service, she’d canceled her blind date and reported to work. As Tobias droned on about his twelve-room vacation home in Bel Air, Dominique searched the backyard for a distraction—a tall, toned distraction with a titillating French accent. Her gaze fell on Marcel Benoit, and time stopped. His arms cut powerfully through the water as he swam the length of the pool. The wind blew warm against her face, intensifying her already sweltering temperature.

Watching him, she wondered why he wasn’t already married. Her friends all liked bad boys, but she’d always been attracted to quiet, respectable guys. Good manners were a definite turn-on, and Marcel was polite and gracious. He wasn’t the life of the party, but he didn’t need to be. He was the best-looking man there, and although he hadn’t tried talking to her again, Dominique was confident he would. They’d been sneaking covert glances at each other, pretending to be uninterested, but when their eyes met she felt a rush of divine pleasure.

With extreme interest, she watched as Marcel trudged up the steps of the circular pool. His body was overrun with taut muscles, and seeing his bare chest made her mouth water. To regain control of her loose mind, Dominique forced her eyes away. But as she glanced around the yard, she noticed that her colleagues were ogling him, too. Back off, vultures! He’s mine!

“Your hands are magic,” Tobias praised. “Are you available on Wednesday mornings? I could use a good rubdown after my weight class.”

Dominique didn’t answer. The extra money she made working weekends helped pay the bills, but she wasn’t going to jeopardize her position at First Centennial Trust for anyone—not even a high roller like Tobias Carlston.

“Sorry, but I only work weekends.”

Turing onto his side, he propped his head up with his elbow. Not only was he failing miserably at appearing cool but it looked like he was posing for a trashy magazine. “Then, we’ll have dinner instead. Eight o’clock sound good?”

Dominique retrieved a cloth from her bag, and cleaned the massage oil from her hands. With as much sympathy as she could muster, she slowly recited the line she fed all of her clients who hit on her. “Call me next week, and I’ll try to see what I can do.”

His frown spoke of his disapproval. Breathing heavily through his nose, he reached into his pocket and offered her a wrinkled fifty-dollar bill. “This is for you.”

“Thank you.” Without touching him, Dominique slid the money out from his fingers. Her cell phone rang, and she fished it out of her purse. “I have to take this call. See you later.”

Tobias eased off the portable bed and stood with his hands splayed on his hips. He looked pissed, but Dominique didn’t care. Her sister was calling, and his massage had officially ended five minutes ago. Wanting privacy, she rushed inside the house, ducked into the main-floor bathroom and locked the door.

“How are you guys doing?” Dominique asked after greeting her sister.

“Good, but we miss you. You promised to come by last night. What gives?”

“I was planning to, but I got asked to work at the spa at the last minute. Now that I finally have my massage therapy certification, I’ve been working as many hours as possible.” Only a year apart, Taryn and Dominique were often mistaken for twins, and despite their furious schedules, they talked several times a day. “Now, pass the phone to Summer. I saw her profile on Facebook, and Ms. Thang definitely needs a talking to. A thirteen-year-old has no business wearing miniskirts and fishnet stockings!”

After chastising her niece, Dominique ended the call. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she decided another trip to her dermatologist was in order. Botox scared her, but a facial reflexology treatment would give her skin a soft, healthy glow. Two hundred dollars was a steep fee, but she was a thirty-three-year-old woman living in a city overrun with college students, and it was important to stay ahead of the competition.

Exiting the bathroom, her thoughts on her sister and the kids, she failed to notice Marcel in the kitchen until he called out her name. “Is everything all right?” he asked, stepping out from behind the granite island. “I don’t mean to pry, but you look worried.”

For a moment, Dominique couldn’t speak. The sensual sound of his voice aroused her, making her feel nervous and excited at the same time. Hoping she didn’t look as stupid as she felt, she held up her phone. “I was just talking to my sister. She was giving me a hard time for not coming over for dinner last night.”

“It’s tough being the oldest, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she said, puzzled by his assessment. “How did you know I was the oldest?”

Dark, slanted eyes focused on her face, and heat flooded her cheeks. “You’re a woman who likes to be in control, who likes to take care of others. Those are some of the traits of the first child. Am I wrong?”

“Let me guess, you’re the oldest, too, right?”

His smiled matched her own. “I have four sisters and one brother.”

“Your poor mom. All that estrogen in one house makes for a whole lot of drama. I have two sisters, and every time my dad left for work, he’d say he wasn’t coming back!”

“Were you raised in Seattle?” Marcel asked once her laughter died down. “Or are you from somewhere else like half the people in the city?”

“I’m a native. My mom lives not too far from here in Loyal Heights, and my dad…well, he died a few years back.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was his time.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier though, does it?” His features softened. “My father passed away eight months ago, and there are times when I still can’t believe he’s gone.”

Dominique started to speak but stopped. Talking about her dad brought bittersweet memories, and she feared that if they remained on the subject she’d break down like she had at his funeral on that cold November morning he’d been laid to rest at Mountain Gardens.

“I hope you’re going to stay for dinner.”

After spending the past two hours on her feet, she welcomed an opportunity to sit down and enjoy a good meal, especially with such a handsome man. “I don’t know. That depends on the other girls. We came together and…” When Dominique heard a loud shrill of laughter, she glanced at the French doors. Her coworkers were sitting around the patio table, stuffing their faces with shrimp and guzzling goblets of wine.

“I guess we’re staying,” she announced, laughing. “But we better get out there before all the food is gone. Electra used to be an amateur bodybuilder, and I once saw her eat a whole turkey for lunch!”

“Why don’t we sit in the living room? It’s quiet, and we’ll be more comfortable than out on the patio.”

“Shouldn’t we join your friends? After all, you are the one hosting the party.”

“They’ve got food, beer and five very attractive women to keep them company,” he pointed out. “They don’t need me. And besides, I’d much rather spend more time talking with you.”

Her blood pressure spiked. Dominique could feel the energy pulsing between them and wondered if he did, too. He was standing astoundingly close to her, but she didn’t—no, couldn’t—move away. “Well, in that case I just have one question,” she said, slanting her head to the right. “Do you have any crazy ex-wives or baby mamas I need to know about?”

“Not that I know of.”

Dominique wore a sultry smile. “Good, then let’s eat!”

They relaxed comfortably on the sofa and discussed current events while they ate dinner. Conversation came easily, and Marcel loved hearing such a smart, savvy sister talk about business and politics. Overflowing with confidence, Dominique didn’t shy away from sharing her opinion or challenging his views. She loved art and music and shared his passion for literature. Without fear, she spoke like a woman who had all of the answers to life’s problems, and when she closed her eyes and began reciting a Prodigal C. Lewis poem, he was blown away.

“The beauty of your smile consumes my soul; lost, I turn to you for self-control.” She whispered the lines, the words flowing gracefully off her lips. “For love and all the pleasures it can give, are found in you and we’ll eternally live.” Dominique placed a hand on her chest. “Have you ever heard anything so moving?”

“I toured Prodigal C. Lewis’s village when I went to Marco Island a few years ago.” Hoping to impress her, he spoke truthfully about the experience. “Seeing his childhood home had a profound effect on me, and even after all these years, I still remember how inspired I felt reading the notes scribbled on his bedroom walls.”

