Determined (Determined Trilogy Book 1) (7 page)

Wow. Inside the dress bag was a long gown, glittering with ivory sequins from head to toe. I took it out. All the sequins made the dress quite heavy. I slipped it over my head and turned to face the mirror. It had long sleeves, a wide neck, a fitted bodice, and a deep slit up the front. I hadn’t ever worn anything like it. I couldn’t imagine having an occasion that would call for such a gown. It fit like a glove. I loved it.

As I reached for another bag, I found myself guessing the contents.

Yep, I knew it. Shoes.

I lifted the lid to find a delicate pair of metallic heeled sandals. I knew the brand from magazines, but had never worn a pair. I was just not the type to spend half a month’s rent on a pair of shoes. I sat down at my desk and slipped on the shoes one at a time. The heel was high, but something about the design made it manageable. I stood in front of the mirror again. I barely recognized myself. I couldn’t help it, and a huge grin encompassed my face. I remembered who sent the gifts, and I flushed.

I glanced at my bedside clock.
Crap.
I really had to hustle. I didn’t want to make us late. Traffic on the bridge to the city was notoriously bad on Saturday nights. He had said the symphony started at seven. I hurried into the bathroom and surveyed my hair. Luckily, with a dress like this, you didn’t need jewelry or a fancy hairstyle. I took my brush and brushed the hair back, off my face, and into a high, elegant bun. I leaned in and quickly rimmed my eyes with kohl and gave my lashes two extra coats of mascara. “Good, good,” I said approvingly to the reflection in the mirror. I grabbed some clear lip gloss and looked back towards the bags at the door. Maybe ...

Yep, he had. There was one bag left. I rooted around in the tissue paper, and it was there. This man thought of everything. I pulled a cream colored clutch out of the paper bag, and deposited my lip gloss, phone, and wallet into it. I took one more quick look in the mirror and bolted out the front door and into the waiting SUV, my dress sparkling in the moonlight.

6

Having someone drive you to the city makes the experience stress free. I reclined in the soft leather seat and relaxed as the lights glided by in the distance. Checking my phone, I found a text message from Carrie.

Have fun tonight. Be safe.

Don’t let the billionaire boss you around :-P

I texted her back

Don’t worry, I will

And I won’t

I smiled inside. I was so lucky to have such a good friend. We’d always looked out for each other, even when we were being stupid freshmen and getting into the kind of stupid trouble eighteen-year-olds get into when first greeted with total freedom. I remembered once when she pretended to be my overprotective lesbian girlfriend just to get a guy to stop hitting on me at a house party. She practically started a fight, just to make the charade convincing. I smiled and look out the window, amused at the memory.

“Temperature okay, Miss Sharp?” Thomas’s voice brought me back to the here and now.

“Oh, yes, Thomas, thank you. Perfect,” I replied, and I wondered if I should use this time to do a little reconnaissance work.

“Thomas, how long have you worked for David?” I asked brightly, easing into conversation.

“I’ve worked for Mr. Keith for about five years, Miss Sharp.” His language is matter-of-fact but kind.

“And what did you do before that?”

“I’ve been in private security for about ten years, and before that I was in the Marines.” Ah, his clip and tone made sense now. I had some cousins in the military. They all shared the same no-nonsense way of speaking. Thomas looked like he was about forty, maybe forty-five. I wondered if he had any family.

“I see. How do you like working for Dav, err, Mr. Keith?” I asked, referring to David the way Thomas preferred.

“I like it very much. Excuse me for a moment, Ms. Sharp.” We had exited the freeway and were just down the street from David’s building. Thomas pushed a button and a phone rang on speaker.

“Go ahead,”

“We are just pulling up, sir,” Thomas said to the voice.

“Very good, I’ll be right down.” It was David on the other line. His voice sounded different on the phone. Not bad, just different. More business-like. No-nonsense. My stomach wrenched with excitement, and my body grew lush with anticipation. God, did he realize the power he had over me? I felt like one look from him was worth more than all the men in the world. No wonder he had a reputation. I imagined he would be impossible for most women to resist.

