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Sensual Winds
Carmen Green
Giving her boss's fiancé the kiss-off isn't in Doreen Fleming's job description. But when she meets the soon-to-be ex, gorgeous real estate developer Lucas McCoy, Doreen knows she's headed for a storm tide of trouble.Building his dream house isn't the same without someone to share it. Doreen may be just the messenger, but she's unleashing a tempest inside Lucas that's tempting him to risk his heart again.Then a hurricane hits, stranding Lucas and Doreen in the house of both their dreams. As the winds howl outside, the passion rages inside–hotter than the sweltering summer night…and twice as explosive.
He’d never been kissed like this before, and he held her there, enjoying the journey through this uncharted and gentle place
She caressed the back of his head, and when he thought she was separating from him, he was filled with irrational longing, and he grabbed her arms and used his lips to capture her by the chin.
He’d seen animals mate on nature shows, their foreplay of nipping one another playful and gentle, and he understood that visceral animalistic instinct to claim one and make that one his own.
Purring started deep in her belly, and he put his arms around her, knowing she felt that magnetism too, and when the moans were nearly out of her, he sealed her mouth with his so they released into him.
The pressure of her mouth lessened and she eased off her toes, her hands busy at his waist. Her fingers tangled with his as they battled for who’d get his belt loosened first.
“Let me.”
“I can do it faster,” he told her.
CARMEN GREEN
was born in Buffalo, New York, and had plans to study law before becoming a published author. While raising her three children, she wrote her first book on legal pads and transcribed it onto a computer on weekends before selling it in 1993. Since that time she has sold more than thirty novels and novellas, and is proud that one of her books was made into a 2001 TV movie, Commitments, in which she had a cameo role.
In addition to writing full-time, Carmen is now a mom of four, and lives in the Southeast. You can contact Carmen at www.carmengreen.blogspot.com or carmengreen1201@yahoo.com.
Sensual Winds
Carmen Green
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Lori Bryant Woolridge, Nina Foxx, Martrice Denson.
I’ll cherish our friendship always.
To the Sparrow. I’ll see you in the Rapture someday.
Dear Reader,
To the sensual backdrop of Herbie Hancock’s CD Possibilities, Brenda Jackson and I brainstormed our MOTHER NATURE MATCHMAKER novels over the phone one evening.
I am always honored to work with a master, and Brenda is one of the best in our profession. She’s chock-full of ideas and always respectful of mine. Ironically, when we got on the phone, we both had our TVs tuned to the same station and the documentary was chronicling how Herbie created his masterpiece. My favorite song on the CD? “A Song for You.”
I’m honored to have worked with Brenda and Celeste Norfleet on this series, and I want you all to enjoy our highly favored men of Key West. My thanks to Brenda and Celeste and to you all for giving us the opportunity to entertain you once again.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on my book Sensual Winds. Write to me at carmengreen.blogspot.com or carmengreen1201@yahoo.com.
Blessings,
Carmen
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 1
There was a rhythm to New York City at 7:00 p.m. that no other city could duplicate. Throngs of people streamed down sidewalks and into streets, the innocuous traffic lights controlling every man and woman, car, taxi and bus.
Today Manhattan was a little different; brightened by the mayor, who’d declared it Smile Day. Dozens of volunteers had been dispatched around Manhattan to take pictures of anyone who was smiling, and then they were given their photo.
Today, everybody was smiling in New York City at dusk.
Ten floors up from the bustling streets, Doreen Gamble sat at her desk and touched the corner of her smiling photo. Her pace had been frenetic at lunch. She had been trying to balance a tray of two large cups of green tea, a boxy Crate and Barrel wedding gift for a coworker, a prized bag of Christian Louboutin silk lace-up sandals and a political magazine when she’d been asked if she wanted to brighten up New York with her smile. It didn’t hurt that the photographers had goofy Smile tiaras on their heads.
They’d been so irresistible, she’d been glad to show off her whitened, otherwise uncorrected thirty-twos. She didn’t even mind donating to the charity that supported the 9/11 memorial fund. She’d arrived back at work feeling as if she’d done some good for the world.
The back line rang, and her thoughts returned to the here and now. Doreen hoped it was Lucas. Lately, his no-news updates had left her disappointed, but she hoped he had some good news today.
“Good morning—evening, sorry,” Doreen corrected, shoving her long hair behind her ear. “How may I help you?”
“You work so much you don’t even know if it’s day or night? Tell that woman of mine to give you a day off.”
Lucas McCoy’s voice had the power to make her feel as if even on her worst day she was the prettiest girl in the room. If he made every woman feel this way, it was no wonder he did more renovation jobs for women than men.
Who could help having a tiny crush on him? She couldn’t.
“Put me on webcam, Doreen,” he said. She blushed, wishing she’d had a few extra minutes to fix herself up. Lucas wasn’t her man, but she still didn’t want to look bad to him.
She did as he instructed. “We’re on. Hey there,” she said, seeing the handsome man who was in his jeans and T-shirt.
“Hi.” He waved. “Now, about the crazy hours you work. You need to stand up for yourself. Stomp around your desk with your picket sign. She’ll get the hint.”
Doreen laughed. “Yeah, okay. I like having a job. Besides, would she care? I don’t think so. My job is to be here, at seven at night, waiting for a phone call from that crazy, distant place called Key West, and a man named Lucas who’s calling to tell me about an Alfiere Italian sink. Tell me you have good news.”
She’d said it all as if she were in a poetry reading, letting the words drop and roll in all the right places.
“I’m sorry.” He shook his head, trying to look sad. “This is a ‘bad news, good news’ webcam call.”