“Wow, I’m so jealous. I’d love to see where he grew up.” Her voice dripped with awe. “Prodigal C. Lewis is one of the most prolific poets who ever lived, and every time I read Enchanted Souls I always break down and cry.”

“Me, too.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Uh-huh. I’m one of those deep, sensitive brothers who isn’t afraid to show his emotions,” he said, fighting to keep a straight face. When Dominique rolled her eyes, he chuckled. “Isn’t that what every woman wants? A man with a soft, tender side?”

“That’s not what I want! That’s how I like my steak!” She tossed back her head and laughed. “The truth is I want to be wined and dined and romanced.”

“Well, in that case, I better keep the Chablis coming!” Marcel lifted the wine bottle and tipped it toward her goblet. “There’s just enough to fill your glass.”

Dominique stretched out her hand, preventing him from pouring. “I can’t. I’m the designated driver tonight, and I’ve already reached my limit.”

“If you need to, you’re more than welcome to spend the night.”

“Right,” she quipped, “me and the girls will sleep on the couch.”

“This estate has five master bedrooms, so if you’re not up to driving, you can all stay here.”

At first, Dominique thought he was joking, but when she saw the concern in his eyes, she knew he was serious. Lean and dark with clear brown skin, Marcel had governance about him, a gentility that instantly put her at ease. She’d only known him for a few hours, but she wasn’t put off by his shocking offer. “We’ll be okay. It’s a short drive back to the spa and—”

Marcel touched her leg, and her voice failed. Stunned by the tenderness of his caress, she put a hand to her chest, hoping to control her staggering heartbeat. Reminding herself that he was a stranger—albeit a very attractive one—helped her remain focused. Apprehension tempered her desire, but he had lips she wanted to kiss, hands she ached to hold, and eyes so dreamy that she felt light-headed just looking at him.

“I hope you don’t think I’m coming on too strong. I just want you to be safe.”

Kissing a man she’d known for all of three hours was unimaginable, but it was all Dominique could think of. To keep from acting on her feelings, she shifted over ever so slightly. Better. Now their legs weren’t touching.

Needing a distraction, Dominique stared out the living-room window. A recreational haven, the upscale suburban community had it all—a sports complex the size of a football field, wide bike paths that sloped around steep valleys and inspiring mountain views. “This is a lot of house for one person,” she noted, stealing a quick glance at him. “Do you live here alone?”

“I wish,” he said, with a light chuckle. “This is my uncle’s place. I’m just house-sitting while he’s away on business.”

She wore a surprised, slightly puzzled look on her face. “This is not your house?”

Marcel heard the disappointment in her voice and wished he’d said something sooner. Of course she thought the mansion belonged to him. And wasn’t that what he’d wanted her to think? He’d never met such a smart, vibrant woman, and their connection was unlike anything he’d ever known. Dominique King was a standout beauty living the good life, and he had nothing to offer her. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy her company for a few more minutes, did it? Still he decided to remain truthful.

“Do you live nearby?” she asked.

“No, I’m all the way up in Hurst Park.”

Dominique gulped. The working-class neighbourhood was a far cry from Beacon Hill, and according to the evening news it was a hotbed for gang activity. Let down, she tried not to let her disapproval show. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a full-time graduate student and part-time research assistant.” Wearing a self-conscious grin, he rubbed a hand over his fine, textured hair. “As you can imagine, the biomedical engineering program at the Seattle University is very demanding. I spend a lot of hours studying, and that doesn’t leave me much time for anything else.”

Her face fell. Marcel was a penniless graduate student living in the east end? The best thing Dominique had ever done for herself was to kick her lazy, philandering ex-husband to the curb, and she wasn’t interested in dating another broke man. Dating a student—even one as fine as Marcel Benoit—wasn’t an option.

Feeling a twinge of guilt, she dodged his intrusive gaze. An awkward silence ensued. During dinner they’d talked to each other, and now she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Was it true what her sisters said about her? Was she an uptight snob who gave men a hard time?

To assuage her conscience, she asked Marcel about his plans for the future. Finding an engineering position was his goal, and although graduation was still four months away, he’d already been on a dozen interviews.

“I know we don’t know each other that well, but I was hoping—”

“I can’t go out with you,” she blurted. Remembering her father’s own humble beginnings made Dominique readjust her attitude. Her dad had worked a slew of minimum-wage jobs to put himself through law school and had graduated at the top of his class. “You’re a nice guy, but I just don’t have time to date.”

Marcel forced a smile, but inside he was seething. What was it with these career women? They complained about not being able to find a good man but constantly overlooked guys like him. Status-conscious, Dominique would never consider dating a guy outside of her tax bracket, and as he watched her fiddle with her designer watch, he felt his interest wane. “I don’t have time to date either. I’m involved in several committees at school and busy with assignments and research papers.”

Dominique’s cheeks burned when she realized her mistake. This had to be one of the most humiliating moments of her life. He must think I’m a real snob now, she thought, sinking further into her seat. I turned him down, but he wasn’t even asking me out! Skin prickling with embarrassment, she lowered her eyes to her lap. Wishing she could disappear, or be magically transported back to her condo in Montlake, she bit the bullet and apologized. “I’m sorry for interrupting. What was it you were going to ask?”

“One of the students I tutor is looking for an office administrator position, and I was wondering if you needed anyone at Destination Wellness. Helene is very meticulous about her work, and she’d be an asset to any business.”

“Sure, tell her to come by with her résumé, and I’ll see what I can do.”

The wall clock chimed, and Dominique glanced over at it. Laughter flowed in from the patio, and when she heard chairs scrape against the floor, she stood up. “It sounds like you have a very promising future ahead of you, Marcel,” she said, meaning every word. “I hope everything works out for the best.”

“Me, too, and thanks in advance for putting in a good word for Helene.”

They were joined by their friends and remained in the foyer talking for another fifteen minutes. Marcel grabbed some bags and escorted Dominique and her colleagues out to her SUV.

Mindful of him watching her, she slipped behind the wheel and started the engine. While her coworkers counted their tips, she watched Marcel through the rearview mirror. The muscles in his arms flexed when he heaved the portable tables inside. Her eyes slipped over his shoulders and slid down to the hard walls of his chest. Perspiration dotted her forehead. The rapid acceleration of Dominique’s heartbeat made it almost impossible to breathe. Ordering her body into submission, she put the car in Drive and waved as she pulled away. Her feelings for Marcel were lust-driven, but as she stole another peek at him in her mirror, she knew it was going to be impossible to forget the hot graduate student with the killer physique.




Chapter 2


Sunday morning dawned bright and clear. The sun had a faint halo around it, and a sweet, floral fragrance drifted on the summer breeze, filling Dominique’s Range Rover with its heady scent. Seeing a vacant parking spot in front of Campion Residence Hall, she slowed down and eased her SUV carefully into the narrow space.

Balancing the tray of tea from Starbucks in her right hand, Dominique closed the driver’s-side door with the other. Mindful of the puddles dotting the sidewalk, she strode cautiously toward her sister’s on-campus apartment.

