Come To Me (2 page)

Her
eyes popped open. “What?” She hadn’t even thought so far. Her mind stuck on the
fact he was truly getting on a plane to have a date with her. “I'll pick you
up.” If he traveled all the way to the West Coast to meet her, it’s the least
she could do, and it would also be a way for her to maintain some sense of
control. Something she seemed to be lacking with him.

“I’ll
talk to you soon and see you later. And Jasmine, if it makes you feel better,
I’m scared, too.”

She
smiled. He’d said just the right words to let her know she just might be doing
the right thing. “Good night, Baron.” Jasmine disconnected the call and placed
the phone in its charging cradle. Rolling onto her side, she stared at the oil
painting on her wall, a copy of a Monet. She always loved the colors. The muted
greens, blues and oranges provided her with the tranquility she sought at night
in her bedroom. Staring at the painting helped a little tonight, but Baron had
hit the nail on the head: she was scared. And knowing he felt that way, too,
lifted some of her apprehension.

Oh,
good God! What the hell had she agreed to? On second thought, she wasn't
scared, she was terrified. But there was something going on between them.
Something she could feel even over the cellular waves of the phone. She’d felt
it from the first time she’d heard his voice six months ago, and it’d gotten
stronger ever since. No man had ever made her feel this way. Yet they’d never
actually met.

At
twenty-nine years old, she wasn’t a virgin, but she was attractive enough to be
able to go out with someone whenever the mood struck her. But, since her two
best friends had gotten married, she dated mostly to ward off loneliness. She
wondered if Baron saw so many women for the same reason, yet getting close to
none of them. He’d told her two of his closest buddies had married this past
year, and his best friend was engaged. Perhaps, he’d been lonely, too.

At
least she'd been in a serious relationship once, right after college. After
three years, and no ring in sight, they mutually called it quits. She’d been
satisfied in her professional accomplishments, but on some level searching
without finding the missing piece in her life. Until she’d heard his voice. She
couldn’t wait for him to call her back. She couldn't wait to finally meet him.
How pathetic was that?

The
ringing of the telephone jarred her awake. One of the reasons she managed three
large condo complexes was because she seldom slept. She just naturally needed
very little slumber to function. And while a staff worked under her, who was
supposed to handle general calls, if there was a real problem, they sent those
calls to her. She could take them anywhere, any time. But she'd given Baron her
cell number months ago so he could call her directly. None of her other clients
had it.

She
reached for the instrument of torture. “Hello,” she spoke groggily. A rare
state, she usually got up bright-eyed and alert. But she had been too excited
to immediately return to the land of slumber earlier. Judging by the weak,
early morning sunlight filtering through her closed curtains, she'd only had a
couple of hours of rest.

“It’s
me, baby.”

At
the sound of his voice, she was suddenly wide-awake. “Baron.”

“Yes.
I'm sitting on a plane. I didn't relish calling and waking you any earlier than
I had to. I wanted you to get your sleep. So you’re well rested for our date.
My flight leaves in a few minutes, then I’ll have to turn off my phone. I get
in around eleven-thirty. I’m on Southwest flight 79. If you can’t pick me up,
I'll rent a car at the airport, go to a hotel and wait for you.”

“Eleven-thirty.”
So soon. She wanted to both shout for joy and scream in fear. “Yes. I can meet
you then at the baggage claim.” The thought of finally meeting him had her mind
spinning and her temperature soaring. Her heart banged against her ribs as she
clutched the phone in her hand, her lifeline to him. “Hurry.” The word came out
on a rush of air.

“I’m
coming, baby. Hang on. I’m coming.”

The
call disconnected before she could ask him what he looked like so she'd
recognize him, or told him what she would be wearing. Well, she'd just call him
after his flight landed. But she felt she'd know him on sight. He'd be the one
who made her heart race.

Chapter
Three

Baron
tightened his grip on the weekend bag he carried, and since he sat in first
class, he was one of the first passengers off the plane. He breathed a sigh of
relief as he exited. Like a mantra, one word kept repeating through his head.
Soon.
He'd finally see her. Be with her,
hold her. Soon.

Even
though he had his things with him, he followed the signs to the baggage claim
area where they’d agreed to meet. His long strides took him quickly to the
conveyer marked off for his plane. Passengers from other flights were in front
of him and they, too, stopped in the area. There were many people standing
around waiting on travelers and the bags from adjacent areas. Some were older,
some younger, all different hues and representing different cultures. One of
those faces could belong to his Jasmine. Narrowing his gaze, he turned it more
slowly over the crowd, examining all the women. He'd almost called her from the
phone on the plane to tell her what he looked like so she'd be able to find
him. Then he changed his mind. He wanted to see if he'd know her. The same way
he knew her voice, or if she'd recognize him.

