Clay ... I love him.”
Great. This night kept getting better every second. He swallowed the urge to tell her it was easy to imagine one's self in love at eighteen. With her eyes glistening with tears, he suspected she wasn't in the mood for a lecture on the difference between infatuation and love.
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “We'll work things out, honey. Okay?”
She nodded and wiped at her face.
“Can we leave now?”
“No.” She tugged at his hand. “Dance with me?”
He glanced onto the dance floor with people half his age danced with carefree abandonment. “I don't think so.”
“Oh, come on, Clay. I want to show you off.”
“Show me off? Everyone in here is likely to think I'm a dirty old man trying to sleep with a sweet young thing.”
She shook her head. “All the girls will be jealous because I'm with a hot old white guy who actually has enough soul to be able to dance like a black man.” She flashed a smile at him. “So come on. Let's dance.”
He arched a brow. “After you call me a hot old white guy, how can I refuse?”
She laughed and bolted to her feet.
Casting his eyes towards the ceiling, he rose and followed her onto the dance floor.
* * *
Darbi took off her robe and slipped into her hotel bed. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 12:05 a.m. She hadn't planned to spend so much time with Damien Frazier. He was charming and somehow, the hours had slipped by as they laughed and talked about everything but their competing businesses. And Clayton.
She hadn't even had much time to think about the older Frazier brother until lying in the same bed where he'd made such sweet love to her the night before. Although tired, her thoughts of Clayton didn't bode well for a restful night's sleep. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against her pillow.
With a determined effort, she dismissed thoughts of him and the passion they had shared and slowly drifted to sleep. She woke several times during the night with thoughts of Clay taunting her.
She glanced at the clock and groaned when the number flashed at her. 2:15. Damn him. Why had he run away from her after making love to her and making forgetting him such a difficult undertaking? She doubted she’d be sleeping well until she saw him again.
She woke the next morning, tired, irritable, and determined to seek Clay out and force him to tell her to her face he didn’t want to see her again.
Damien called as she dressed. She smiled at the sound of his voice. “Hello.”
“’Morning. How about we meet for breakfast before the fair starts?”
She sat on the side of her bed. “Sure. I'll meet you in Ally's Café in half an hour.”
“See you then.”
She put the phone down and rose. Walking over to the dresser, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. What was she doing and why? Sleeping with one brother and then hanging out with the other? Clay had bedded her and then made his lack of interest in her clear. Did she take the hint? No. She was plotting his downfall instead. And going out with his brother.
Damien had showed no genuine interest in her and yet seemed to enjoy her company. Although she enjoyed him, she didn't need the added complication of trying to cultivate a friendship with Damien any more than she'd needed a sexual relationship with Clayton. Nevertheless, she knew if Clayton hadn't left, she'd have slept with him again -- even after learning who he was. And she was about to see Damien again.
She shook her head and turned away from her reflection. “When you get back to Philly, you'd better get it together, girl. Instead of seeking him out, you’re going to pretend he doesn’t exist and stay as far away from him as possible.”
* * *
A week later, Clay sat in his office, thinking of Darbi and staring out the window when his secretary buzzed him. He turned and pushed his intercom. “Yes, Jill?”
“There's a Miss Raymond from Calder Technologies here to see you.”
He tensed.
Great. This night kept getting better every second. He swallowed the urge to tell her it was easy to imagine one's self in love at eighteen. With her eyes glistening with tears, he suspected she wasn't in the mood for a lecture on the difference between infatuation and love.
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “We'll work things out, honey. Okay?”
She nodded and wiped at her face.
“Can we leave now?”
“No.” She tugged at his hand. “Dance with me?”
He glanced onto the dance floor with people half his age danced with carefree abandonment. “I don't think so.”
“Oh, come on, Clay. I want to show you off.”
“Show me off? Everyone in here is likely to think I'm a dirty old man trying to sleep with a sweet young thing.”
She shook her head. “All the girls will be jealous because I'm with a hot old white guy who actually has enough soul to be able to dance like a black man.” She flashed a smile at him. “So come on. Let's dance.”
He arched a brow. “After you call me a hot old white guy, how can I refuse?”
She laughed and bolted to her feet.
Casting his eyes towards the ceiling, he rose and followed her onto the dance floor.
* * *
Darbi took off her robe and slipped into her hotel bed. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 12:05 a.m. She hadn't planned to spend so much time with Damien Frazier. He was charming and somehow, the hours had slipped by as they laughed and talked about everything but their competing businesses. And Clayton.
She hadn't even had much time to think about the older Frazier brother until lying in the same bed where he'd made such sweet love to her the night before. Although tired, her thoughts of Clayton didn't bode well for a restful night's sleep. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against her pillow.
With a determined effort, she dismissed thoughts of him and the passion they had shared and slowly drifted to sleep. She woke several times during the night with thoughts of Clay taunting her.
She glanced at the clock and groaned when the number flashed at her. 2:15. Damn him. Why had he run away from her after making love to her and making forgetting him such a difficult undertaking? She doubted she’d be sleeping well until she saw him again.
She woke the next morning, tired, irritable, and determined to seek Clay out and force him to tell her to her face he didn’t want to see her again.
Damien called as she dressed. She smiled at the sound of his voice. “Hello.”
“’Morning. How about we meet for breakfast before the fair starts?”
She sat on the side of her bed. “Sure. I'll meet you in Ally's Café in half an hour.”
“See you then.”
She put the phone down and rose. Walking over to the dresser, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. What was she doing and why? Sleeping with one brother and then hanging out with the other? Clay had bedded her and then made his lack of interest in her clear. Did she take the hint? No. She was plotting his downfall instead. And going out with his brother.
Damien had showed no genuine interest in her and yet seemed to enjoy her company. Although she enjoyed him, she didn't need the added complication of trying to cultivate a friendship with Damien any more than she'd needed a sexual relationship with Clayton. Nevertheless, she knew if Clayton hadn't left, she'd have slept with him again -- even after learning who he was. And she was about to see Damien again.
She shook her head and turned away from her reflection. “When you get back to Philly, you'd better get it together, girl. Instead of seeking him out, you’re going to pretend he doesn’t exist and stay as far away from him as possible.”
* * *
A week later, Clay sat in his office, thinking of Darbi and staring out the window when his secretary buzzed him. He turned and pushed his intercom. “Yes, Jill?”
“There's a Miss Raymond from Calder Technologies here to see you.”
He tensed.
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