Brooke Simons had spared no expense for the Halloween party in her loft. Someone was on hand to check coats, and a waitstaff circulated among the guests offering hot and cold hors d’oeuvres. A bar, set up against a wall, was doing a brisk business, while a DJ played nonstop music that had most up on their feet dancing. Only a few partygoers had chosen to come in costume.
Nayo, her arm wrapped around Ivan’s waist, introduced him to their hostess. “Brooke, this is my good friend Ivan Campbell. Ivan, this is Brooke Simons.”
Brooke’s large dark eyes widened appreciably when she smiled at Ivan. She offered her hand. “My pleasure, Ivan.”
He took her hand, returning her smile. “The pleasure is mine. Your loft is spectacular.”
“Thank you. Please circulate and make certain you get something to eat and drink.”
Nayo had to agree with Ivan. Brooke had dimmed the recessed lights in the expansive space, and hundreds of flickering votives and tea lights twinkled like stars. A dozen, small round tables, each with seating for four, were set up at the far end of the room.
She spied Geoff as he walked with a beautiful young Asian woman clinging possessively to his arm. When she’d asked him who he was bringing to the party, he told her he hadn’t decided.
Geoffrey Magnus was a good catch for the woman who could get him to stand still long enough to propose marriage. His striking good looks, intelligence and family lineage made him one of the city’s most eligible bachelors.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Ivan asked quietly.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Are you sure?”
“Very sure.”
Nayo smiled at Geoff as he approached, then offered her cheek for his kiss. “How are you?”
His gray eyes softened with an unknown emotion. “Wonderful, now that I’ve seen you.”
A slight frown marred her smooth forehead. Geoff had come to the party with another woman, yet he was coming on to her. She extended her hand to the tall, waif-thin woman with the dark, smoky eye makeup and curtain of straight black hair ending at her waist. “I’m Nayo.”
“Michiko,” came her throaty reply. “You’re the photographer.”
“Yes.”
Michiko smiled up at Geoff. “Geoffrey showed me some of your work and I told him I want you to take photos of me for my portfolio.”
“You’re a model.”
Michiko nodded. “Yes. I was told by the booker at an agency that she could book me for a few jobs, but I need a more professional portfolio.”
“You want me to do your portfolio.” The question came out like a statement.
“Yes.”
Nayo gave Geoff a sidelong glance. He winked at her. “Geoffrey has my business card. Call me and we’ll talk.”
“Money is not an issue. I’ll pay you whatever you charge.”
Nayo wanted to tell the woman photography wasn’t only about money. It was satisfaction for the one being photographed and the photographer. Her expression changed when she saw Ivan closing the distance between them, holding a glass with a dark brown liquid in each hand.
Ivan nodded to the tall, blond man and the tall, thin woman talking to Nayo. He handed her one of the glasses. “Here’s your drink.”
She wrinkled her nose. “It looks like a cola.”
Ivan smiled. “But it tastes like a black dog.”
“What’s in a black dog?”
“Bourbon, dry vermouth and blackberry brandy,” Geoff stated confidently as he exchanged a high five with Ivan.
He’d told Nayo he’d become a professional “mixologist,” not because he needed to earn money, but to meet women. Those meeting him for the first time did not link him to the celebrated family who bought, sold, collected and loaned art to major museums throughout the country. She’d allowed him exactly sixty seconds to wallow in self-pity, then called him a poor little rich boy and told him to get over it.
“Ivan Campbell,” Ivan said, introducing himself. “I like a man who knows his cocktails.”
“Geoff Magnus, closet mixologist. And this lovely lady is Michiko.”
Michiko wiggled her fingers at Ivan. “Hi.”
Nayo did a double take, wondering if she was looking at the same woman. Michiko’s contralto had gone up an octave as she licked her lips and batted her lashes at Ivan.
“Excuse me, but Ivan and I are going to get something to eat.” Looping her arm through his, Nayo steered Ivan away from the couple.
“What was that all about?” he asked when they were far enough away for Geoff and his date not to overhear them.
“The nerve of that heifer!”
“Who’s a heifer?”
“Hi-eee,” Nayo said, mimicking the wannabe model.
A knowing smile tilted the corners of Ivan’s firm mouth. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”
“Hell, yeah, I’m jealous, Ivan. The woman’s normal voice is almost as deep as yours.”
“That’s because we have the same anatomical plumbing. Close your mouth, darling.” Her jaw had dropped open.
“No!” Nayo gasped.
Moving closer, he angled his head and brushed a kiss over her mouth. “Yes. And I’m flattered that you’re jealous.”
