"Sister dear," Mel said, "she's flying to Colorado -with Royce Powell, I might add-not a summit for sexually repressed librarians."
Kera chuckled. "You're right."
"Think ski bunny," Mel said. "Sexy," she continued. "Wild. Uninhibited."
"I'm not trying to seduce him," I told them.
"Oh, please," both said in unison.
"I'm not. Really." How many lies could one woman tell in a single day before God could no longer forgive her? When I was a little girl, my mom used to tell me the limit was 490 times a day. I think I was dangerously close to reaching that.
"You may not allow yourself to try," Mel said wickedly, knowingly, "but you want to. Bad."
I didn't try to deny it, but I didn't audibly agree with her, either. She took my silence for refusal.
"I thought you had a brain in that skull of yours," she mumbled. "If you don't want to seduce him, we need to get you a prescription for Viagra for women ASAP."
"Maybe we should take her in for a CAT scan," Kera suggested.
"Guys, I'm a hardened bitch with relationship scars. That's all there is to it." I ran my fingertips down the lapels of a wool jacket. "No amount of drugs or medical testing will change that."
"True." Mel.
"You're right." Kera.
Hey, weren't they supposed to defend my character? Weren't they supposed to assure me that I might have internal scars, but an entry in the Bedroom Olympics would do me some good?
"Still," Mel finally said, "I think the whip and feathers we gave you at your non-party will go a long way towards helping you overcome your bitchiness."
An image of Royce tied facedown to my bed, his naked body bared for my viewing pleasure while I whipped him then soothed the ache with feathers-or my tongue-filled my head. My nipples instantly hardened and the juncture between my thighs ached.
"Well, hello ladies." Mel laughed. "Something I said got through to your hormones." She flicked a pointed glance at my breasts.
Cheeks heating, I quickly covered them with my hands. I should have worn a padded water bra-yes, I owned one and I wasn't ashamed. Small-breasted women had to do what small-breasted women had to do to fill out their shirts properly. That would have kept my traitorous nipples hidden.
"So you aren't as immune to him as you would have us believe." Kera lifted a green floral sundress and held it to her petite frame. "Why else would you have kissed him? Twice."
"Shut up," I said.
"We aren't the Tattler. You don't have to deny, deny, deny with us."
"It's obvious you two want each other," Kera continued. She twirled around, the dress she held dancing at her knees. "So what's the problem? Seduce the man, and get it out of your system. Sex doesn't have to be a major commitment."
I knew she didn't believe those words, just as I knew what she was trying to do. Kera thought if I slept with Royce, I would fall in love and suddenly decide I wanted to marry him.
What if she wasn't far off the mark? That's what scared me most. Still, that was no reason to tell the man to read Kera's application. Bad Naomi.
"Sex is a major commitment to Royce," I said. I snatched the dress from her and hung it back on the rack. No green.
"Just because of that article?" Mel asked doubtfully, flipping through another mound of napkins/dresses. "It could have all been a joke, you know. Or even an exaggeration. The media always distorts the news."
"The press was right this time. I know because-" Jeez, it was time I came clean and revealed exactly what was going on. I hadn't told them everything, and they deserved to know. "He proposed. To me."
"Proposed?" In the next instant, Kera grabbed me by the shoulders, spinning me around to face her. "As in, he asked you to marry him?"
I bit my bottom lip. "Well, yeah."
My petite, delicate cousin shook me once, twice. "So what did you say?"
"No, of course."
"No, of course, she says." Kera threw up her hands and swung to face Mel, her blond locks whipping me in the face. "Did you just hear what this foolish woman said? Can she possibly be related to us? Naomi turned down a man who looks like Colin Farrell, is richer than God and finds her so desirable he can't live without her."
"Now wait just a-"
"I'm having trouble believing it myself." Mel tsk-tsked under her tongue. "It's one thing to say you're never going to get married, but it's quite another to actually reject such a man's proposal. Naomi, Naomi, Naomi. Do we need to have you committed for being mentally unstable?"
"I never said anything about him being unable to live without me. He never said anything of the sort, either." Well, he kind of did. He'd said some of the most wonderful things to me, things that continually swept through my mind, weakening my knees. He'd thought about me for six whole months. He'd dreamed about me. He loved me.
"He implied it with his proposal," Mel said. Hooking her red-streaked bangs behind her ear, she leveled a pointed stare at me. "If you won't consider the marriage thing, at least say you'll think about that wild affair with him."
How could I not think about it? My body craved the man like a drug. I leaned against a rack of slacks and the hangers dug into my back. "He'd probably expect to fly to Vegas the moment we slept together."
Mel gently pushed me aside so she could study a pair of hip-huggers. "Just because he expects it, doesn't mean you have to say yes."
True.
"Why don't you introduce him to me?" Kera shifted her weight from one high-heeled foot to the other and eyed me with the same purposeful intent Mel had earlier. "I don't have a stupid rule about dating a client, and I am so ready to fall in love and get married."
My stomach tightened. The same sick, yucky feeling that had washed over me in Royce's office washed over me now. I didn't want Royce for myself, but I damn sure didn't want anyone else to have him either. Not even Kera, whom I loved.
What was it about that man that tied me in so many knots?
"Trust me," I said, trying to act nonchalant and breezy. "You don't want him, Kera. What type of husband would he make, anyway? He obviously travels a lot. He's bossy, arrogant, egotistical, tyrannical and possibly vainglorious. And what happened to George? I thought you were interested in him."
"Maybe I'm more interested in Royce." She expelled a dreamy (fake?) sigh. "He's sooo hot."
Yes. Yes, he was. And his kisses slayed me. Enthralled me. Had me panting for more. Maybe, after I finished planning his mother's party, Royce and I could have some type of fling.
My chin tilted to the side as I considered that scenario. Hmm…sex on the beach. Sex on a balcony. Sex in every room of my apartment. Sex, sex, sex. Would he be interested in an affair? He was a healthy man, and he'd said he wanted me in his life. If I made it clear sex was all I could give him, surely he'd relent.
I'd never had a purely sexual relationship before, a relationship where emotions were taboo. Could I handle one? Surely I could. Surely my fears about falling in love with him if we got naked were unfounded.
I had to admit, the thought of touching him at my leisure appealed to me. Tasting him, too. Letting him touch and taste me. A sultry heat invaded my veins, and I licked my lips. A few nights of hot, dirty (unemotional) loving would surely cure me of this obsession for him. Of my need for his naked body straining against mine, slipping and pumping erotically inside me.
Yes, I decided then, already eager to begin. I would seduce him after the party. For my peace of mind, if nothing else. I would sleep with him and keep my heart well guarded. When the passion was sated, he and I would part. Simple. Easy. No one would get hurt.
"Kera," I said. "I want Royce, so you can't have him."
She grinned slowly, as if that was what she'd wanted to hear all along.
Mel muttered, "About time."
In all of my life, I'd been with a total of two men. Number one: Jase Waldren, my high-school crush. After several months of "going steady," he'd taken my virginity in the back seat of his rusty yellow truck and had never called me again. Not that I'd cared. I'd been about as close to orgasm that night as I was to buying a pair of Dolce amp; Gabbana black leather stiletto boots right now.