Designed for Love (6 page)

     
“Probably,
but he’s off waxing the limo.” He winked at her. Securing her door, he moved
around to his side and got in behind the wheel.

     
“For
a man who takes a limo to the grocery store, I didn’t think you still
remembered how to drive.” She loved teasing him. This was light and easy.
Allowing her to think of him as just a friend, nothing more.

     
Laughing,
he said, “That was an exception. However, I had to have something.” He started the
car and maneuvered it out of the visitor’s parking, heading out the gate as the
same rhythmic jazz music she’d heard through the phone earlier filled the car.

     
“Almonds?”
She looked at his profile. The sun hadn’t set yet, and she enjoyed taking in
the site of his masculine features.

     
He
glanced at her then back at the road. “Yeah, almonds.”

     
After
that Chelsi fell silent, enjoying the ride. She wondered what Vincent had
planned for this night. Being this close to him was wreaking havoc on her body,
making her want things she shouldn’t. If she wasn’t careful, things between
them would be moving in a direction she’d told herself repeatedly she didn’t
want to go.

Chapter Five

     
“Where
are we?” Chelsi frowned, looking out the window at the plush lawns, long drives,
and the private golf course.

     
“Piper
Glen,” he informed her, making a right into an entryway.

     
The
thirty minute drive from her condo on the opposite side of Charlotte had been
quiet and comfortable. Neither one of them had been willing to break the
silence.

     
He
watched Chelsi stare through the glass at his neighborhood, taking it all in. She
was a gorgeous woman, but tonight sitting beside him in a dress so sheer the lacy
slip underneath showed, flirting with his senses, she was undeniably sexy.
Seated, her dress rested high on her thighs, leaving a delicious view of her
smooth silky brown legs. He’d had to keep his grip firmly on the wheel to keep
him from touching her.

     
Part
of her attraction was her style. She always wore things that were flattering to
her body and coloring. It wasn’t a shocker. Fashion was in her blood. It was
even embossed on her licensed plate, I-DESIGN. Zeth had found it funny that
Vincent hadn’t figured it out first by the time he’d called Vincent back with
Chelsi’s number and address.

     
“I
know what area this is, but why are we here?”

     
He
continued to progress down the lane until he stopped on the smooth cobble
drive. “It’s my house.” Glancing at the gray stone and the blond brick
structure, he sat in awe alongside her. It never ceased to amaze him how far
he’d come from the trailer park he was raised in.

     
Chelsi’s
eyes and mouth were both wide as she stared at his house. “Oh, my God…” her
words drifted away. Then she looked from the house to him then back at the
house. “I thought we were going to a restaurant.”

     
“Nope,
I’m cooking.” He unsnapped his seat belt and got out. Moving around to her
side, he opened the door and offered his hand to her. Still in a daze, she
clutched his hand. “When I travel, I have to eat out so much that I just want a
home-cooked meal when I get home.”

     
“And
you cook it?” Her eyes squinted, giving him a suspicious look.

     
“Most
of the time. Unless I go to Zeth’s house and his wife Tamara feeds me.”

     
Enjoying
the feel of her soft hand in his own, he walked with her to the door and didn’t
let go. Once inside, he asked, “Are hungry, or would you prefer the tour first?”

     
The
desire to take her up the marble staircase to his bedroom and make love to her
assailed him. For a moment he considered that bringing her to his home may not
have been the best idea. A restaurant would have been safer without the
constant reminder that just above them was a room with a
California
king mattress available.

     
Her
stomach answered before her mouth with a growl, breaking the tension. Laughing,
she rubbed her mid-section. “I guess food first is the request.”

     
“Right
this way.” Still holding her hand, he led her into his kitchen area. He liked
the fact that she hadn’t attempted to remove her hand from his. Maybe she was
becoming comfortable around him again.

     
“You’re
home is truly beautiful. How long have you owned it?” she asked, looking around
as they passed through the living room with a wide glass door giving a view of
his yard.

