Unforgettable (8 page)

Heaven on earth was all she could think. His lips were like heaven on earth. She took her time and savored every inch of his glorious mouth. Despite the barrier of clothing, Marcel's rock-hard erection rubbed against her feminine entrance.

Diana's legs widened so she could cradle him between them. His hands slid beneath her blouse and took their time during their journey toward her breasts. They were the perfect fit in the palms of his hands and when he gave them a gentle squeeze, he swallowed her resultant whimper.

Something was ringing off in the distance, but nothing was going to disturb this groove, these glorious emotions, this sweet, sweet dream. However, the ringing wouldn't go away.

Diana pried her lips away from Marcel's to yell, “Will someone please get that?”

“What the hell?” a voice thundered above her.

Diana's eyes jerked open. At the sight of a startled Marcel, she screamed, pushed, kicked and shoved.

Marcel toppled over and crashed onto the wooden coffee table. His howl of pain succeeded in shutting her up, but when she looked down to see her breasts spilling out of her blouse another wave of panic consumed her.

“Oh, my God. Oh, my God,” she screamed.

He stood rubbing his head. “Calm down, and for goodness' sake, please stop hollering like that.”

“Do you know what we were doing? What almost happened? Oh, my God. I have to get out of here.”

The doorbell rang and Diana recognized what had just saved her from being another notch on Casanova Brown's bedpost.

She buttoned her blouse and looked around the room. “Where are my shoes?”

He searched around. “I don't know. What time is it?”

Diana glanced at her watch but was surprised as she read, “Twelve o'clock.”

“P.M.?” he asked.

“Apparently.” Diana suddenly felt as if Lake Michigan were pressing against her kidneys. “Where is the nearest bathroom?”

Marcel plopped back onto the sofa. “Down the hall on your right.”

The doorbell rang again and Marcel picked up some type of gadget from the end table and spoke into it. “Yeah, who's out there?”

Heading toward the bathroom, Diana stopped in her
tracks when a syrupy-sweet feminine voice answered through a house speaker.

“Hey, you're home. It's me, Nora.”

M
ornings were usually hard for Louisa. Most of the time, it took all of her strength just to climb out of bed. Today, however, she was excited to find out what time Diana actually made it home. Since she hadn't retired until 2:00 a.m. waiting for Diana, Louisa hoped that maybe, just maybe, something wonderful might have transpired.

It was a long shot that anything happened between her guarded granddaughter and the handsome bachelor, but Louisa had always been a sucker for romance and a fool for great sex. And her instincts told her that her grandbaby just might have gotten herself a little action with that gorgeous boss of hers.

She slipped into her slippers, donned her housecoat and hustled out of her bedroom. When she approached Diana's bedroom, she was downright giddy.

“Diana?” She knocked on her door and waited only a second before twisting the knob. “It's me, Diana.” She poked her head through the door and glanced over at the bed. “Empty.”

She squealed with delight and even managed to perform a happy dance.

Heavy footsteps rushed down the hall. Startled, she glanced up at a frightened Tim. “Louisa, what's wrong?”

She clapped her hands together. “She's not home.”

He exhaled. “I know. I haven't been able to sleep a wink.” He rubbed his hands along the crop of his hair before turning around. “I'm about to make some coffee. Want some?”

Louisa rushed to catch up with him. “Aren't you excited?'

“
Exhausted
would be the word I'd use.” His mouth stretched wide during a yawn. “I'm getting too old to stay up all night.”

“Well, wait until you reach my age.”

“Which is?”

“None of your business.” She popped him on the arm and smiled. “Now, where is Caleb?”

“Home, asleep. His stamina isn't what it used to be either.”

Louisa giggled at the double entendre. “You're so bad.” She sashayed into the kitchen ahead of him where the morning coffee had automatically started brewing. “Can I tempt you with some breakfast?”

“Nah. I better get back so I can take care of my own breadwinner.” He joined her in front of the microwave
and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Tell Diana to call me when she gets in.”

“You're not curious about what happened last night?”

“Are you kidding? I'm
dying
to get the juicy details, but I'm not asking any questions. If she wants me to know anything, then she'll tell me.”

Louisa rolled her eyes. “You're no fun. I, on the other hand, am going to leave no stone unturned. If I think there's the slightest chance that Diana cares for Marcel, then I'm going to do all I can to make sure she gets him.”

 

After easing the pressure on her bladder, Diana did her best to clean up her appearance. All the while, she pretended that it didn't matter that Nora was probably out there in an itty-bitty miniskirt and batting her expensive mink eyelashes.

