SilkenSeduction

Read SilkenSeduction Online

Authors: Tara Nina

Silken Seduction

Tara Nina

 

Selling her jewelry designs is on
the top of Temair O’Hara’s agenda. That is, until sexy Brit Evan Lyndsay stops
by her booth at the trade show and sets off a series of fantasies that leave
Temair breathless. Sure, she wants him to recognize her talent as an artist. A
contract with his company would make all her professional dreams come true. But
after a few heated exchanges, she begins to realize he may have designs on her
for reasons other than her talent. And that would be just fine with her. If he
weren’t so much younger.

Evan has a thing for sexy feet and
legs. A big thing. And one woman in particular has a set that sends his libido
into overdrive. But she seems reluctant to see in herself all that he does.
Perhaps some special attention to the area he loves will loosen her up and make
her open to all he has to offer. Because now that he’s had her in his bed, he
has no plans to let her go.

 

Ellora’s Cave Publishing

www.ellorascave.com

 

 

Silken Seduction

 

ISBN 9781419938238

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Silken Seduction Copyright © 2012 Tara Nina

 

Edited by Grace Bradley

Cover design by Syneca

Photography: Syneca; Igor Borodin, Carlo Dapino/Shutterstock.com

Model: Nick

 

Electronic book Publication February 2012

 

The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of
Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

 

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not
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Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

 

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons,
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characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

 

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Silken Seduction

Tara Nina

Dedication

 

My heartfelt thanks go to Grace Bradley, who has the
patience of an angel. Her guidance continues to make me a better author.

 

This story is based on a particular muse who crossed my path
several years ago. Without whom, my imagination would not have created
Silken
Seduction
. Thank you. And thank you to all the muses who touch authors’
imaginations. A great muse equals a delectably delicious story.

 

Chapter One

 

It was just another trade show until he walked in.

Tall and lean with stylish good looks, the man stood out in
the crowd. Temair’s pulse increased, but it was his eyes that stole her breath.
Deep, soulful, wisdom-filled eyes of a dazzling shade of sexy light blue. When
he smiled, the dimples in his cheeks weakened her knees. He sported a
clean-shaven head and face, with the exception of a dark soul patch beneath his
lower lip, which made her wonder if he knew how to use it in all the right
places.

She glanced away, trying to halt the sudden flood of naughty
thoughts traipsing through her head. Temair had difficulty focusing on the task
of arranging her display. His presence in the room controlled the direction of
her subtle glances, no matter how hard she tried to keep from looking his way.

It had been a long time since anyone sparked her sexual
interest, and she kind of liked the renewed sensation of pure, unadulterated
lust at first sight. Damn, the man looked that good. She licked her lower lip
in a nervous attempt to wet it, without removing the remnants of her lipstick.

Unable to resist, Temair lifted her gaze and stalled in her
movements.

When their eyes locked for a split second across a sea of
other business-attired women, moisture dampened her panties for the first time
in months. Oh god, was he actually giving her a sly smile? Had he read her
thoughts? Temair cast her gaze downward. Both hands trembled as she tried to
complete the task of organizing her display.

Don’t be silly
, the annoying voice at the base of her
brain whispered in the tone of her ex-boyfriend. With all the glamorous people
in the room, he couldn’t possibly be seeing her as anything other than a
trade-show professional.

Shallow as it seemed to her, in this business, appearance
could make or break you. Most of the women were young, thin and attractive,
leaving Temair in a Rubenesque class all to herself. Forty-plus sucked. Not to
mention she was without a man in her life. Getting rid of her last boyfriend
had been the best decision for her sanity’s sake.

Determined not to think of that situation now, she forced
her focus on the agenda she’d planned in her head. Meet and greet as many
potential clients, salespersons and business figures she could possibly reach
within the limit of the three-day event.

This was the biggest jewelry showcase of the season. The
Accessories-Holiday and Resort Collection Show was being held at the Javits
Center in New York City. Vendors attended from around the globe in hopes of
landing the right contacts to place their latest line of designs in the biggest
houses. And she was no exception. Her little shop in SoHo desperately needed
the publicity boost landing a high-profile client or contract would bring.

In a room full of industry professionals aching to be the
next best thing in fashion jewelry, Evan Lyndsay was the bait in the goldfish
bowl. The buzz around the trade show was that getting your stuff in his hands
could increase your business tenfold. Lagging sales had her in dire need of his
expertise.