As Dominique passed the engineering building, she was reminded of a sexy hunk with a dreamy smile. Her thoughts were overrun with images of Marcel Benoit. They shared the same interests, and his way of thinking fascinated her. And as Dominique reflected on the hour-long conversation she’d had with him last weekend, she wondered if she should have given him her phone number. Marcel might not be rolling in dough, but he was obviously a great guy—the kind of man who wouldn’t mistreat her or dog her out. Why not get to know him better?

Anxious to see Jenna, Dominique sailed into the Seattle University dormitory and climbed the stairs to the second floor. Jenna’s door was ajar, and when Dominique pushed it open, she found her sister hunched over the desk writing furiously on a yellow notepad.

“I brought breakfast,” she sang, stepping over a mound of dirty clothes. “Now get over here and give your big sister a hug!”

Jenna leaped to her feet. “Dominique, what are you doing here?”

“I came to check up on you. I haven’t seen you in weeks, and I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

Within minutes, the sisters were sitting on the unmade bed, sipping ginger tea and munching on apple muffins. A self-proclaimed tomboy with a penchant for hooded sweatshirts, Jenna was the quietest of Dominique’s sisters, and despite being born with a heart defect, the nineteen-year-old sophomore never complained about her health.

“Everything okay?” Dominique asked, studying her sister closely. Aside from the dark rings under her eyes, she looked like her usual bubbly self. “Have you had any more fainting spells?”

Jenna shook her head. “I think the new medication Dr. Petrov prescribed is working. Sometimes after taking it I get queasy, but that’s about it.”

Remembering the conversation she’d had with her mom yesterday, she wondered if now was a good time to discuss her sister moving back home. Dominique didn’t like the idea of her mom living alone, especially since there had been a string of robberies in the area. “Jenna, Mom really misses you, and—”

“I’m not going back home.”

“Would you at least hear me out before you say no?”

Pouting, she crossed her arms. “I’m tired of Mom babying me. That’s why I left. To get away from her constant nagging.” Jenna stuffed her empty cup into the trash. “I’m not a kid anymore, Niq. I don’t need Mom to fix my meals or make my bed. I’m almost twenty.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” Dominique told her. “I wish I had someone to do my laundry and cook me dinner.”

“Good, then why don’t you go live with Mom?”

Ignoring the jab, she pointed at Jenna’s disheveled closet and packed clothes hamper. “You’re obviously having a hard time staying on top of things. It might not be a bad idea to go home for a while.”

“I haven’t had time to clean up,” she explained, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands. “I worked forty hours last week.”

“Why? We agreed that you’d only work at the mall part-time.”

“I need the money, Niq. I have to pay my tuition on Monday.”

“Speaking of which, how did you do on your summer courses?”

Jenna yawned. “All right, I guess. I got two As and a B.”

“Way to go! Your GPA’s going to skyrocket this term.” Wrapping her arms around Jenna, Dominique leaned over and pecked her cheek. “We’re all really proud of you, sis. Keep it up!”

“I’ll try.” Standing, she stretched her hands over her head. “Listen, I better get my butt in gear, or I’m going to be late. The Adult Literacy Program meeting starts in an hour.”

“You joined another committee? Why would you do that when you have so much going on already?”

“Because they’re short of tutors,” she explained. “You should come, Niq. It’s a lot of fun.”

Dominique considered going with Jenna. She could hand out some of her business cards and post some Destination Wellness flyers onto the bulletin board. “How long does it last?”

“An hour.” Jenna tossed an arm around her shoulder, an innocent smile on her lips. “Niq, is there any way I could get a small loan? All I need is a hundred and fifty dollars.”

“What is it for this time?”

“I have to get the textbooks for my algebra course, and I don’t get paid until next week.”

There goes my facial, she thought, picking up her purse and plunking it on her lap. Unzipping it, she retrieved her wallet. Dominique counted out two hundred dollars in cash and handed it to her sister. “If you don’t get an A in your algebra class, you’re dead!” she joked.

Staring down at the money, Jenna licked her lips as if a sixteen-ounce steak had just been placed in front of her. “Can I get a pair of jeans, too?”

“Don’t push it,” Dominique warned, concealing a smile. Because of her two jobs, she’d missed out on spending quality time with her sisters, and as she watched Jenna rummaging around in her closet for something clean to wear, guilt consumed her. Now that her dad was gone, she was the head of the family. So she had to do a better job of keeping in touch with Jenna, because it was clear her kid sister needed her support. “Jenna, I told Mom you’d phone her tonight. Don’t forget. She’s expecting your call after dinner.”

“All right, all right. I’ll call her.” Jenna grabbed a towel from her drawer and put on a plastic shower cap. “Will you be here when I get back?”

Dominique put a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Of course, you’re taking me to lunch after this meeting!”



The sultry August heat was unbearable, and as Dominique trailed Jenna into the large state-of-the-art building, she dabbed at the perspiration on her cheeks. The campus library was thronged with students and faculty, but when Dominique stepped through the beveled glass doors, Marcel Benoit was the first person she saw.

Peering around the checkout desk while still remaining concealed, she tried to get a better look at the sexy heartthrob. Dominique couldn’t remember ever being this enamored with a man. Marcel had a confidence about him—a strong, compelling presence that couldn’t be denied or contained. The sleeves on his button-down shirt were rolled up, displaying arms rippling with muscle.

Growing aroused, she removed every sinful thought from her mind. Get a grip, girl. You’re too old to be drooling over a guy! The library was filled with dozens of cute brothers, but Marcel stood out from the pack. He wasn’t tattooed or pierced, and his pants weren’t hanging off his butt like the other guys strutting around. Marcel obviously took pride in his appearance, and she liked a man who knew how to dress.

“You’re going the wrong way,” Jenna said, taking her by the arm and leading her through the main floor. “The Adult Literacy Program group meets at the learning center at the back of the library.”

Dominique’s heart raced. Now they were heading toward Marcel. Excited to see him again, she picked up her pace. He glanced up from his textbook, and Dominique’s legs froze. His lips clamped together; he wore a serious, almost guarded expression—one that said she wasn’t welcome. “Do you know the guy sitting at the round table?” she asked, glancing at Jenna. “The one in the collared shirt and tan pants?”

“Yeah, that’s Marcel Benoit. His fiancée’s in my study group and—”

“Fiancée!” Seething inwardly, she told her sister about the bachelor party she worked at last week and her conversation with the soft-spoken Frenchman. “He told me he was single.”

“No, he’s definitely engaged,” she said, nodding her head. “Girls are always flirting with him, but he only has eyes for Sarita. He’s completely devoted to her.”

Effecting an air of nonchalance, Dominique pretended not to notice Marcel watching her. He actually had the nerve to glare at her. She didn’t need this. It was a warm, sunny day, and she had better things to do than hang out at the campus library with a womanizing cheat. Spending time with Jenna was important to her, but if Marcel started any mess or made any snide comments, she was hitting the road.

To squelch a sudden wave of nausea, she breathed in deeply through her nose.

