Corporate Seduction Read online

  9

  On one side of the glossy brown table Jonathan Peterson, the CEO of Sensuality, Inc., sat with his sloe-eyed son, Barkley. On the other side Reka and Cienna sat, the epitome of professionalism.

  They’d had an eight-thirty appointment and it was now ten-forty-five. They’d discussed everything from the launch party to the possible liability of underage models used in the latest catalog. Now they were discussing Jonathan’s will and the changes brought on by his nasty divorce from former model Eleanor DePalma Peterson.

  Reka drew lazy circles on her yellow legal pad while they talked. She probably should be paying attention, but Jonathan Peterson was a selfish whiner if she ever saw one. He didn’t want to give his wife one dime, even after she’d had the pleasure of interrupting him while he humped their twenty-year-old maid in the laundry room. He looked at Cienna as if he wanted her to be next in line, but wisely held back after he was reminded of her stand on sexual harassment. Reka definitely didn’t like the man or the lecherous look in his eyes.

  Now his son, that was another matter entirely.

  Barkley was about twenty-five, probably six feet tall, with a smooth raisin complexion and gray bedroom eyes. His voice was silky, like fine wine, his smile mind-blowing. Reka sighed. But his rap was weak. She’d heard his tired lines too many times before and was far from impressed. He flirted openly with her and any other woman with a pulse. The one thing he did have going for him was a huge inheritance he would collect upon his father’s death or his thirtieth birthday, whichever came first. That was enough to both spoil Barkley and entice women into his bed.

  It was a good thing she was into making her own money and planning for her own future, else she’d have to give those skanks a run for their money. Still, sitting across from him didn’t amuse her as it usually did. This morning she’d been preoccupied. Thoughts of last night, and Khalil’s parting words, still danced in her mind.

  “So we’re clear that any models appearing at the launch party need to be over twenty-one? The press will be there and they’ll be hungry for news. You can’t afford another lawsuit right now, especially not with Eleanor on you about money.” Cienna began to gather her papers.

  “Barkley will ensure that all the models are legal.” Jonathan shot his son an eerie look.

  Barkley nodded. “Legal and fine.” Licking his lips, he looked towards Reka.

  He was such an immature goof; she smiled in response. “No doubt.” Then made a point of licking her lips in return.

  He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Reka grinned. Just as she thought. Barkley couldn’t handle her.

  “Then I think we’re done here. I’ll call Eleanor’s attorney, then get back to you.” Cienna spoke quickly as she stood.

  Reka followed her lead, watching out of the corner of her eye as Barkley’s eyes roamed the length of her suit.

  Jonathan rose, extending his hand to Cienna. “It’s always a pleasure doing business with you, Cienna.”

  A clearly fake smile spreading across her face, Cienna shook his hand. “Likewise, Jonathan.”

  They were out of the conference room when Reka heard an intake of breath from behind.

  “Is it sexual harassment if I tell you how hot your legs make me?” Barkley all but hissed.

  When she turned abruptly, he stumbled, putting his hands up to keep their bodies from clashing. With a hand on her hip and in a gesture that she knew pulled her blouse tightly over her breasts, she stared him right in his sultry eyes. “It is, and I won’t hesitate to prosecute to the fullest extent of the law.”

  “Mmmm, I’m scared of you,” he chimed.

  “You should be.” She rolled her eyes and left him standing there.

  Reka was hungry. The early meeting had caused her to miss her daily bagel and coffee, and her stomach was about to start a rebellion. So when she passed the reception desk and Clare, the receptionist, called her name, she almost yelled at the poor older woman. Instead, she took a deep breath and turned.

  “Yes, Clare?”

  “There’s someone waiting over there for you.”

  Reka followed the woman’s gaze to the tiny alcove just off the main lobby. There, in all his tall, fine-ass black man glory, was Donovan Jackson.

  From across the room he gave her that smirk that never failed to make her panties wet. She frowned. She must really be hungry and frustrated, because all she felt now was irritation. “Thanks, Clare,” she said as she walked past the desk.

