Behind The Red Doors (Santori Stories #1)(16)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

Maybe it didn’t matter. Once they got past whatever trappings she’d added for the evening’s entertainment, they were down to two nak*d bodies and the most unbelievable sex he’d ever known. It was so good, in fact, that the M-word was running through his mind on a regular basis. He’d begun picturing how Jamie would look in white.

But her newfound spirit of adventure made him nervous. A woman in the midst of exploring her wild side might not be in the mood for commitment. Jamie had given no indication that this was more than a casual affair.

Well, that wasn’t completely true. Through the recent Valentine uproar at The Red Doors, Jamie had seemed to use him as an anchor. He liked having her do that. She’d also admitted to Faith that they’d been dating, and Dev thought that was a major step.

Still, he didn’t feel confident enough to think in terms of happily ever after. Not yet. Maybe not for a long time. But Valentine’s Day was on Friday and this was Tuesday. He needed to make plans, and they couldn’t be a carbon copy of what they’d been doing so far—spending the night in her apartment and in her bed.

Any woman would expect something more elaborate from a guy she’d been seeing so often and so intimately. If she were the old Jamie, he could tell her to pack her comfy clothes and they’d head up to a secluded cabin in Wisconsin for the weekend. But this emerging Jamie would want a night on the town so she could wear a slinky dress and impossibly high heels. Maybe she’d put on the same red pair she’d worn with the red lace teddy the other night.

He didn’t want to go out on the town, but he had to admit the thought of Jamie wearing red heels and lacy underwear got him very hot. He’d finally realized that she could do almost anything and make it sexy. Jamie was the secret ingredient.

He was falling for her, and he had to figure out what to do about that. He had to figure it out before Valentine’s Day, too. Valentine’s Day was a water-shed occasion for any couple. People said and did things on Valentine’s Day that could get them in a lot of trouble. If one person was thinking long-term relationship—as he was—and the other was thinking short-term sexual adventure—as Jamie might be—then Valentine’s Day could be hideous.

But, for starters, he’d ask her to go to the Pump Room for dinner. No doubt the restaurant was already booked solid, but fortunately the Sherman name would get him a table. Normally he didn’t like to pull rank, but this was an unusual situation. With an inward sigh he thought about the starched tux shirt he’d have to wear and the shiny dress shoes he’d never liked. But if Jamie wanted to dress up, then he’d dress up, too.

He climbed out of the cab wondering what she had in store for him tonight. They probably wouldn’t just watch a movie and eat popcorn in bed, then enjoy some good old-fashioned sex. They wouldn’t because he hadn’t said anything on the damned questionnaire about liking to do that. She had no idea what the real Dev was all about, but he couldn’t rain on her parade, not when she’d so recently begun having one.

She greeted him at her apartment door wearing a leopard-print sarong. The air reverberated with jungle drums, and when he kissed her, he nearly choked on the musky scent she’d poured on herself.

But she thought this was the perfume he loved, the magic potion that would drive him wild, and she was wearing it just for him. How could he not kiss her until they were both senseless? How could he not shove her against the wall with reckless abandon?

Access to her was easy—she’d worn nothing under the sarong. He paused only long enough to unzip his pants before rolling on a condom, grabbing her sleek bottom and lifting her into position.

In his frenzy to bury himself inside her he forgot the overpowering fragrance, forgot the jungle drums, forgot everything but stroking until he felt her climactic undulations caress his penis. Then he came in a burst of joyous energy.

When it was over, she collapsed against the wall and gulped for air. “I guess…it worked.”

Still groggy from the force of his orgasm, he leaned his forehead against hers while he waited for his body to stop quivering. “What worked?”

“Jungle Goddess. I created it today.”

“Ah.” Vaguely he remembered the question on fragrance. He’d said something about loving an exotic, tribal perfume. For good measure, he’d added that he liked a woman who used a lot of it. In a minute, when he had his sea legs, he’d suggest they take a long, hot shower together. If he stayed with her constantly, she wouldn’t have a chance to put that dreadful stuff on again tonight.

