Blueprint for Love (4 page)

Ronnie watched as Vic’s face transformed
from cocky to compassionate. His entire demeanor had changed, and
the person on the other end of the line was definitely
responsible.

Andrea.

From the picture on Vic’s cell phone, the
female looked like a blonde bombshell. A young one, at that. Ronnie
had never been one to eavesdrop, but she listened to Vic’s side of
the phone conversation with interest.

“
Hey,” Vic spoke into the
phone. “Sorry, I got held up.” His voice was smooth as maple syrup
on a summer day. “Yeah, I know I promised. Don’t I always make good
on my promises?”

Andrea must be one ballsy woman to have Vic
on eggshells, explaining himself.

“
Something came up,” he
said to the caller. “But I’ll be there soon.”

Vic went from sour to sweet in a matter of
seconds. If Ronnie hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she would have
never believed it.

As her eyes roamed his
chiseled physique from the bottoms of his black jeans to the rolled
up cuffs of his black shirt, she felt a sting of jealousy. What
woman could make a man like Vic Romano turn to mush? Oh, to have
that kind of control over such
a stallion.
It was probably someone with a lot more confidence than her. A
woman who wasn’t so busy working she didn’t have time to indulge
her passions.

Vic’s call was short and sweet. He hung up,
looking slightly agitated. Funny, how his mood changed on the drop
of a dime. His gruff voice filled the air. “C’mon, let’s get you
where you need to be so I can handle my business.”

Is that what men called it
these days?
Business?
She glanced at her watch. Seven-thirty. “Isn’t it a little
early for a booty call?”

His heated gaze bored into her. “For your
information, that was not a booty call. I’m not the type of guy who
sneaks in after the sun goes down. I shower my woman with affection
in private and in public.”

Well, damn!

Shivers ran down her spine. Ronnie’s eyes
dropped to Vic’s big hands as he stuffed his phone back into his
pocket. She imagined those hands rubbing up and down her thighs,
across her ass. She sighed. She longed for the passion that had
been missing during her marriage. When Vic gave her a curious look,
she closed her mouth. She was sure she’d been drooling.

“
Um, I’m sure what you do
is no business of mine,” she told him. “I just need a ride to the
banquet. I can make it worth your while.”

She didn’t mistake the mischievous glint in
his eyes. “I’m sure you can, but that’s not necessary,” he
said.

She gasped. Oh, he thought she meant some
type of personal favor. She felt embarrassed until she realized a
second later that he’d refused her.

I guess I don’t have what
Blondie has
.

Ronnie pushed her wounded pride aside. “No,
I meant I could pay you,” she added.

“
No need. Hold on to your
money.”

“
What’s that supposed to
mean?”

“
It means hold on to your
money.”

“
Are you implying that I
spend money willfully?”

“
Jeez, woman. I’m not
implying anything. Will you lighten up?”

He walked to his Explorer and opened the
passenger side.

“
Where are you
going?”

“
Nowhere. I’m opening your
door for you. Just because you’re an ice queen doesn’t give me the
right not to act like a gentleman.”

“
Ice queen!” she gasped.
“I’ll have you know—”

“
Don’t forget your purse,”
he interrupted. “Like you said, we only have a few minutes to get
you to your event. Time’s awastin’.”

Deciding not to start an argument over his
‘Ice Queen’ remark, Ronnie stalked back to her car and retrieved
her handbag and her beaded, sequined dress from the front seat.

Vic’s eyes landed on the dress. “Really,
there’s no need to get dressed up.”

Was that his attempt at a joke? He was a
real riot. She’d give him some of his own medicine.

“
Oh, funny man. That’s
exactly what I need to do.”

“
And just where do you
plan on changing?”

“
In your
backseat.”

# # #

The fact that Vic had a half-naked woman in
the backseat of his Ford Explorer was doing all sorts of kinky
things to his libido. As he drove, he kept stealing peeks in his
rear-view mirror, when all the time, he knew he should be focused
on the road. It wouldn’t do them any good if he ran into a ditch or
hit something and ended up getting a flat tire too. The Ice Queen
would not like that one bit.

He glanced in his mirror again, just in time
to see Ronnie pull the shimmery dress over her head.

“
No peeking!” she
ordered.

He chuckled. She was damn pleasing on the
eyes. But what a snarky personality. She was obviously used to
giving orders, and used to being obeyed. Just like she’d expected
him to drive her to her event. Worse yet, she’d given no thought to
what he might do to her. After all, he was an ex-con—even if it was
for something that wasn’t entirely his fault. But Ronnie didn’t
know that. Five years ago, he’d let his anger get the best of him.
He’d learned from it and nowadays, he took a deep breath,
regrouped, and let things slide off his back like water on a
duck.

Ronnie glared at him as she yanked on the
side zipper of her dress.

“
I’m not a serial killer
or anything,” he said.

“
I didn’t say
that.”

“
You were thinking
it.”

“
Good thing we don’t get
in trouble for our thoughts.”

He shook his head. “Woman, has anybody ever
told you that you’re too uptight?”

“
Sure, but nobody that I
took seriously. Slackers who can’t live up to life’s
challenges.”

“
Let me guess. You’re
divorced. Husband left you for a younger woman?”

“
Widowed. Husband died
defending our country.”

“
Sorry.”

Now, he felt like a shit. There were rare
occasions when he put his size-twelve foot in his big mouth. This
was one of them. Vic thought he saw a fleeting look of regret cross
Ronnie’s face, but he couldn’t be sure in the dim light.

He changed the subject, eager to lighten the
mood. “What would you have done if you’d lost the coin toss?” he
asked.

“
I knew you would take me
anyway. You wouldn’t leave a woman stranded. You seem like a decent
guy.”