  His body language said ‘come and get it.’ His thick lips and bald head said he knew just how she liked it. But her keen memory and her desire not to catch a charge for ramming her fist down his throat ruled. “We don’t do criminal work,” she said with all the attitude she felt.

  Donovan chuckled. “That’s cool. I’m not looking for a lawyer.”

  He still smelled good and his gear was tight, a complete Sean Jean denim hookup with navy blue Tims at his feet. She was so caught up in the sight of him here in the office that she slipped up. “Then what are you looking for?”

  He smoothed a hand over his clean-shaven chin. “I’m looking for an assistant,” his hand moved down over his chest before falling to his side, “to assist me.”

  Mmph. Nine months ago she would have bent over backwards to do just that. Luckily she’d grown a hell of a lot in nine months. “Look, Donovan, this is my place of employment. You have to take your games elsewhere.”

  “I’m not running a game this time. Can’t I just take you to lunch?”

  “You could if I wanted to go, but I don’t. As a matter of fact, I thought we’d decided not to see each other anymore.”

  Donovan took a step closer. “You decided that and I let it go for a minute, but now I’m having second thoughts.”

  He reached out, touched one of the curls falling from her udo while he talked. She swiped his hand away. “Well, check this. Your thoughts no longer concern me. What we had is over and done with. Buying me lunch won’t change that.”

  “Damn, girl. Why are you giving me such a hard time?”

  “I’m not giving you half of what you deserve, that’s what you should be thinking about.” She took a deep breath, realizing her voice was elevating and that she was quickly reverting back to the street savvy girl from the club. She didn’t like it one bit. “Look, it’s just over between us. I don’t think lunch, or any other shared meal, is a good idea. So do me a favor and leave for good this time.”

  She turned to walk away but he grabbed her arm. “I’ll leave, but it’s not over. Not by a long shot.”

  * * *

  With quick strides, a frown on her face and a bag of chips in hand, Reka finally made it to her office and slammed the door behind her. Plopping into the chair, she banged her palm against the mouse and waited for the computer screen to wake from its sleep mode.

  Her head began to throb, and her stomach rumbled in protest. She yanked the bag of chips open and hastily stuck two into her mouth. While crunching on the salty snack, she touched the mouse again, dragging the arrow down the list of new emails. Deciding there were no pressing work messages, she switched screens and her personal email account came up. A few jokes, a daily horoscope and a message from a vendor she was checking for Tacoma’s wedding showed up in her inbox. Just as she was about to click out of that screen, she spotted a message that made her stomach churn, this time from shock.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: Thoughts of You

  If I could stop thinking about you for just one minute of the day I’d probably get a lot more work done. But since meeting you that’s been impossible. I cannot begin to erase the past or the heartache that you’ve endured, but I can promise you one thing, I will be the best man that you never had.

  KJF

  P.S. Open your top right drawer. Someone’s dying to meet you.

  Slowly she swallowed, her eyes roaming over the message again. The background was of lively pink roses, the font
a pretty script that put her in mind of romance. His signature, simply his initials, gave the impression that he was the only one in her life who would send her a message like this, which incidentally was true. As if the words had just sunk in, she sat up in her chair to pull the desk drawer open.

  Inside was a green box with a lovely gold ribbon. Her heart fluttered and her eyes almost watered. Shaking herself free of romanticizing, she tugged at the bow and cracked open the box. Whatever it was had been wrapped in a mess of tissue paper that Reka none-too-gently tore away.

  “Oh,” she gasped when the lightweight crystal figurine settled in the palm of her hand.

  Now her heart all but stopped as she blinked furiously. How had he known? She hadn’t told anybody of her collection.

  He must have seen them in her apartment, in the curio cabinet on the wall near the door. Damn, he’d paid that much attention.

