Designed for Love

Designed for Love

Yvette Hines

Warning

This
e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. This material is
meant for mature audiences!

Also by Yvette Hines

Santa’s Helper

Speed Dating

The Marriage Clause

One Reckless Night

Holiday Affair

Take This Man

Golden Treasure

Ho, Ho, Ho and a Dom

Bet on a Mistletoe

Making the Man

Lady Justice

Trusting St. Nick

Shot at Love

Internet Rebound

Holiday Fantasy

Timberon Cat Series

Apprehension Series

Designed for Love

A Whispers Publishing Publication

April 15, 2011

Copyright © 2011 Yvette Hines

Cover illustration copyright ©
Anistasia Rabiyah

ISBN Not Assigned

All rights reserved. No part
of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an
information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote
brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the
Web-without permission in writing from the publisher.

All characters in this book
have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation
whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even
distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all
incidents are pure invention.

Published by:
Whispers Publishing
, P.O. Box 1165, Ladson, SC 29456-1165.

DESIGNED FOR
LOVE

By

Yvette Hines

Dedication

Babe, you are always there for me, laughing and listening to my
nutty ideas then saying, “It sounds good to me”. Thanks. To Bridget and Amy,
nothin’ like a little supportive harassment all the way around. Eileen, for all
the great cups of coffee and ears you gave, they’re very much appreciated.

Chapter One

Oh, shit!
That was Chelsi’s first thought as she
guided her grocery cart around the corner of the dairy aisle in haste. The line
had about fifteen customers in it, and there was only one lane open.
It figures
. Where all the people had
come from in the ten minutes she had been inside the market place, she didn’t
know.

     
It
was in the middle of the day, and her plan to run to the store to pick up
sustenance before she starved to death in her condo was failing drastically.
She didn’t need this. She was on deadline, and nothing else mattered but
getting back to her sketches which were scattered all around her place from the
dining room table to the living room, where they had been collecting for the
last three days.

     
Each
slow step she took was deliberate. As she pushed her basket of ten items
towards the register, she continued to glance around. She was hoping that a
manager or someone would call for another lane to be open.

Damn, I don’t
have time for this
.

     
A
movement drew her gaze as she moved closer to lane four where fourteen people waited
in line with an amazingly slow cashier. A baby sitting in a cart tossed out a jar
of something towards the floor, but instead of the loud shatter of it striking
the tile, the quick hand of the customer behind mom and baby caught it.

     
“No,
Jeannie!” The mother screamed as she rounded the cart and grabbed her daughter
who wore a cute pink jumper and red sticky face.

     
The
man returned to his full height and gave the jar to the mother. It gave Chelsi
a chance to notice him, not only because he was tall, at least six four, but
his attire held her transfixed. He wore an impressive tailored navy blue suit
with pink pinstripes, a European cut that molded the strong lines of his body.
It didn’t hang on him as if it were tailored using a clothing dummy. No, that
suit draped along his form like it was supposed to, caressing every muscle as
he moved. He and the suit became one and pleasing to the eye.

     
Chelsi
assessed him. He’d stood to be measured and fitted for that suit, or it was
from a tailor that knew his measurements well. Someone who could create the
exact image the designer wanted to display—success, power, and confidence. A
man had to be confident to wear pink.

     
Nothing
about the man’s clothing struck Chelsi as odd; it fascinated and awed her.
Hell, she was a clothing designer after all, and she admired apparel and
materials like a horny woman would a collection of sex toys. It was arousing.

     
“Ohmygod,
thank you.” The mother oozed with relief as she thanked the man.

     
“You’re
welcome.” A raspy timber, subtle and captivating like a feather tickling your
ear, was the voice that came out of the man. It wasn’t one of those deep Barry
White type sounds but masculine nonetheless. The kind of voice that made a
woman trust him, non-threatening but no less seductive, bringing visions of
lying in bed and having him whisper sexy dirty things in ear.

     
Oh, God, I’ve been alone in my condo for
too long
.