Marcel slowly got to his feet, and his lips curled into a wide smile as he approached. “Hi, Jenna. It’s been a while since I saw you last. How was your summer?”

“It was great but way too short,” she said and laughed. “Hey, Marcel, this is my sister, Dominique. I told her the literacy program was short of tutors, and she offered to help out.”

His gaze bounced between them. “You’re sisters? I never would have guessed it. You look nothing alike, and your personalities are so different.”

“In other words, Jenna’s cool and I’m a snob.” It amused Dominique to tease him, but when he averted his eyes, her heart sank. Was that what he thought? Just because she liked dating accomplished men didn’t mean she treated people like crap. She didn’t.

“Marcel, can you pair Dominique up with someone?” Jenna asked, looking over her shoulder. “I need to talk to the girls in my study group, but I’ll be right back.”

His eyes darkened, but he said, “Sure, I don’t mind. In fact, I was about to head back there and see how the groups are faring.”

As they passed the information center, Marcel told Dominique more about the Adult Literacy Program. “There aren’t many groups like this around, and even fewer are geared toward adult learners.” Having reached a row of desks, he stopped and handed her a stack of thin paperback books.

Dominique read the titles out loud. “But these are all children’s books.”

“Most of the adults who come to the program are reading at a fifth-grade level. They can’t read To Kill a Mockingbird or War and Peace yet, Dominique.”

“I understand that, but Maria and the Bully isn’t going to hold their interest.”

The muscles in his neck were pulled tight. “Why don’t you just concentrate on tutoring and let me worry about choosing the right reading materials for the participants?”

Not wanting to overstep her bounds, she apologized. “I’m sorry, Marcel. I didn’t mean to imply that you’re not doing a good job.”

His smile returned, so she continued.

“City University of Seattle offers a similar program for French speakers, and my comprehension improved dramatically once I joined. We watched movies, listened to music and even read popular magazines and comics.”

Marcel shook his head. “That would never work here.”

“How do you know unless you try?”

“Touché,” he said, with a nod. “Maybe you can tell me more about it over coffee.”

“I’d love to.” Guilt rained down on her. What was she doing? Marcel had a girlfriend—correction, a fiancée—and if he was her man, she wouldn’t want him having coffee with anyone but her. “It would probably be easier if I just emailed you the information. I don’t want to take up any of your free time. You’re probably busy getting ready for the fall semester.”

“Nope, I have the rest of the afternoon free. I’ll come find you when your tutoring session wraps up.” The matter decided, Marcel beckoned to someone in the back cubicles. “Zabrina, come over here and meet your tutor for this afternoon.”

A curvy woman with fine features approached.

“Hello, I’m Dominique. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Are you ready to get started?” Once seated, she selected one of the chapter books and turned to the first page. “Now take your time reading the passage. If you come across a word you don’t know then just sound it out.”

“I don’t want to read this,” the woman said, wrinkling her nose. Glancing around, she opened her purse and stealthily pulled out the August issue of Cosmopolitan magazine. It was the annual sex issue, and Dominique knew it well. She’d already read it twice and had plans to read it again.

“I want to be—” she paused, her eyes narrowing in concentration “—how do you say it in English…the sex kitten? Yes, that’s it. Can you help me read the article on page eighty-seven?”

“But Marcel selected these books specifically for you and he—”

“I’m too old to read Here Comes Skipper! These books are for kids, and I’m a woman. A very desirable woman, yes?”

Dominique concealed a grin. “Why don’t you wait here while I go check with Marcel?” The Adult Literacy Program was Marcel’s project, and Dominique wasn’t going to do anything to upset him, and something told her Cosmopolitan magazine’s annual sex issue wasn’t on the approved reading list. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

As she stood, she spotted a striking sister in a bohemian-style dress enter through the sliding-glass doors. She swept into the library with more grace than a queen, and Dominique noticed that everyone cranked their heads in her direction—including Marcel. The mystery woman kissed him on both cheeks and then took the seat beside him.

“Ms. Dominique, are you okay?”

Snapping out of it, she dropped back down into her seat and smiled at Zabrina. “How about we read the article and one chapter of the children’s book? Just don’t tell Marcel.”

Zabrina flipped through the magazine and landed on page nineteen. “The quickest way to a man’s heart isn’t through his stomach. It’s actually further south, so forget what your mother told you and race over to your nearest adult s-p-e-c-i-a-l-t-y store?”

“Specialty,” Dominique corrected, reading the confusion on her face. “It’s a store that carries unique items.”

Nodding, she lifted the magazine until it was right under her nose. “Fill your basket with scented perfumes and massage oils because we’re cooking up a sexual…feast that will arouse your lover’s senses. Whip out the…” She stopped, her forehead rumpling with worry lines. She stared over at Dominique. “I can’t read this.”

“Don’t worry. You’re doing great so far.” To reassure her, she put a hand on her shoulder. “The word is edible. Try sounding it out again.”

Each time Zabrina said the word, an image of Marcel—swimming bare chested in the pool—flashed in her mind. Peeking out from around the cubicle, Dominique snuck a quick look at the handsome program advisor. Was that his fiancée? The woman her sister had told her about? Feeling silly for spying, she settled into her seat and ordered her mind to focus. But a second later, her gaze was drifting back across the room.

How am I supposed to concentrate when this article is making me think about all the naughty things I’d like to do to Marcel?




Chapter 3


“When was the last time you got laid?”

Marcel nearly choked on the water in his mouth. Ignoring the burning sensation in his chest, he turned away and swallowed hard. If not for his quick thinking, he would have spewed water all over his uncle Nigel’s tailored black suit. The First Centennial Trust bank waiting area was not the right venue to discuss his sex life, but if he didn’t answer his uncle’s question, he’d never hear the end of it. “I’m too busy with graduate school to even think—”

“It’s been that long, huh?” Nigel Benoit raised an eyebrow. Hands stretched out across the back of the couch, worry lines wrinkling his dark face, he reminded Marcel of his late father. Hit with sadness, he looked away.

“You need to meet someone new. Sarita isn’t coming back, and furthermore, she wasn’t the right girl for you,” he announced. “Didn’t it ever bother you that she was constantly on her cell phone? I mean, who goes out to dinner and spends the whole night texting her stupid friends? I would have left the table, except her parents were there and I didn’t want to be rude.”

“Uncle Nigel, you’re not being fair.” That was a lie, but he didn’t want his uncle to know that Sarita’s self-centeredness had been the source of many arguments between them. “All that really matters to me is that the woman I’m dating has a great personality and a good heart.”

Nigel snorted. “That’s a load of B.S. What man doesn’t want a hot chick on his arm? I know I do, and so do you. You just haven’t met the right kind of woman yet.” He winked suggestively. “After we wrap up here, I’m taking you to the strip club!”

Marcel checked his watch. “It’s only eleven-thirty in the morning.”

“I know.” His uncle broke into a grin. “Centerfolds opens at noon, so once my meeting’s over, we’re good to go!”

“Forget it, Uncle Nigel. I have a lot to do this afternoon. I need to send out more résumés and track down the job recruiter visiting the university this week.”

“Have you given more thought to what you’re going to do after graduation?”

