Mr. Scandalous, page 2
He raised his head and started for the door, but then his eyes landed on the woman in the storefront window, and he froze.
Spellbound, he simply stared.
She was leaning over, placing something in the window and oh, so slightly exposing just a hint of cleavage.
The provocative sight was enough to cause instant sweat to bead on the back of his neck despite the recent drop in late summer temperature.
A burst of wind snatched a red banner from the awning of a nearby building. It sailed down, fluttering in the breeze, until it caught on an updraft just above the storefront window at exactly the same time the woman glanced up.
For a whisper of a second it was a pure Kodak moment. The foxy, heart-faced woman framed by a crimson banner. The effect was mesmerizingly magical and even after the banner twisted and spiraled away into the wind, Alec couldn’t take his eyes off her.
His heart literally skipped a beat, and the unexpected arrhythmia alarmed him. Usually, the only time his pulse skittered was when he bungee-jumped or hang-glided or skydived.
The sun slipped out from behind a cloud, where it had been hiding and glinted off her mass of chestnut curls swept back so fetchingly in a loose ponytail. She wore a long-sleeved turquoise boho peasant blouse. Not exactly high fashion, but it was definitely romantic. His fingers itched to stroke both the tactile material and what lay intriguingly beyond.
He knew the correct terminology for her garment because he had four sisters who had spent their lives telling him about clothes. He owed them a debt of gratitude. The knowledge came in handy in his active dating life. Women were impressed when a cis male could converse intelligently about fashion.
Their gazes met.
And locked.
She possessed the most arrestingly blue eyes he’d ever seen.
Alec swallowed.
Hard.
She glanced away but then a moment later she was back, eyeing him with slow, deliberate intent until he felt as if he were a job applicant on an intense interview.
He couldn’t hustle into the shop quickly enough.
Wind chimes murmured a musical note as he pushed through the door. The rousing scent of cinnamon candles filled the small room and everywhere he looked he saw something seductive.
Peacock feathers and skimpy panties and black leather masks, whips and chains and swatches of sensual fabrics, erotic vibrators and edible body paint.
“May I help you?” she asked.
He jerked his head around and came face-to-face with his dream woman. Her name tag said her name was Eden.
Ah, a woman who crafted erotic gifts named Eden. How appropriate.
She smiled, her full mouth lifting at the corners.
He was aware of a high, humming sexual energy flowing between them like electricity buzzing through wires. Her impact was not the strike of a classic beauty but rather like the welcoming influence of a warm, rich hug. An invisible hug that wrapped around him like an aura—distinct and unmistakably her.
She possessed a certain luster that whispered to something deep inside him. Something primal and patently masculine. Something sweetly taboo.
His heart skipped another beat.
Amazed at his aberrant reaction, Alec had to clear his throat before he could speak. “I need...”
Damn, how could he think when she was staring at him that way?
“Yes?” She raised a quizzical eyebrow.
I need. I need. I need.
What did he need? Frowning, Alec ripped his gaze from her lips and met those long-lashed, sky-blue eyes again. “Um...”
Brilliant, Ramsey, absolutely brilliant.
When was the last time a woman had left him tongue-tied? He searched his memory and couldn’t think of a single time.
“Did you want to order a gift basket?” She lifted a hand to push a tendril of hair from her face, the bracelets at her delicate wrist jangled softly.
“Yes. Yes. That’s it.”
“And what is the occasion?”
“My business partner, who also happens to be my best friend, is getting married in September.”
“You’ll be wanting a honeymoon basket.”
“Yeah.” He nodded.
That’s right, dazzle her with your sparkling conversational skills, you suave devil you.
Irritated with himself, he racked his brain for something else to say. “My sister Sarah got married in April and someone gave her one of your baskets as a gift. She said it made the honeymoon.”
“Yes. The Ramsey-Armstrong wedding. I believe her basket was called Palm Tree Passion. Were you wanting to order something similar for your friend?”
“Wow,” Alec said. “That’s some kind of memory.”
“It’s a Montgomery family trait,” she said. “Although it comes in handy when running a business, vividly remembering everything that happened to you can sometimes be a minus.”
A brief wistfulness moved across her face and Alec experienced a rush of empathy. There were quite a few things in his life he was glad remained fuzzy. Like his father’s fatal heart attack, and the time Alec busted up his leg during a motorcycle race.
Mentally he shook his head, still unable to believe he’d not only survived the crash but had in fact thrived. He’d come so far. From the scrappy kid who got involved in one daredevil stunt after another as a way of dealing with his father’s death to the well-respected social media influencer and author of the New York Times number one bestseller The Sublime Art of Seduction. He had gone from borderline poverty to being rich beyond his wildest dreams, and he owed his success to his uncle Mac and the ability to face his fears head-on and defy them.
“My baskets are each original creations,” Eden said. “Tailor-made for the recipient. Can you tell me a little more about your friend and the person he is marrying.”
“Randy?” Alec grinned. “He’s a hotdogger and a half. A balls-to-the-wall fearless.” His grin disappeared. “But he’s changed since he met Jill.”
“Changed? How so?”
