Nayo stepped back to survey her handiwork. She smiled. She’d personally hung the pictures in Ivan’s apartment. He’d wanted to pay someone to do it, but she’d overruled him.
Sid had told her that he’d have her framing order complete in about a week, but he was proved wrong when the factory he’d ordered the materials from had burned to the ground and he’d had to use an alternative supplier. Sid had then offered to take an additional ten percent off the total and promised to have the completed photos and prints delivered to Ivan’s brownstone—in the past Nayo had always had to pick up her order.
And so today Sid had come through. It was the day before Thanksgiving and she’d spent all morning and part of the afternoon hanging pictures.
The heat of Ivan’s body seeped into her as he pressed his chest to her back. She shivered when he planted a kiss on the nape of her neck.
“It looks nice.”
Folding her arms under her breasts, she angled her head. It’d taken hours of measuring to determine where to position the prints in the many rooms. She’d decided to add a series of prints along the hallway outside the bedrooms, too.
“I have to agree with you. What time are you expecting Carla?”
Ivan glanced at his watch. “She should be here any minute.”
“I hope you’re ready, because once your apartment is featured in the magazine, you’re going to get a lot of attention from all the single ladies.”
He kissed the nape of her neck. Ivan wasn’t certain whether he liked Nayo’s new sleek hairstyle. He knew she looked different but hadn’t figured it out until he realized he missed seeing the shiny black curls.
“I have all the attention I can handle with this single lady. Besides, my name and address will not appear in the magazine.”
“Have you ever considered marriage?”
Ivan froze. Nayo was asking the question his relatives never failed to ask him whenever they got together. “No.”
Nayo turned to face him. She tried reading his impassive expression and failed. It was as if he’d pulled down a shade to conceal his innermost feelings. “You have to know you’re what every together sister is looking for in a man. It’s too bad you’ve taken yourself off the market.”
Ivan blinked once. “Are you asking for yourself, or have you become an advocate for sisters looking for a man? If you are, then I’m not interested or available.”
Nayo recoiled as if he’d struck her across the face. “What a cruel thing to say to me.”
“Since when is being honest cruel, Nayo?”
She struggled to control her rising temper. “I’m not asking for myself or anyone else. And you know my views on marriage. I—” Her cell phone rang, stopping her verbal assault. Taking the tiny instrument out of the back pocket of her jeans, she stared at the display. It was Geoff.
She flipped the top. “Hi.”
“Are we still on for tomorrow?”
“Yes, we’re still on. What time do you want me to come?”
“I’ll pick you up around two.”
Nayo saw Ivan watching her intently, so she walked out of the living room to the alcove, where a fire blazed in the fireplace. “You don’t have to pick me up. I can take a cab.”
“Mother arranged for her driver to pick you up and take you back home.”
Nayo wanted to ask Geoff if he always did what Mother said, but held her tongue. The fact that Geoffrey Magnus was still a mama’s boy grated on her nerves. Although he’d come into his trust fund, he hadn’t moved out of the house where he’d grown up. And for Nayo, moving into an apartment in the same building where your parents lived did not constitute being on your own.
“I’ll be ready at two.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” she repeated.
Returning the cell to her jeans pocket, she walked back into the living room to discover that Ivan had removed the leveler, step stool and hammer she’d used to hang the photos. She left the living room and found him in the kitchen.
“I’m leaving now,” she said.
His eyes widened. “Aren’t you going to stay to see Carla’s reaction?”
Nayo shook her head. “No. You can tell me when I see you Saturday.”
Simone Whitfield-Madison had sent invitations to select family members and friends to witness her repeating her vows to her husband of three months. The ceremony that was scheduled for four, with a reception dinner immediately following the exchange of vows, was to be held in her cousin’s East Harlem brownstone.
Ivan had asked if she would accompany him, and Nayo hadn’t hesitated because she was anxious to meet the celebrated owners of Signature Bridals before going to Puerto Rico for Ava and Kyle’s beachfront wedding.
“I’d like you to stay. Please.”
She blew out a breath. “Okay.”
Ivan chided himself for pleading and for Nayo making it sound as if she were doing him a favor. He didn’t know what it was, but he was beginning to feel as if they were drifting apart. It began when Nayo complained about not feeling well. Days later she came down with a cold that left her coughing, sneezing and sniffing for a week.
He’d gone to her apartment to offer her some TLC, but she refused to open the door to him, and whenever he called, she couldn’t talk because it precipitated a coughing jag. Once she recovered and he went to see her, Ivan couldn’t believe he was looking at the same woman. Her weight loss was frightening, and he’d embarked on a campaign to make certain she ate a minimum of three meals each day. She’d regained some weight, at least enough to fill out what had been petite curves.