“I’m hoping to get a full-time position, but if that falls through, I guess I’ll just have to go back home.”

“Your father’s dream was for you to come to the United States and make a successful life for yourself here,” he reminded. “Have you forgotten that you have family depending on you?”

Lowering his head, Marcel rubbed his hands across the side of his jeans. Whenever he thought about his visa situation, he broke out into a sweat. But what more could he do? He’d applied to every engineering company in the city—and even a handful throughout the West Coast. Maybe he was thinking too small. Maybe it was time he expanded his search—made it nationwide. Feeling better about his decision, he continued to listen to his uncle Nigel discuss his newest business venture. “You’re opening a clothing store in New York? Maybe I should forget engineering and come work for you!”

“Just say when. I’d love if you came to…” Eyes wide, he trailed off into silence. He slipped off his designer sunglasses and leaned forward in his chair. “Now that’s the kind of woman you should be searching for. She’s a beauty, and she’s obviously successful, too.”

Raising his head, he followed the path of his uncle’s gaze. Dominique stood behind the counter, pointing at a computer screen, quietly instructing the young, blue-eyed clerk. What was Dominique doing here and looking so authoritative no less? Her yellow blouse added a feminine touch to her sleek business suit. Her deep brown eyes were fringed with dark, curved eyelashes, but what Marcel loved most about Dominique was her hair. It was long, thick and full—perfect to play with and caress. “Her name’s Dominique King.”

His uncle’s jaw dropped. “You know her?”

“Yeah, and she’s a real snob.”

“She has every reason to be. Look at her!” Nigel peeled his eyes away from Dominique and turned to his nephew. “You don’t expect a woman wearing Cartier diamonds to talk to every Joe Blow who approaches her, do you? Marcel, if you want to date a sister of that caliber, you have to come correct.”

To set the record straight, Marcel told Nigel about meeting Dominique at the bachelor party and Sunday’s tutoring session. “We were supposed to have coffee after it wrapped up, but I couldn’t find her.”

“Well, here’s your second chance. Go over and invite her to lunch,” he proposed. “And don’t take her to one of those Asian joints that you like so much. Take her somewhere classy like the Chef’s Quarter.”

“The Chef’s Quarter! The entrées start at fifty dollars.” Before Marcel was finished checking Dominique out, she turned and walked into one of the back offices. “Dating a woman like that will leave me broke, and I have no intention of touching the money in my trust fund, so don’t even suggest it.”

“Tell the maître d’ you’re my nephew, and he’ll give you the best table in the house.” Nigel reached into his pocket and took out his cell phone. “I’ll call and tell the manager to charge everything to my expense account.”

“Uncle, I can’t do that. I don’t have the money to blow on a fancy lunch. Furthermore, I don’t want to misrepresent myself. If a woman doesn’t like me for me, then forget her. There are plenty of fish in the sea, right?”

“You’re right, nephew. There are a lot of women out there but few who look like her. If you’re too proud to accept my offer, then use some of that inheritance money and show Dominique a good time.” He made a point of adding, “Before someone else does.”

“Uncle Nigel, you know I can’t do that. That’s my emergency cash. It’s not for wooing high-maintenance women.” Growing tired of the subject, Marcel lifted a magazine off the table and began flipping through it.

“Smart businessmen operate under one basic rule. Sometimes to make money you have to spend money, and you’ll have to go all out for a woman like Dominique King. Spoil her, charm her, buy her expensive gifts. She’s worth it, Marcel. Trust that I know what I’m talking about.”

Nigel’s cell phone rang, and when he answered it, Marcel sighed. Now he could have some peace and quiet. Summer vacation was over, and it was back to the daily grind, but it wasn’t term papers or exams that filled his thoughts. It was a certain woman with dark, hypnotic eyes.

The deadening routine of his academic life threatened to do him in, but seeing Dominique rejuvenated him. And he wasn’t just attracted to her physical beauty. She had a good head on her shoulders, a witty sense of humor and a sultry voice. It was so thick and so provocative that he could hear it now, falling over him like a sweet morning mist.

“Marcel?”

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around. Standing there, looking like a runway model, was the woman who’d dominated his thoughts for the past week and a half. Wondering how long she’d been calling his name, he smiled broadly and rose to his feet. “We have to stop running into each other like this. The next thing I know you’ll be hiding in the bushes outside of my house!” she joked.

Don’t tempt me, he thought with a wry laugh. “Does Destination Wellness know that you’re moonlighting as a bank teller?”

“You mean a bank supervisor,” she corrected. “I only work at Destination Wellness on the weekends. It’s just a part-time job, you know, something fun to do that gives me a little extra pocket money.”

“I understand. This recession’s kicking everyone’s butt.”

“Tell me about it. Several of my clients lost their homes last week, and we’ve been forced to cut back hours around here. The economy has taken a lot of hits in recent years, and everyone, from the executive director to the small business owner, has been affected.” The compassion he saw in her eyes was real. “I hope things get better soon so we can start spending again. It’s hard not being able to shop at Nordstrom!”

Marcel chuckled. Hearing someone behind him, he turned. Before he could introduce his uncle to Dominique, Nigel clasped her hand and greeted her like a long-lost relative.

“It’s great to finally meet you, Dominique. My nephew’s told me so much about you.”

Eyebrows raised in surprise, she divided her gaze between both men. “Oh, really? I’m curious to know what he had to say.”

Marcel’s tongue felt soft and limp in his mouth. What was his uncle Nigel doing? Trying to make him look desperate? His uncle’s charm was subtle, and he could tell by the expression on Dominique’s face that she was amused.

“He said you were a strong, intelligent woman with a good head on her shoulders.” Nigel smiled widely. “I suggested he take you to the Chef’s Quarter for lunch, but—”

“Uncle Nigel, I’m sure Dominique already has plans,” Marcel interjected.

“No plans,” she confessed. “I’ve been cooped up in my office all morning, and if I don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to lose it!”

The men laughed.

“Then it’s settled,” Nigel said.

“Would you care to join us?” Dominique asked.

“You two go ahead. I have an eleven-thirty appointment, and it’s too late to reschedule.” Straightening his tie, he said, “Do you play tennis by any chance? We’re looking for another player for our mixed doubles game.”

“It’s my favorite sport,” Dominique said with a proud smile. “I’ve been playing since college.”

“That’s great. We’ll set something up in the near future.”

Dominique opened her purse, pulled out her sunglasses and slipped them on.

“All right, you two kids have fun!” Nigel shot his nephew a grin. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Falling in step with the curvaceous bank supervisor, Marcel took a good, long look at her. Dominique really knew what worked for her, and though he wasn’t up on the latest trends, he knew what looked good on women, and she was working the hell out of her designer suit. Enthralled, he tried hard not to stare. She was feminine but projected a powerful, confident air. That was more of a turn-on than her sultry perfume. Something took over his brain when Dominique smiled at him, and as she sashayed past him through the open door, a chill zigzagged down his spine. Lunch was definitely going to be interesting.




Chapter 4


“Are you comfortable?” Marcel watched Dominique shift around on the floor cushion and wondered if he should have taken her somewhere else. The Seoul Kitchen had tacky oriental paintings on the walls, but the entrées were succulent and generous in size. “I can ask our server for another cushion if you’d like.”

