Tessa awoke feeling more tired than she had before retiring for bed. Again she’d spent the night tossing and turning, erotic dreams assaulting her mind and body relentlessly. Each time she managed to go back to sleep she was jolted awake again, her body awash with perspiration and an intense pulsing between her thighs that threatened to make her scream aloud. Realizing that sleeping throughout the night was futile, she’d left her bed and showered three hours before dawn.
By eleven that morning she’d called to reserve a tent for a neighbor who was throwing a surprise birthday party for her husband’s thirty-seventh birthday. Even though it wasn’t a milestone birthday, the event would be significant because he’d been given a clean bill of health once he’d completed his chemotherapy treatment. The heated tent would be erected in the backyard of their brownstone, and the invited guests would share a six-course sit-down gourmet dinner under artificial lights and candles. Tessa had called one of her favorite DJ’s to provide the music for what promised to be a momentous celebration.
A delivery of fresh flowers arrived from Simone’s greenhouse, the bouquet of red, orange and dark pink orchids and roses adding warmth and color to the foyer. The doorbell rang again, and this time the mail carrier handed her a stack of envelopes and a certified letter. Sorting through the envelopes, she breathed a sigh of relief. If she’d gotten her invitation to Bridget and Seth’s wedding, then there was no doubt those on the guest list had received theirs. After a hastily eaten lunch she retreated to the third floor and lost herself in sewing.
One day blended into the next, and Friday morning Micah called to remind her that he would pick her up later that evening to take her to the dinner-dance. She’d already selected an outfit for the affair and made appointments with her hairstylist and nail technician.
* * *
Micah didn’t know what to expect when Tessa opened the door to his ring; he stood motionless, staring at her hair falling above her bared shoulders. The curls were missing, and in their place was a shiny mane of red-streaked waves. His gaze moved lower to a fitted strapless black dress that ended inches above her knees and lower still to her slender, shapely legs encased in sheer black nylon. A pair of matching silk-covered stilettos put the top of her head at his nose. Reversing itself, his gaze lingered on a swell of brown flesh rising and falling above the dress’s revealing pleated bodice whenever she inhaled.
Without warning—and shockingly—the flesh between his thighs hardened instantaneously, as if he were experiencing the stirring of physical desire for the first time. He stood motionless, stunned at the rush of passion that made it impossible for him to move, talk.
“I don’t believe it,” Micah whispered when he found his voice.
Taking a step, Tessa moved closer until her breasts touched the crisp front of his white shirt. “What don’t you believe?” Her query was a whisper.
He ran a hand through the heavy waves gracing the nape of her neck. “You are absolutely, amazingly and incredibly beautiful.” Pulling her flush against his body, he trailed soft kisses along the column of her neck and permitted her to feel his surging hardness. “I’ve just changed my mind.”
Vertical lines appeared between Tessa’s eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“Let’s stay home tonight.”
“You’re kidding, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not.”
Tessa’s lashes fluttered as she struggled to understand the enigmatic man holding her to his heart. She’d endured the heat from a blow-dryer when she’d had her curly hair blown out—something she rarely did. And she’d chosen a pair of four-inch stilettos—a height she seldom wore—because of Micah’s towering height.
Resting her hands on her hips, she smiled up at him. “We stay home and do what?”
Micah tightened his hold on her waist. “We’ll have our own tea party,” he drawled deadpan in a very proper British accent.
Her hands went to the lapels of his exquisitely tailored dark blue suit. “We can’t make love for at least another three days.”
A slight frown creased his smooth forehead. He wanted to shake Tessa. Did she not know? When would she realize that what he felt—what they shared—wasn’t all about sleeping together?
“It’s not about sex, Tessa. That’s something I can get from any woman.” One of her eyebrows lifted with his disclosure. “I’d want to be with you even if we didn’t sleep together.”
She flashed an attractive moue, drawing his gaze to the vermilion color on her mouth. “Perhaps I should put you to the test. If I don’t give you any, then we’ll see how long you’ll hang out with me.”
His fingers looped around the nape of her neck. “I’m not going to lie and say I don’t enjoy making love with you, but if you choose not to give me any then that doesn’t mean that I’ll want to stop seeing you.” Lowering his head, he brushed his mouth over hers, careful not to smear her lipstick. “What do you say we have our own private party after we leave the fund-raiser?”
She smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”
“Why don’t you go upstairs and pack an overnight bag. We’ll hang out at my place tonight.”