     
“Impressive.”
The woman standing behind him in some green knock-off DKNY Boat neck dress
giggled and smiled. She flipped her
dye-me-red
number five, stringy, thin hair off her shoulder as she leaned into the man.

     
Miss Obvious in lane four
. Chelsi
barely stopped herself from laughing out loud, but she allowed herself the
luxury of rolling her eyes toward the ceiling for a moment.

     
Mister
tailored and dangerous turned to say something to the woman who was practically
breathing on his neck. His jet-black wavy hair was complimented by thick long
lashes that outlined breathtaking pool blue eyes and a face that could have
belonged to an archangel. Kind and strong.

     
Chelsi
didn’t hear a word of what he said because her world stopped, her breathing
halted, her ears clogged like she’d gone too high up the side of a mountain,
and her vision tunneled, centering on the man’s face.

     
Vincent
Poindexter stood less than twenty feet away from her, giving a sexy smile to
the fake chick preening for his attention.

     
Damn it. This couldn’t be happening
. Chelsi took
evasive action and darted to her left down the aisle. She could care less about
the pet items and paper products stacked on the shelves in that area. Oh, no.
Her mind was on the man behind her, a man who’d risen from her past like a
phoenix from the ocean. Changed. Different. Amazing.

     
She
hustled down the aisle and away from Vincent and his admirer, her mind flooded
with images of him and how he looked. Gorgeous and sexy.

     
But
that didn’t fit with the Vincent Poindexter she had known in high school. The
guy that was kind, funny and a geek. Poindexter had been the perfect last name
for the tall, lanky nerd who wore glasses, off colored striped shirts, a pocket
protector, and was president of the math club and co-captain of their school’s
debate team. The one who’d been her high school sweetheart.

     
Chelsi’s
feet halted by the end cap a good distance away from the line of customers. Her
knees were going to buckle; she just knew it. Then she’d be embarrassed if someone
had to call out on the loud speaker “fainter on the pet/paper aisle”.

     
She’d
loved Vincent with all of her heart. They’d been nominated the most unusual
couple. Back then she didn’t care what he looked like or what others had
thought of him. He’d been her math tutor in the eleventh grade, helping her in
economics class, and his gentleness and patience stole her heart.

     
She’d
dealt with the jeers and taunting from her peers who thought she was planning
some big prank being with him. Soon other teens realized they were truly an
item and kept their jokes to a minimum.

     
Now,
the joke was on her. Chelsi glanced down at what she was wearing. She didn’t even
look as good as Miss Knock-off. After three days of designing one sketch after
another for a major contract her company was vying for, she had barely slept,
food had come at a nibble here and a nibble there, and water on any part of her
body hadn’t been a thought at all until forty-five minutes ago. That was the
only thing she could say she did for the sole courtesy of the general public of
Charlotte
.

     
After
cleaning everything from the face down, she’d tossed on her old college t-shirt
that was three sizes too big, usually for the purpose of sleeping in it, and
slipped on a pair of cut off jeans that she normally only donned for spring
cleaning her condo. A hapless knot wrangled her hair into one area of her head,
and her only touch of class was her Stacie Bass blue peacock designer
flip-flops which didn’t match her wretched color scheme at all.

     
The
last thing anyone would think if they saw her now was that she was second
artist to a top designer. She’d worked with the best in
Atlanta
and
New York
before joining her current boss,
and when the head designer of Densa Fashions decided to move their home office
to
North Carolina
,
she’d been happy to come home.

     
Inhaling
substantial amounts of oxygen, Chelsi moved down the back of the store until
she reached the aisle where the line of customers bled into, hoping she would
see that Vincent had purchased his hand basket of items and was gone. Spotting
the top of his thick, neatly trimmed black hair clearly above the other
customers, she could see she was not going to be so lucky.

     
Thank
goodness he had at least resumed facing forward and was no longer talking to
the woman behind him. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket to check the
time. She had less than twenty minutes before she needed to get back home for
the scheduled conference call with her boss and the other members of their
design team.