“I’ll live.” Wearing a tight smile, she inched closer to the small, wooden table. “It’s too bad the Chef’s Quarter had such a long wait. I was really looking forward to having some lobster.”

“You’ll love the food here,” he promised, opening his menu. “I eat here several times a month, and I have never been disappointed.”

“What do you recommend?”

Marcel was admiring the delicate slope of her collarbone when her words reached his ears. “That depends on what you’re in the mood for. The barbecued short ribs are one of my favorites, but the fried prawns with vegetables are delicious, too.” He knew that she was open and curious, willing to learn and try new things, but he didn’t know how adventurous she was when it came to food. “I just hope you’re not one of those women who eat nothing but salad.”

Dominique smirked. “Does it look like I skip meals?”

Seizing the opportunity to check her out, he leaned sideways, allowing his gaze to creep up and down her chest and hips. Dominique King was a fox, and seeing her womanly curves made his head spin. If he was in the market for a girlfriend, she would be at the top of his list.

“I’m not disciplined enough to follow a strict diet. I like French bread way too much!”

Marcel raised his glass. “Then may this be the first of many lunch dates,” he proposed. “Here’s to good food, great conversation and plenty of wine.”

They clinked glasses.

“Welcome to the Seoul Kitchen. What can I get for you today?”

While the waiter took their orders, Marcel checked out his stunning lunch companion. Dominique’s brown hair enhanced the golden undertones of her skin, and tiny freckles dotted her cheeks. In this day and age, meeting a woman with model-like looks and intelligence was next to impossible, and he felt his attraction to her growing. He loved her presence, her aura and how effortlessly she held his attention. No easy feat, considering how many things he had on the go.

“How long have you lived in Seattle?”

“Five years,” he said, drawing his eyes away from the curve of her mouth. “I got my undergraduate degree at Seattle University and liked the program so much that I decided to stay to complete my doctorate. I was born and raised in Mauritius though, and my family still lives there.”

“I’ve heard of the country before, but I’m embarrassed to say I don’t know where it is.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. Few people do.”

Sucked in by his smile, she inched forward, bent on committing the impending geography lesson to memory. Dominique knew a lot of great-looking men, but she’d never met someone like Marcel Benoit. The intelligent, soft-spoken graduate student was in a class all by himself.

“Mauritius is a tiny island on the African coast, about six hundred miles east of Madagascar,” he explained. “Indian, European and French influences created a remarkable land rich with culture and people who are as complex and diverse as the country itself.”

“It sounds like my kind of place. What do you recommend I do if I ever go there?”

He rested his elbows on the table, his eyes aglow with desire, his body emanating a slow-burning passion. “Let me know when you’re ready to make the trip. I’d love to show you around, and I know the best places to watch the sun rise.”

His voice floated across the table, tickling her ears. He didn’t touch her, but his words evoked lustful thoughts. Determined to withstand the heat, she took a long sip of her drink. Something told Dominique that if she didn’t get a grip she’d wake up tomorrow morning in Marcel’s bed, so she quit making eyes at him. “Do you go back home often?”

“Not as much as I’d like. I went home last year when my father died, and depending on what happens after graduation, I might return to Mauritius permanently.”

At the thought of not seeing him again, she felt a deep ache in her chest. “It must be hard being away from your family. I talk to my sisters every day, and they’re always dropping by my place for one thing or the other. Life would be pretty boring if I didn’t have them around.”

The server returned with a plate of raw meat, turned on the built-in stove in the middle of the table and plunked long strips of seasoned beef and shrimp on it.

Marcel’s stomach rumbled. The scent of the sautéed onions whet his taste buds, but it was Dominique’s sweet smile that incited his sexual hunger. When the waiter departed, Marcel picked up the tongs and added more peppers to the grill. “You have an advanced degree in finance, and a managerial position at First Centennial Trust, so what made you decide to become a masseuse? The economy’s not that bad, is it?”

Marcel loved the sound of her laugh, and when she spoke, he had to remind himself this was nothing more than an innocent lunch date. He had a habit of moving too fast, and his last relationship had been a painful reminder that he had to take his time instead of diving headfirst into love. Furthermore, he had too much going on in his life to get caught up with another high-maintenance woman. A six-figure income and a lavish home were all prerequisites for dating a sister like Dominique, and even if he drained his trust fund and cashed in all of his business investments he wouldn’t be able to afford a woman like her.

“When I was younger I had dreams of owning a day spa, but my dad wouldn’t hear of it. So I went to college, got my business degree and applied at the bank,” she explained. “For fun, I took a massage therapy training course with a friend last year. I like working at the spa, but it’s just a side gig. Trust me, there’s no way I’m ever quitting my day job!”

Seeing the food was ready, Marcel dished rice, vegetables and meat onto Dominique’s plate. He handed it to her, and when their eyes met his heart stalled. Her smile widened, revealing even white teeth, and he found himself wondering what it would feel like to kiss her. “Bon appétit.”

“Everything smells really good,” Dominique noted, draping a napkin over her lap.

“Allow me.” Using chopsticks, Marcel picked up some shrimp and extended his right hand. “Tell me this isn’t the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

She opened her mouth and chewed slowly. “This is delicious. I can’t believe this place is around the corner from the bank and I’ve never even tried it before.”

“I told you you’d like the food here. Want some more?”

Dominique reached for her fork. “Yes, but I think I can feed myself!”

They talked about living in Seattle, and the more Dominique learned about Marcel the more impressed she was. He was a modern-day Renaissance man who possessed a charm so subtle she didn’t notice they were touching until he caressed her elbow.

“How long have you been engaged?” The question flew out of her mouth before she could reel it back in.

Dominique studied his facial features with a critical eye. The muscles around his mouth tightened, giving him away. This wouldn’t be the first time a man had lied to her about his relationship status. They all played the game until they got caught, and Marcel was cold busted.

“I’m not engaged anymore.” After pausing to take a sip of his water, he said, “She was the one who broke things off, but we’d both been unhappy for a while.”

“Is there any chance you’ll get back together?”

He shook his head. “She wasn’t ready to commit, and—”

“And you were?”

“Dominique, I’ll be thirty-six in a few months.”

“Is that old?”

“From where I come from it is.” He chuckled when her eyes widened in surprise. “In Mauritius, most men get married after they finish their military service and start having kids soon after. My siblings are all happily married, and every time I call home my mom asks if I’m engaged yet. In her day, there was no such thing as dating, so she doesn’t understand why it’s taking me so long to find a bride.”

“I’ve never heard of a man being pressured to settle down.”

“Well, believe it. Back home, children are seen as a sign of prosperity, and fathers are treated like royalty in their communities. A man with a nice house or an expensive car isn’t nearly as revered as a man with three or four sons.”

“Do you plan on having a large family?”

“Definitely.” He sat with his fingers intertwined under his chin, watching her. “What about you? Is your family on your case to tie the knot?”

“No. I got divorced last year, and I’m not ready to date again.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened between you and your ex?”