There
were quite a few bodies around and more passing by. A family of four moved
aside to wave at someone behind him. At that moment, he noticed two women
standing a little apart beside a pillar, one glanced around as though searching
for someone rather than waiting for luggage, the other stared in his direction.
Both were stunning.

Long
blonde hair cascaded around one lady’s shoulders like a cloud. Dark sunglasses
covered her eyes. She possessed one of those bodies young men fantasized about
and grown men dreamed of. But when she looked at him, the look on her face was
one he'd seen on women many times before. He wasn't conceited, but he'd been
aware of the power of his looks since he turned fourteen and was initiated into
sex by a twenty-year-old. But something wasn't quite right. A different kind of
recognition clicked for him. Been there, done that.

He
focused his gaze on the other equally stunning woman beside her. Both about the
same average height, even the same body type, enough curves to make their
gender unmistakable. Her generous breasts, stuffed into a similar V-neck
T-shirt, strained against the fabric. The blonde glowed from her tan by the
sun. The other had straight, dark chestnut-colored hair just passed her
shoulders, but her complexion looked like rich, creamy milk chocolate. No
shades covered her large onyx eyes, a beautiful contrast to her skin tone. A
smile didn't grace her lush mouth, but the sparkle in her eyes drew him to her
like the sea to the shore.

He
came directly to her, never hesitating or stopping until he pressed against her
and enclosed his arm around her waist. “Hello, Jasmine. I'm here.” Then his
lips found hers, and the world rocked.

Jasmine's
emotions warred between anger at his presumption, amusement at his arrogance,
and downright triumph at the sight and feel of him. And the fact she had known
Baron as soon as she'd spied him heading toward the baggage claim area for his
flight. She wasn’t sure how she sensed the panty-soaking guy was the one she’d
been waiting on in more ways than she’d admit aloud but she knew. In spite of
his high-handedness, the emotion dominating over all was a pure rightness of
being infused her soul. She was exactly where she belonged—tucked in his
embrace.

When
she first saw him, she clutched her friend Karen's shoulder for support. The
phrase ‘weak in the knees’ held a whole new concept for her. About six-four,
just the height she liked, built a mite larger than a soccer player. It also didn’t
hurt his biceps almost wanted to pop out of the seams of his polo shirt. His
thick, wavy hair, long enough to fall just above his eyes and cover his ears,
reminded her of the shade of her mother's sable coat. High cheekbones defined
his face, his lips soft but firm, extremely kissable, and his midnight-blue
eyes drifted closed as he covered her mouth and used his tongue to suck her
soul out of her body and into his safe keeping.

Jasmine
shut her eyes, inhaled his woodsy fragrance, and wound her arms around his
neck. She reveled in the soft silkiness of his hair against her bare arms, and
quite frankly had no intention of letting go until she realized someone else
tugged on her elbow making funny sounds. Not the moans of bliss coming from him
or her. Then time and thought intruded. She remembered where she was, who she
was, and that her friend stood at her side. Opening her eyes, she leaned away,
but her world remained off its axis. His eyes immediately flickered and stared
directly into hers. She felt herself reversing direction and moving back into
him, connecting her mouth with his once more. Finally, he stepped back but
didn't release his hold from around her waist.

“I
can't believe you made me wait six months to do that.” His voice was just as
she’d heard it in her ear for so many nights. But deeper, throatier, and she
wanted to make him growl or purr.

She
grinned. “I know. But…I don’t understand…how?”

He
placed his forehead against hers. “I don't know, babe, nor do I care. I just
know it is. By the way, I'm Baron. Do you mind that I'm white?”

“Do
you mind that I’m not?”

Like
crazy people, they started laughing, but this was so not funny. As they began
to sober, they shifted toward each other again. Before their lips could make
contact, a pale hand with red polish on the nails spread between their faces.

“Ahem!
I’m still here. If anyone cares to know.”

They
both leaned away from each other. Jasmine turned, still in Baron's embrace, and
looked at her friend, laughing again. “I'm sorry, Karen. This is Baron.” She
cocked her head to glance at him. “Baron this is my best friend, Karen
Desmond.”

“Hello,”
he said, grinning. He moved one arm from around Jasmine's waist but gripped her
hand instead. He squeezed it like he meant to hang on to it forever.

“How
did you know?” Karen asked. She looked around. “There are lots of passengers
and other people waiting here.”

“Yeah,”
Jasmine asked. “How did you know?” When she told Karen she was meeting Baron,
her friend wouldn't let her go by herself, just in case. She'd talked to her
about Baron a while ago, about how he made her feel like he gave a damn. He had
her entertaining thoughts of the possibility of him being part of her life.
Karen, a newlywed and a certified romantic, claimed she and Baron were having some
sort of weird over-the-phone courtship. Jasmine had laughed at her at first,
but she wasn't now.

Baron
shrugged wide shoulders. “I just did. How did you know, or do you let just any
strange man walk up and kiss you?”

