She shook her head to clear it and opened her e-mail, anxious to see if her membership to e.Vampire.com had been accepted. There was unopened e-mail from the site. Her heart pounded. She took a deep breath and clicked on the e-mail.
“Oh you’ve
got
to be
kiddin
g me!”
On the screen, in large red letters was the word
Rejected
.
Her emotions were churning. Her confidence was the first to plummet. She wasn’t good enough for any of those men, especially Dorian Taylor. She felt sad as well, knowing she’d
never see the man again; a man who’d affected her like no other. And finally, anger seeped in.
She got up and slammed the laptop shut. “Fuck e.Vampire.com! And fuck Dorian Taylor too!”
Chapter 7
Jennifer was glad it was Saturday. The thought of having to face Julie, Mary Lou and Suzanne made her heartsick. This time she had no quirky, funny stories to tell. Friday night had been a humiliating disaster.
She padded around the apartment in a daze, w
earing her ridiculously unsexy Tasmanian devil slippers and a tattered old tee shirt. She went into the kitchen, opened the fridge and took out a full box of
Drakes Funny Bones, went to the DVD player and popped in
The Bridges of
Madison County
.
Terms of Endearment, Beaches
and
Love Story
were stacked next to the player ready to go.
She wrapped her afghan around her and sat with a box of tissues and the junk food, intending to have a good old fashioned pity party.
Her cell phone blinked annoyingly, letting her know she had messages. She ignored it. Then, the texting began. It was Julie.
Just checking in. Are you OK?
Jennifer didn’t reply.
Jen please text or call me back or I’m coming over!
Jennifer sighed.
May as well text her back or I’ll have no peace
.
Yeah, I’m fine. Just going to chill out today. Talk later.
She didn’t want to let on that she was emotionally shattered by both Dorian Taylor and his stupid company’s rejections.
The text sounded again.
I was worried about you after that rude prick blew you off like that
.
Glad you’re okay.
The hell with Dorian Taylor!
Apparently, Julie knew what she was feeling and why.
Thanks Julie. See you on Monday.
She added a little smiley face to appease her. There. That would stop any further texts. And it did. Now back to the party.
She was half-way through her third Funny Bone, sobbing at the scene in which Meryl Streep was sitting in the truck with her
husband, her hand on the door handle. Knowing her one true love was waiting for her to make a decision. Would she go away with him or stay in her marriage? She lets go of the handle, weeping and watches the love of her life leave forever. Jennifer sobbed at the scene. She always did, no matter how many times she watched it.
The sound of the doorbell caught her off guard. She ignored it. Again it rang, and yet again. Still she didn’t answer. Finally, who
ever was out there began knocking on the door and wouldn’t stop.
“Go away!” she shouted through her sobs. The mascara from the previous night had pooled under her eyes, making her look like a raccoon. She didn’t care who it was. She wasn’t letting them in.
She heard a muffled male voice. “Ms. Reese. It’s Ian Devereaux. I have an important delivery for you. Please, it’s urgent.”
Ian Devereaux was standing outside her door.
What in hell was he doing here? Oh my God, they’ve come for the mask!
She thought. But he’d said he was delivering something.
“Just leave it at the door and I’ll get it later.” She didn’t budge.
“Sorry. I can’t do that. I have strict orders from Mr. Taylor to deliver this to you in person.”
Something from Dorian Taylor?
Just hearing his name caused her heart to quicken. What was it about that guy that made her blood feel as if it was on fire?
“
Give me a minute.”
Jennifer flew off the couch, brushed at her tangled hair and quickly threw on a pair of shorts and a tank top
.
She was
completely surprised when she opened the door. Ian held an enormous bouquet of the most beautiful roses she’d ever seen.
“These are for you.” He handed them to her.
Her mouth opened in utter shock, tentatively, she smelled the flower’s powerful aroma.
“Those are a very rare species of rose,” Ian said.
He also gave her a small white envelope with her name written out in long hand. The penmanship was impeccable.
“Please open it, Ms. Reese.”
Her hands trembled as she opened an invitation from him.
Dear Ms. Reese,
First allow me to apologize for my abrupt departure last evening. I could tell you something came up, but I offer no excuse for my rude behavior. Please accept this invitation to dine with me this evening at 8:00 pm. I shall send a driver to pick you up. I hope you enjoy the roses. I chose them because I found them as rare and beautiful as I find you.
Sincerely,
Dorian Taylor
Wow, as rare and beautiful as he finds me
!
Although, she was still angry with him (just a little) she didn’t kid herself. She was definitely going tonight.
She buried her face in the roses, dreaming of what might happen tonight. She was nervous, excited and even a little scared.
“Uh-hum.” Ian cleared his throat as if to remind her he still existed.
“I’m sorry, Ian. Where are my manners? Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?”
“No thank you, Ma’am. I have to report back to Mr. Taylor as soon as you accept the invitation.”