Oh, no. He was not letting her off the hook
with that remark. “If I’m so decent, why’d you treat me like stink
on a pig in your office?”

She shook her head. “I treat all sexists
that way. Plus, you acted like you didn’t want to shake my hand.
Was it because I’m a woman?”

“
God, no!” He smirked at
the ridiculousness of her question. “I’m a firm believer in girl
power. In fact, I’m pro-female. I have a strong grip. I didn’t want
to hurt you.”

“
Hah! Trust me, it would
take a lot more than a concrete handshake to hurt me. Take the next
exit,” she ordered.

“
Can I tell you something
without you biting my head off?”

“
I get the feeling if I
say no, you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“
You’re too hard on
people. Or maybe you’re just too hard on men.”

“
I’m raising a young man
myself.”

“
I hope you’re not raising
him to be a hard ass, too.”

She puckered her full lips. “Mr. Romano,
you’re certainly not endearing yourself to me. First, you call me
an Ice Queen. Then, you question my child rearing skills.”

“
My apologies. I have a
bad habit of speaking my mind. Bluntness can be both a blessing and
a curse.”

“
Just put the pedal to the
metal, buddy. I’ve got less than ten minutes to get there or I’m
going to be late.”

“
God forbid you should
miss out on all the fun.”

“
This is far from fun. In
fact, I consider it work.”

“
So, what do you do for
fun? Or are you too busy working to have fun?”

She looked insulted as he eyed her through
the rearview. “I have fun. Why does everyone think I don’t have
fun?”

“
Okay, so I’ll repeat.
What’s your idea of fun? Probably color coordinating all the
clothes in your closet.” He snickered at his own remark.

“
I’ll have you know, I am
very fun!” she insisted. “I do fun stuff all the time,
dammit.”

“
Such as?”

“
Such as…I don’t have to
explain myself to you.”

“
So then, just as I
suspected. Ms. Jones does not have fun.”

She let out a frustrated breath. “If you
insist on knowing…”

“
I do.”

“
I collect elements from
the periodic table.”

“
Huh? You mean that big
ass chart we all studied in science class?”

“
That would be the
one.”

“
That’s some dangerous
stuff you’re playing with, lady.”

“
The periodic table is a
masterpiece of organized information. It’s set up by number. I’ve
worked my way through almost all of the metals.”

“
Where do you get those
heavy hitters like Barium?”

Vic was surprised he even remembered any of
the elements. He’d hated science in school. In fact, he hated
English and Math, too. About the only thing he did like was
History. He enjoyed learning about folks in other periods of
time.

“
I don’t have Barium yet.
But there are websites that specialize in that type of stuff. Of
course, I don’t collect the radioactive elements.”

“
Of course.”

She narrowed her eyes.
“Well, you asked. What do
you
do for fun?”

“
I write stories about
mythology. Dungeons and Dragons type of thing.”

“
Wow. Are you
serious?”

“
Hell no.” He chuckled at
the fact she’d fallen for his joke so easily.

She frowned. “No fair. I told you my
secrets. You could at least tell me yours.”

“
Collecting elements is a
secret?”

“
I don’t share it with
everyone.”

“
I can see
why.”

Instead of giving Vic the saucy reply he’d
anticipated dodging, she said, “There it is. Up ahead on the right.
The Eden Roc Hotel.”

Vic pulled into the circular drive of the
luxury hotel. The white high-rise jutted into the sky, each of its
floors lit up with the ocean as its backdrop. He’d heard of the
iconic Miami Beach hotel, but he’d never been inside. Couldn’t
afford anything on this grand scale. But then again, if he’d had a
woman of Ronnie Jones’ caliber in his bed, it might be worth
emptying his bank account.

He navigated around the overzealous valet
attendants. “Here you are, my queen,” he imitated a fine English
butler accent. “I’ve dropped you off at the front of the palace. Or
did you want me to go around the back so no one could see us?”

She let out an exasperated breath.
“Scientists must have isolated the cantankerous gene and saved it
all for you.”

“
Nah,” he quipped. “I did
my college thesis on the subject.”

“
Well, thank you for the
ride.”

That would have been the end of it. Ronnie
Jones was supposed to get out of his Explorer and make a
fashionable entrance, never to grace his life with her presence
again. But she was locked in. She struggled with the door.

“
So, you plan to kidnap me
now?” she asked.

“
Dang. I forgot about the
childproof door.”

Vic hopped out and went around to the back
passenger-side to let her out. Once again, he did the gentlemanly
thing and offered his hand. When one of her shapely legs stepped
out, he sucked in a breath. Ice Queen had transformed into a
temptress. A stunning black sequined dress dripping with elaborate
beadwork clung to every curve, replacing the dull pantsuit she’d
worn earlier. Loose tendrils of hair from the bun she’d quickly
fashioned and secured with a pair of blinged-out chopsticks framed
her lovely face.

“
Wow!” He didn’t hold
back. “You look amazing.”

Ronnie’s heart thumped in her chest. A
compliment from Vic Romano? If she was younger, she might have
blushed. It felt good to hear his words of praise; see the shock on
his face.

His massive hand enveloped hers as he helped
her from the vehicle. The heat from his touch infiltrated her
senses, traveling like a jolt of electricity, and settling in the
pit of her stomach like a live current. He felt good. There was no
denying it. There was something warm and erotic about how he held
her hand—not like the cold way he’d shaken it days ago in her
office. This was personal, almost as though he was caressing her
palm.

She glanced at him, and her knees nearly
buckled at the hungry look in his eyes. It was the look of a man
who really wanted a woman. Raw desire. It had been years since any
man looked at her like that. Vic Romano was the type of man who
could back that look up. He could, no doubt, deliver on all of his
wicked promises. She wondered what it would feel like to be the
object of his desire.