Authors: Jayne Kingston
He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, but he was
laughing.
“I don’t doubt that it has.”
She gripped the tails of his scarf and went up on her toes
so they were almost nose to nose. “But?”
He chuckled. “No but.”
“That’s what I thought,” she said and released him. Then
clutched his scarf and pulled him close again. Her mind blanked when he got
even closer than before. Instinct and desire to kiss him threatened to take
over whatever rational thought she had left.
“Yes?” he asked mildly.
“Thank you.” She let go and fixed his scarf. “For
everything.”
“You’re welcome.” He went around her to open the passenger
door. “Not that you need to thank me. I got out of a day’s worth of boring
paperwork in exchange for a night out in Chicago with a certifiable bombshell.”
Oh yeah. He was totally getting laid later.
“How do you know my mother is going to be there?” Even as
she teased him she thrilled at the compliment.
Without missing a beat he said, “Lucky guess.”
“Well this must be a lucky day for both of us,” she said and
climbed into the seat.
The gallery had a prime location in a small storefront in
the heart of Chicago’s famous Magnificent Mile, but the crowd was quite a bit
less stuffy than he’d seen at openings he’d been to in the past. There were the
usual handful of old-money art benefactors who took themselves way too
seriously, but there was a good mix of younger, more down-to-earth artist types
as well.
And it was a good thing he did well in crowds because he’d
hardly seen Joy all evening. For that matter, he’d hardly spoken to her since
they’d left his house hours ago. She’d spent most of the three-and-a-half-hour
ride on her phone with her family, who had to be the worst grapevine ever.
From what he’d overheard, the broken axle on her car had
turned into her getting into an accident, which quickly turned into her
clinging desperately to life, alone in a hospital bed hundreds of miles from
home.
She’d laughed about just turning her phone off for a while,
but she was also dealing with the photographer she’d hired so she could attend
her sister’s big evening as a guest. Since the photographer had called her
constantly throughout the drive, turning off her phone wasn’t an option.
After they’d arrived at her Lakeshore Drive condo she’d
deposited him in a guest room, which had an attached bathroom of its own, and
then disappeared. Thinking he had time, he hadn’t hurried about getting ready,
but she’d been waiting for him when he joined her in her living room no more
than fifteen minutes later.
She hadn’t done anything more than freshen up her makeup,
change into a knee-weakening little black dress and pin a large red flower
behind her right ear at the base of her ponytail. She looked just as stunning
as he imagined she would have if she’d taken hours to get ready.
They’d met her family at dinner before the opening. He was a
little worried he would be crashing a private celebration, but there had to
have been more than twenty people already at the table when they arrived. On
time, no less. She’d introduced him to her sisters and mother—who’d thrown her
arms around him, and thanked him profusely in Spanish.
Truly, he hadn’t minded that part one bit. Not only was
Angelina Pope one of his all-time favorite blues singers, the woman really was
a complete knockout. And while Joy was by far the most beautiful, vivacious and
incredibly sexy of the three sisters, Mama Pope had blessed all three of her
daughters with her incredible genetics.
Middle sister Sunny had an almost androgynous look to her,
with her dark curls cut short and a less-is-more approach to makeup that made
her that much more captivating. The dark pantsuit she was wearing just barely
concealed her curves, but they were definitely there.
Youngest sister Love was the glamour girl, with her hair dyed
a caramel-colored blonde, cat’s-eye black eyeliner and vivid-red lips. She was
wearing a low-cut, floor-length dress in the same shade of red that left every
single one of her curves on display.
Leo had no idea how Sunny’s husband Greg survived family get-togethers
without stroking out from lack of blood to the brain in his skull.
And Joy…he could hardly see straight every time she got
within ten feet of him. She’d blown through the door of Lust for Life early
that afternoon and he hadn’t had a clear thought in his head since. The woman
was the embodiment of raw sex. And his physical reaction to her—to the sound of
her smoky voice, her spicy scent, the touch of her hand—shook him to his core.
Throughout the evening she would appear at his side, drag
him to this person or that group and introduce him by saying, “This is
Leonardo,” with that sexy little Spanish twist she kept putting on his name.
She’d follow it with a pregnant pause before adding “from Grind” as though the
person she was introducing him to should know exactly what that meant.