Now that Diana thought about it, Nora and Marcel probably would make a decent couple. Not only were they both beautiful people, but they also loved and sought out the finer things in life. For example: why would a bachelor with no children need a seventeen-bedroom house?

“It's ridiculous,” she mumbled, struggling to pull her hair in a French braid. “I don't know how I even remotely thought that I…that I felt… Oh, forget it.” She jerked open the bathroom door to find Marcel standing there, holding out her shoes.

“I found them.”

Diana placed a hand over her heart and wondered
wildly just how long he'd been standing there. “Where's Nora?”

“Gone.” He leaned against the door frame.

“Gone where?”

“Does it matter?”

Diana shrugged. “I guess not.”

He frowned. “So who were you talking to in there?”

“No one.” She grabbed her shoes.

“Do you talk to yourself often?”

“I plead the Fifth.” She slid on her shoes and flashed him a fake smile before walking around him. “I better get out of here.”

“No breakfast?”

“It's lunchtime,” she said, returning to the living room.

“Fine. Lunch, then?”

“I would love to but…”

Both stopped and turned at the sound of the front door opening and closing. Seconds later, a soft, lyrical voice floated throughout the house. “Marcel, darling?” Diana's narrowed gaze shifted to her boss and her heart broke at seeing his face light up.

“Ophelia? Is that you?” He deserted Diana's side and strode to the front door. Ophelia? Why did the name seem familiar? “This place is just a regular chick magnet,” she mumbled and snatched her purse from the sofa. Before she could make a dramatic exit, Marcel returned with a Beyoncé Knowles look-alike clinging to his waist.

“It's so good to see you,” he said and placed a kiss against her forehead.

“I hope you don't mind my using the key you gave me.”

“Of course not. That's why I gave it to you.”

When Ophelia's beautiful honey-colored gaze lifted to Diana, a cold chill blew across her spine. She'd seen this woman before. Both Marcel and Solomon had a picture of her sitting on their desks. In the past, Diana had wondered which man the beauty had dated or whether she'd perhaps dated both.

“Oh. Hello.” Ophelia smiled. “Marcel, aren't you going to introduce us?”

He blinked. “Of course.”

“You know, that's not necessary,” Diana interrupted. Her desire to get the hell out of there propelled her to rush past them.

“But, Di—”

“I have to get home and see about my grandmother, anyway.” She rushed on to the door.

Marcel left his golden lady to follow her to the door. “Well, I'm sorry that you have to leave.”

“I should have left last night.” She opened the door. “I guess I'll see you on Monday.”

“Yeah. Uh, bright and early.” He smiled and looked as if he didn't know what else to say before settling on, “About what happened this morning, or rather afternoon.”

Diana's face burned with embarrassment. “Uh, forget it. It was no big deal.”

He straightened. “I don't know. It seemed like a big deal twenty minutes ago.”

An awkward smile wobbled at the corners of her lips. Why was it so difficult to get out of this man's house? “Look, I admit I freaked for a minute there, but I'm willing to forget the whole thing happened.”

He stared at her and slowly nodded his head. “Yeah, I guess that would be the best thing to do. I mean, we were… We…”

“Had too much to drink,” she offered for him.

He slid his hands into his pants pockets. “Yeah. We did.”

His gaze softened as it roamed over her face. Then again, it was probably her imagination again. “Bye.” She turned away and headed to her car. It was just in time, too, because she was seconds away from transforming into a blubbering idiot.

Sliding behind the wheel, Diana glanced up at the door and was taken aback when she saw Marcel still gracing the entrance. For a fleeting moment, their eyes met and those familiar butterflies took flight in the pit of her stomach. She experienced an instant recall of how his lips felt against the lobe of her ear and along the column of her neck.

What would have happened if they weren't interrupted? “I would have made love to him,” was her whispered answer. She started the car and tried to block out the memory of Marcel's hands roaming up her body.

All those good feelings crashed when Marcel's very curvy friend joined him at the door. There was no
mistaking that look of love and adoration that covered his features when he looked at her.

Shifting the car into gear, Diana pulled her gaze away from the smiling couple and finally left the Taylor estate.

Back at Joe Mugg's

Ophelia thanked a bright, doe-eyed waitress for refilling her coffee cup before settling her gaze back on Solomon. “I remember that day. How is it that you know so much that went on between Marcel and this Diana?”

“It took quite a bit of coaxing, trust me.” Solomon chuckled into his mug.

