His Reluctant Lover (6 page)

Overall, just sitting and talking with a beautiful woman was a novel and extremely enjoyable experience. 

Other customers came into the store, some even enjoyed their ice cream at the tables nearby, but none broke through the cocoon that they had woven between them.  It wasn’t until the store clerk came over and told him he needed to lock up for the night that Georgette and Dylan realized how much time had passed.

“Oh, goodness,” she said, looking at her delicate watch.  “I hadn’t realized it was almost midnight.” 

She quickly stood up, all that nervousness coming right back as she realized she’d have to get back into the limousine with Dylan.  She didn’t want to.  She had enjoyed being with him, talking with him, without that sexual tension pulling them together. 

“I’ll take you home,” he said and put a hand to the small of her back, leading her out of the ice cream parlor.  She hesitated, but his eyes didn’t have any of that heat.  It was just the two of them. 

“Thanks,” she finally said and stepped into the dark interior.  She sat on the seat, her body tense and nervous.  He wasn’t going to kiss her again, was he? 

She was shaking just thinking about the possibility.  She wasn’t aware of her body shifting, turning towards him.  Nor was she aware of her fingers twisting nervously on her lap. 

Dylan noticed it though.  So when they arrived at her house, he stepped out, extending his hand to help her.  Once again, she hesitated before accepting his help but he waited, knowing now that she couldn’t simply ignore his hand.  Her nature wouldn’t let her. 

Sure enough, she put her hand gently into his and stepped out of the limousine.  The short walk from her driveway to her front door was filled with an awareness of the two of them.  Georgette kept trying to remind herself that this wasn’t the man for her, that he was wrong for what she wanted in her life.  But her body wasn’t responding to that message from her brain.  Her body was remembering that kiss outside the building and then again in the car.  She was transfixed, wondering what he was going to do. 

She should get inside quickly, she told herself.  She shouldn’t even wait for him to make a move, she told herself firmly.  A kiss would be trouble.  But fitting her keys into the lock was more difficult than she remembered.  When she finally accomplished the seemingly simple task, she turned around to tell him thank you.  Unfortunately, he had a different way to end the night. 

Dylan knew what she was going to do and wasn’t going to allow it.  When she turned around, he simply took her into his arms.  Instead of allowing her to brush him off, his mouth covered hers and he kissed her gently, surprising her once again. 

It was only a brief kiss, but it was astonishing in its impact.  She stared up at him, not sure if she wanted to ask for more or if she should turn and run inside. 

“Thank you for your escort tonight, Georgette.  I look forward to the next event in which you help me.” 

It felt so good to be held in his arms.  He was so strong, so muscular and her body seemed to fit perfectly against his.  So when he released her and walked down the sidewalk to his car, she felt…bereft.  Cheated! 

Darn it!  She wasn’t this woman, she told herself.  Turning away from his broad back, she stomped inside, not sure what to think anymore.  The man was a complete mystery and she should just push him out of her mind.

Unfortunately, her mind wasn’t cooperating.  Her mind decided that a night in his arms and by his side, his powerful and gentle kisses teetering her on the brink of confusion or insanity, wasn’t enough.  Her mind decided to torment her in her sleep.  Dreams of Dylan raced through her sleep.  Whipped cream and chocolate syrup along with passionate kisses that obliterated her common sense, caused her to wake up gasping for air, her sheets tangled around her legs and her body throbbing for something…she wasn’t sure what it was.  She’d never felt this…aware!

Looking at the clock, she realized it was only a quarter to five in the morning.  She didn’t normally wake up until well after seven since she didn’t need to be at her boutique until around nine.  Her assistant opened the store but she still tried to get there about the same time.

But this morning, she knew she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep.  Nor did she want to.  Not after that dream.  She was actually embarrassed about how vivid, how erotic her dreams had been last night.  They were shameful, especially since Charles was supposed to be back in town tomorrow.  Maybe even today. 

She sighed and turned on the shower.  She’d just have to work extra hard to avoid Dylan from now on.  She’d tell her grandfather that she wasn’t able to escort his friend around, needing to keep her distance from Dylan.  Besides, her grandfather could do the escorting.  He’d been at the gala last night and he knew all the same people. 

