Blindsided (Indigo Love Spectrum)

“You don’t have to worry, Lara, I won’t take advantage
of your friend.” Norris Converse smiled brightly at the
friend in question. Had he not met the gorgeous Dahlia Sinclair on his own two months earlier, he’d be giving his best friend’s wife big thanks for sending Dahlia and her
business his way. “I’ll see you and Ryan later. Bye.”

Norris hung up the phone and approached his lovely
companion. “Lara’s afraid I’m going to disturb your
fragile sensibilities.” He laughed. “Little does she know.”

“Thanks for not saying anything to her.” Dahlia
smoothed out her skirt, which was slightly wrinkled from
their torrid encounter on his desk. “I don’t think she’ll
understand our arrangement,” she said, combing her fin
gers through her short, perfectly coiffed dark hair.

“Our arrangement?” He pulled her close to him. Her
curvy body fit perfectly against his, and at a couple inches
shy of his six feet of height, she was a woman he didn’t
have to strain his neck to kiss. It was like she was made
for him. “You mean hot, guilt-free, no strings sex? What’s
not to understand? It’s my prescription for a full and
happy life.”

A hint of rouge toasted Dahlia’s rich brown cheeks.
Norris smiled. He enjoyed teasing her about their
arrangement. He enjoyed everything about Dahlia the
d
azzling divorcée, a fact he found exciting and unsettling.
He didn’t get this excited about women. They generally
came and went. But not Dahlia. And as much as it scared
him, he rather liked it.

Agnes, his trusted assistant and self-proclaimed mother in Denburg, South Carolina, had announced Dahlia and
shown her in more than half an hour before. Less than two
minutes later, Dahlia lay atop his desk with her glorious
long legs wrapped about his waist, moaning her pleasure.

A very proud and notorious playboy, Norris had
never allowed his extra-curricular activities to cross into
his business life. To indulge a woman in his workplace
was a staunch no-no. At least it used to be. Thinking of
what he and Dahlia had just shared aroused him all over
again. He pressed up against her. A deep groan rumbled
in his throat.

“Uh, uh, uh.” Dahlia took a step back. “We need to
move on to other things, Norris. This meeting is about
my audit.”

“You saying we need to get down to business?” He
grinned.

“Yes, real business.” She walked over to the leather
couch and picked up the portfolio she had set down on
her way in. “I think I have everything you need.”

Norris stared at her as she rifled through the papers.
If only she knew.
He remembered the night they met. Valentine’s evening, a holiday along with Thanksgiving
and Christmas that comprised his no-women days.
Those holidays gave women the wrong impressions, and
he wasn’t trying to dole out false hope.

T
hat night, he and Dahlia had both reached for the last copy of
Shrek
in the video rental store. After some
silly bantering over who should get the rental, and real
izing they knew some of the same people, they wound up
watching together at her place. And before the movie
ended they were in each other’s arms.

He hadn’t been with another woman since then, and
had no desire to be. Dahlia’s beautiful heart-shaped
face, brown eyes, and full lips kept him transfixed, and
her impressive business mind was an aphrodisiac in
itself. Thoughts of her filled his days and nights, drawing him dangerously close to a line he never
wanted to cross.

Norris shook his head. The singing birds and blos
soming flowers of springtime must have gone to his head.
He didn’t do relationships and Dahlia didn’t do them
anymore. That’s how they both wanted it, and that’s why
they worked so well.

He buttoned his shirt and moved behind his desk. “I
know audit is a scary word, but from what you told me,
you kept pretty accurate records for the day spas you
sold, and I’m sure the same is the case for the salon you still own, so this should be a breeze.”

“I hope so. The last couple of years have been a bit
trying. Which might explain this audit.” She sighed,
handing over the portfolio.

“Try not to worry. More often than not it’s minor cal
culation errors. And this is just an audit of the year before
last. I’ll take a look at all this, see where we stand, and go from there.”

“
Thanks for your help, Norris.” She flashed her
beguiling smile. “If you need anything else, don’t hesitate
to call.”

Sensing a hidden meaning in her statement, Norris
met her gaze and approached. “The same applies to you,”
he said.

Dahlia trailed her finger down the buttons of his
shirt. “I keep trying to tell myself if nobody knows about
our arrangement, it doesn’t make me a skank.” Her head
dropped. “I should know better. My grandma taught me
better.” She looked deeply into his eyes. “Why don’t I feel
ashamed?”

Norris’s heart pounded. Was Dahlia asking him or
herself that question? Could she feel the change their
relationship had taken? It wasn’t just feel-good sex. It was
so much more. He saw something in her eyes. Something that made him want to open up about feelings he never
wanted to feel. “Dahlia, . . . .”

A feathery soft finger touched his lips, silencing him.
His breath lodged in his throat. Her touch was his
undoing.

“I know what it is,” she said. “It’s the sexy waves in
your jet-black hair, and the devilish twinkle in those
sparkling gray eyes that render women helpless. Tall, dark 
. . . Well, at least as dark as your Greek-Anglo ancestry
will allow.” She laughed. “And handsome.” Her fingers brushed his cheek. “You’re irresistible, Norris Converse.”

“You’re irresistible.” Norris softly kissed her lips, all
too aware he was heading down a slippery slope with no
way of stopping himself. “I’ll call you.”

A
s Norris opened the door, he stepped into all-busi
ness mode for Agnes, who expertly pretended not to be
paying attention. The full-figured older woman with
flaming red hair and an accent that rivaled Scarlett
O’Hara’s thought she’d mastered the technique, but
Norris had known her too long to fall for it. He suspected
she’d probably had her ear to the door a time or two, grinning like a nosy preteen.

“Thank you for coming in, Ms. Sinclair,” Norris said,
escorting Dahlia to the elevator.

“Thanks for your time, Mr. Converse.”

He smiled. “My pleasure.”

“You have a good day, Ms. Sinclair,” Agnes called out
to Dahlia as the elevator doors opened.

Dahlia smiled. “You, too. Good-bye.”

Norris approached the circular reception desk when
the elevator doors closed. “Any calls for me, Agnes?”

The woman grinned at him. “That was a long
meeting.”

“She’s a friend of Lara’s and being audited.”

“What’s that red stuff on your lips?”

Norris brushed his fingers against his mouth.
“Gotcha!” said Agnes, her green eyes dancing with
joy.

Norris grunted, annoyed at falling for her trick.
Dahlia didn’t wear lipstick that smeared.