“Still, Marcel has always been such a private person.”

“True, but love has a way of changing people, I suppose.” He locked onto her honey-colored gaze and a small smile flittered at the corners of his mouth.

“Maybe.” She finally returned her attention to her drink. “It's just going to take me some time to get used to the idea of Casanova Brown tossing in the towel.”

He took a chance and asked, “Are you disappointed?”

Ophelia frowned. “What do you mean?”

Shrugging, he tried on another smile. “I always thought you had a crush on Marcel. I remember a time back in junior high when you two were practically joined at the hip.”

“Talk about hunting around in the ice age.”

“He was your date for the senior prom,” he added.

Her delicate arched brows lifted with surprised amusement. “It might have been because he felt sorry for me. The guy I waited to ask me out never did.”

Solomon's stomach twisted into knots. “Who?”

Ophelia shook her head. “Still clueless after all this time?” She laughed. “Figures.”

“You don't mean…” He shook his head at the preposterous thought. “Surely, you don't mean…”

“Yes, you,” she said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “I practically made a fool of myself dropping hints and dragging you to the mall. Didn't you wonder why I wanted you to help pick out my prom dress
before
I even had a date?”

“Me?” he asked, still thunderstruck. “I thought that you were just being a…tease. That's why I kept picking the ugliest dresses I could find.”

“Oh. I thought you were being an ass.”

They laughed at the memory.

Afterward, Solomon felt silly for not catching her so-called hints. “Does this mean you liked me?”

She flashed him a sexy smile and winked. “Again, you're hunting around in the ice age.”

His good mood faded when he realized what she was saying. Whatever she'd once felt for him had long since changed. Wasn't that just his luck?

“So, tell me more about Marcel and his Cinderella.”

“Funny that you should say Cinderella,” Solomon said, setting his elbows on the table.

“Why?”

“Well, Uncle Willy was throwing this masquerade ball…”

One week later

A
fter another grueling meeting with their new record distribution company, Solomon followed Marcel to his office where he quickly made himself comfortable behind the bar.

“Thank goodness that's finally over,” Solomon said, reaching for his favorite bottle of vodka. “That Mr. Leonard sure knows how to drive a hard bargain.”

“Tell me about it.” Marcel slipped out of his jacket and loosened his tie. “He's one savvy businessman. I have to give him that much.”

“But he doesn't have anything on you.” Solomon lifted his glass in salute. “You're the man.”

Marcel allowed the flattery to inflate his ego as he
flashed his best friend a crooked smile. “I do what I can.”

Solomon quickly fixed Marcel's standard rum and Coke and brought it to his desk. “Have you decided on a costume yet?”

“Ah, the party.” Marcel accepted the drink as he rolled his eyes. “I'd forgotten about it.”

“Again?” Solomon took the seat in front of the desk. “You're going to try and back out of this thing, aren't you?”

“No. I'm not going to back out.” He sighed because that was exactly what he wanted to do. “I said that I would go, so I'm going.”

“Great.” Solomon beamed. “How is your search for Mrs. Right going? Still looking to settle down with just one woman?”

Marcel nodded. “The desire is still there, though I haven't devoted too much time to pursuing it.”

“Did you call that doctor I told you about?”

“I don't need a psychiatrist.”

“That's what all crazy people say.”

“Know many of them, do you?” Marcel laughed.

“Are you kidding? In this business they surround us. If it makes you feel any better, there are some days when I question my own sanity.”

“That's no surprise. I've been questioning your sanity since junior high.”

“Ha, ha.” He took another sip of his drink. “Who knows, maybe you'll meet someone at the party. I told you how many women are going to be there.”

“Yeah, yeah. We'll be kids in a candy shop. I re
member.” He shrugged, unable to generate much enthusiasm.

“You know what? I think I'm going to help you.”

“What?”

Solomon set his drink down and then jumped to his feet. “If you're serious about looking for Mrs. Taylor, then I'm going to help. And I think Uncle Willy's party is the place to hunt…I mean, look.”

“I still don't think I follow you.”

“What's not to get?” He placed his hands on Marcel's desk and leaned forward. “All the women at the ball are going to be single. Everyone will be in costumes and masks. Not only will you not know who they are, but they won't know who you are, either. So it's a perfect opportunity for you to meet a woman who doesn't know that you're the president of a record label or that you're rich as hell. It's just a man meeting a woman.”

Solomon had finally piqued Marcel's interest. “Go on.”

“We work the room together and whatever woman we settle on is the woman you will pursue.”