  The painted white face was sad, the red mouth downturned, one lone tear inching down the cheek. Big red pants, a wide yellow shirt, colorful bowtie and huge shiny black shoes, a form she’d grown to love. The delicate crystal and the tag noting the store in which it had been purchased gave her a clue as to the price.

  But that really didn’t matter to Reka. What seemed abundantly clear was that a lot of thought had gone into this gift. Thoughts of her, just as his message had stated. He had been thinking of her.

  Her heart found an unsteady rhythm as an idea formed in her mind. Khalil was definitely different from any man she’d ever known. His leaving her hanging last night and this extremely thoughtful gift were evidence of that.

  So what was her reason for not pursuing things with him again?

  Age? No, he wasn’t simply older than her by seven years; he was more mature, more comfortable with his manhood than the boys she was used to.

  And that, she decided, could be a good thing, a very good thing.

  * * *

  Reka was in meetings all morning. He had been behind closed doors with Cienna and Keith all afternoon. By the time he made it back to his office and called her, she was already gone for the day. Unable to quite describe the emptiness inside him, Khalil packed up his things and headed home himself.

  Entering his apartment, he performed his usual ritual. He switched on the computer and began to undress. The only place he really let himself go was within the confines of his own home. Slipping into an old pair of basketball shorts and leaving his sleeveless undershirt on, he walked in his socks back into his home office and prepared to work on breaking into the Page & Associates network. If he could figure out how the network had been accessed, hopefully that would narrow down his list of suspects.

  After working nonstop for about an hour, exhaustion began creeping into his bones. Glancing at the clock, he noticed it was almost seven. He’d work until eight, pop a TV dinner into the microwave and then be done for the night. Then the doorbell interrupted him.

  * * *

  Reka had left the office an hour early. Taking a trip to the nearest department store, she headed straight for the lingerie department and found herself once again immersed in the products of Sensuality, Inc. It took close to an hour before she selected the right combination and headed towards the subway and home.

  “Hot date with Mr. Handsome, huh?” Grammy chirped from her favorite spot on the couch.

  Yes, she was still here and truth be told, Reka didn’t really see her returning to Sunny Days. But she’d have to deal with that dilemma later. Right now she had another objective. After thirty minutes in the tub, she moistened every inch of her bronze skin, paying close attention to the troublesome areas like the heels of her feet and elbows. She didn’t know about anybody else, but she wouldn’t want to be all up on a guy and then feel his ashy heels or elbows. That was an instant turn off.

  The lingerie lay against her like cool wisps of silk, in an awesome burnt orange hue that almost clashed with her skin tone. Even though it was November, stockings were not going to work with this outfit, and neither were garters. She’d simply go barefoot with her spiky heeled sandals, she thought as she slipped her legs into the form-fitting black bodysuit. Clasping a gold chain belt at her waist, she turned from side to side to survey the results. “Go get him, girl.” She winked and gave herself one last pep talk.

  Wisely, she’d taken her trench coat into her room with her so Grammy wouldn’t see the outfit she was going out in. That would take another half hour of explaining, and she didn’t have time for that. “Don’t wait up, Grammy,” she chimed as she closed the door behind her.

  Her heels clicked along the sidewalk as she walked the few blocks to Khalil’s condo complex. With each step her heart beat a little faster, and her center pulsated a little more persistently. She’d made up her mind; she was moving forward with Khalil tonight. And whatever happened afterwards would simply happen. But tonight she was going to have that man. She needed to have a taste of him.

  She pressed the bell and debated whether to untie her coat and give him a sneak peek right off the bat or keep it closed and let his suspense build. He answered so quickly the decision was made for her.

  “Hi.” His surprised expression instantly alerted her.

  “Hi.” Her voice wavered slightly. “Am I disturbing you?” She hadn’t really thought far enough into her plan to consider whether he might have company.

  “Ah, no. No, you’re not disturbing me.” When his heart found its rhythm again, Khalil stepped to the side to let her in. “I’m a little surprised to see you here, though.”