We pulled up to the valet stand. A bellman opened the door for David as he exited the building. My heart stopped as I spied him through the window. He looked amazing. Clean-shaven, in a black tuxedo, one hand shoved nonchalantly into his pocket. Like he’d been wearing tuxedos all his life, like it wasn’t a big deal. And oh, that bow tie. What was it about bow ties? The feminine shape always just seemed to accentuate masculinity in the most glorious way. I was glad I was already seated, because surely I would have gone weak in the knees. The valet opened the door, and David climbed into the car, his tux barely restraining the strength of his legs and shoulders.

He turned his whole body toward me and looked me up and down.

“Wow. You look amazing,” he said, hungrily surveying me from head to toe. “Nice dress.”

“This old thing? Just something I found lying around,” I joked, trying to play off my nerves.

He leaned in, kissed me deeply on the lips, and whispered, “Just lying around, eh? Well, don’t get too attached to it. That dress is going to be lying on the floor next to my bed later tonight. I hope you weren’t counting on getting much sleep.”

I flushed, and smiled weakly as he reclined in his leather seat. “Thomas, Davies please.” Thomas pulled out, and we were off.

Davies Symphony Hall is located in downtown San Francisco, close to the ornate City Hall building. We pulled up to a crowd outside the imposing gray structure, and as we got out of the car, flashbulbs erupted. A couple of beefy men dressed in black helped usher us past the mob, as they shouted David’s name. They clearly knew him, or at least knew
of
him. He put his arm around me and escorted me up the stairs.

Inside, the mood was celebratory and light. The lobby was full of beautiful people. The women were all in floor length gowns and glittering jewelry. Thank God David knew what to dress me in. I would have shown up in entirely the wrong thing. I caught several approving glances as I walked with David. I also received a few ice cold stares, but I figured out those were more related to the person I was with, rather than my glittering dress.

Sorry ladies, he’s mine
, I thought to myself. I was suddenly very proud of my date—if only because of how handsome he was.
Shallow, Sharp, real shallow,
I cajoled myself quickly afterward.

People kept stopping David to say hello, which would lead to the mutual introductions of various dates, spouses, and girlfriends. David introduced me as none of those, but rather a clinical sounding, “Ms. Samantha Sharp,” all the while keeping his hand at the small of my back, possessively. I liked it.

An older gentleman came by and engaged David in conversation about some resource opportunity. After a few dull minutes I cut in and excused myself to the restroom. He raised an eyebrow at me, but nodded.

“Don’t go far,” he commanded quietly, so only I could hear. I winked. He raised the eyebrow further as I turned away.

I skipped the restroom and instead cut over to the bar. I got a glass of champagne and lingered, watching the crowd. It was a truly beautiful affair, but it was awkward not knowing anyone. I took my phone out of my clutch and checked to see if I had any texts. Nothing. I sighed. What I would have given for a clever jibe from Curtis or a quick reassurance from Carrie at that moment. I sighed and put the phone back inside.

“Enjoy him while you can,” a husky voice intoned behind me.

I turned toward the voice and saw a tall brunette next to me. She wasn’t just beautiful; she was exquisite. Model thin and with cheekbones that could cut ice. She was wearing a fitted black lace gown.

“I beg your pardon?” I asked, calling on one of my grandmother’s favorite expressions.

She looked at me and nodded her head across the room toward David.

“David Keith. Enjoy him while you can,” she repeated, and I couldn’t tell if she was trying to size me up or be my friend.

“What do you mean?” I asked lightly, trolling for more information.

“Just that. Enjoy him while you can, because he never sticks around for long. He can’t. It’s like, programmed into his being.”

I looked at her quizzically.

“Don’t take it personally; it’s just, like, a scientific fact. I’m Vanessa, by the way.” She put her hand out to shake mine. “Girlfriend number 176.”

“176?” I asked, and eyed her skeptically. But inside, I’m entirely thrown. I know Curtis said David dated a lot, but 176? I started to do mental calculations.

She caught me trying to process the math, and threw her head back and laughed. “Well no, not really, but you get my drift.”

Suddenly a deep voice cut in.

“Vanessa.” It was David. He joined us and quickly resumed his position cradling the small of my back. My body was greedy for the touch, and I leaned back into him. “Are you bothering Ms. Sharp?”