“He’s love-struck. Has this dopey smile on his face. All. The. Freaking. Time. And he doesn’t want to do any of the things he used to do.”
“His priorities have shifted.”
“Yeah,” Alec said, already missing their bachelor high jinks. He was happy for Randy, but he knew things would never be the same between them.
“And what’s Jill like?”
Alec was incredibly aware of exactly how close they were standing. Eden was near enough to touch. He could even feel the air molecules vibrating between them.
“Jill’s nice. Quiet. Not the type I pictured him with though.”
“And what type would that be?”
“Well, Randy is so bold I guess I always imagined him with someone a bit more...” He hesitated.
How to put this so it didn’t sound as if he was dissing Jill. He liked her a lot. She was very sweet. Demure, a little shy and brainy. It was just that he couldn’t figure out why this particular woman?
How had Randy known that, above all the other women in the world, Jill was the one? His buddy had dated women who were more beautiful, more adventuresome, and far more sophisticated.
Why Jill? Why now? How was she different from the rest?
“Yes?” Eden’s smile deepened.
“I pictured him with a colorful, flamboyant woman.”
“From what you tell me, Randy seems pretty flamboyant all on his own.”
“He is.”
“So maybe opposites attract?”
Their gazes met and that same arc of electricity that had called to him on the street surged again with startling clarity. Opposites attract, eh? What about this sudden chemistry between them? They were anything but opposites. A woman who spent her days concocting erotic fantasies had to be just as sexually adventurous as he was.
“Maybe. They’re doing this second virginity thing. Personally, I don’t get it, but Randy claims they’re not having sex until after the wedding to prove their love for each other.” Alec shrugged. “I guess whatever floats their boat.”
“Randy’s newfound celibacy and choice of mates isn’t what’s really bothering you, is it? It’s the simple fact he’s getting married.”
“Bothering me?” Alec stepped back. “Who says I’m bothered about Randy getting married.”
“You’re losing your stag partner.”
“What?” He blinked.
“When Randy got engaged to Jill, you no longer had someone to go carousing with. No strip-club buddy. No one with whom to take potshots at married domesticity. Plus, as his business partner you’re worried that his marriage will affect Randy’s business acumen.”
Taken aback by her insight, Alec stared, open mouthed. How could she know that ever since Randy met Jill he’d felt not only left out but also scared about the future of their business?
It was one thing for two carefree bachelors to run a social media empire called Sex and the Single Guy. It was quite another for one of those bachelors to be shackled in matrimony. Alec was terrified that Randy would forget how to connect with their single-and-loving-it audience and the business would lose its edge in an intensely competitive market space.
And secretly, in the dark recesses of his mind, in a place he mostly refused to acknowledge existed, Alec was jealous.
Not of married life. Oh, no. He’d realized that particular institution wasn’t for him years ago, but of the special closeness Jill and Randy shared. Seeing them together sometimes made him wonder if daredevil sports, hopping from trendy nightclub to trendy nightclub, attending lavish parties, and wining and dining local celebrities was all there was to life.
He hated being forced to examine his lifestyle choices.
What he needed in order to shake off this woefully inappropriate “third wheel” feeling was a good old-fashioned fling with a woman who knew lots of naughty bedroom tricks. Indulging in the thrill of the chase never failed to lift his spirits.
And from the looks of this erotic shop and the seethe of sexual chemistry oozing between them, he suspected Eden was exactly the kind of woman he was looking for. And he was already having wickedly wonderful thoughts about how to please her in bed.
She was asking him more questions about Jill and Randy. What kind of fabrics they liked, their favorite movies, music, foods and activities that inspired them.
But Alec wasn’t listening. All he could think about was kissing her luscious lips.
“I had no idea this process was so involved,” he said, but he was thinking, how can I get you into my bed?
“Oh, yes.” She nodded. “When you buy an Eden Montgomery original you’re getting much more than sex toys in a basket. You’re purchasing a gift of art from the heart as well as a treat for the senses.”
Man, did he ever want to experience her treats firsthand. She was exactly what the doctor ordered. A shot of pure sexual adventure to chase away his “my-best-friend-is-getting-married” blues.
“Sarah did tell me she’d never seen anything quite like your baskets,” Alec said.
“I must warn you, that gift consultation can take as long as an hour to complete.”
“No kidding.”
“I’m a stickler for details, but you can rest assured your friends will appreciate your gift. I guarantee my work. Although, if you prefer, you can go online and fill out the form.”
Alec checked his watch. “No, no. I prefer to do this in person, but if the consultation takes an hour then I can’t do this today. I’ve got an appointment in Midtown in forty-five minutes. Plus I don’t have all the info you need. How about this—I talk to Randy, find out more about Jill’s likes and dislikes.” He reached into a pocket for his business card and passed it over to her. “You drop by my office around one tomorrow afternoon, I’ll buy your lunch, and we can do the consultation then. How does that sound?”
Eden accepted his card and stared down at it. She hesitated a moment and his heart did that idiotic beat-skipping thing again.
She’s going to say no. His spirits plummeted.
What in the hell was the matter with him? He hadn’t been this nervous since his high school prom. Blame his uncharacteristic anxiety on a long dry spell.