Closing the distance between them, he gathered her in a protective embrace. “Why won’t you come with me tomorrow?”
Nayo rested her cheek on his chest, listening to the steady strong beats of his heart. “I’d already made plans.”
“Can’t you back out?”
Tilting her chin, she glared at Ivan. “No! Even if I could, I wouldn’t.”
He flashed a sensual smile. “You can’t blame a brother for trying.”
She returned his smile. “Yes, I can, when that brother is scheming and scamming on a sister.”
“But when the sister looks like you, then you can’t blame a brother for at least trying.”
“Dial down the bull, Ivan.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Is that what you—” The chiming of the doorbell interrupted what he planned to say. Ivan grimaced at the same time he smothered a savage expletive.
“I heard that,” Nayo called as he walked out of the kitchen.
Ivan continued walking. If the doorbell hadn’t rung, he would’ve told Nayo that he knew she was spending Thanksgiving with Geoff, that he was not only jealous of the man, but also jealous of their easygoing relationship.
Whenever Geoff called Nayo, he noticed the change in her voice, how her voice grew softer, more sensual. Another thing he noticed, particularly at the Halloween party, which now seemed eons ago, was how Geoff looked at her. As a man he recognized lust in another man’s eyes.
Geoffrey Magnus not only wanted Nayo Goddard in his bed, he wanted her in his life. He wanted what Ivan wanted, and Ivan was certain Geoff had made his intentions known in very few words.
Meanwhile he himself had become an expert in denial. Unofficially he and Nayo had become a couple. Whenever he got together with Kyle and Duncan and their fiancées, Nayo was there with him. When it was his turn to host Sunday afternoon or evening football at his home, Nayo was there with him. Each and every time he and Nayo were together it was as a couple, a couple among other couples.
Suddenly it hit him as he pressed a button on the intercom. How could he not have seen it before? He and Nayo went out together, but always in the company of others. Both had fairly busy schedules, but not so busy he couldn’t find time to court her.
“Yes?” he said into the speaker.
“It’s Carla.”
Ivan opened the door and Carla Harris swept into the apartment with the aplomb of a model strutting down the runway. She spun around, a black wool cape fluttering out around her body like Batman’s cape. She stopped twirling long enough to offer him an air kiss.
“Ivan. Darling. You look simply gorgeous.” How, she mused, could one man look so utterly delicious in a pair of jeans, T-shirt and low-heeled boots?
He gazed at her under lowered lids. “Thank you, Carla.”
She stared at him through the lenses of her red glasses. “Are you all right?”
Ivan’s impassive expression did not change. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“My, my, my,” she said. “Aren’t we formal today?”
Carla saw movement out the corner of her eye, and she recognized the young woman joining her and Ivan. “It’s nice to see you again, Nayo.”
Nayo extended her hand. “How have you been, Carla?”
“Business is good.” She took the proffered hand. “I am so certain that after the layout of Ivan’s home appears in AD, I’ll have business coming out the yin-yang.” Carla winked at the photographer who went by only one name. “I heard your first showing almost sold out.”
Nayo knew Carla could’ve only gotten that information from Geoff, and she planned to talk to him about talking about her business. “Thankfully, it was quite successful.”
Carla waved a hand. “You’re much too modest, Nayo.” She turned and smiled at Ivan. “Please show me what you’ve put on your walls.”
Nayo’s eyes met Ivan’s. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
Carla watched Ivan staring at Nayo’s retreating figure. She’d seen that look enough times to know when a man was enchanted by a woman. For Ivan that woman happened to be a very talented photographer who was making a name for herself in the art world.
She followed Ivan in and out of rooms, pausing to study the framed and matted photos and prints. What he’d selected to grace the walls of his home was nothing short of perfection, black-and-white photographs and colorful prints complemented the personality of the rooms in which they hung.
“Bravo, Ivan,” she said, applauding softly. “You have chosen well.” Carla retrieved her BlackBerry from her tote, accessing her calendar. “I have several dates the photographer is available to shoot the layout. You’re going to have to let me know when you will be available.”
“E-mail me the dates.”
She punched several keys. “I just did. Someone at the magazine will send you a packet outlining the terms and conditions of the layout. It will look more daunting than it actually is, so I suggest you give it to your lawyer to look over before you sign and return it.”
Ivan nodded. He would give it to Kyle, who handled all his legal business. “Okay.”
Carla patted his shoulder. “You did well, Ivan. In fact, you did better than I would’ve done. I’m going to let you get to your business with Nayo. If I don’t see you before the end of the year, then Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.”
Leaning over, Ivan kissed her cheek. “Same to you.” He escorted Carla to the door, waiting until he saw her get into her car before he closed the door. He found Nayo in the kitchen sitting on a tall stool at the cooking island, sipping from a mug.