     
They
were striving hard to win a big clothing line contract which was why she was
working from home. Her boss knew if he wanted her best on a project this big
and new then she needed silence and her own environment. There were four days
left before they had to present.

     
She
couldn’t stand back here and wait Vincent out, and she couldn’t leave her cart
and sneak away either. Her stomach growled, reminding her that her cupboards
were bare. Slow and steady, she pushed her cart until she arrived behind the
last person in line and four people away from Vincent. Leaning on her forearms
on the handle of the basket, she kept her head down, only occasionally peeping
at him.

     
He
looked really good. His body had filled out. Now there was meat covering his
once lanky frame. Maybe she should say muscle by the cut of his suit and his
broad shoulders. No padding there. She admired the way he still held himself—tall
and confident.

     
Even
as a dorky teenager, Vincent had walked with pride in his stride. It had been
one of the things classmates teased him about. He’d moved through the halls
like he knew he was going to be somebody important one day. Evidently, he’d
been right.

     
Had
he moved back to Charlotte as well? Nowadays, everyone was moving to
Charlotte
. It was one of
the fastest growing cities on the East Coast.

     
Man,
if she was going to run into him, why couldn’t it be on a day she didn’t have
three days growth of stubble on her legs or she had on a little make-up? In her
memory of rushing out of her house, she vaguely recalled passing some ChapStick
over her lips.

     
Finally,
Vincent paid the slow cashier who had to be all of twenty, if she wasn’t
nineteen, standing there chatting him up with her bleached snow white hair with
fluorescent pink tips. The girl ooh’d and ahh’d at everything he said, echoed
by Miss Knock-off behind him who was trying once again for his attention.

     
Taking
his change, he gave a dazzling smile to the cashier and headed out the door.
Once the automatic doors slid closed behind him, Chelsi breathed easier. She
was home free now.

     
Amazingly,
at that time, another lane opened up, and she made a mad dash to it, not caring
what people thought of her. This older lady was fast and efficient, except for
the “hello, did you find everything you needed today?” question, she remained
silent. While Lexi continued to chat up the costumers in the lane next to her.

     
When
Chelsi’s total came up, she had her card at the ready and swiped it quickly.

     
“Excuse
me, Lexi, you gave me too much change.”

Oh, God, no!

     
Chelsi
claimed her receipt and grabbed her bags as she looked up at the man she’d been
trying to avoid for the last fifteen minutes. All of it had been for nothing
because he stared directly at her while he handed “Chatty Lexi” a twenty dollar
bill.

     
“Thanks.”
Lexi smiled and batted her mascara thick lashes as she took the money. Chelsi
wouldn’t put it past Lexi to have given him the money purposely so that he
would come back in.

     
Vincent
gave the cashier an absent nod but didn’t take his eyes off Chelsi. “Chelsi
Halifax.”

     
“Hi,
Vincent.” The thought of pretending as if she didn’t know who he was never
entered her mind. She felt just as giddy and flushed as she had the first day
he’d sat down beside her in the library to tutor her. It had confounded her
then as it did now.

“It’s
really good to see you.”

     
Why
did he have to say that? It just reminded her that she was not dressed for
reunions. “Hhm, yea…”

     
“Excuse
me.” The customer in line bumped her out of the way as he squeezed by her.

     
Stumbling
forward, Chelsi felt the warmth of Vincent’s hand as he caught her arm, keeping
her from looking any more like an idiot. Goodness, he smelled good.

     
Gone
was the sporty fresh scent from years past. Now he smelled male. That was the
best way she could describe the rich, spicy scent. It was almost animalistic.
It brought to her mind images of wild animals mating in the forest, uninhibited.
She could plainly understand why all the women were falling over themselves to
get his attention. Vincent was a large walking pheromone.

     
It
was no wonder he made her body feel as if she’d gone into heat just being a
foot away from him with his hand holding her arm. The urge to throw herself in
his arms, wrap her legs around his waist, and beg him to satisfy her was
ridiculous.