Georgette walked into the elegant restaurant, breathing a sigh of relief when the cool air hit her skin.  New Orleans was renowned for being hot and humid.  But there was something about this summer that just seemed to be especially oppressive. 

She loved this restaurant.  The elegant lines, the black, wrought iron bannisters and the white décor perfectly highlighted everything that was great and wonderful about New Orleans.  It had elegance and refinement, but there was a stirring, passionate decadence throbbing underneath.  The food was excellent and intense while the wait staff was almost reverent as they served the Creole delicacies. 

“Good afternoon, Ms. Charding,” the maître‘d said as Georgette stepped through the entry doors. 

“Good Afternoon, Andrew,” she replied with a smile.  “How are the kids doing this summer?  Driving Cheryl crazy?” she asked, referring to his wife. 

Andrew chuckled softly, bowing his head slightly.  “They are exceptionally exuberant this summer,” he replied, a polite way of agreeing that they were indeed, driving his wife crazy with their energy and excitement at being out for the summer.  “Mr. Henson has arrived and is waiting at the table.”

With that, he led the way through the restaurant, stopping at her favorite table right under the Palladian window so she could look down into the courtyard.  Several diners preferred to sit outside but Georgette chose to avoid the afternoon heat and Charles didn’t like it either so he wouldn’t deign to eat outside in this kind of heat and humidity. 

“Hello, darling,” Charles stood as soon as she arrived.  He took her hands and kissed her cheek gently, then politely waited until Georgette was seated before once again taking his own chair.  “You look lovely, as always.”

She surveyed Charles, admiring the man physically.  He was very tall, but where Dylan was brawny, Charles was more…lithe.  There was no way she could say that he was slender because Charles could hold his own in the muscles department.  They just weren’t as bulging as Dylan’s were, she supposed.  But Charles was a very handsome man.  Some said he was cold and hard, but he never appeared that way towards her.  And the rumors about him being a tough businessman?  Well, she just didn’t see it.  Charles was simply too…nice! 

Georgette smiled at the compliment as she opened her menu, but wondered if he was sincere.  Charles was a sweet, kind man and they’d been seeing each other romantically for a couple of months now.  He worked in his father’s bank as a vice president and he was very nice, in a traditionally handsome way.  Georgette found herself wondering if Dylan’s unspoken compliments of the previous night were more sincere than the platitudes of her boyfriend. 

When she realized what she was doing, she shook her head and looked down at the menu.  Charles was a very kind man, exactly the kind of man she would choose to spend the rest of her life with.  He was polite, considerate, smart and knew the rules by which they all lived.  He would never stare at her like…well, like she was his dessert! 

Taking a deep breath, she closed her menu.  Why she’d even looked at it, she didn’t know.  She always ordered the same thing, the strawberry salad.  It was sweet and sour and a perfect meal for the afternoon so it wouldn’t weigh her down while trying to work later in the day. 

Charles chuckled when she laid her menu down on the table.  “Strawberry salad?” he asked. 

Georgette was just about to reply when Charles abruptly glanced over her shoulder, standing up politely as someone approached.  “Dylan!” he called out. 

Georgette froze with that name.  Surely the man wasn’t here!  Impossible! 

But then she felt that tingling.  She hated that tingling!  She’d felt it the night of the gala and then again this morning after waking up from those dreams!  She couldn’t stand the sensation!  It was like her skin was on fire and she wanted to run her fingers….stop!  She almost groaned when she realized where her mind had gone in that split second of awareness. 

She was not this kind of woman!  She was calm and cool, collected and refined!  She was not the kind of woman who wanted to be ravished by…anyone!  Especially not a man who looked fierce and terrifying as he looked down at her. 

“Georgette,” Dylan greeted her softly, lifting her hand to his lips. 

She gasped when he nibbled on her fingers.  Actually nibbled!  What kind of outrageous man would do something so…crazy, in a place like this!  A polite kiss was all that was required, but no!  He had to go way beyond the expected.  Nibbling! 