Disengaging herself from his comforting embrace, Tessa made her way up the staircase, feeling the heat of Micah’s gaze on her back. What she didn’t tell him was that she’d looked forward to going to the dinner-dance, that she wanted to spend time with him. She’d taken him to The Bijoux because she’d wanted to share a quiet, intimate dinner; however, that was thwarted when Simone and Tony joined them. Micah Sanborn seemed so sure of himself and his rightful place in the world. But what he didn’t know was that as charming as he was, she had no intention of permitting herself to fall under his intoxicatingly virile spell.
* * *
Tessa stood in the middle of the ballroom of an opulent catering establishment that overlooked Flushing Meadows Park. She smiled and mouthed the appropriate responses whenever Micah introduced her to politicians and law-enforcement officials. Prisms of light from chandeliers competed with the sparkle of precious baubles in earlobes, around necks and wrists of the beautifully attired women in attendance who clung possessively to the arms of their dark-suited escorts. She gave Micah a surreptitious glance as he chatted comfortably with the police commissioner, who chastised him about retiring before reaching his potential with the NYPD.
The commissioner gave her a friendly smile. “Your boyfriend scored at the top of the captain’s test but retired before he was to be promoted. Our loss is the Brooklyn D.A.’s gain, but what’s encouraging is that we’re still on the same side.”
Micah lost count of the number of people who’d told him that he’d made a mistake to leave the NYPD. As soon as he received notification that he’d passed the bar on his first attempt he’d put in for retirement.
Lowering his head, he met Tessa’s amused gaze. She’d come to the fund-raiser as his date, but it was apparent that those who knew him believed they were a couple. They’d seen him over the years with other women, but their reaction had always been indifference. What, he mused, was there about Tessa, other than her beauty and intelligence, that had them believing she was that special?
But what Micah had to admit was that Tessa was special—special in every way he could’ve imagined a woman to be. And he hadn’t lied to her when he’d told her that he’d changed his mind about taking her out, preferring instead to remain at home. As a retired police officer and past vice president of 100 Blacks in Law Enforcement Who Care, his appearance at this event was merely symbolic. The greetings and introductions continued until he steered Tessa to their reserved table before he made his way to an open bar.
* * *
Introductions, speeches and an invocation from a police department chaplain, sumptuous dinner selections of prime rib, roast chicken and tender, grilled flaky salmon with the accompanying steamed vegetables preceded a live band playing upbeat Latin rhythms that had everyone up on their feet. Micah found himself cornered by several community leaders while Tessa danced nonstop. He half listened to the conversations going on around him as he managed to keep his date within his line of vision as she was spun around and dipped, her hips swaying seductively to the pulsating music.
He experienced an emotion so foreign that it squeezed his heart for several seconds before permitting him to draw a normal breath. Jealousy! It should’ve been him dancing with Tessa. He should’ve been the one holding her to his chest, pressing his mouth to her ear, whispering what he was feeling and what he wanted to do with her. The seething escalated, burning his mind and his chest, and for the first time in his life Micah Sanborn felt as if he were losing control. Why, he mused as he stared at Tessa smiling up at her dancing partner, did he feel like punching the cheesy-grinning man who held her a tad too close for social respectability?
Resting a hand on the shoulder of an assistant deputy warden from the Department of Corrections, he forced a polite smile. “Please excuse me, Qadir, but I have to take care of something.”
“Is that something you’re talking about wearing a black dress and dancing with one of my captains?”
Micah froze. “Is it that obvious?”
Qadir Sherman smiled. “You haven’t taken your eyes off her. Go get your woman before some vulture swoops down and carries her off.”
“Never happen,” he countered confidently as he turned on his heels and headed toward his date. He tapped the man on his shoulder before clamping a hand around his neck. “Excuse me, my man, but I need my girlfriend.” His tone was soft, yet his words were edged with steel. He gave Tessa a smile that was as intimate as a kiss. “Are you ready to leave, darling?”
A slight frown touched Tessa’s smooth forehead before fading quickly. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d danced so much. “You’re right, darling. It is time we leave.”
Micah’s expression was a mask of stone as he retrieved Tessa’s fur shawl, then instructed her to wait until he brought the car around. Minutes later, he started up the engine and shifted into gear.
“What’s with you allowing that clown to slow-grind with you?”
Her delicate jaw dropped. “Is that what this is all about? You’re jealous because some man was dancing with me?”
“He was bumping and grinding with you, Tessa.”
Tessa didn’t know whether to laugh or scream at Micah for behaving like a mistrustful junior high school boy. She sucked her teeth. “For your information, he wasn’t grinding with me. In fact, our bodies weren’t even touching.”
