Tell Me Something Good (30 page)

Her pulse raced at the sensitive and caring
tone in his voice. “I’m fine, really.” Then raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t try to wiggle out of cooking me dinner, mister!”

“No way.” Noel kissed her cheek and hopped
from the car.

They went into his apartment, once again at
ease with each other. Noel turned the radio to a jazz station and
went into the kitchen. Lyrissa sat at the counter facing it while
he worked. Good conversation and a great wine helped the time pass
quickly. They sat down to dinner forty-five minutes later.

“Be honest, how does it taste?” Noel eyed her
as she ate.

“Delicious. You get a gold star, Scout St.
Denis.” Lyrissa nodded. “This sauce is superb.”

“I took a few cooking classes. Helps to be a
well- rounded kinda guy, ya know.” Noel looked genuinely
pleased.

“Well, you told the truth. This is good.”
Lyrissa wound more pasta around her fork.

“I wouldn’t lead you astray, baby,” Noel
said.

“So I can trust you, huh?” Lyrissa shot
back.

Noel wore a serious expression. “Yes. I guess
we should both learn to trust.”

He put down his fork and brushed a finger
along her jaw. Lyrissa watched as he leaned closer. He kissed her
gently at first. Then he wrapped her in a strong embrace. His kiss
became searching, urgent. It was as though he needed reassurance.
Lyrissa sighed and gave in to him eagerly.

Noel tasted the inside of her mouth, his
tongue caressing each soft spot. Lyrissa rubbed his chest with both
hands as she pressed her mouth against his, wanting more of his
sweetness. Without a thought about complications or difference,
they rose as one. Noel lifted her until their hips touched. They
held each other close for a few seconds before Noel led her to his
bedroom. She hardly noticed the soft blue, green, and earth brown
décor. Drapes reached down to the dark green carpet. He yanked the
matching comforter from the bed and lay her down on soft
sheets.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered.

He continued to murmur endearments as he
slowly undressed her. Each took turns pausing to kiss the other’s
exposed flesh as their clothes came off. He cupped her breasts in
his powerful hands, yet his touch was tender and loving. He
massaged the nipples until Lyrissa moaned with pleasure. His tongue
teased each one as he alternated between licking and nibbling them.
She shivered at the delight of having pleasure delayed. Noel proved
to be a master at foreplay. His hands roamed every inch of her body
until she was mindless with need. Lyrissa moaned his name over and
over.

“Now, baby?” he whispered.

Lyrissa nodded, unable to speak. She gazed
into his eyes as she tightened her fingers around his erection.
Noel

closed his eyes while she massaged him. His
groans became louder. He paused to put on a condom. When he
finished, he stretched his long frame on top of her.

“I wanted you the first day we met,” he
confessed.

“Noel,” she whispered.

They rocked together. Lyrissa sighed when he
entered her. They moved in tandem with a steady pounding rhythm.
Slowly they pushed each other to the brink only to pull back.
Lyrissa clung to him, crying out at the joy of feeling him inside
her. From far away she heard a female voice begging for more and a
gruff male voice promising to give it. They rocked each other hard,
lost in the frantic need to satisfy a raging hunger.

Lyrissa came first. She dug her fingernails
into his back and cried out. Her contractions sent him into an
orgasm. Noel thrust hard until Lyrissa came again.

“Please, please,” Lyrissa whispered and
wrapped her legs around him.

Noel sighed deeply and pressed his face
against her neck. “Thank you, baby,” he said in a shaky voice.

Lyrissa kissed the top of his head. “Why are
you thanking me?”

“For giving me hope,” he said simply.

“I don’t understand.”

“I grew up watching unhappy couples hurt each
other,” Noel said.

“Sounds pretty awful.” Lyrissa stroked his
dark thick curls.

“I assumed I’d have to settle for lukewarm at
best when it came to a relationship.” Noel kissed her skin. “Now I
know for the first time that I don’t have to.”

“Noel, about the real world... I know what
your family expects. But have you really examined what you want?”
Lyrissa hated to say the words, but she couldn’t run from the
truth.

“I’m that no-nonsense business geek,
remember?” Noel lifted his head to stare into her eyes. “No
romantic fantasies. I know what I want.”

“It can’t be this easy, just say what you
want and your family will knuckle under.” Lyrissa pictured the
formidable family matriarch. “Your grandmother will make a
hurricane seem tame when she finds out.”