The drums continued their steady rhythm in the background. He’d probably mentioned the drums, too. The leopard-print sarong was nice, though. Much better than leather.

At last he could breathe normally again. And he remembered about the Pump Room. He lifted his head and gazed down at her. Her eyes were closed, and she looked very happy.

He wanted to keep making her happy. The Pump Room was a good idea. “Do you…have plans for Valentine’s night?” he asked.

Her eyes flipped open immediately. “No.”

He could tell from her expression that she’d been waiting for him to ask this, and he was a jerk for not bringing it up sooner. “Will you spend it with me?”

“Of course.” Little lights of joy danced in her eyes.

She should wear emeralds, he thought, and nothing so large and dangerous as that ruby pendant. A delicate little strand of emeralds settled into the curve of her throat would be perfect.

“Did you have something in mind?” she asked.

“How about we start with dinner at the Pump Room? We’ll have a long, decadent meal and then we’ll hit a few nightclubs so I can show you off.”

She smiled. “I’d better get a new dress.” She looked as if she could hardly wait to start shopping.

He swallowed his disappointment. Jamie had obviously discovered her inner party girl. If her transformation happened to coincide with his longing to get away from all that and settle down in a cozy bungalow, it was his bad luck. If he wanted to be with Jamie, he’d have to go along.

But he didn’t have to spend the rest of tonight choking on Jungle Goddess. He leaned down and feathered a kiss over her delicious mouth. “How about a nice, long, hot, wet, slippery shower?”

“I’d love it,” she murmured. “Then we’ll drink coffee out of our favorite blue cup.”

“And then we’ll—”

“Yes.” She smiled. “We certainly will.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

ON WEDNESDAY MORNING Jamie asked Faith to help her pick out a dress for Valentine’s night. The week before, Jamie had admitted that she was seeing Dev, and Faith had been ecstatic. Jamie had warned her they were only having fun, no strings. She warned herself the exact same thing all the time. But this Valentine’s date seemed to take their relationship to a new level, so although she’d rather be dragged over hot coals than get dressed in another one of Dev’s fantasy outfits and do the town, she’d suffer for his sake.

Faith suggested she and Jamie take a long lunch on Thursday and scour the stores. Faith reminded her that she was going away on Valentine’s Day and could probably use a few new things herself. The next day, an hour into the shopping trip, Jamie was ready to call it quits. She wasn’t satisfied with anything, and the price tags made her head swim. But she would do this for Dev.

Faith lounged in a chair by the triple mirrors in the fourth store they’d tried while Jamie tugged and pulled at the latest possibility, a black beaded outfit that glittered and outlined her figure well, but weighed a ton.

“It looks okay, but it feels yucky,” she said.

“Hmm? What did you say?”

Jamie had an attack of conscience. “You’re bored, and I’ll bet you’re tired, too. You’ve had a tough week, and I shouldn’t be dragging you all over creation. And you haven’t even bought anything for yourself yet! I’ll take this one and be done with it.”

“I’m not bored or tired. And that does look great on you.”

“Faith, you were a million miles away.”

“It’s…the holiday, I guess. We’ve pinned our hopes on it, and thankfully the revised software and the wish list database are both pumping up our revenues. But I’ll be glad when we can tally the bottom line and know where we stand.”

“I know what you mean.” Jamie felt doubly guilty now. She’d been so caught up in her affair with Dev that she’d barely had time to worry about the store’s bottom line. Apparently, Faith had been doing enough worrying for both of them.

“So is that the dress you want?” Faith eyed it critically. “It looks wonderful on you. You wear designer clothes like a runway model.”

Jamie checked the fit from the back. “A short runway model.”

“Don’t complain. I’d love to have a figure like yours.”

“And I’d love to have cl**vage like yours.” Jamie laughed. “Come on. Let’s buy this rag and go back to work.”

Not long afterward, a garment bag containing the dress slung over her shoulder, Jamie walked beside Faith as they joined the stream of pedestrians on Michigan Avenue.

“You really like the dress?” Faith seemed to need reassurance that the shopping expedition had been a success.