She chewed the food in her mouth, then took a long drink of her wine. “We met, fell in love and married shortly after. Everything was great for the first few months, but then things slowly fell apart. Earl was a struggling musician, content to do the occasional gig, but I wanted more—a lot more. I busted my butt to pay the bills while he partied with his friends and blew money we didn’t have. I finally got tired of supporting him and kicked him out. We were only together for three years, but it’s been a nightmare trying to move on with my life.”

“Do you ever regret your decision?”

“No. I enjoy my life just the way it is, thank you very much.”

“But don’t you want to have children someday?”

“I don’t need a husband to have kids. Hey, if Octomom can do it alone, so can I!”

Marcel didn’t laugh. “Dominique, you’re right. Most single moms do an incredible job raising their children, but a two-parent home is the ideal. In Mauritius, elders often say, ‘a woman living alone isn’t truly living.’”

“That’s sexist,” she said, staring coolly at him. “You’re still single. Do you feel your life is incomplete because you don’t have a wife?”

“Yes.” The strength of his gaze seared her flesh, and when he spoke again, his tone was convincing. “I like hanging out with the guys, but I’m happier when I have a steady girlfriend.”

Shocked by his admission, she fell silent. Reaching for conversation, Dominique said the first thing that came to mind. “This is the first time I’ve ever had Korean food, but it definitely won’t be my last.”

“Did you really mean that, or are you just saying that to make me feel good?”

She flashed a smile. “Marcel, I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”

The waiter returned, and once the dishes were cleared and the bill was paid, Marcel offered to walk her back to work. “I don’t mind,” he said when she protested. “I don’t have classes this afternoon.”

Marcel stepped forward and rested a hand on her lower back. Lust shot through his body like a bolt of fire. Surprise registered on her face, and he knew she felt the electricity that had passed between them, too. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. They stood in the middle of the restaurant, staring intently at each other for several seconds.

“We better get going,” she finally said, breaking eye contact. Between work, her sisters and her position at Destination Wellness, she had no free time. None at all, she told herself stubbornly. And just because she felt a connection to Marcel didn’t mean she had to act on her feelings. “I only have ten minutes left on my lunch break, and I don’t want to be late.”

Dominique’s forearm accidently grazed across his chest, and Marcel felt the flow of blood surge below his belt. Enjoying the feel of her skin against his, he moved closer. Using his free hand to open the door, he led Dominique outside into the humid afternoon.

“So, what do you do when you’re not managing the bank or working at Destination Wellness?”

“I like to hang out with my friends, cook and work up a sweat at my coed spin class.”

“Is that for couples or something?”

“No, it’s for singles. We work out together and then go out for cocktails and appetizers. You should check it out. It’s an awesome workout and a great opportunity to meet people.”

“Now I understand why you’re the most popular masseuse at Destination Wellness,” Marcel said, shooting her a smile. “You’re vivacious, and you have an infectious personality. I can honestly say I don’t remember the last time I had this much fun with someone.”

“Oh stop. I just love to talk!” Dominique laughed. “I monopolized the conversation at lunch, but you’re too much of a gentleman to admit it.”

“You have a strong opinion about everything, and you don’t hold back. That’s refreshing.” He lowered his mouth but didn’t kiss her. “I like being with you very much, Ms. King.”

Her eyes fell across his lips, and a delicious heat flowed through her. She didn’t know if she believed the story about his broken engagement, but she wasn’t going to sweat it. They were just friends, so it didn’t matter if he was telling the truth or not. But when he bent down and pecked her cheek, friendship was the last thing on her mind. For the past nine months, she’d been happily single, dating this guy and the next, but when Marcel touched her, she yearned for his kiss. Stealing herself against the thought, she vowed in her heart never to make the same mistake again. Falling for a man she was insanely attracted to had almost ruined her once, and she wasn’t going to get hurt by another good-looking man who told lies.

“What are you doing next weekend?” he asked, as they continued up the street. “I’m having a few friends over. You should come by.”

“I’ll think about it. I’m behind on paperwork, so I was planning to work that weekend.”

Undeterred, he made another plug for his party. “There’ll be good music, food and more than enough of everything to go around, so invite a few of your friends. The more the merrier.”

“I thought you said your apartment was small?”

He chuckled. “It is, but whenever the word gets out that I’m cooking Creole food my friends come out in droves! The last time I had a get-together, over fifty people showed up.”

“I love Creole food. Why didn’t you mention that part sooner?” she asked, laughing. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it, but put my name down on the guest list just in case. Should I bring anything if I decide to come?”

“Nothing but that pretty smile.”

“Marcel, are you flirting with me?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I am.”

Her laughter sounded sweet. “I like you,” she confessed, staring up at him. “A single girl can never have too many friends, and you’re a really cool guy.”

Marcel’s heart plummeted. Friend? What normal heterosexual man could handle being friends with someone like Dominique King? He was looking for a serious relationship and she loved being single, but that didn’t stop him from wanting her. “Oh, no, I’ve been relegated to the dreaded friend category.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Stopping outside of the bank, she stared up at him.

“Dominique, men and women can’t be friends. Where I come from, the whole purpose of dating it is to find a suitable marriage partner. No guy with a working pulse wants to be just friends with a woman as appealing as you.”

“I have tons of male friends,” she argued, “and none of them are carrying a torch for me.”

“They all must be blind!”

Uncontrollable laughter burst from her mouth. “You’re terrible.”

“And you’re beautiful.” He reached out and gently touched her shoulder. “I know a real nice café up the block. If you’re free tomorrow, I’d love to take you out for breakfast.”

“As friends?” she teased, raising her eyebrows.

“Hell, no!” Marcel chuckled. “I’ll meet you here at 8:00 a.m. How does that sound?”

Shaking her head, she gestured with her thumb over her shoulder. “Wednesdays are always crazy around here. Can we make it Friday morning instead?”

“Deal.” Marcel bent down and kissed her cheek. “I’m looking forward to it.”




Chapter 5


Stuffing the mail into his pocket, Marcel pushed open the door of his two-bedroom apartment and shuffled inside. His shoulders drooped when he rested the plastic grocery bags he carried on the floor. Marcel couldn’t remember ever being this tired and wanted nothing more than a cold drink, a hot meal and the comfort of his king-size bed.

Unbuttoning his sports jacket, he kicked off his shoes and strode into the kitchen. He’d get the groceries later, after he took a much-needed break. Marcel threw open the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water and perched on one of the metal bar stools. Tilting his head back, he took a long, satisfying gulp of his drink.

Sunshine streamed through the balcony doors, drenching the living room with light and warmth. Framed pictures hung above tan sofas, floor lamps were positioned around the room and engineering books lined the metal shelves. His sixth-floor apartment offered a remarkable view of the ocean, and after a stressful day, Marcel liked to sit outside on the balcony and unwind.

Remembering his mail, he tugged the stack of letters out of his back pocket. He saw the return address on a plain brown envelope, and his mouth went dry. U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services had sent him a third letter, which could only mean one thing. His heart thumped loudly in his chest as he ripped open the envelope and began to read.

“Due to the incredibly high volume of applications at this time, we regret to inform you that your visa extension has been denied. If you have any further questions, please contact us at the toll-free number listed under our Washington address.”