The room fell silent for a long while.

“So what do you think?”

Marcel shrugged, but couldn't stop the smile from curling his lips. “It's interesting.”

“So we're going to do this?”

“I might. Let me think about it some more.”

“Cool.” Solomon nodded and returned to his chair. “Now what's the story between you and Nora? Word around the office is that you two have more than a working relationship.”

“Who's saying that?”

“Nora, I suspect.” Solomon chuckled. “Lord, you were the only thing she talked about that night you deserted me in New York. Better watch your back…and your front with that woman around. She's determined to have you.”

Marcel laughed. “It's always good to be wanted.”

“Just remember your hands-off-employees policy.”

Diana's soft body instantly resurfaced from his memory. He also recalled the faint scent of vanilla on her skin. “Yeah, hands-off.”

Solomon frowned. “Is there something that you want to tell me?”

“Ophelia stopped by last week.”

“And you're just now telling me?”

“She was just here for an afternoon. You were still in New York. No big deal.”

Solomon nodded, and then after seconds passed, he asked, “Did she mention me?”

Marcel shrugged. “You might have come up once or twice.”

“You're killing me. You know that?”

“Relax, man.” Marcel laughed. “We just talked about old times over lunch, that's all.”

Solomon visibly relaxed. “I mean, I was just wondering.” He took another gulp of his drink and studied Marcel again. “Anything else you want to tell me?”

Marcel blinked and flashed his friend another awkward smile. “Nothing I can think of.”

Solomon nodded, but again it didn't look like he
believed him. He drained the rest of drink, his gaze locked on Marcel. “There's a speech coming, isn't there?”

Marcel swiveled to face the magnificent view of the city.

“Is it Nora?” Solomon asked.

“No.”

The silence in the office grew to an unbearable decibel before Marcel faced Solomon again and stressed, “No.”

Solomon sighed with relief. “Then who is it?”

“No one.” Marcel stood and absently began pacing the floor. “It's nothing.”

“You really should try lying to someone who doesn't know you so well,” Solomon said as he stood and returned to the bar for a refill. “You asked me about Diana Guy the other day.”

Marcel stopped pacing.

Solomon stopped pouring. “Oh, my God.”

“Nothing's happened,” Marcel started. “Well, I did kiss her.”

“You kissed your secretary?”

“It was an accident.”

“What, you tripped and your lips fell on hers?”

“No. I woke up and she was lying next to me.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Solomon set the bottle down and formed the letter T with his hands.

From the corners of his eyes, Marcel saw his office door opening.

“Time out,” Solomon thundered, oblivious of the intruder.

“Mr. Taylor—”

“You slept with your secretary?”

Nora froze with her mouth gaped wide open.

Marcel clenched his jaw, tried to count to ten but got as far as five. “May I help you, Ms. Gibson?”

“I, uh, came to see if you, uh, had a chance to, uh—maybe I should come back later?” She inched back toward the door.

“Yeah, maybe you should. And while you're at it, next time ask to be buzzed in.”

Nora stiffened. “I'll make sure I do that.” She flashed them both a tight smile and backed out of the office. Once she was outside the door, she drew several breaths in order to regain her composure before the sound of approaching footsteps caught her attention.

“What are you doing here?” Diana asked, while shifting a stack of papers in her arms.

“I came to speak with Mar…Mr. Taylor about something but thought better of it.”

Diana studied her for a minute and then decided she had more important things to do than to deal with whatever drama Nora might have. She returned to her desk to prioritize the documents Marcel needed to review. It took her a moment to realize that Nora hadn't budged.

“Is there something else I can help you with?” Diana asked, hardly sparing her a glance.

Nora moved toward her desk with small measured steps. “No, I was just marveling over what a sly little devil you are.”

“Excuse me?”

She laughed as she waved a finger and propped a hip
against Diana's desk. “That's a pretty good act you got going there, Little Miss Mouse. It's funny how I didn't catch on earlier.”

Diana eased back in her chair and folded her arms. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about you and Marcel. Just how long have you two been an item?”

Diana laughed and rolled her eyes. “You've lost your mind.”

“Have I?”

“Yes, you have.” Diana rose to her feet to make it clear that she wasn't intimidated by the ambitious A&R representative. “I would also appreciate it if you could refrain from spreading such nonsense around the office.”

A sinister laugh tumbled from Nora as she returned to her feet, as well. “Nonsense, my ass. But let me give you fair warning. You might have him for now, but I'm a woman accustomed to getting what I want and I will have Marcel Taylor. You can bet on it.”