“It didn’t look that way to me.”
“You saw what you wanted to see.” She rested her left hand on his right over the gearshift. “If we’re going to continue seeing each other, then you’re going to have to learn to trust me. If not, then we should end what we have right now—tonight.”
There came a long pause. “I don’t want what we have to end,” Micah said in a hushed tone.
“Then you must trust me,” Tessa countered.
“I do trust you,” he insisted.
“No, you don’t, Micah. If you did, then we’d still be at the dinner-dance and I’d be dancing with you.”
A hint of a smile found itself through his expression of uncertainty. “I’ll make it up to you, darling, once we get to my place.” He stopped for a red light, angled his head and nuzzled the side of her neck.
Tessa giggled like a little girl. “You’re using that word rather glibly.”
“What word?”
“Darling.”
The light changed and Micah shifted into gear and sped off. “Darling, dear, sweetheart or dearest. They’re all the same.”
She stared out the windshield. Micah calling her “darling” meant absolutely nothing to him, while if he were any other man, it would’ve signified a deeper, more meaningful emotion. Tessa had to ask herself if she wanted more from him. Did she want him to love her? Could she afford to fall in love with him? The questions nagged at her as she settled back to enjoy the ride and the comforting presence of the man beside her.
* * *
“You like living in the woods, don’t you?”
Micah gave Tessa a quick glance. “Staten Island isn’t the woods,” he countered, maneuvering into the enclave with sprawling single-family dwellings claiming two-and three-car garages.
“How did you find this place?”
“It found me.”
“Explain, Micah.”
“I bought a two-bedroom condo in the Bronx overlooking the Throgs Neck Bridge a couple of years ago. When Bridget starting complaining about the amount of time it took for her to commute between Franklin Lakes and Manhattan, I told her that she could stay at my place several nights a week. It worked out well until she met Seth.”
“Did he move in?” Tessa asked.
“No. But there were times when he spent more nights with Bridget than at his own place. I didn’t mind the weekdays because I was up and out early and there were times when I didn’t come home until after they’d gone to bed. It was the weekends that bothered me, because after dealing with BS all week I wanted to kick back and relax without bumping into my sister or future brother-in-law, their friends and colleagues.
“I didn’t want to tell Bridget to leave, so I left. I heard through the station grapevine that the grandmother of a cop who’d lost his life on 9/11 was looking for someone to rent a room in her house, so I took her up on her offer. Living in Staten Island works out well for me because I’m closer to Brooklyn than I’d be living in the Bronx.”
“Does Bridget like living in the Bronx?”
“She and Seth love the location and the views of the water and bridge. That was the reason I bought the place.”
“Are you going to move back after Bridget’s married?”
Reaching up, Micah pressed a button on one of the devices attached to his car’s visor. The door to a three-car garage lifted silently. “No. She and Seth have offered to buy it from me.”
“Where are you going to live?”
“I’m thinking of buying a house around here. Don’t move,” he ordered in a soft tone.
He parked beside the tarpaulin-covered race car that had belonged to his landlady’s late grandson, got out and came around the car to assist Tessa. He retrieved her overnight calfskin bag from the space behind her seat. One second she was standing before he swept her up in his arms and headed for the steps that led up to his apartment.
Tessa pounded his shoulder. “Put me down, Micah.”
“Hush, darling. You’re going to wake up the neighborhood.”
With eyes wide, she clamped a hand over her mouth. “I can walk,” she said between her fingers.
Punching in a code on a keypad beside the door, Micah waited for the light to change from red to green. “I know you can walk, Miss Whitfield. In fact, I watched you execute some very fancy footwork tonight.”
She sucked her teeth. “Don’t tell me you’re back to that. The band was incredible, and it’s been a while since I’d had the opportunity to dance mambo and merengue, so there was no way I was going to sit out dancing while you were running your mouth.”
“I was networking, Tessa.”
She rolled her eyes again as he pushed open the door. “Is that what you call it? Well, I was also networking, because I managed to exchange business cards with the bandleader.”
“Damn, Tessa, are you ever not working?”
“Not when an opportunity presents itself. Remember, I’m coordinating a quinceañera. I need a versatile band that can play mambo, merengue and hopefully flamenco and mariachi.”
Bending slightly, Micah set Tessa on her feet. He turned on the lamp on the table behind the sleeper sofa, and the soft golden glow warmed the space. He’d complained to Tessa that his studio apartment was small but only when compared to his Bronx condo. There he had enough room to move around comfortably even after Bridget had moved in with him. What he couldn’t abide were the hordes who invaded his home on the weekends. There was no doubt his sister and brother-in-law would do a lot of entertaining.