Her mind drifted as her anger fired up once more.  She absolutely would not think about what he’d nibbled in her dreams last night!  She couldn’t!  It was too… wicked!

She snapped her hand out of his.  “Good afternoon, Dylan.  How are you today?”

His eyes were sparkling, looking down at her with a strange emotion.  Was that anger, she wondered?  Surely not!  He had no reason to be angry with her.  They were mere acquaintances!  A few stolen kisses did not give him the right to be angry.  She’d told him that she was dating Charles so having lunch with him was completely appropriate. 

“Would you possibly have time to join us for lunch?” Charles was asking, oblivious to the silent messages going back and forth between Georgette and Dylan.

Dylan maintained eye contact with Georgette, saw the look of horror pop into her eyes and smiled.  “We would love to join you for lunch, Charlie,” he said and stood up, finally releasing Georgette from the manacles of his look. 

Charles chuckled at the new nickname and Georgette was shocked that he wouldn’t reprimand the taller man for being so casual.  “He prefers Charles,” she said in her boyfriend’s stead. 

Charles had already signaled to the waiter.  “Charlie is perfectly fine,” he corrected.  “Mr. Alfieri and his guest are joining us for lunch,” he explained to the waiter. 

It took only a few moments for another table to be pulled closer.  When everyone was seated once again, Georgette glared at the woman next to her.  She instantly didn’t like the blond woman with the glossy, smooth hair and the crisp, professional looking business suit.  And no woman could actually walk around in heels that high!  Georgette took malicious comfort in knowing that the woman’s feet were most likely aching. 

“Hello,” the blond bimbo said, extending her hand to Charles.  “I’m Brenda.”

“Charles Henson,” he replied, taking her hand delicately over the table. “And this is Georgette Charding.”

Blond Bimbo turned and gave Georgette a slight smile and tilt of her head in acknowledgement before opening her menu.  “What’s good here?” she asked.

Georgette looked across the table and was startled to find Dylan looking directly at her.  With a black eyebrow raised, he held the menu in his hand but didn’t look at the options. 

“Everything is delicious,” she replied back, more to his silent query than Blond Bimbo Brenda’s question. 

“No specific recommendations?” he asked.

“I imagine that you can figure out what you like and don’t like all on your own,” Georgette said.

Charles was looking at Georgette as if she’d lost her head.  “Georgette is just kidding,” he told Dylan with a strange glance across the table at her.  “She absolutely loves the strawberry salad.  We were just talking about how she orders it every time she comes here.”

Dylan’s eyes hadn’t moved from Georgette’s.  “So you don’t like trying something different and probably more interesting?”

She stiffened at his characterization of Charles as boring and sedate.  “I just know what I like.  Why would I try something different when what I like is perfectly fine?”

“Because perhaps you need to venture out and experiment.  Perhaps you’ve had the strawberry salad too many times and now you need to try something like the jambalaya or maybe even crab cakes.”

Georgette’s hands fisted under the table, but she maintained a perfectly serene smile on her face.  “I don’t think I need to change.  There’s something to be said for consistency.  When I find something I like, I stick with it.  I’m never disappointed.”

“Ah, so you’re afraid of disappointment.”

“We’ll need another moment,” Charles told the waiter. 

Georgette was almost bristling with anger.  “I’ve been disappointed before.  Why would I try something new?”

“Are we still talking about the menu?” Blond Bimbo Brenda asked, smiling with all of her perfectly white teeth showing. 

Charles shrugged his shoulders, not sure what was going on.  “Maybe you’d like to try the jambalaya?” he suggested to Georgette.

She quickly shook her head.  “No.  You know I don’t like spicy foods.  I prefer the subtle sweetness of the strawberry salad, Charles.”

Dylan’s eyes flashed again before he countered, “What she’s really saying is that she likes the safe meal.  She doesn’t want to venture into too many danger zones.  Perhaps the shrimp and grits might be great, but she won’t even try them because…”

“I hate grits,” she snapped, interrupting him and causing Charles to frown and Blond Bimbo Brenda to gasp at such heresy.  She looked at the other two, feeling horribly self-conscious now.  “I mean, I don’t like grits in general.  The texture…” she finished lamely.  To admit to something so horrible as hating grits!  Well, no true southerner would ever admit to anything so wrong! 