Going on tiptoe, Nayo pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “That’s because I like you.”
Ivan touched his glass to hers. “I’ll drink to that.” Putting the glass to his mouth, he took a deep swallow. “Nice.”
Nayo took a tentative sip, finding the drink much stronger than she was used to. “I think you’re trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me.”
Ivan’s expression changed like quicksilver. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
She also sobered. “What do you want?”
He leaned closer. “I want to make love to you.”
Nayo closed her eyes. How, she wondered, did he know what she wanted, had unconsciously wanted from the moment she saw him at the gallery? It’d begun when he’d shaken her hand and she’d felt a burning awareness, shattering her resolve not to become involved with a man.
When she opened her eyes, it was to Ivan gazing at her with a tender expression she’d never seen before. She had met him exactly one week ago, yet it felt as if she’d known him as long as she had Geoff. With Ivan she could be herself. There was no need to weigh every word that came to mind in the hope he wouldn’t be offended.
A hint of a smile parted her lips. “I know.”
“You know?”
Ivan wondered if he’d been that transparent or if he’d sent signals so strong that Nayo knew exactly what he wanted. He hadn’t said that he wanted to sleep with her but make love to her. And for him there was a distinct difference.
Sleeping together wasn’t anything more than sexual desire and gratification.
Making love translated into an emotional involvement, something that was so new to him that he was frightened. He’d thought himself in love only once in his life and it had ended badly—at least for him.
It’d taken years after losing his twin to learn to trust, to love, and his fear of loving and losing was never more apparent than when he admitted to a woman that he was falling in love with her. Even if he lived to be a hundred, Ivan would never forget the look on her face. She’d stared at him as if she’d never seen him before. After what seemed like an eon, though it was only seconds, she threw back her head and laughed in his face, telling him he was delusional. Just because she’d allowed him to sleep with her, she said, there was no need to get maudlin. Years later he’d run into her again, and she’d apologized. She’d admitted that her stepfather had sexually abused her as a child, and the trauma had left her emotionally dead. She didn’t hate men, but she couldn’t trust them.
For Ivan the apology had come too late. Her rejection had forced him to put up a shield to keep women at a distance. He enjoyed their company, but wouldn’t permit himself to get in too deep.
Nayo took a step, pressing her chest to Ivan’s. “I know, because I’ve been fantasizing about sleeping with you.”
A wry smile twisted his mouth. She’d said sleep, not make love. “Let me know when you want to sleep together and I’ll make it happen.”
Nayo recoiled as if he’d slapped her. “Did I say something wrong, Ivan?”
“No, you didn’t. You said exactly what you wanted to say.”
Her temper flared. “Why the attitude, Ivan?”
“I don’t have an attitude, Nayo.”
“Yes, you—” A hand on her upper arm stopped her from saying whatever it was she wanted to say to Ivan. Turning, she found Geoff smiling at her. Nayo didn’t have time to react when he pried her drink from her hand.
“Ivan, will you please hold Nayo’s drink. This is our favorite song.”
She didn’t have a chance to respond before Geoff led her to a raised platform that doubled as a dance floor. “What are you doing?” she hissed as he pulled her close. She tried putting some space between their bodies, but Geoff tightened his grip around her waist.
“I’m dancing with my best friend to our favorite song,” he murmured into her hair.
It took a few seconds for Nayo to recognize the Deborah Cox hit “Did You Ever Love Me?”
“It’s your favorite song, Geoff.”
Easing back, Geoff stared down at Nayo’s upturned face. “You look incredibly beautiful tonight,” he said for her ears only.
Nayo didn’t know why, but she felt like crying. She loved Geoff but not the way a woman loved a man. She loved his giving spirit, generosity and his willingness to support her in every endeavor.
He’d put her up while she’d gone apartment hunting, refusing to take any money from her. He’d told her if she ever needed money, he would give her whatever she needed. Thankfully she hadn’t had to go to him for anything. Four years of traveling across the country had taught her how to budget her funds.
“Shame on you, Geoffrey Magnus. You’re here flirting with me when you should be dancing with Michiko.”
His gray eyes darkened like angry storm clouds. “You know Michiko isn’t who she appears to be.”
“I didn’t know that until Ivan pointed it out to me.”
Geoff spun Nayo around and around in an intricate quick step. “Didn’t I see Ivan at your showing?”
“Yes, you did.”
“Do the two of you have something going?”
“We’re friends, Geoff.”
“The way he looks at you says he wants to be more than a friend.”
“Like you?” she countered.