     
“A
few years, it took me a while to find the right place. You can sit here while I
get dinner going.” He pulled out a chair at the table in the nook of the
kitchen. He removed his suit jacket and draped it over the back of another
chair and rolled up his shirt sleeves.

     
Once
she was settled, he moved to the refrigerator. He’d called his housekeeper,
Linda, before he’d left
Chicago
with a list of items, in hopes that Chelsi would agree to go out with him. Taking
out the paper-wrapped chicken cutlets he placed them on the counter. Next he
grabbed a bunch of green grapes and pepper jack cheese and made her a small
platter. Taking the dish to her, he said, “This should stave off the hunger
long enough for me to get dinner ready.”

     
“I’m
not going to pass out or anything, Vincent.” She smiled as she stole a grape
and popped it into her mouth.

     
Hearing
the sound of his name and seeing that beautiful smile sent heat throughout his
body. “I just wanted to make sure.” He moved away quickly.

     
“So
tell me about how Vincent Poindexter became the boss man of Point Corporation.”
She continued to nibble on her appetizer, alternating from cheese to grapes.

     
“After
college I got a job working in the acquisitions department in Chicago at
Johnson and Peterson Corporation, a mid-level firm.” He cleaned, seasoned, and
marinated the meat as he talked then placed it back in the refrigerator in a
covered dish. Small red potatoes were next.

     
He
dropped them into a pot of water to boil while he continued, “After a few years
being there, I left and started a few small business ventures of my own. Most
of them didn’t pan out, I must admit. Not because they weren’t good ideas, but
some problems were due to backing and others lack of experience on my part. Not
knowing what to look for.”

     
“I
bet that was frustrating.” She was no longer eating, just sitting at the table
with her long striking legs crossed, giving him her full attention.

     
At
that moment, his entire life and everything he’d accomplished felt like nothing.
To the outside world he had everything financial a person could ask for to make
them happy, but this was something he had missed in all of his aspirations,
someone to sincerely listen to him. Not just anyone. Chelsi.

     
Clearing
his throat, he said, “It was, but also one learning experience after another.” After
taking the zucchini out of the refrigerator, he washed and sliced it. Adding
sea salt, black pepper, and a little garlic powder to the circles, he set them
off to the side and turned on the grill.

“How
so?”

     
“It
taught me how to get involved in every aspect of my company. At first I would
hire people to do the job and sit back waiting for updates on products and
progress. I didn’t know enough to see if something was low cost because it was
poor craftsmanship. After the third business failed, I learned to ask questions,
do more research. Even though I left J and P, Mr. Johnson became a mentor to
me. Someone I could go to for advice.”

     
Those
years he’d gotten close to Bryan Johnson, it had been nice having someone to
confide in, especially since he’d never had a close relationship with his own
parents. To his father, Keith Poindexter, if it wasn’t NASCAR, it didn’t
matter.

     
“I’m
sure that meant a lot to you.” Chelsi voiced his thoughts.

     
That
wasn’t unusual. When they had dated, she’d always been a sensitive person,
being able to understand him even when he didn’t express what he was feeling.

     
“It
did.” The grill was now ready. He got the potatoes out of the rapidly boiling
water before they got too soft then cut them in half and treated them with the
same seasoning combination as the zucchini.

     
“Wasn’t
Mr. Johnson concerned that as your knowledge and companies grew you would be a
rival for him, possibly taking business away?”

     
“J
and P specialized in real-estate.” He moved from the island where he washed his
hands to the refrigerator for the meat. Crossing the kitchen to the stove with
the center grill, he removed the two pieces of chicken from the plate and
placed them on the range. “They acquire and build hotels, apartments, houses,
and casinos. I, on the other hand, enjoy building companies and working with
the small American business owners.”

     
They
continued to discuss his company while he placed the potatoes then the zucchini
on the grill around the cutlets and began his red wine mushroom sauce in a pan.

“Do
you talk to your family much?”