Though she still didn't know what this crazy woman was talking about, Diana's heart squeezed painfully at the image of Nora cuddled up against Marcel. Anger and jealousy swirled within her and she could feel the extra blood rising to her head.

“What makes you think that Marcel wants you?” she hissed, not truly evaluating what she was saying.

Nora stretched out her arms. “Just look at me.” She performed a perfect pirouette to show off her ample figure. “Every man wants this.”

Diana's sharp retort died in her throat when Marcel's
door opened and Solomon's and Marcel's hearty laughter tumbled out of the office.

“Diana, can I see you in my office?” Marcel asked once Solomon was on his way.

“Yes, sir,” Diana answered but her heated gaze remained locked on Nora. “Duty calls.”

“Enjoy him while you can.” She gave her a departing smirk and sauntered off.

“Diana?”

“I'm coming,” she barked and turned her angry gaze toward Marcel.

He held up his hands in surrender. “Whenever you're ready. I don't want to rush you or anything.”

“Cut it out.” She reached for her notepad and pen and stormed into Marcel's office.

Marcel closed the door behind her. “Not having a good day?”

“It's nothing I can't handle.” She planted herself in the empty chair across from Marcel's desk and angrily flipped through her notepad.

The nerve of that woman. Who in the hell does she think she is?

“Diana?” Marcel frowned and leaned against the front of his desk. “Is there something wrong?”

His steady gaze was like a splash of cold water to a fire and suddenly she wasn't so sure why she let Nora, of all people, get under her skin. “I'm fine,” she said, flashing her first real smile.

“Glad to hear it.” He clapped his hands and straightened up. “I need a costume.”

She chuckled. “Excuse me?”

He stood and returned to his desk. “It's for a masquerade ball that I don't know how to get out of. That is unless you have some ideas?”

“Fresh out.” She shrugged. “Why, don't you want to go?”

“Honestly?”

“Sure, why not?”

Sighing, he eased back in his chair, but it took him a moment to compile his thoughts and in the end he just said, “It'll take too long to explain.”

She stifled her disappointment, while he reached into the drawer and handed her an envelope. “Please mail this RSVP and see if you can find any costume shops around town. If you find anything, send Wayne to pick it up. He knows my sizes.”

“We both do,” Diana said absently as she took notes. When she realized what she'd said, she looked up.

“Yeah, I guess you do.” He smiled. “And on a different note, I received a postcard from my darling mother. Seems she's now in Paris.”

“Just taking a nice tour of Europe.”

He nodded. “Since she's doing okay and I know where she is, you can go ahead and pull Castleman off the case. No doubt he's enjoying his free trip around the world.”

“I know it's none of my business but have you heard from your father? I haven't heard from him in a week.”

“No. That worries me. I've even tried to contact him myself, but he hasn't returned my calls.” He sighed. “I'll swing by his place later on today and make sure that he's doing all right.”

Diana nodded and jotted a note to contact Castleman.
After a while, she noticed the office had fallen silent again. She looked up and caught Marcel's gaze centered on her.

Once again, the intensity of his gaze knocked her off center. “I-is there anything else?”

“I was just wondering about the other night.”

Diana's body instantly turned into a carnival of activity, where her stomach hosted a family of acrobats and legions of bumper cars rammed against her heart. “What about it?”

“Well,” he began. His gaze remained glued on her. “I wanted to know whether your feelings toward me have changed?”

Diana swallowed. “Changed?”

“Yeah, if I recall correctly, you weren't too fond of me. Remember?”

She forced out an awkward laugh. “Oh, that.”

“Oh, that,” he repeated with his own cracked laugh. “Or did my boorish behavior that next morning…afternoon, just cement me as the bad guy?”

“I never said you were a bad guy.” She dropped her gaze to stare at a blank spot on her notepad. “I just thought you were a man with…too many options.”

“You mean women?”

“Something like that. Even what happened between us suggests that you're a man accustomed to waking up next to women.”

“Is that right?” He leaned back in his chair. “Then what was your excuse?”

The temperature in the room spiked dramatically when their gazes met again.

“If I remember correctly, you were kissing me back. Now what does that say?”

“That I was drunk out of my mind,” she said defensively.

“Ah, of course.” He nodded as he continued smiling. “In my defense, I thought I was dreaming.”

Diana swallowed again.

“And as for my many…options, all it takes is the right woman to come along,” he said.

“And how would you know the
right
woman?”

“I got a feeling that it'll just hit me.”