A beat passed. “Yes, Nayo, like me. I’ve never lied to you about my feelings. I’d marry you tomorrow if you’d say yes.”
“I’m not going to marry you or any other man for a long time.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not where I want to be in my career.”
“If you marry me, you wouldn’t have to worry about your career, Nayo.”
“If I marry you, I wouldn’t have a career.”
His brow furrowed. “Why would you say something like that?”
“Instead of being Nayo, I’d become Mrs. Geoffrey Magnus. No critic would ever take my work seriously because of the clout your family’s name wields in the art world.”
“That would never happen,” he argued quietly.
“You’re so isolated in your privileged world that you can’t see beyond the zeros on your bank statement.”
A flush began at Geoff’s neck, creeping up his face to his hairline. “That’s cruel, Nayo.”
“It’s true, Geoff. Do you think I could’ve pulled all the people who came to the showing if it hadn’t been held at your gallery? No,” she said, answering her own question. “Whenever Magnus Galleries opens their doors to showcase a new artist, everybody who’s somebody in the art world shows up. Are they curious? Maybe. But most of them come because they want to see and be seen. I don’t need some bloated, pontificating critic to tell me I’m good. The patrons who write checks are enough validation for me.”
The song ended and Nayo and Geoff stood motionless, staring at each other. “I’d better take you back to your boyfriend so he can stop shooting daggers at me.”
Shifting, Nayo turned to find Ivan standing with his arms crossed over his chest. His body language spoke volumes. He was not happy. “Ivan is a pussycat.”
“Which one? Tiger, lion or leopard?”
“None,” she said as Geoff led her back to Ivan. “One of these days I’m going to invite you over for dinner. I can tell by your face that you haven’t been eating.” It was thinner than she’d seen it in years.
Geoff stopped in midstride. His smile was dazzling. “You are going to let me come to your apartment?”
“Yes. I’ve finally finished decorating it.” She’d decided to invite Geoff because Ivan had earned the distinction of being the first non-family male to enter her sanctuary.
“Can I tell you what I want you to prepare?”
Nayo placed her fingertips over his mouth. “Don’t tell me now.”
Geoff caught her wrist, pulling her hand away. Lowering his head, he kissed her moist lips. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He escorted Nayo over to Ivan. “Thanks for letting me borrow your girlfriend.”
Nothing on Ivan moved, not even his eyes, as he continued to glare at the tall, thin man who looked as if he would fall over in a strong wind. First the guy had had the nerve to interrupt his conversation with Nayo. Then he’d professed that their favorite song was one of unrequited love. And lastly he’d had the audacity to kiss Nayo, knowing he watched.
“Where’s my drink, Ivan?”
He glared at Nayo. “I drank it.”
“Where’s yours?”
“I drank it.”
Her round eyes grew wider. “You had two drinks in what…three or four minutes?”
“I had to do something to keep my hands occupied. Otherwise I would’ve pimp-slapped your skinny-ass friend.”
Nayo blinked, not wanting to believe what she’d just heard. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”
“Do I look like I’m kidding, Nayo?”
She rested a hand on his arm. “Come on, Ivan. There’s no need for you to be jealous of Geoff and me. We’ve been friends for more than ten years.”
“He wants more than friendship.”
“I know that,” she admitted.
“You know that, yet you lead the poor boy on?”
“I’m not leading him on, Ivan. We always hug and kiss.”
“Would you like it if I took you out, then did a slow grind and gave a hug and kiss to a woman in front of you?”
“We weren’t slow-grinding—”
“Enough, Nayo. Please.”
Suddenly it dawned on Nayo. “You’re jealous,” she whispered.
Ivan flashed a supercilious smile. “Give that pretty lady a cigar, because she just hit the bull’s-eye.” He leaned in closer. “I am very, very jealous, Nayo.”
“I know how that feels.”
Reaching for her, Ivan pulled Nayo into the circle of his embrace. “The song that’s playing is a favorite of mine. Will you dance with me?”
Nayo cocked her head, listening to the song coming through speakers set up around the loft. It was Brownstone singing “I Can’t Tell You Why.”
“Of course.”
She followed Ivan to the dance floor and curved her arms under his shoulders. The difference of being held by him and Geoff was like night and day. She gloried in the solid muscle melding with her curves. He wanted to make love to her and she wanted to make love to him.
Ivan’s hands moved down Nayo’s back to her hips, pulling her even closer. He knew he was playing with fire, but he didn’t care. The heat in his groin grew hotter and hotter until it became an inferno. He was on fire.
Nayo felt the pulsing hardness against her thigh and she missed a step. She would’ve fallen if Ivan hadn’t held her up. “Ivan!”