One sideways glimpse of him made her wonder if it was his
business advice she needed to sample. If the increased beat of her heart were
any indication, she doubted it. A split-second fantasy image of his long, lean
male form, naked and ready, shot through her thoughts and sent a shiver
straight to her core, reinforcing her indecision in the matter of professional
interest versus sexual. Temair tightened her thighs as tiny tremors teased her
inner muscles.

Damn.
She bit her lower lip. Had it been that long since
she’d been laid? Come to think of it… She rolled her eyes upward. It had been
over a year since she’d had a real cock nestled deep. The way her body reacted
to a simple glimpse had her on edge. God, was she that pathetic?

Focus.
She shouted the inward command, wrapping a
fragile net of control around her carnal thoughts. Evan Lyndsay was not the
goal. Getting laid was not the objective either. Making a name for herself in
the cutthroat world of the jewelry biz topped her agenda.

Yet, she couldn’t stop her gaze from sliding in his
direction.

It didn’t surprise her that the man himself made the trek
from the UK to attend this function. She’d seen him at a prior convention over
a year ago, but never had the opportunity to meet him. His company was up-and-coming,
pushing the envelope in the latest jewelry designs, and pulling in new talent
was the best way to lunge ahead of the competition. If only she could be that
talent.

She watched as each step he took another fish clamored for
his attention, which kept him in sight, but inaccessible. It wasn’t in her
nature to shove her way to the front or through a crowd. Temair chewed the
inside of her lower lip.

The bottom line of her business was in the red. Being
nonaggressive got a person nowhere in this world. She huffed. Meek individuals
were doormats and she was tired of going unnoticed. Her designs were worthy of
the finest department stores. Determination to get them there set in as she
straightened her spine. Her talents deserved a chance.

What she lacked were the looks and self-confidence to make
it happen.

Don’t think like that
, Temair silently chided
herself. But the echoes of repeated discouragements from the man she’d wasted
years with attempted to resurface. Temair turned on her heels, faced the wall,
and squeezed her eyes shut tight against the unwanted onslaught of past
memories. This was not the time or the place. In her book, thinking of that man
was never good for her self-esteem.

She lifted her shoulders, forced the thoughts from her mind
and returned to the task of placing her jewels on display. A glimpse in the
mirrored glass wall and her confidence was restored. The body in the reflection
may not be model thin, but ample curves weren’t a bad thing. She smiled and
straightened her skirt.

Being without that man’s constant belittlement made her more
at ease and comfortable with her womanly figure. He was wrong. She wasn’t
undesirable. Temair ran her tongue along her lower lip, wetting the cherry-red
color to perfection. Being without him was the best thing for the old
self-esteem. She snorted as she placed the last of her display together.

A knot formed in her gut as she mentally tried to convince
herself she was the successful, desirable woman she wanted to portray at this
convention. Damn. Temair sighed, closed her eyes and issued a silent prayer.
The words of her best friend Lisanne reiterated in her brain.
You can do
this. Don’t let his negativity back into your life. You are strong, talented
and beautiful.

Coming from Lisanne, those words meant a lot. In her
opinion, Lisanne was one of the most down-to-earth beautiful people she knew.
Men’s heads turned when they were anywhere together and Temair knew they
weren’t looking at her. It was the robust, sexy aura of the tall, slender
brunette with red highlights, and the brightest brown eyes filled with life and
a brilliant smile that had their attention. Lisanne was the total package. And
she believed in Temair.

Staring at a strand of blue beads, Temair couldn’t help but
sense pride in her work. Her creativity sprang to life the moment she crawled
out from under the dark cloud that had stifled her for way too long. That
thought made her insides twitter. These were the best creations she’d ever
done. She sighed as she locked the glass door on her tabletop display.

Strength sizzled through her veins and she was glad she’d
spent the money, time and effort she had in preparing for this convention. She
put in weeks designing this line and choreographing the display, right down to
the shape of her own body. She knew what she needed to do to make sure the top
buyers stopped by her booth. Everything about her display had to stand
out—including herself.

Temair caught another glimpse of her reflection and realized
just how large her chest appeared to be in this outfit. Thank god for support
bras and the fact many men liked breasts. She smiled. Smoothing the front of
her skirt, she wished she’d been able to trim more off her middle with the diet
and exercise program she’d followed. But at least her legs looked great. She
allowed herself that little accolade for all her hours of hard work in the gym.

Though she wasn’t sure how she was going to pay it off, she
was glad she’d stretched her credit card and splurged on a few new outfits.
Today’s choice—a black leather skirt, a low-cut blouse of black-and-white
stripes, which tied at the waist and accentuated her full bosom, and a pair of
four-inch, high-heeled leather spikes. Since she normally wore flats, these
took some getting used to in order to even walk, much less appear graceful.