Expelling a breath, he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. He missed his family, but he wasn’t ready to leave the States—not until he’d built the life he’d always dreamed of.

Studying the calendar hanging on the wall, he calculated the number of weeks left before the end of the fall semester. Not far from now, he’d either be working at one of the city’s premier engineering firms or packing his bags for Mauritius. The thought of returning home made his head throb. The economic crisis had hit the small fishing island hard, and two of his brothers had recently been laid off. Finding a full-time position here in the States would not only bring him one step closer to achieving his dreams but it would ease his family’s financial burdens as well.

Standing, he returned to the foyer and grabbed the plastic grocery bags. He thought of calling his uncle but decided against it. Another person came to mind—a smart, captivating woman with delicate skin and silky hair, who he’d been unable to stop thinking about for the past two days. Talking to Dominique would help, but he didn’t feel comfortable phoning her. They’d hit it off at lunch, but he didn’t want to unload his problems on her.

Still, thinking about Dominique brought a smile to his lips. He was bummed about his visa situation, but he had another date with the attractive bank manager on Friday, and seeing her was a guaranteed pick-me-up. They shared a powerful sexual chemistry, but he knew being friends was definitely the way to go. Finding an engineering position was his top priority, not putting the moves on a woman he’d just met. But as Marcel shelved the groceries, he couldn’t help but wonder what the provocative beauty was doing tonight and with whom.



“If it isn’t man trouble it’s car trouble,” Dominique grumbled, flinging her keys across her desk. Annoyed, she draped her purple knee-length blazer over the back of her chair and plopped down onto her seat. To create a tranquil atmosphere, she’d decorated her office in warm earth tones, but today, the tan paint and bamboo lights did nothing to soothe her.

After discovering the flat tire on her Range Rover that morning, she’d gone back into the house, changed out of her suit and unearthed her ex-husband’s tool kit. Changing the tire had been a messy job, but she was on the road twenty minutes later and arrived at her morning meeting with five minutes to spare.

Pleased with her performance over the past six months, the executive manager had called on her to explain the policies she’d implemented at her branch to improve client relations. Her presentation had been a success, but she’d left the head office with a migraine headache. From the moment Dominique arrived at First Centennial Trust, there had been one problem after another. If she could just have ten minutes of peace and quiet, she could salvage the rest of the day and finish reviewing the monthly reports that were due tomorrow.

To ensure she wasn’t disturbed, she buzzed her secretary and asked her to hold her phone calls for the next half hour. Signing on to her computer, she typed in her password and accessed her online bank account. While she waited for the page to load, she sipped her double latte coffee. How did someone as smart and conscientious as me end up living paycheck to paycheck? she wondered, staring dubiously at the computer screen. Thanks to Earl’s proclivity for flashy cars and Giorgio Armani suits, she was thousands of dollars in debt.

A heaviness filled Dominique’s heart when she thought about her life with Earl. All of their friends and family thought they were living the good life. But after the bills were paid, there was nothing left. Earl spent money faster than she earned it, and at one point, they’d even been three months behind on their mortgage. Supporting him had sucked the life out of her, and by the time he’d finally gotten his big break, they’d already called it quits. Last she heard, he was in Europe, touring with an eighties jazz band. Dominique didn’t hate him, but every time her credit card statement arrived in the mail, she considered hiring a hit man.

She retained possession of the house after the divorce, but it was an incredible expense for one person. How much longer can I go on like this? she wondered. The stress of her financial situation had caused many sleepless nights, but Dominique was determined to dig herself out of the hole her ex-husband had put her in. That was why she was going to the First Fridays event at the Sheraton. It didn’t matter that she’d been up since 5:00 a.m. or that her legs ached. Networking was the name of the game, and if she could wrangle up five more clients for Destination Wellness, she’d be one step closer to being debt-free.

Noting the required payment due, she transferred the necessary funds from her checking account and waited for the transaction to go through. Right now, all she could afford was to pay the minimum, and at this rate, it would take years to clear the balance. Then there were the delinquent property taxes to think about. If she didn’t have to help her sisters…Dominique deleted the thought from her mind. She was the oldest, and it was up to her to keep the family together. Wasn’t that what her dad had always told her? Even after all these years, she could still hear her father’s voice in her ears. It had a rich, soothing undertone, much like Marcel Benoit’s.

Dominique felt her body flush. Why was she thinking about Marcel? It was true, though. The graduate student had one hell of a voice. It was deep and sensuous and fell across her ears with the same tenderness as a loving caress. She tried not to think about him, but despite herself, she remembered the conversation they’d had at lunch three days earlier. Dominique felt a smile coming on and settled back into her seat.

Her phone rang, startling her. To clear her mind, she expelled a breath and counted to five before picking up the phone. “Hello, Dominique King speaking. How may I be of assistance?”

“Good morning.”

At the sound of Marcel’s voice, she felt flutters in the pit of her stomach. She greeted him warmly, as if unaffected by his dreamy, smooth-as-silk voice. “Hi, Marcel. How are you?”

“Lousy.” He paused before adding, “You stood me up this morning.”

Dominique groaned. “Oh, no! I am so sorry. Our breakfast date completely slipped my mind. I had a flat tire this morning, and it threw off my whole schedule.”

“I understand. I know how slow tow truck operators are,” he said easily. “I once had to wait over two hours for my car to be hauled just a few miles away to my mechanic.”

“I didn’t call a tow truck. I changed the tire myself.”

“You changed your tire?” His tone was thick with disbelief. “You’re pulling my leg, right?”

Used to receiving this reaction from the opposite sex, Dominique reminded him that she was the oldest of three girls. “My dad never wanted any of his daughters to be at the mercy of a man, so he taught us how to fend for ourselves. I can change the oil in my car, assemble any piece of home furniture and whip anybody’s butt at a game of pool!”

His deep chuckles filled the line and alleviated Dominique’s anxiety.

“I wish you would have left a message with the information desk. Then I would have called you as soon as I got in.”

“It never occurred to me.”

“I feel so bad about this,” she confessed, drumming her fingers on her desk. “Are you free this evening? I’m attending the First Fridays event at the Sheraton, but we could meet up for drinks afterward if you’d like.”

“I already have plans.”

“Oh, okay. Do you want to have dinner on Monday?”

Marcel turned her down. “I don’t want you to rearrange your schedule on account of me. I was just calling to make sure you were okay. I got worried when you didn’t show up.”

Disappointed that she wouldn’t be seeing him again, Dominique stared absently out of her office window, wondering if there was anything else she could say to change his mind. “It was very thoughtful of you to call and check up on me,” she said, deeply touched by his concern. “I’m fine though. Forgetting our plans was just an oversight on my part.”

“Well, I better let you go. You’re at work, and I don’t want to hold you up.”

Dominique wasn’t ready to end their conversation, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say. He was reluctant to make plans with her again, and she understood why. Dating a musician had come with its fair share of disappointments, and she’d hate for Marcel to think she was unreliable. He was such a great guy. Intelligent, well-read and seriously hot, he appealed to her in every way and never failed to make her laugh.




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