Ivan had tried to convince Nayo to come with him to his sister’s house in Staten Island for Thanksgiving dinner. He usually shared the holiday with his parents, but this year Roberta had volunteered to do the cooking.
Roberta and her orthodontist husband had recently moved into a larger house, because after eleven years of marriage they’d decided to have another child. Ivan didn’t understand why it’d taken them almost ten years to elect to do so. Whenever he asked his sister why she hadn’t given him another niece or nephew, her comeback was that she was waiting for him to give her a niece or nephew. Ivan knew that wasn’t going to happen. If he was unable to commit to one woman, he would never father a child.
He’d seen firsthand the emotional turmoil not having a father caused in a child’s life. Thankfully his father had been there for him. Felton Campbell was a simple man who’d dropped out of college to go to work to help support his family when his own father was killed in a hit-and-run. He worked as a hospital orderly for thirty years, then retired and enrolled in college as a part-time student, eventually earning a long-awaited liberal arts degree.
* * *
Nayo shifted on the stool, glancing over her shoulder when Ivan walked into the kitchen. “How did it go?”
Ivan angled his head and smiled. “She loved them.”
“Good.” Nayo slid off the stool. “I really have to go home now.”
“Would you like to go to the movies?”
She looked at Ivan, her expression registering shock. “Tonight?”
“Yes, tonight.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Why?”
“Why,” he repeated, “because we hardly do anything together.”
Nayo studied Ivan’s lean face, silently admiring his exquisite bone structure. “We do everything together,” she argued softly.
Reaching for the mug, he eased it from her grip, setting it on the countertop. “Whenever we do anything, it’s always with Kyle, Duncan and their fiancées.”
“I thought you enjoyed hanging out with them.”
“I do. But I’d like to spend more time with you—alone.”
“Why do you want to change things, Ivan? I enjoy you. I hope you enjoy me. And there’s no doubt we enjoy each other’s friends.”
“Speak for yourself, doll face.”
Nayo rolled her eyes at the same time as she shook her head. “Why don’t you like Geoff?”
“Did I mention his name?”
“You didn’t have to, Ivan. Every time he calls me you seem to catch an attitude. Not only are we friends, but Geoff and I are colleagues.”
“A colleague who wants to…”
“What, Ivan?” she asked when he didn’t finish his statement.
“You know what he wants, Nayo.”
“No, I don’t. You tell me.”
Ivan stared at Nayo, not wanting to argue with her. What he enjoyed more was kissing her and making love with her. And it’d been weeks since they’d gone to bed together. Once she recovered from the cold, she told him she was on her menses. He’d canceled evening hours tonight because he’d learned from past experience that patients tended to skip their sessions the day before a holiday.
“Come. I’ll take you home.”
Ivan reached for her jacket off the back of the stool, then held it while Nayo slipped her arms into the sleeves. He picked up his own jacket and keys, which he’d left on a low stool near the entrance to the kitchen.
They walked out of the brownstone and when they reached the corner, Ivan took Nayo’s hand. It was a cold, crisp, late-November day. The local supermarket was crowded with shoppers picking up last-minute items for their Thanksgiving dinner.
“You don’t have to walk me up,” Nayo said to Ivan as they neared her apartment building.
“Please don’t tell me what I don’t have to do, Nayo. I’m walking you upstairs.”
There were times when Nayo found Ivan to be the most stubborn, exasperating man she’d ever met. Once he set his mind to something, it was almost impossible to get him to change it. The first time she accused him of not being flexible, not wanting to compromise, he’d glared at her, obviously hoping she would cave in under his intimidation. She didn’t, and the evening ended in an impasse with her asking him to take her home.
Tossing her keys at him, she waited for him to unlock the door leading into the vestibule. She preceded Ivan up the staircase, feeling the heat of his gaze on her back. Mrs. Anderson was on the upper landing, trying to coax Colin back into her apartment. When the feline spied Nayo, he scooted back into his apartment and her neighbor quickly closed the door. Colin had taken to running off as soon as his owner opened the door. One day the building superintendent found him curled up next to the radiator near the door that led to the basement.
Ivan unlocked the door to Nayo’s apartment. Heat and the soft glow from a floor lamp enveloped him when he walked in. He handed Nayo her keys. “I’ll pick you up at three-thirty on Saturday for the wedding.”
She smiled. “I’ll be ready.” They only had to walk one block to the McMillans’.
Ivan angled his head and brushed his mouth over Nayo’s. “Enjoy your Thanksgiving.”
“You, too. Good night, Ivan.”
He winked at her. “Good night, doll face.”