Tessa stood in the doorway, a slow smile parting her lips. “I love it.”
Micah shook his head in amazement. “You like it?”
She took several steps and stood in the middle of what was Micah’s living room. His studio apartment, constructed above the garage, was more spacious than he’d proposed it to be. A utility kitchen with Formica countertops, a two-burner stove, stainless-steel sink, portable refrigerator and oak cabinets took up one wall. An alcove held a bistro table and chairs. The living area claimed a leather sofa and a table spanning its width. Books and magazines were stacked on a leather-covered bench positioned under a trio of casement windows. An oak armoire shared another wall with a racing bike attached to a rack.
Her smile was dazzling. “It’s charming, Micah. It’s the perfect bachelor hideaway, except that it’s much neater than I’d thought it would be.” Every item was in its own place and there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere.
Moving behind her, Micah removed Tessa’s shawl and tossed it onto the sofa. Looping both arms around her middle, he pulled her back against his body and nuzzled the side of her neck. “That sounds like a sexist remark, Miss Whitfield.”
Tessa tilted her chin, resting the back of her head against Micah’s shoulder. “It is,” she crooned. “Most of the men I’ve known use the floor as their hamper and forget about dirty dishes in the sink.”
“A laundry service and paper plates are on my must-have list.”
“I don’t eat off paper plates, Micah Sanborn.”
“Snob,” he drawled.
“Hell, yeah,” she countered. “My aversion to paper products began many years ago, when the paper plate I was carrying gave way and the front of my white shorts was splattered with barbecue sauce. And, of course, the boy whom I had the biggest crush on thought that I had my you know what and…” Her words trailed off when Micah’s low, sensual laugh resonated close to her ear.
“How old were you?”
“Thirteen.”
“Was he your first crush?”
“Yes. I was okay until he started pointing and laughing. Then I lost it. I ran into the house and refused to come out for the rest of the day. And that’s when I realized there was a very thin line between love and hate. I managed to get my revenge when he asked me to the senior prom and I turned him down, then asked his best friend.”
“Ouch! Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
Turning in his loose embrace, Tessa smiled up at Micah, her gaze moving slowly over his distinctive features. Meticulously groomed, he was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome.
“You don’t have to worry about getting on my bad side because I don’t like conflict. In fact, I avoid it at all costs.”
He smiled, displaying his perfectly aligned teeth. “That’s good because I don’t make a practice to get into it with women.”
“What about men?”
“That’s different because at least we have a level playing field.”
She went completely still for several seconds. “Don’t tell me you like brawling?”
“Look, baby, why are we standing here talking about arguing and fighting when we’re supposed to be partying?”
“Why are you changing the subject?”
He traced the outline of her jaw with a finger. “Because I’d rather do this than talk,” he whispered seconds before his mouth covered hers in an explosive kiss that sucked the oxygen from her lungs.
Rising on tiptoe, Tessa wound her arms around Micah’s neck and leaned into the kiss as if she were holding on to a lifeline. She wanted him! She wanted him so much that she ached, but she knew it would be at least another two, maybe three days before she felt comfortable making love.
Micah had sparked a need, a thirst that only he could assuage. Her physical need was akin to an addiction she never wanted to get enough of or slake. Why him and not some other man? she’d asked herself. How and why had she felt no shame when she lay with him, a man who was still a stranger? It was as if she’d stepped outside of herself whenever they came together, and she hadn’t recognized the woman she’d become at that time.
Pulling back to catch her breath, Tessa stared at his throat. “I need to change into something more comfortable.”
His fingers tightened around her upper arms. “Not yet, baby.” Micah picked up a remote device from the bistro table, pushing a button. Within seconds the soft sounds of music filled the space from concealed speakers. “You owe me at least three dances.”
“Fast or slow?” she teased.
“Slow, of course,” he whispered in her ear.
Tessa lost herself in the sensual mood created by the sexy man holding her so close she felt the contours of his body molding to the curves of hers. Their dancing together was akin to foreplay, where they communicated silently emotions neither would’ve openly verbalized.
I’m falling in love with him. The realization shook her to the core. Closing her eyes tightly, Tessa tried eradicating the thought as one would erase a chalkboard, but it lingered because everything she thought she wanted in a man she found in Micah Sanborn. He was mature, intelligent, well-groomed and mannered. To say he was the total package was an understatement.
