Heat Wave

Love was with Faryn in the outer office reviewing the final guest list for a charity luncheon in two weeks. When the elevator slid open, she looked up over the rim of her square-framed glasses as Maleek stepped off.

She thought of her dreams and felt warmth flood her neck. She removed her glasses and rose to her stilettos. “I wasn’t expecting you today, Mr. Trenton,” she said, hating that her heart pounded so hard at the first sight of him. She stepped toward her door to open it wide.

Maleek nodded at Faryn as he walked up to Love.

Overwhelmed by the sight of him, devastatingly handsome even in a V-neck T-shirt and shorts, she instinctively stepped back against the wooden door of her office as she looked up at this man who made her five foot ten inch height seem like she was a dwarf. “How can I help you?”

“I was headed out of town for a last-minute weekend trip and wanted to check on things before I left,” he said, stepping past her into the office.

Love entered and closed the door behind them. With him in it, her spacious office seemed like a cubicle. While his back was turned, she pressed her hand to her heart. It was beating wildly.

She hadn’t seen him since the day he signed the contracts and paid his deposit. Nearly a week. She thought her reaction to him would have faded. No such luck.

Just as she passed him, he lightly touched her shoulder, and Love turned by the bookcase to look up at him.

Maleek reached down to brush his fingers against her cheek.

Love gasped a little, completely taken by surprise by his touch.

“You had glitter on your cheek,” Maleek offered, smiling and showing off his even white teeth and deep dimples, which made his strong and angular, handsome face totally adorable.

“It’s on some of the decorations for events,” she offered, stepping back again and finding nothing but the unrelenting hardness of the bookcase pressing into her back. “Sometimes I find it in the oddest places, trust me.”

Maleek’s smile widened and Love felt her neck and cheeks warm with embarrassment. She could have crawled into a hole and died. Oh, God, why in the hell did I just say that?

His eyes—those smoky and all too sexy slanted eyes—traveled over every point of interest on her face before landing on her lips.

Love was aware of his eyes on her and her mouth parted just a bit.

“I really like the shape of your mouth, Love,“ Maleek said huskily, low in his throat.

Love hated that she shivered and took joy in his compliment. It unnerved a woman fighting ever so hard to resist his charms.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, shifting to the side to gain freedom from his aura surrounding her and luring her in to everything she didn’t want.

Maleek laughed, low and husky and slightly mocking.

Love looked at him over her thin shoulder. “Something funny, Mr. Trenton?” she asked, her southern accent coming through.

His smile dropped a bit as he met her eyes with humor. “Whenever you say ‘Mr. Trenton,’ you sound just like this mean old school teacher I had back in sixth grade. Old Miss Lemons. She was just as sour as her name.”

Love smiled a bit as she thought that over before she came back around her desk to face him. “And you remind me of every bad little boy—or egotistical wealthy man—that thinks what his heart desires is his for the taking.”

Maleek nodded. “You really do look like a school teacher,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and showing a tattoo of a panther on the back of his forearm.

Another dig. “Oh, and why’s that?”

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Oh, no, you wrote the check, now cash it,” she told him, tilting her head up to lock her wide eyes with his.

“Okay,” Maleek agreed, circling her fully as he eyed her up and down. “The hair up in a bun–”

“It’s a chignon, Mr. Trenton.”

“The no-fuss makeup—”

“I’m a busy working woman. Not sure how many of those you run into,” she quipped, looking over her shoulder to keep her eyes on him as he continued to circle her. “What else?”

“The slacks and dresses with your prissy little shirt and pearls . . . you have teacher written all over you,” he finished with satisfaction, lightly touching the double-strand necklace she wore.

“First, let me say thank you. I will take it as a compliment that I ‘look’ like a teacher.” Love crossed her arms over her own chest and then circled him fully. “Second, you can dish it, but can you take it?”

“I’m straight,” Maleek said with confidence, sliding his hands into his pockets.

She lifted one tweezed and shaped brow, pausing in front of him. “And you call a grown man wandering the streets dressed like a twelve-year-old . . . straight?”

Maleek pretended to look wounded. “A twelve-year-old?” he balked.

“Better still, like one of those forty-year-old rappers. Uhm, yo, yo, yo, this MC Grandpa in this house, foshizzle, my nizzle.” Love did a classic Run-DMC stance, actually enjoying their banter.

“Oh, you got jokes?”

“You do know they sell suits in your size?”

“And you assume I don’t own one.”

“Did you not assume that I don’t own anything but conservative clothing?”

“A’ight, you got me,” he said, smiling as he held his hand to his chest with a grin.

Love forced herself to look away from him. “Can we discuss your event really quickly before you head off?” she asked, bending down to pull a large leather-bound portfolio from beneath her desk.

“Of course.”

During the next thirty minutes, she updated Maleek on ideas she had for the event, getting his approval for each item on her list. Many times she looked up from her design board of swatches of colors to find his eyes on her. And always—always—her heart swelled. She was a mature, observant woman who knew damn well when a man found her desirable, and the look in Maleek’s eyes hinted at nothing less. That and the way he kept focusing on her mouth.