“Hey,”
Jasmine cried, trying to tug away from his grasp. But he coaxed her closer and
kissed the tip of her nose.

“Kidding.”
He grinned. “I know you don’t. Just as I know this is a first for the both of
us.”

“Oh,
okay,” Karen said. “I know when I’m not wanted.”

Jasmine
turned and glanced sheepishly at her smirking friend. “Thanks for coming with
me, Karen. I'll drop you back at the store.” She explained to Baron. “Karen is
the regional manager for a trendy chain of teen stores. She travels from store
to store around San Diego checking on things.”

It
felt both strange and natural to have Baron at her side holding her hand as
they all went out to her car. In the past, handholding was not something she
enjoyed doing. Either the guy was too tall or short, or it was just awkward.
Usually, the man walked too fast or slow and she was pulled along or the one
doing the pulling. But with Baron, they moved in sync.

“How
was the flight?” Jasmine asked.

“Not
fast enough.”

Karen
rolled her eyes, but she grinned at his reply. Jasmine couldn’t stop grinning
since he’d taken her into his arms. She only wanted to return there again.

They
arrived where her car was parked. She opened the trunk of her car, and Baron
threw his bag in, released his hold on her before climbing into the front seat
since Karen had already gotten into the back.

After
they drove onto the freeway, Karen moved between their seats and spoke.

“So,
Baron, have you been to San Diego before?”

He
looked over his shoulder. “No, not San Diego. But I’ve been to Baja and L.A.
That’s it for the West Coast.” He returned his attention to Jasmine.

“How
about you, Jas, ever been to D.C.?”

It
didn't escape her notice he'd just shortened her name. Surprisingly, not many
people did, but she liked the sound of it coming from him. She suspected he
could call her pretty much anything and get away with it, as long as he called
her. Sad but true.

“Nope.
The nearest I’ve been are New York and Florida.”

“You’ll
have to come to D.C., soon. Real soon,” he said.

Jasmine
remained quiet, allowing her talkative friend to drive the conversation and
pump Baron for information. Details she starved for, but didn't dare ask. But
her witch of a friend waited until she’d pulled up to the mall entrance to drop
her bombshell question. The one they never got around to asking.

Karen
opened the door and set one foot on the sidewalk. “Thanks for the lift,
Jasmine. Call me later, if you can. By the way Baron, where are you staying?”

The
blaring truck horn behind her car had her yelling at Karen to get out of the
car. She heard her friend's laughter as she closed the door.

“I
apologize for her,” she said as they drove away. “She's nosy, what can I say,
but that’s kind of a good question. Where are you staying?” With me, with me,
say with me. What, was she nuts? She barely knew the guy. That’s what this trip
was for, wasn’t it? Christ, she wasn’t sure what the hell the trip was for.

He
gazed at her. “I was hoping you'd have a suggestion.”

She
glanced at him before she made a turn onto another street. “Finally, you're leaving
something up to me?” Sighing and resigned, she said, “I have a two-bedroom
place on the water. You can take the guest room.”

Jasmine
made her position clear. She owed him a room but that’s all. As hot and
promising as their kiss had been, and as much as she looked forward to more,
she was not sleeping with him. At least...not yet.

“Okay.
Thanks.”

“Are
you hungry?”

“Yes.”

Her
head snapped around to look at him. From the sparks glowing in his eyes, he
wasn’t talking about food. She turned her attention back to the road.

At
the next light, he took her hand off the wheel and kissed her fingers. “I'm
glad you let me come. Thank you.”

“You’re
welcome,” she croaked. She cleared her throat twice before she thought she
could speak without sounding like a damn frog. “Ah, I know of a little Italian
place not far from my condo. They have great pasta dishes or pizza, if you’re
in the mood.”

“Sounds
good.” He released his hold on her and sat back in his seat, but he kept
watching her. And she couldn't stop her gaze from drifting to him every chance
she got.

The
restaurant wasn’t too crowded, so they were served quickly. At first she was
hungry but now seated across from Baron at a little table, a half-eaten pizza
between them, Jasmine wasn't sure she was going to be able to stick to the
arrangement. How could she have this drop-dead-gorgeous man in her house, steps
away from her, knowing he wanted her—yeah, he made it clear in every
look, every touch—and not want to jump his bones? No, that’s not what she
desired. She needed to crawl so far inside his soul there’d be no way to remove
her without tearing out his heart. The thought froze her brain. The slice of
pizza halfway to her mouth suddenly lost its appeal. Slowly, she placed it back
on the platter and raised her head looking at him. What was happening to her?

He
met her eyes, and his gaze never stopped blazing. “Let's go,” he said. He waved
the waiter over and took care of the bill. Taking her arm, he guided her out of
the restaurant and to her car. “Do you want me to drive? You can direct me.”

“No,
I’m fine. I’ll drive.”