“How did he know I’d accept?”
“Because if you didn’t, I’d be standing here until you
did
.” He smiled that disarming smile of his.
“Geez, do you do everything at that company? Aren’t you the CFO? And now you’re running errands. Don’t you ever sleep?”
He shrugged “That’s my official title, but I’m also Mr. Taylor’s personal assistant.”
“So, what should I wear tonight? The invitation doesn’t say where we’ll be going.”
“I’d suggest something informal.”
“Are we going somewhere on the beach?”
“No. You will be joining Mr. Taylor for dinner at his home this evening.”
Chapter 8
At 7:30 pm, a shiny, black stretch limo parked outside. Jennifer watched from the window where she’d been standing for the last hour, that was when she wasn’t running to the bathroom to check her hair, make-up and dress.
After trying on virtually everything in her closet, s
he’d finally chosen a pale green sun dress, simple gold loop earrings and dark green, bejeweled sandals. Her bed was littered with clothes and accessories.
As expected,
Ms. Prudinsky made snarky comments about Jennifer’s behavior.
“You’re a sap, a silly girl acting like a love sick teen-ager. The man humiliates you and still you go running, no chasing after him like a bitch in heat. Show some dignity!”
“Just shut up. I’m going to enjoy every minute of this night,” Jennifer muttered aloud. God, the woman
, who was in reality nothing more than her subconscious was annoying.
The driver got out. She’d expected Ian, but it was another man, a refined looking blond.
She restrained herself from rushing to the car. It was pretty damn difficult. Within the hour, she’d be in the same room with the man of her dreams.
The limo driver was silent during the entire ride, which suited Jennifer just fine. She thought of what she’d say and how she’d act in Dorian’s presence.
When they pulled into the enormous peach and cream paved driveway, Jennifer felt extremely anxious. The house was a rambling, multi-story Mediterranean style mansion. The walls were an elegant pale sea-shell color, complete with a balcony and a terra-cotta tile roof. She saw the ocean glittering in the moonlight on both sides of the house.
There was no property close enough to obstruct the magnificent view.
Of course, he’d own an ocean front property. He’s filthy
rich!
Two massive queen palms stood on each side of the entryway, illuminated by soft green lighting. Birds of paradise, hibiscus, and all manner of tropical plants adorned the sides. Soft white lights ran along the front and sides of the house.
Dorian Taylor stood waiting in the large open foyer as the chauffeur helped her out of the limo and led her to him.
“Ms. Reese. I’m pleased you accepted my invitation.” He kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Please come in.” He extended his hand to her and she took it, marveling at the feel of his skin against hers.
He was dressed in a tight black tee-shirt, low waist blue jeans and was barefoot. The contrast between the black shirt, his icy
blue eyes and the shine of his unruly black hair was completely stunning.
Hmm . . . black hair and blue eyes. God certainly knew what he was doing when he’d created that
combination,
thought Jennifer. If it was possible, he looked even better than he had in the stylish suit he’d worn last night.
They walked into a massive front room. The floor was laid with black and white terrazzo. High above her head, was a multi-tiered, shimmering, crystal chandelier and everywhere there was plants and statues, all manner of artwork, ornately carved marble and wood tables which held various lamps, all giving off the same light glow. Jennifer was awestruck by it all. That she was here in this virtual Heaven with this God of a man was unreal.
“How do you like my humble home?” He smiled, revealing dimples below his exquisitely chiseled cheekbones. His teeth were white and perfect.
“
It’s lovely. Thank you for inviting me.” She tried to keep her voice calm, as if she went to places like this all the time and was in the company of men like him on a regular basis.
Unfortunately, she heard a tremble in her voice and was sure he’d heard it too.
He led her to a room at the back of the house. She gasped when she saw the panoramic view. The entire rear wall was made of glass. The view of the ocean was breathtaking.
“Please, sit down and make yourself at home. Can I get you a drink? Perhaps a glass of wine? I have a fine Merlot you might enjoy.”
“That would be nice.” She sat in one of the two wicker chairs closest to the window and gazed out at the ocean. The peaks of the surf glittered in the moonlight.
“Dinner will be ready within the hour. My chef is preparing it as we speak.”
She watched him walk out of the room in that confident, graceful and utterly sexy way in which he moved.
He came back with two goblets of wine, handed her one and sat on the wicker love seat up against the side wall, facing the middle of the room. “Come, sit with me.”
She sat next to him on the small love seat. They were so close their thighs touched. He put one arm around the back of the couch and rested his hand lightly on her shoulder. She was so nervous. She sipped her wine without looking at him. Gently, he moved sideways, put his drink down, took hers as well and put them on the end table.
“Look at me.” His voice was soft and direct. He crooked his index finger under her chin, tilting her head so she had to look directly into his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat. His gaze was so intense.
God!
He held her completely spellbound with those eyes.