  She walked past him, her perfume following behind her like a dog on a leash. He closed his eyes and willed himself to close the door and follow her into the living room.

  “I didn’t feel like staying in tonight.” Reka stood in the middle of his living room and looked around. Plain furniture, expensive but bland, with straight lines and not a lot of character. “Thought I’d come over and give you another lesson in relaxation.” In a few weeks she’d school him on decorating, but first things first.

  Her back was to him. Then she turned slightly, her head sort of peeking at him over her shoulder. Her hair was loose, her eyes glittering, her lips shiny and beckoning. He swallowed deeply. “Relaxation. That sounds like a good idea.” He took a step closer to take her coat.

  He was a gentleman. He’d want to take her coat, to hang it up for her. Reka slowly undid the belt, then slipped the material from her shoulders. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes moving from her head to her feet. She almost purred in pleasure. “Can you hang up my coat?”

  Swallowing hard wasn’t helping. Taking deep breaths wasn’t helping. His groin pulsated, growing with each sweep of her body. Whatever it was she wore, it wasn’t enough. The material was like a second skin, making her look like a sultry silhouette instead of a flesh and blood woman in his living room. Again, he had to remind himself that he wasn’t a horny teenager. “Ah, sure. Sure. Let me take that for you.” He reached for the coat, making sure not to touch her hand as he did. “Make yourself at home,” he yelled as he made his way to the closet.

  “Go right to my bedroom,” he wanted to say, but caught himself. What was she trying to do to him? When he returned to the living room she was sitting on the couch, her legs crossed, painted toenails glittering at him. “So,” he wiped his palms down his thighs before sitting down a couple of inches away from her, “I didn’t get a chance to see you at work today. Was everything okay?”

  Reka shifted on the sofa so that she was now facing him, one leg bent on the cushions, the other still resting on the floor. “Well, it started out horrendously. Then I received this note that sort of made that all better.” She smiled at him.

  He smiled in return. “Really? A note from who?”

  Resting her head on a propped up hand, Reka continued to stare at him. He was so handsome. She could look at him for hours and hours and not get tired of his chiseled features. “I don’t really know; he signed it with only his initials. But he gave me a gift.” She paused as her em
otions threatened to take over. “A really thoughtful gift that I will cherish forever.”

  Her normally strong, authoritative voice had changed to a soft, almost vulnerable whisper, and despite his better judgment he moved closer to her. “You should be cherished forever.” With a palm he cupped her cheek, then lowered his head to kiss her softly on the lips.

  “How did you know about the clowns?” she asked, not quite ready to get hot and heavy with him, despite her earlier plans.

  Khalil pulled back but couldn’t stop touching her. His thumb traced the line of her jaw, then ran down her neck to her exposed collarbone. “I saw them at your apartment and figured you liked them a lot from the way you kept them off by themselves. You do like them, don’t you?”

  She nodded. “I’ve always had this thing about clowns. You see, they could always make me smile. No matter what I was going through personally, they never failed to brighten up my day.”

  “But the one I gave you had a sad face.” He frowned.

  Reka shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. That’s his job. Sometimes they act that way only to show you how easy it is to smile. So the outcome is still the same.” His touch was making her dizzy.

  “Next time I’ll buy you one that’s smiling.”

  “You don’t have to buy me things. I’m not like that.” The last thing she wanted him to think was that she was a gold digger or something.

  He’d offended her. “I don’t think you’re like that. I like seeing you smile and seeing you happy. And if buying a clown makes that possible, then that’s what I’ll be doing.”

  She smiled at his words, hoping there was at least some small thread of truth in them. “You’re really kind.”

  Khalil chuckled. “I’ve never had a woman call me kind before.”

  “I know it probably sounds weird, but you are. I don’t know a lot of kind guys.”

  Khalil saw the moment her mind reverted to all the bad men in her life and wanted to erase those thoughts as quickly as possible, so he leaned in and kissed her again, this time teasing her with a taste of his tongue. “It sounds wonderful coming from you.”