A strand of pearls stood out against the light tan she
managed to get at the tanning salon the week before the show. She ran her
fingers across the strand. Pearls added a hint of class in her opinion. At
least that’s what she’d thought when she chose them over one of her own funky
designs.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of him.
Slow and deliberate, he seemed to be working his way toward her like a jungle
cat on the prowl. The thought of Evan Lyndsay as a hunky predator and she his
prey created an image of her pinned beneath him, naked and ready. Temair gave
herself a quick shake, trying not to surrender control to the unusually hot
thought.

She blinked. Was it a slim hope a man of his stature would
be interested in her work? Due to the rapid thump of her pulse and the sudden
naughty thoughts flipping through her brain, Temair realized it definitely
wasn’t his professional guidance that captivated her senses.

With Lisanne running the shop, Temair was able to attend the
convention without worry. She knew the shop was in good hands. There was no
reason she shouldn’t remain focused on the goal of capturing the attention of a
big house for her jewelry line. There was no rational reason she could think of
that Evan Lyndsay’s house wasn’t a possibility for her product. No reason
except for one. She lifted her gaze and her jaw tightened. An ominous presence
snaking through the crowd threatened her success.

Graceful, lean and with a body to rival that of any cover
model, Deidre Delany stepped into his path.
Should have known she’d be here.
Temair rolled her eyes to the ceiling and issued a silent prayer.
Just once,
God, could you make her miss a trade show, trip and land on her face or
something, just once?

Deidre’s jet-black hair was loose, cascading to mid-back and
her dark, tailored suit accentuated the fine lines of her shape. That woman
just didn’t quit. She got what she wanted no matter what or who she stepped on.
No wonder her designs were being displayed on a Times Square billboard.

Temair refused to let that bother her now. Jealousy was not
a normal reaction for Temair and it surprised her. But for some reason,
watching Deidre in action with a man whose presence had her body humming made
her back straighten and shoulders lift, jutting her breasts forward even more.

What was she thinking? Temair shivered, trying to shake off
the unwarranted sensation and turned her back to the pair in the center of the
room. She had no right to feel jealous. Hell, she hadn’t even met him. And yet
there was something about the man that tugged at a raw, untapped hunger inside
her. A mystery she ached to explore, but didn’t know how or why she even felt
that way.

For ten years she’d been with the same man trapped in a
blah, sexual routine. He was always on top. Missionary or nothing was his
style. But now—she peeked at the man captured by Deidre’s persistence—Temair
was wondering for the first time since her breakup, what it would be like to
have sex with another man.

Could she even be naked in front of someone else? Especially
a younger man?

Don’t go there, girlfriend.
Concentrate on business.
Think jewelry, designs, think stones. Oh great, that was a good one. She rolled
her eyes upward as the image of a pair of scrumptious male balls flashed inside
her head, making her mouth water in anticipation of tasting the salt from the
velvet sac encasing them.

Damn, girl, you need to get laid.
No. She shook her
head. What she needed was to focus on the goal and not some hot-looking,
younger man. She fidgeted with the display until she absently knocked the stack
of business cards from the corner of the table to the floor.

Temair knelt, gathered the cards and as she stood, her blood
heated. A presence hovered behind her and without turning, she knew who it was.
The man exuded sexual prowess. Or was it just her being overly horny? Not sure
which, she took a deep breath, held her shoulders up, chin tilted and turned as
gracefully, and as sensually, as she could on four-inch, spiked leather heels.

Time seemed to stop. The scope of her vision narrowed to
just the man in front of her. Everyone else in the Javits Center faded into
nothingness. It was as if they were surrounded in a bubble that held only the
two of them, and no one else mattered.

The sensation of being caressed coated her skin. She
followed his slow perusal from her red-painted toenails, up her calves to the
leather-clad length of her thighs. She noted the subtle dilation of his pupils
as he gazed up and down her legs once more, before lifting his gaze to the low
plunge of her cleavage, then finally met her eyes.

The blatantly seductive gaze should have offended her, but
it didn’t. The look disappeared as quickly as he had gifted her with it. But
the effect lingered. Her nipples were marble hard and her vaginal muscles
tightened. Oh god, she hoped he didn’t know what he’d done to her with just a
look.

“Hello, I’m Evan Lyndsay.”

The soft-spoken, erotic timbre of his English accent rolled
over her, sending a wave of lust through her body. Even the sound of his voice
controlled her senses without even trying. Temair swallowed hard, dampened her
lower lip with her tongue and prayed she hadn’t just licked off the last of her
lipstick.

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