Even funnier was the way most people acted as though they
did.
If they’d been in Detroit, or even in parts of New York City
where his band had become popular he might have believed some of the younger
crowd knew who he was. But the band’s following in Chicago was small and
consisted mostly of people in their late teens and early twenties who’d been
raised on their parents’ grunge. If he was going to guess, a large number of
the present crowd leaned toward blues, jazz or opera.
For Leo, the second biggest thrill of the night, after
getting an eyeful of Joy in that dress she was wearing, was getting to meet her
father. John Pope was a soft-spoken, elegant man whose legendary career as a
blues producer and highly sought-after studio musician was almost five decades
long.
Leo had no idea how long they’d been standing in the corner
talking music when he caught sight of Joy watching them from across the room.
His gaze locked on hers for a long moment. He watched her set aside her
half-f glass of wine on a nearby table without looking. She headed through
the crowd toward them as if she was moving in slow motion, never dropping her
eyes from his.
It took him a long moment to realize John had stopped
talking.
Leo turned back to her father and muttered a weak apology.
“It’s quite all right,” John said, his gaze drifting between
Leo and his daughter. “It still happens to me when I look at her mother.”
He flinched, his mind spinning for an explanation. Surely he
hadn’t meant
that.
“Dad, I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to steal your new
friend for a few minutes.” She looked up at Leo with an odd kind of light in
her eyes. “Do you mind?”
The question was rhetorical, of course. She’d already hooked
her arm through his and was leading him away.
“Where are we going?” he whispered close to her ear.
She didn’t look at him. “You’ll see.”
They were making their way through the crowd, past the bar
near the back of the room, heading toward doors that were nearly invisible,
they were so well camouflaged as part of the wall.
“This is nice,” he said as they stepped into a deserted
hallway. It was as bland as the exhibit in the gallery itself was colorful.
Without missing a beat she said, “This is the best part of
the place.”
She hung a sharp right at the end of the hall, stepped up
one step leading to the second floor and turned. Suddenly his arms were full of
her. She pressed her curvy body against his, buried her fingers in his hair and
kissed him with that lush mouth of hers. His head reeled as all the blood in
his body rushed directly to his cock.
He wrapped his arms around her and drew her close, instantly
drowning in her kiss, her exotic scent, her heat. She was moving against him as
though she couldn’t hold still, and his thoughts filled with images of her
riding him, wild and out of control.
She broke free with a gasp. “God, I’ve wanted to do that
since I walked through the door of your shop earlier.”
“We would still be at my house if you had,” he assured her.
“Where did you come from?” Her eyes scanned his face as
though she was seeing him for the first time. “You rescued me in a big way this
afternoon. My mother can’t stop raving about you. And my father…” She shook her
head, the look in her eyes reverent. “He can’t stop talking
to
you. He never
stays at these kinds of things this long.”
Her grip tightened in his hair, sending an electric thrill
through his body and rendering him speechless.
“Who are you, Leonardo?” She nipped at his bottom lip then
touched the tip of her tongue to the same spot. “What kind of spell have you
cast over me?”
Both were unanswerable questions.
He cradled the back of her head and brought her mouth to his
again. He needed more of her, of her taste, her tongue. It was going to be
impossible to stop if he didn’t rein himself in, but like the addict he was, he
headed straight for the point of no control instead.
She moaned as he angled her head so he could kiss her
deeper, slide his tongue into the delicious, wet heat of her mouth, taking her
slowly and then relentlessly until she was clinging to him for dear life. He
needed to stop. He was unbelievably hard, almost to the point he wasn’t going
to be able to come down without having her.
And then she slid her hands between them and pushed against
his chest, putting just enough space between their bodies that they were no
longer touching.
“I’m sorry,” she panted, her tongue sliding along her
kiss-swollen lower lip. Blood surged to his cock in response. “I didn’t mean to
get so carried away.”
Her hypnotic eyes raised from his mouth to meet his gaze.
“Let’s get out of here.” The naughty smile she gave him had
a dizzying effect. She combed her fingers through his hair and smoothed the
lapels of his jacket. “The party is starting to wind down anyway. Let’s go say
our goodbyes?”
“I’m going to need a minute alone,” he told her, resisting
when she took his hand and started to lead him back to the party.