     
Her
question caused several emotions to rocket through his body—disappointment,
pain, and anger. All the time he spent at Chelsi’s house the summer after
graduation, he knew she was close with her parents and siblings. They had a warm
and caring relationship. The same couldn’t be said for his household.

     
His
dad had worked for thirty years at a chicken farm and hated every day of it.
Every evening he came home and took it out on his family. There were no
beatings, but he yelled and screamed so many discouraging words it had always
made Vincent wish his father had just hit him and shut-up.

     
His
mother hadn’t been any better. She’d always told him that getting pregnant with
him had ruined her life because her parents forced her marry his dad.

     
Looking
behind him at Chelsi, he remembered what it was like when he visited her home.
Being around the Halifax’s, where they cared and supported each other, always
made him yearn for a loving family. A wife who listened and children to play
games with, a home. He wanted it all.

     
Turning
back to the food, he stirred the sauce, flipped the chicken, and said, “No, I
don’t contact my family. My dad died four years ago—”

     
“I’m
sorry to hear that.” He heard the tapping of her shoes on the floor before he
felt her presence beside him. Her hand rested on his shoulder.

     
Turning,
he looked at her. Seeing the sadness in her gaze made his chest tighten. Chelsi
had always been sensitive. He wondered if her sorrow was for his father’s death
or for him. Offering her a half-smile, he shrugged. “It’s okay. As you know we
weren’t close, and I stopped mourning for him before I was a teenager.”

     
She
removed her hand but didn’t go back to her seat. Instead, she leaned back
against the center island facing him. “What about mom? How is she? Still
living?”

     
“Yup.
She lives in a retirement community in
Arizona
with her older sister. I pay her expenses and have a stipend set up for
whatever else she wants to blow it on. As long as she has money, she has no
reason to call. It works for us both.”

     
Standing
there so comfortable and casual in his kitchen, he couldn’t resist closing the
gap between them. There was still a fair amount of sadness in her pretty, light
brown eyes. Placing a hand on the counter on each side of her hips, he caged
her in. He didn’t want her feeling pity for him. Testing her reaction, he
stepped closer, allowing his body to brush hers, but not pressing against her. She
didn’t bolt or reject him. Instead, her gaze caressed his face as she waited
for his next move.

     
“Happy
Birthday, Chelsi,” he whispered, lowering his head to lightly touch her lips
with his. He stopped there and waited, taking in her delicious sweet scent.
There was no way he would pressure her for something she had no desire to give
him.

     
When
her hand slid around the back of his head and she lifted her body to seal their
lips together, his restraint broke, and he kissed her. Barely mindful of the
food on the stove, he kept his hands gripped around the edge of the countertop
as his tongue swept inside her mouth. He did it again, and her nails grazed the
nape of his neck. That one simple touch rocked his core, making him ache with desire
and causing his cock to rise.

     
If
he didn’t stop, the food would burn, and he’d be taking her on the heated
marble floor. Pulling back, he stared in her eyes and noticed that every shadow
of grief had been removed and replaced by a lust that mirrored his own.

     
“Dinner
is ready. Why don’t you take a seat?”

     
Her
hands slid from behind his head as he moved away, taking things off the stove
and plating the items. He missed her touch, but spending time with her meant a
lot to him. It didn’t just feed his need to make love to her but gave him peace.

“Anywhere
in particular?” she asked.

     
“Let’s
eat in the dining room. I don’t ordinarily use it, but it’s your special day,
birthday girl.” When he noticed her looking from one entrance to the next, he
said, “Through the archway to your left.”

“Got
it.” She smiled and left the room.

     
Vincent
sighed with relief. He needed the small amount of time it took to get all the
food on the plates and pour them a glass of Australian Chardonnay to get his
body in line with his head. Chelsi called out to him on a basic level, much stronger
than when they were kids trying to figure out their bodies’ desires. Every time
he was around her, he had to fight to not to take her in his arms and ravish
her.