Noel shook his head like a stubborn little
boy unwilling to give up his favorite toy. “Forget them. It’s all
about us right now.”

She didn’t want to push the issue. He looked
so happy, as happy as she felt at that moment. Against her best
hardheaded, no-nonsense judgment, Lyrissa merely sighed and held
him close. They drifted into a dream state holding onto each
other.

Two hours later he drove her home. They sat
in the driveway holding hands and not talking. Noel kissed her
tenderly.

“Good night, baby. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
He traced a long finger around her mouth.

“Yes,” she said and kissed it.

Lyrissa entered the house and headed upstairs
to her bedroom. She hummed the rap tune that had played as they
drove out of town. She was jarred out of her blissful state when
Mama Grace appeared in the hallway.

“Good news! That reporter called. She asked
questions about the St. Denis family scandals, just like you said
she would.” Mama Grace beamed. “I told her you’d call her
tomorrow.”

Aunt Claire came from the living room. She
glanced at her sister, then studied Lyrissa’s expression shrewdly.
“She could break the story soon after the art show at Chaisson
House. Just the way you planned, right?”

The real world crashed back around her with a
vengeance. Lyrissa felt the weight of it on her chest. “Right, just
like I planned.”

Four critics drifted around the room. They
took turns standing in various poses as they studied each work of
art. All of them scribbled notes on small pads. Lyrissa looked at
the elegant crowd of A-list people. A generous helping of society
folks filled the historic Chaisson House. Waiters circulated with
platters of appetizers. The caterer had a bar set up in the
foyer.

Ebony walked up to Lyrissa. She balanced a
small plate of smoked oysters on one hand and held a goblet of
champagne in the other. “I’m dizzy from the smell of old money,”
she mumbled.

Lyrissa stifled a laugh. “Stop that!” she
whispered back.

Vic swept toward them in a swirl of peacock
blue silk. The caftan over matching silk pants suited her figure
very well. “Brilliant, darlin’. You’ve done us proud,” she gushed
as she fluttered her fingers at friends.

“Thank you, Vic. I’m glad you’re pleased.
This is my friend Ebony Armstrong. Ebony, this is Vic Vivant,
Noel’s cousin,” Lyrissa said.

“Nice to meet you.” Ebony gawked at the
expensive outfit. “I love that ensemble.”

“Thank you, dear. Little something I picked
up when I went to St. Kitts. It was made by a native designer.
She’s all the rage. She has a boutique in New York and one in
Houston. I'll give you the address.” Vic’s rapid-fire chatter ended
when she sipped wine. She spotted someone else she knew. “Oh,
hello, Jessamine!”

“Uh, thanks.” Ebony leaned close to Lyrissa.
“I’d have to sell my car to afford it,” she whispered.

“Stop!” Lyrissa hissed. Then smiled when
Vic’s attention turned back to them.

“As I was saying, lovely reception,” Vic
said.

“I didn’t do it alone,” Lyrissa replied.

“Nonsense, Noel has been singing your praises
to us all.” Vic pointed to him by waving a ring-bedecked hand
toward where he stood.

Noel must have sensed he was the topic of
conversation. He glanced at them and flashed a dazzling smile at
Lyrissa. Her heart raced. Magnificent in black tie, Noel had
females of all ages hovering around him. His charm was in full
force as he entertained a group of society matrons. Lyrissa ground
her teeth. Younger versions circled like greedy felines waiting to
devour the catch of the day.

“He’s a tasty dish,” Vic commented archly.
She took another delicate sip of wine. “Those aging debutantes
would crawl through broken glass to get to him.”

Lyrissa wanted to look away but couldn’t. “He
doesn’t seem to notice.”

“He hardly ever does, especially now.” Vic
wore a sly smile and winked at Lyrissa.

“I wouldn’t know.” Lyrissa struggled not to
grin with glee.

“Noel has told everyone here what a genius
you are and how you worked together so closely for weeks.”

“Miss Georgina helped out quite a bit, also.”
Lyrissa assumed a neutral expression.

“Hmmm,” was Vic’s only reply. She continued
to smile at Lyrissa.

Ebony cleared her throat. “I’ve enjoyed
learning about the history of each piece. Especially those you own,
Ms. Vivant.”

“Vic, please! No formality between us tea
girls. Which one of my lovelies do you like best?”