“I know,” he whispered in her ear. “It will go down.”
“When?”
He chuckled. “When I get you home. I’m going to turn you around and I want you to walk in front of me until we’re downstairs.”
She pressed her mouth to his ear. “I should feel you up right here.”
“You better not, because then I won’t be the only one embarrassed tonight.”
“What would you do?”
Ivan whispered in Nayo’s ear what he would do to her, eliciting the response he wanted when she gasped, “Let’s go home, baby.”
They managed to make it to the coat check, where an attendant gave Nayo her coat without anyone noticing Ivan’s state of arousal. They were steps from the door when Geoff appeared in front of them like an apparition.
“Don’t tell me you’re leaving?”
Ivan shot Geoff a warning look. “Walk away, Magnus.”
Geoff took a step backward. “Later, Nayo.”
She nodded, rushing out of the loft in order to defuse what could’ve become a violent altercation. Nayo punched the button for the elevator harder than necessary.
“I don’t appreciate you threatening my friend, Ivan.”
“I didn’t threaten him, doll face. I just told him to get out of my face.”
“You were rude.”
“What did you want me to say? Please go away and leave us alone because right now I have a hard-on I don’t want you to see?”
Reaching around her body, Nayo grabbed his crotch. “Good grief! It hasn’t gone down.”
Ivan laughed, the sound coming from deep within his broad chest. “I told you it’s not going down until I get you home.”
The elevator arrived, and Nayo shifted to let two costumed men exit the car. She recognized one under his Joker makeup as someone who’d been in her graduating class at the School of Visual Arts. She averted her head so he wouldn’t recognize her. Fortunately they made it down to the street level without encountering anyone else.
Ivan searched in his jacket pocket for his cell phone. He punched in speed dial. “Robert, please pick us up in front of the building. Yes, we’re downstairs.”
Within minutes the sleek black Town Car maneuvered up to the curb. Ivan had opened the rear door before the chauffeur exited the car. Nayo got in, then he slipped in beside her. Sliding back the partition, he instructed Robert to stop at Nayo’s apartment building before stopping at Melba’s, a popular Harlem restaurant. He made another call, this one to Melba’s. He ordered stuffed catfish, scampi with rice and collard greens, smothered pork chops, macaroni and cheese, crab cakes, string beans, corn bread and two orders of their famous chicken and waffles.
“Who in heaven’s name is going to eat all that food, Ivan?” Nayo admonished him when he ended the call.
Dropping his arm over her shoulders, he pulled her close. “We are. I ordered enough for tonight’s dinner and leftovers for tomorrow. We’re going to stop at your place to pick up a change of clothes for you. While we’re there, Robert will pick up our food. I also suggest you bring your photo equipment if you want to shoot me. If you don’t have anything planned for Sunday, I’d like you to come with me to a friend’s house. It’s going to be very casual.”
Nayo gave him a baleful look. “It looks as if you’ve made your own plans.”
“Didn’t I agree to go to the party tonight?”
“But we didn’t stay.”
“So, we’ll have our own pre-Halloween party back at my place. And don’t forget you agreed to spend Saturday with me.”
“I guess I did.”
“You guess right, doll face.”
“Why do you call me that?”
“What?”
“Doll face.”
Ivan kissed her forehead. “You have a face that reminds me of a prototype for a beautiful black doll.”
Nayo wanted to tell Ivan that whenever he looked at her she felt utterly feminine and sexy. Heat warmed her cheeks as she gave him a demure smile. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, baby. You should thank your mother and father for creating not only a brilliant daughter, but also an exquisite one.”
“Stop it, Ivan, before you give me a swollen head.”
“Wrong, baby. I’m the one with the swollen head.”
Burying her face between his neck and shoulder, Nayo smothered the laughter bubbling up from her throat. Ivan’s broad shoulders shook when his laughter joined hers. They dissolved in a paroxysm of laughter that bordered on hysterics.
She sank into her soon-to-be lover’s comforting embrace, trying to remember when she’d felt so safe—safe and at peace.
Nayo believed herself one with nature when viewing the sun setting over the Grand Canyon, the grandeur of South Dakota’s Black Hills, Monument Valley in Arizona—the crown jewel in the Navajo Tribal Park—and the razor-sharp summits, blue glaciers and primeval forests of Cascades National Park in the northwest corner of Washington State.
It was the same feeling she had when she was with Ivan. He’d become the yang to her yin, the black to her white and the male to her female. He complemented her in every way. All that was missing was how they would relate to each other in bed.