Doreen groaned. “I have to say, Lucas, I’m disappointed.”
“And if you make that sound again, I’ll be coming through the camera to make that disappointment go away.”
“Lucas McCoy, you’re an engaged man,” she chastised, her neck burning at the volley. Lucas’s good looks hadn’t been lost on Doreen. She had always been attracted to tall men, considering she was five-ten.
He looked like the corporate type, too, with short hair and a sexy goatee, and smooth, chocolate-colored skin that reminded her of melted kisses. She knew from her boss that he was thirty; in fact, Emma had boasted about dating a man nine years younger. But Lucas was the perfect age for her, only a year older.
“Doreen, where has that wandering mind taken you?”
She shook herself. “Nowhere, Lucas. What did you say?” Guiltily she paid attention.
“You know my fiancée hasn’t been down here in eight months, and if she doesn’t get her butt down here soon, there’ll be hell to pay.”
“Emma wants to see you, but her promotion means big things here at Regents Cable.” Doreen sat back in her chair and crossed her legs, relieved he still sounded playful. “She’s the first black woman to hold the title of VP of urban development, and they’re expecting great things from her.”
“I know.” Lucas didn’t look like he cared one thing about the excuse. “I’m not begrudging her career success. Not for a second. But a man needs his woman, especially one he’s proposed to. Anyway, we’ll work it out. Meanwhile, let me update you on the renovations.”
Happy to be on safer ground, Doreen rested her elbow on the desk and sighed. “Let me guess. Which wall have you knocked down now?”
“I haven’t knocked down any walls. All fifteen rooms have walls. The library, great room, game room, kitchen, laundry room, both offices, tackle room and—”
“Hold it. What’s a tackle room?”
“A room for when I come in from fishing. I need a room for my tackle.” He looked serious as he said it until he started laughing. “I needed a couple sinks to gut and clean the fish, too. Not unless she wants me in the kitchen, and I just don’t see that happening.”
He sounded like the old Lucas now. The fun-loving, happy guy who used to call several times a day seeking Emma’s advice. Initially Emma had sounded happy about the house Lucas had been renovating for them in Key West, then she’d come in one day and confessed over a nonfat latte that she wasn’t interested in wallpaper swatches and drywall width, so she’d dropped the whole project and his calls into Doreen’s lap. Now they talked about everything from wood to wallpaper every day.
Doreen pretended to shiver. “I’ve seen one fish gutted and I don’t ever have to see it again,” she said. His laughter conjured up for her sexy, if illicit, images of him. “Go on.”
“The formal dining and breakfast rooms are done. Oh, and the master suite is done. One bedroom upstairs is done, but we’re still working on the foyer. The floor in the powder room on the main level needs a little work, and of course the other three bedrooms are unfinished. Those are rooms Emma won’t want to use right away, but if I have my say…”
He was talking about children, of course. Which Emma had confessed to her just last week she’d never really wanted.
“I’m sure you’ll compromise,” Doreen said, hating knowing Emma’s side while hearing the wistful dreams in Lucas’s voice. Doreen couldn’t look at him. Who wouldn’t want kids with him? She’d grown up alone and had longed for brothers and sisters, if only to fill the loneliness of losing her mother early.
“Doreen, I can practically hear my biological clock ticking.”
Laughter snaked out of her like a curl of smoke. “You are out of your mind today, Lucas. What’s up with you?”
He groaned. “The question is what’s right. Nothing. Must be this Hurricane Ana. Gorgeous name for a woman, but the storm’s a real witch. She came through a couple days ago and she’s still dogging our island. We need a break. I need some vitamin D, some sunshine, wine and a good woman.”
“I’ve heard the reports, Lucas. But I thought you grew up in Key West. You’re not used to the weather down there?”
“I am, but I spent a lot of time in New York as a young man. My father was from Harlem and my mother from the Keys. My father wanted me to be a stockbroker like him. I became one and hated it.”
“When did you have time for that and school to become an architect?”
“You have to have a major and a minor,” he said, smiling.
“My goodness,” she said, impressed. “You must have been some type of genius.”
Lucas pretended to straighten a tie he wasn’t wearing. “You know I try to tell my best friends, Stephen and Terrence, to bow to my brilliance, but they don’t give a damn. They’re always telling me to shut up.”
Doreen burst out laughing. “Do they beat you up a little, too?”
“They know better.”
“So, what’s going on with the marble? You never told me. Are you still holding out hope that it will come in? If you are, forget it. It’s not too late to go with bamboo. Innovative, right?”
She nervously fingered her hair, hoping he’d take the bait and not want to talk about Emma. Doreen didn’t think she could handle a talk about what he should do about her boss.
“More like crazy. Stop worrying. I’ve got a guy.”
Doreen started laughing again. She loved the expression “I’ve got a guy.” Here in the city, having “a guy” usually involved something illegal. “Lucas, I’m hanging up now. I’m not listening to your story about how something fell off the back of a truck.”
“Ms. Gamble, I’m appalled at the direction of your thoughts. I would never participate in anything unsavory.”
“What about Mo?”
“I plead the Fifth on Mo. I don’t know what the hell he does,” he said, and they both chuckled. “I thought you wanted to hear about your sink?”
Her sink.
Now that was quite an oxymoron. The sink was no more hers than the house was. She was merely stepping in for her boss. Emma had cringed at the idea of domestication, preferring the big paycheck. She’d been unflinching in her quest for success, practicing her acquired skill set of delegating with executive aplomb.
“Lucas to Doreen,” he singsonged when her attention wavered again. “What’s with you today?”
“Just thinking of all the things I have to do when I get home. Forgive me. Please tell me about m—the sink.”