Speaking of second virginity, he’d been celibate for the past eight months. Not because he hadn’t had plenty of opportunities, but simply because no one had excited him enough to make time for a grand seduction.
Until now.
She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue then raised her eyes to meet his again. Thump-thump-thump went his ticker.
“Okay,” she said. “Why not?”
Chapter Three
Eden had a date
For the first time in almost a year she had a date. A date with—Eden stared at the card still clutched in her hand—Alec Ramsey.
The little rectangle of stiff paper burned a hole in her palm, but already the powerful rush of creative sexual energy she felt when she was near him was already starting to dissipate. Had she imagined it all?
Come on, it’s not a date, niggled her naysaying voice. It’s a business luncheon.
Before she could argue with herself, Ashley and Mrs. Lockerbie came out of the back room and pounced on her.
“Omigod.” Ashley clutched her hand to her heart. “Was that guy gorgeous or what?”
“Not only gorgeous,” Mrs. Lockerbie said. “But rich and famous, too.”
“Famous?” Eden furrowed her brow.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t recognize him?” Mrs. Lockerbie clicked her tongue.
“That’s because you were too busy drooling,” Ashley said. “Not that I blame you one tiny bit and the sickkk thing is, he seemed just as taken with you.”
“He doesn’t.”
“Oh, but he does.” Ashley nodded.
“How do you know?”
“We were peeping around the curtain.” Jayne giggled and waved at the toile print curtain that divided the back room from the main part of the store.
“His card just gives his name, business address and cell number. Don’t, leave me hanging in suspense, Jayne. Who is Alec Ramsey?” Eden asked.
Jayne’s smile was wicked. “Why, darling, that perfect specimen of manhood is none other than a social media influencer with two million followers on his platform Sex and the Single Guy and the bestselling author of The Sublime Art of Seduction and he is currently the most eligible bachelor in Manhattan.”
“You know him personally?” Eden asked.
“Last year we served on the board of the Kids Count charity together. He’s big into helping underprivileged youths and he really means what he says. He’s not just some rich guy throwing money around to boost his public image.”
“I would never have guessed it.” He looked so sophisticated and polished Eden had a challenging time imagining him enriching the lives of disadvantaged children.
“Alec lost his own father when he was in his teens, a heart attack I think, and it had a lasting impact on him. He doesn’t take anything for granted. That’s why he works so hard. I think his earnestness just adds to his sex appeal.”
“I’m meeting him for lunch tomorrow.”
“Get outta here!” Ashley gave her a playful shove. “You go, woman.”
“To discuss a gift basket consultation. It’s just business.”
“The way you’re grinning seems like it’s much more than just business.” Jayne wagged a knowing finger.
“Okay,” Eden confessed, her grin spreading as giddiness flitted through her. “It could be more than business. We’ll see.”
“This totally rocks!” Ashley did a little dance. “Now maybe you’ll have hot sex and get your groove back.”
“Hey, hey, don’t go jumping to conclusions. I’m simply meeting him for lunch.”
Now that Ashley had expressed out loud the thoughts revolving in her head, Eden’s prudent side kicked in and a panicky fear gripped her.
She wasn’t like her freewheeling, irresponsible mother. She could not have a wild affair with a stranger even if he had jumped-started her libido and her imagination with a single rakish grin.
The fact that she was even considering such a thing tempted her to text him and break the date. He could fill out the form online. No need for a face-to-face.
Ah, now there was the rub. She had been listening to her naysaying, fussbudget voice for far too long. Playing it safe hadn’t gotten her anywhere. It was way past time she took a risk, moved from her comfort zone and stepped out of the box.
“Lunch could turn into a little something-something.” Ashley nudged Eden in the ribs with her elbow her.
“But I don’t know anything about this guy.”
“I do,” Jayne said, raising a hand. “He’s rumored to be an excellent lover.”
“You guys!” Eden rolled her eyes. “You’re putting the cart way before the horse.”
“And you’re just scared to take a chance.” Ashley made clucking noises and flapped her arms like a chicken. “Admit it. “
“Okay, guilty as charged. I’m scared spit-less.”
“What are you so afraid of?” Jayne asked.
“Oh, no!” Ashley dramatically clutched her head in her hands and moaned. “Now you’ve gone and done it.”
“Done what?” Jayne glanced from Ashley to Eden.
“You’ve given an ‘in’ to her worst-case scenario voice.”
“Her what?”
Eden glared at Ashley. “Thanks a lot.”
“Go ahead,” Ashley said. “Show Jayne how neurotic you can get.”
“It’s not neurotic to project future complications based on current information.” Eden pursed her bottom lip. “It’s merely prudent.”
“Let’s do it then.” Ashley sank her hands on her hips.
“All right,” she said, deciding to play the game her impertinent assistant had invented in defense against Eden’s worrywart tendency. She had to confess that the game often worked to quell her fears when little else did. She squared off with Ashley toe-to-toe. “What if he has bad breath?”
“Then give him an Altoid.”
“What if he’s a rotten kisser?”
“You teach him exactly how you prefer to be kissed.”