“The sculpture over here.” Ebony led her away
with a backward glance at Lyrissa.

Lyrissa mouthed “thank you” as they left. She
couldn’t help but smile at the endearingly eccentric woman. Her
heart rate picked up speed again when Noel walked toward her. Julie
stepped into his path. They spoke briefly, an exchange apparently
not to Julie’s satisfaction. Noel went around her and walked toward
Lyrissa again. Julie wore a mask of controlled hostility.

“Everyone is impressed. Congratulations.”
Noel smiled and lifted his wine glass to her.

“Thanks. Not everyone is happy.” Lyrissa
gazed at Julie, who stared back at her.

Noel only glanced briefly at Julie. “Never
mind. This is your night.”

“Mr. Taylor helped a lot. He has years of
experience with this sort of high-profile event.” She nodded to her
boss. Mr. Taylor mingled with the guests, laughing and having a
wonderful time.

“Yes, but you worked with the decorators,
arranged the art and set up all the media coverage. Take the
applause, baby. You’ve earned it.” Noel stood close to her with one
hand under her arm.

“Uh, thanks.” Lyrissa worked to tame a jolt
of desire at his nearness. She put a few inches between them. “Nice
turnout.”

“Relax. I’m not going to make a pass at you
here. I’ll wait until we’re alone.” His baritone voice rumbled
provocatively.

“People are already talking.” Lyrissa smiled
and nodded to an art reviewer for a suburban weekly newspaper.

“Like who?” he asked mildly.

“Vic, for one. She says you’re telling people
great things about me. Cut it out,” she muttered, but kept
smiling.

Noel’s resonant laugh turned heads. Lyrissa
was just as captivated as the other salivating females who watched
him hungrily.

“I’ll try to be less enthusiastic, but it
won’t be easy. You’re so wonderful.” Noel gazed at her as though
there was no else in the room but her.

Mrs. St. Denis joined them with Julie right
behind her. “Noel, Mr. Helaire wants a word with you,” she
said.

“Sure, Grandmother. I’ll be back,” he said to
Lyrissa and walked away.

“Well,” Mrs. St. Denis said with a stiff
smile. “You’ve done an excellent job, Ms. Rideau.”

“Thank you, Mrs. St. Denis.” Lyrissa glanced
around for an opening to escape.

Julie stared at her with barely concealed
ire. “Interesting, how you chose to show certain pieces.”

“I wanted a mix of different periods and
media to showcase the best of the collection.” Lyrissa repeated the
well-worn answer she’d given all night.

“I see.” Julie looked around the room. Her
gaze stopped at the “Sunday Stroll on the Faubourg Tremé£.” “That
painting, for instance. It’s a real show stopper.”

“Yes, it’s quite attractive,” Lyrissa replied
calmly. “Magnificent is the word,” Mrs. St. Denis replied. She put
on her eyeglasses to see it better as she walked toward it.

Lyrissa had no choice but to follow them.
“Actually, the entire collection is outstanding. The pottery and
sculpture have really impressed everyone.”

Julie studied the painting for a few seconds,
then turned to Lyrissa. “What do we know about the artist?” “Not
much, except that he wasn’t particularly prolific,” Lyrissa
responded smoothly.

“Strange,” Julie remarked, not looking at
Lyrissa. “I would think such a talented nineteenth century artist
would be well known to an expert.”

“Some artists are harder to research than
others.” Lyrissa clenched her back teeth.

Mrs. St. Denis peered closer at it. “Such
lovely lines. Was he from this area?”

“I believe he came here from one of the river
parishes,” Lyrissa said. That much was quite true.

Julie looked at Lyrissa. “Then his
descendants should be able to help.”

“That is one way we gather information,”
Lyrissa said. “I love the vibrant colors.” Miss Georgina turned
from the painting and looked around the room. “But as you

said, the entire collection is a treasure.
Julie, there’s the mayor and his new wife. I must thank him for
helping us out last month with the charity drive.” She left them
alone.

“So you were saying about this artist?” Julie
asked.

Ebony walked up at that moment. “Lyrissa,
this show is marvelous” She turned to Julie. “Oh, hello. I’m Ebony
Armstrong.” She stuck out her hand.

“Julie Duval.” Julie gave it a quick shake
and let go.

“Lyrissa, the head of our firm would love to
meet you. Would you excuse us?” Ebony whisked Lyrissa away be-fore
Julie could answer.