She blinked, then gave him a knowing smile. “Don’t take too
long.”
He lifted her hand and kissed her palm. “Go. I’ll be out
shortly.”
She narrowed her eyes at him as though she was going to say
something, then didn’t. He watched her sashay around the corner, unable to look
away from the swing of her hips until he couldn’t see her any longer. And then
he slumped against the wall, took in several deep breaths and tried to think of
anything but Joy naked.
Something about the room was different when he rejoined the
party a couple of minutes later. The live jazz band was still playing, and the
crowd was still murmuring amongst themselves, but there was a different kind of
tension in the air.
As Leo came around a wall into the main area of the room, he
immediately noticed the difference. There was a man he hadn’t seen among the
guests before, and that man had his arm around Joy, his hand resting lightly on
the small of her back.
She didn’t look at all comfortable to have it resting there.
In fact, if he wasn’t mistaken, he would say she looked frightened.
But was she frightened of the man, or frightened of being
found out she had a boyfriend after the way she’d just behaved with Leo in the
back hallway?
“Oh, darling,” she breathed, sounding too relieved as he
walked over. “There you are.”
She stepped away from the other man and slipped under Leo’s
arm. Leo didn’t miss the way her sister Love’s eyebrows went up. He was a
little shocked himself. She’d had her arm around him off and on all night, but
not like this.
“Leonardo, this is Bruce Allen. He’s an old friend of my
family,” she explained with a terse smile. “Bruce, Leonardo Jones.”
Leo extended his hand, feeling more than a little like a
puppet. Allen gave his hand a disdainful glance before shaking it with an
almost comical reluctance.
“Bruce is CEO of Blue Suede Shoes Records. His father-in-law
signed my mother years ago when she was just an eighteen-year-old girl.”
So he was married. Not that marriage meant much to some.
“I have a copy of Angelina’s first record in my collection,”
Leo told him conversationally, trying to hide the way his temper was starting
to rise at the smirk on the older man’s face.
That smirk was pure evil. And when the man’s eyes shifted to
Joy and filled with malice, Leo had to resist the very real, very primal urge
to punch the fucker’s lights out.
“First runs of that record are extremely rare.” Bruce held Joy’s
gaze a moment longer, then his beady eyes made an oily slide back. “I’d like to
see that some time.”
“It’s in Ohio, where I live. I’m sure I won’t remember you
asking by the time I get back.” He smiled as innocently as possible and added,
“Late tomorrow afternoon.”
His gut told him he shouldn’t be provoking the guy, but he
couldn’t seem to help himself. Joy tightened her grip on his waist.
“Bruce, Leonardo and I were just leaving,” she told him,
reaching for Love’s hand.
“It’s a shame you couldn’t make it earlier,” Leo said to
Bruce. “It would have been interesting to talk shop. My band is about to
release our second CD with Motor City Records out of Detroit.”
That seemed to spark some genuine interest. Bruce narrowed
his already beady eyes. “What did you say the name of your band was?”
Leo shook his head. “I didn’t.” He turned to Love.
“Beautiful exhibit. I’ll have to bring my mother back some time soon. She would
absolutely love your work.”
He kissed her on the cheek and waited while Joy hugged her,
whispering something in her ear as she did.
“Good to meet you, Bruce,” he said, not shaking hands,
before he steered Joy away to the coat closet.
He was quiet as they waited for a taxi. He didn’t mind her
huddling against him for warmth, but the magic that had been sparking between
them all day had dimmed.
“Thank you for playing along,” she said quietly once they
were in a taxicab and on their way back to her apartment.
It took him a minute to speak. “Is that why you asked me to
come along, because you need an extra in whatever game you were just playing
with him?”
From the corner of his eye he could see her turn to fully
face him.
“I invited you because I want you here with me.”
“To put that guy off. You know, sometimes just saying no
works.”
She turned back to the window and was quiet for a long
moment.
“You’re assuming quite a bit, don’t you think?”
He looked at her. “Is he giving you trouble?”
She didn’t look back. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Joy, I could tell from the first second I laid eyes on him
that he isn’t the kind of man who takes no for an answer. Is he threatening
you?”
Her lips pressed into a tight line.
“Not me specifically.” She hung her head and picked at her
fingernails.
He turned to look out his own window as he thought. “Your
mother?”