She’d thought herself in love with Bryce, but once she ended their liaison she realized she’d agreed to see him because his busy schedule had permitted her time to grow her business. Now her bridal and event-planning business was synonymous with elegance and professionalism, so she felt herself ready for a long-term serious relationship. And who better to share it with than Micah? He wasn’t looking for marriage and neither was she.
A secret smile parted her lips as she exhaled.
* * *
“Go home, Micah,” Tessa ordered softly, pushing him toward the door. “Tomorrow is a workday and you’re going to have to get up early.”
Closing the distance between them, Micah pressed Tessa’s back against a wall, his gaze lingering on her hair. The curls were back. They’d shared several showers, and when he’d held her head under the flowing water to kiss her, the heat and moisture had tightened the waves the stylist had so painstakingly blown out. “What if I play hooky tomorrow and spend the day with you?”
“You can’t!”
It was her turn to host the bimonthly Monday-night get-together for her sister and her cousin. She’d admitted to Faith that she had slept with Micah, and Simone had to know there was something more between them than just a business connection, but what Tessa didn’t want was for the focus of their meeting to revolve around her relationship with Micah.
Lowering his head, Micah kissed her forehead. “Don’t panic, darling. I can’t take off even if I wanted to. I’m scheduled to drive up to Albany for a meeting that will probably last all day.” He angled his head and brushed a light kiss over her mouth. “I’ll call you in a few days. Don’t forget—I’m taking you out for dinner and a movie Friday night.”
“I’ll put it in my planner. And don’t you forget that I’m taking you to the opera at Lincoln Center the day after Thanksgiving.”
He rolled his eyes upward. “And if I forget, then I’m certain you’ll remind me.”
She smiled. “You’ve got that right.” Reaching up, Tessa rested her hand along the side of his stubbly jaw. “Drive safely.”
Turning his face, he kissed her palm. “I will. Good night, darling.”
“Good night, Micah.”
The door opened and then closed. Tessa sighed again as she set the alarm and prepared to go to bed. She had to get up early, clean her house, then decide what she wanted to prepare for Faith and Simone.
The past three days had become a blur. She’d spent Friday night with Micah, who’d greeted her Saturday morning with breakfast in bed. He’d driven her back to Brooklyn, where she’d picked up her vehicle for a drive to Manhattan to meet with an Argentinian diplomat to plan his daughter’s quinceañera. The girl’s parents had set aside a budget of twenty thousand dollars for a tradition that dated back to the 1500s. It would be another ten months before the girl celebrated her fifteenth birthday, but the event normally took a full year of planning.
She’d called Micah to let him know she was on her way back to Brooklyn, and he’d been waiting for her when she drove up. Switching vehicles, leaving his in her space at a nearby indoor garage, they’d returned to Staten Island in her Highlander. Sunday morning, instead of breakfast in bed, he’d taken her to a local diner that offered grits with shrimps served up in a savory cream.
A steadily falling rain had preempted the Sanborns from playing football. Tessa had been introduced to Seth Cohen and been completely charmed by the young man who’d won Bridget Sanborn’s love. A mop of dark curly hair and flashing chocolate-brown eyes and an outgoing manner were the perfect foil for the mathematical genius who was purported to calculate complicated equations in his head.
Bridget had changed her mind again when she’d finally selected an oyster-white satin strapless ball gown with a trapunto-stitched crisscross belt with an opulent cascading train. She’d also decided on a rectangular-shaped sheer tulle cathedral-length veil. Tessa had set up an appointment with the bride to bring her maid of honor for a fitting for a gown in a similar style but in black satin. Rosalind had purchased her mother-of-the-bride ensemble: a black silk organza A-line skirt with a white obi sash, a white Mandarin blouse and a jacket with black silk frogs.
The three women had gone over the seating arrangements, involving Seth only when necessary. He had to be literally forced from the media room for input as to where he wanted his relatives seated. His “whatever Bridget wants” had become his mantra whenever he was asked a question.
When Tessa had finally sat down to dinner with the Sanborns she’d felt as if she were on a roller coaster with the various conversations going on at the same time. More than half the responses to the invitations had come in, everyone indicating they would attend. Gifts had also begun arriving, and Rosalind had set aside space in her sun parlor for the gaily wrapped packages.
She’d fallen asleep during the ride from New Jersey to Brooklyn, waking up when Micah shook her gently to let her know she was home. She’d spent three incredible days with a man, two in which they’d slept and showered together, and not once had he attempted to make love to her.
Walking into her bedroom, Tessa flopped down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. She’d fallen hopelessly and inexorably in love with a man who was her client’s brother.
And what she felt for him had nothing to with sex.
It was about trust.