little money down.” Jerard tapped a finger on the cocktail napkin in front of him. “I like horses.” Yeah, right. Horses .
“Ace. I might be able to help with that.”
Jerard slid the cocktail napkin along the bar. The man downed his drink as a hand disappeared into his jacket. He dropped a twenty onto the bar, picked up the napkin and the money underneath, then disappeared into the shadows.
Jerard sipped his drink. After a few minutes, the man returned and spoke to the bartender. When he stepped away again, a cigarette box lay on the bar. For a fleeting second, Jerard thought about leaving it. Instead he picked it up, gave it a little shake and enjoyed the calm of feeling the small bottle moving inside.
He stood to leave the club, but he wasn’t headed into the sunshine.
7
You Ain’t Never Met A Man Like Me
One mistake.
He made one mistake. Let himself get seduced into the fantasy of the sexy novice who dropped into his life, but he didn’t act on it and it wasn’t too late to change course. This thing with Isabella wasn’t going to happen. He would take her to the party and then send her home.
Last night was...well, he didn’t really know what the hell that was. Isabella fell asleep. Even after their conversation, she was comfortable enough to fall asleep with him sitting on the bed next to her rubbing her back. She hadn’t lied when she said she trusted him and that blew him away.
That and the vision of her half-naked body lazing across his bed. The curve of her full breasts peeking out from under her ribs was an exquisite tease and when she rolled to her side, the vibrant reality of her figure burned into his mind indelibly.
One of the keys to mastering a woman was making her feel confident enough to be at ease in front of him. It usually took weeks, maybe even months, to undo the societal head trip that inhibited most women. Sometimes even he failed. He knew exposing her body to a man was not her norm, but Isabella was at ease with him in what? Less than twenty-four hours. Trust and confidence like that was a powerful aphrodisiac.
He spent half the night watching her sleep instead of sleeping himself. Even when he turned off the light, he lay in the dark breathing her in and suffering. He wanted to roll over and sink into the oasis next to him. Wanted it so badly, it hurt.
But with sunlight came reason. He wasn’t right for someone like her. And she certainly was not right for someone like him.
Jacques stormed down the hallway, all business with an assistant on each elbow, alternately chattering on a cell phone or hurling questions at him. Politely, of course.
“Sir, the caterer needs approval to substitute...”
“Sir, the final seating chart is waiting for your review.”
“Sir, the auctioneer needs your decision on...”
His schedule was absolutely jammed today, just like every other, and he didn’t have time for Isabella. He would just go into the room, wake her up and leave.
“Sir, we have to be at the Casino in thirty minutes.”
“Sir, I need a signature in the office before we go.”
“Sir, I need...”
“Stop. Wait here,” he said to his overeager helpers.
He twisted the nob. As soon as Isabella's lovely scent hit his nostrils, he inhaled her again. Closing the door, he leaned against it and breathed deeply. The room was quiet and still. So peaceful. So far away from the demands on the other side of the door. Isabella was curled up on his bed like a kitten, wearing his shirt.
She looks so pretty wearing my clothes. Before the vision of his hand slipping beneath that shirt became any more real, he stopped himself . No. No. No. No playing with your new toy today .
Wait, she wasn’t his toy. She wasn’t going to be his toy. He was taking her to the party and that was it. Jacques shook his head to snap himself back into the plan.
What is it about this woman with her beautiful body and her beautiful spirit and her beautiful round bottom peeking out from beneath
“Ace. I might be able to help with that.”
Jerard slid the cocktail napkin along the bar. The man downed his drink as a hand disappeared into his jacket. He dropped a twenty onto the bar, picked up the napkin and the money underneath, then disappeared into the shadows.
Jerard sipped his drink. After a few minutes, the man returned and spoke to the bartender. When he stepped away again, a cigarette box lay on the bar. For a fleeting second, Jerard thought about leaving it. Instead he picked it up, gave it a little shake and enjoyed the calm of feeling the small bottle moving inside.
He stood to leave the club, but he wasn’t headed into the sunshine.
7
You Ain’t Never Met A Man Like Me
One mistake.
He made one mistake. Let himself get seduced into the fantasy of the sexy novice who dropped into his life, but he didn’t act on it and it wasn’t too late to change course. This thing with Isabella wasn’t going to happen. He would take her to the party and then send her home.
Last night was...well, he didn’t really know what the hell that was. Isabella fell asleep. Even after their conversation, she was comfortable enough to fall asleep with him sitting on the bed next to her rubbing her back. She hadn’t lied when she said she trusted him and that blew him away.
That and the vision of her half-naked body lazing across his bed. The curve of her full breasts peeking out from under her ribs was an exquisite tease and when she rolled to her side, the vibrant reality of her figure burned into his mind indelibly.
One of the keys to mastering a woman was making her feel confident enough to be at ease in front of him. It usually took weeks, maybe even months, to undo the societal head trip that inhibited most women. Sometimes even he failed. He knew exposing her body to a man was not her norm, but Isabella was at ease with him in what? Less than twenty-four hours. Trust and confidence like that was a powerful aphrodisiac.
He spent half the night watching her sleep instead of sleeping himself. Even when he turned off the light, he lay in the dark breathing her in and suffering. He wanted to roll over and sink into the oasis next to him. Wanted it so badly, it hurt.
But with sunlight came reason. He wasn’t right for someone like her. And she certainly was not right for someone like him.
Jacques stormed down the hallway, all business with an assistant on each elbow, alternately chattering on a cell phone or hurling questions at him. Politely, of course.
“Sir, the caterer needs approval to substitute...”
“Sir, the final seating chart is waiting for your review.”
“Sir, the auctioneer needs your decision on...”
His schedule was absolutely jammed today, just like every other, and he didn’t have time for Isabella. He would just go into the room, wake her up and leave.
“Sir, we have to be at the Casino in thirty minutes.”
“Sir, I need a signature in the office before we go.”
“Sir, I need...”
“Stop. Wait here,” he said to his overeager helpers.
He twisted the nob. As soon as Isabella's lovely scent hit his nostrils, he inhaled her again. Closing the door, he leaned against it and breathed deeply. The room was quiet and still. So peaceful. So far away from the demands on the other side of the door. Isabella was curled up on his bed like a kitten, wearing his shirt.
She looks so pretty wearing my clothes. Before the vision of his hand slipping beneath that shirt became any more real, he stopped himself . No. No. No. No playing with your new toy today .
Wait, she wasn’t his toy. She wasn’t going to be his toy. He was taking her to the party and that was it. Jacques shook his head to snap himself back into the plan.
What is it about this woman with her beautiful body and her beautiful spirit and her beautiful round bottom peeking out from beneath
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