She glared back at Dylan, putting all the blame for her blasphemous admission on his ridiculously broad shoulders.  “Besides, at least I know what I like.  I don’t pretend to enjoy the strawberry salad when what I really want is the spicy shrimp.”

Dylan glanced at Brenda, understanding what Georgette was telling him.  She thought he was dating Brenda?  He threw back his head and laughed, shaking his head at such a ridiculous assumption.  Brenda was his finance manager, was married with four kids.  She was only here overnight to survey the land for tax assessments.  But Georgette’s jealousy gave him hope!  It was an excellent sign. 

Georgette crossed her arms over her chest and glared furiously at the man who was now laughing at her. 

“I’m not sure what’s so funny about strawberry salad versus spicy shrimp.  They’re in two completely different categories, as far as I’m concerned, but I think we should order lunch before someone starts maligning the crème brûlée.”

Brenda was in full agreement and opened her menu once again.  The waiter magically appeared and the blond ordered the strawberry salad.  Georgette was too irritated that the woman had ordered her favorite, which meant she would look ridiculous if she ordered it as well.  Besides, there was something inside of her telling her to be different.  There was also the issue that she absolutely refused to have anything in common with Blond Bimbo Brenda.  So instead of ordering the meal she’d been anticipating ever since Charles had called her this morning, she just randomly picked something else.  “I’ll have the muffalata and creole olive salad,” she told the waiter. 

Everyone at the table turned to stare at her but she simply straightened her utensils, ignoring their confusion.  She wasn’t going to explain herself but she was silently furious.  She loved her strawberry salad!  Why had Brenda ordered it?  They’d just been discussing how she loved it! 

She almost felt like crying because she really didn’t want the stupid muffalata salad.  And she most definitely wasn’t a big fan of olives.  Sometimes they made her gag!  So why had she ordered the stupid meal? 

She looked up and knew exactly why.  Because she wanted to prove to Dylan that she wasn’t boring and tedious!  She wanted to be brave and adventurous, even if it was just with her meal.  How ridiculous! 

Dylan and Charles were discussing something about business, numbers that meant absolutely nothing to her.  Even Blond Bimbo Brenda was chiming in with her tax knowledge and something about gross contribution.  Her accountant told her things like that all the time, Charles had tried to explain it to her as well.  But she designed wedding gowns.  She knew materials, shapes, draping.  She understood stitches and how to curve the fabric around a woman’s body so that it flattered.  She didn’t even want to understand numbers.  She reviewed her accounts every month, ensuring that the checks and balances matched up accurately.  But it was an all day ordeal that she hated.               

“What do you think?” Dylan asked, startling Georgette from whatever was causing her curl to fall forward. 

Georgette blinked and smoothed her hair back into place.  “Think?” she asked stupidly.  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t following the conversation.”

Charles frowned when he realized that he’d rudely excluded Georgette from the conversation.  Blond Bimbo Brenda just sat back in her chair with a smug smile on her lovely features and Dylan leaned forward.  “We were discussing the waterfront project.  All those abandoned warehouses will be coming down, starting at the beginning of next week.”

She blinked, startled by that announcement.  “Next week?  So quickly?”

“Is there any reason to delay?”

She leaned forward, eager to join the conversation now.  She might not understand gross contribution or tax liabilities but she definitely understood the beauty and value of old homes and the integrity of holding onto and understanding one’s past.  “There are a lot of beautiful homes there.  They might be small but they are historically significant.”

Dylan watched her, feeling that fire light up inside of him when she argued her point.  Damn, she was beautiful, he thought.  And all that passion, she was suppressing it but he knew it was there.  Just below the surface and he wanted so badly to unleash it.  “So you want to stop any kind of improvements in order to save a couple of old houses that no one knows about?” he challenged, not arguing with the point but enjoying her passion.