His nostrils flared a little. I could tell he was not pleased. The devil on my shoulder whispered:
Winning!

“Just ... introducing myself ... David.” Her words were slow and serpentine and suggested a familiarity that I was not comfortable with. I did not like her using his name. It was not hers. Not anymore, at least.

“Samantha, this is Vanessa. We dated once in college.” Was that a trace of a southern accent? I hadn’t heard
that
before.

“At Berkeley,” she offered, as if it was some claim to intimacy.

“Oh,” I said, understanding. College. That was a long time ago for David. I started to feel better, more confident. I smiled. Vanessa’s expression soured ever so slightly.

The house lights flashed, indicating the performance was about to commence.

“Good-bye, Vanessa,” he said curtly, and without waiting for a response he turned and ushered me away. I felt Vanessa’s stare punch into my back as we walked away, but I didn’t look back.

David led me down a narrow hallway, and we emerged in a private box situated on the side of the concert hall.

The concert hall was enormous. It was full of soft lighting and oddly shaped undulating walls, which I assumed did something for the acoustics. The orchestra was on stage, all dressed in black. It was truly elegant.

“This is beautiful,” I breathed, completely overwhelmed by the space.

David looked at me with a tender sweetness I hadn’t seen before. It occurred to me that this was the first time we were out together, on his terms. Jenna had dragged him to the gallery, and I had a funny feeling that he followed her to Curtis’s party just on the off-chance I would be there. It certainly wasn’t his scene, not if
this
was the kind of thing he was used to doing.

“I hope you like the program tonight. The conductor tonight is visiting from London, and he’s widely regarded as the top conductor in the world right now.”

We took our seats, and I glanced around our private little space. Dirty thoughts floated through my head, but I banished them when I realized we were effectively on show to the rest of the hall. The lights went down. He wrapped his arm possessively around my shoulder, and I realized our placement was no accident. He wanted to broadcast that I was his to everyone in the hall. I wondered how many other ex-girlfriends were in the audience? Would I be one of them soon? Gallivanting around with someone who had a reputation as a heartbreaker? Would I end up like Vanessa in another week—a sad grumpy shadow of myself, hell-bent on chiding new girlfriends who are overconfident in their ability to lasso this dark horse?

I glanced delicately up at David. He was lost to the music. I decided to put aside my worries for the evening as I sipped my champagne. Maybe I will regret this man, but I will not regret enjoying myself. I leaned into David, and drank up his scent of soap and aftershave. Yes, this was fine, for the moment.

At intermission, the audience erupted into applause. I had no basis for comparison, but judging by audience reaction, this was clearly an excellent performance. David turned to me as the crowd started to leave the concert hall.

“What do you think so far?”

“It’s awesome. I love it,” I said.

“Mmm,” he murmured approvingly. He turned his focus to my body, surveying it with those piercing eyes. He reached out and slid his hand into the slit of my dress. He caressed my thigh and leaned in to kiss me on my neck, inhaling deeply.

“Samantha, do you know how beautiful you are?” he said quietly. He reached up and pulled my face toward his and looked longingly at my mouth. “Do you know the effect you have on me?” His voice was quiet, but filled with fire and lust.

My whole body tingled back to life. My skin was charged, pricking—reacting to his bold masculinity. I arched my back a little, pushing my tender breasts forward, and my hips rocked gently back and forth, begging for his touch to move up, to the space between my thighs. If he wanted me here, now, in front of the entire hall I was fine with it. I didn’t care, I just needed him. I needed a sweet release from this cruel torment. But he kept his hand on my thigh, unwavering. He was clearly teasing me, torturing me.

“I need to have you, Samantha.”

It took all my might to tease him back. “You haven’t even bought me dinner yet.”

“Are you hungry?”

He wasn’t talking about food.

“Yes,” I whispered and moved my legs so that his hand could slip a little deeper into the space between my thighs. “Does this place have a pantry?” His eyes flashed, and the electricity pulsed between us. His mouth curled up into a slight smile.

“Come,” he barked and whisked me out of my seat. We rushed down the hall and out through the crowd. I followed him, my whole body revving with greedy, carnal need. David politely parted the sea of people, while he pulled me along, keeping me close, protecting me.