“Okay. You know what? Stop doing that!” she finally said, slapping her hand down on the desktop.

Maleek looked confused. “Stop doing what?” he asked, holding up his hands.

Love rose to her feet, shaking her head. “Never mind,” she muttered, feeling foolish. “So this should do it for now. I have your cell number if I have any other questions. Monday we will go and view the locations I have in mind. Okay? Alright. Enjoy your weekend.”

Maleek rose as well. “Did I do something?” he asked.

Love brought her hand up to play in the soft tendrils at her nape. “No, nothing at all,” she rushed to assure him, just wanting him gone. Wanting her body to ease back to normalcy.

Maleek hung his head, and then cut his eyes up to look at her as he licked his lips. “I better get going,” he said, his eyes dipping again to watch as she nervously licked her lips.

Love’s heart raced, but she was learning well to hide how he made her feel. And he made her feel hot. Very hot. Nervous. Anxious. Dizzy. “Good-bye,” she told him, turning on her heel to walk away from him.

She held her breath until the door closed quietly behind him.

Maleek took three steps before he turned and strode back into Love’s office. She looked up, obviously startled by his return.

He was just as surprised.

“Listen,” Maleek began, closing the door behind himself.

“Yes, Mr. Trenton?” she asked, all too politely, leaning back in her chair.

The nerves he suddenly felt shocked him. He had ten women on speed dial, but it was this woman dominating his everything. It was Love he wanted to make smile. It was Love he wanted to know more about. It was Love he wanted to see sitting across a candlelit table. “I have a charity dinner to attend next week and I wanted to—”

Brrrnnnggg.

“Excuse me,” she said, leaning forward to answer her phone. “I’ve been waiting on a call from one of my vendors.”

Maleek licked his lips as he turned from her. Am I making a mistake asking Love out? he wondered. What do I even know about her?

Love rose to her feet, covering the phone with her hand. “I’ll be right back,” she mouthed before coming around the desk and crossing the floor.

Maleek’s eyes dipped to take in the subtle back and forth motion of her hips until she passed him. He smiled before he dropped his head. He was curious as hell about what was hidden beneath her pencil skirts and sophisticated blouses.

But if that was all that intrigued him about Love, then it would be easy to ask her out, show her a good time, and wait for her to show him a better one . . . and then eventually go their separate ways.

But it wasn’t just the hint of sexy contained beneath her sophisticated garb. Maleek found himself wondering what made her curve her luscious lips into a smile or just what would put a mischievous glint in the depth of her bright eyes. He would catch himself wondering what she was doing throughout the day. He wondered what she liked to do outside of work.

Maleek wanted to know more about her than just what sweetness was hidden between her thighs . . . and that reminded him of the fall he took for Monique. But he knew if he wanted that bigger picture—the happily ever after—then he had to take a chance on falling in love again.

But . . .

Rubbing his hand over his mouth, he pulled his iPhone from the pocket of his crisp short-sleeved T-shirt. He opened the browser and quickly typed her name in the search engine. After quickly scrolling through the results for her professional Web site and some newspaper articles on her business, his eyes lit on the ex-wife of R & B superstar Byron Bilton is now taking the entertainment world by storm in her own right . . .

His stomach tightened as if he’d been gut punched. Love had been married to Byron Bilton.

The office door opened.

Maleek looked up as he exited out of the screen with his thumb.

“Okay, sorry about that. What were you saying?” she asked, lightly touching his arm as she came around to reclaim her seat behind her desk.

Maleek looked down at her and suddenly everything looked and felt different. All of his internal alarms were ringing, even as he felt his desire for her still stirring. He had to think with his bigger head.

With his wealth and celebrity status, he had run into many types of women. Some were intelligent, hard-working women filled with independence. Then there were the groupies, handing out random sex acts to collect in their mental scrapbooks; the ones looking for a relationship with celebrities as their own claim to fame; and the worst of the worst—the ones looking to wed a celebrity to live in the lap of luxury. It was the husband hunters who faked their love. It made him feel like a walking bank account and not a man with blood and flesh and feelings.

At least the groupies kept it real.

Love’s face filled with confusion as she picked up a gold pen. “Mr. Trenton?” she said.

His eyes shifted to her face. “Uhm . . . never mind,” Maleek said. “Don’t worry about it.”

Love lifted one shoulder in a semishrug. “Okay,” she said simply. “Enjoy your weekend.”

Maleek said nothing else, wishing he didn’t feel so disappointed, as he turned and walked out of the office. He rode the elevator down and met up with Yuri, who was dutifully waiting in all black in the lobby. After they climbed into the SUV, he slid down in the seat and covered his mouth with his hand as he peered out the window at nothing.

“You a’ight?” Yuri asked as he drove them toward the Newark Liberty International Airport.

Maleek nodded even as the word no formed on his lips.