Tempted by Pleasure (Secret Invitation #1) (3 page)

Chapter 4

Foster

The next morning, dressed in my favorite power suit, I park outside Erin’s bookstore and review her profile for the hundredth time. With my professional connections, I have access to private records. I scan the last page. She’s 5’5, 120 pounds, athletic, and in good health. Kevin will consider her the perfect specimen. We’ll find out after he examines her in his downtown office this afternoon.

I secure the file in my brief case, then grab the bouquet of green orchids off my backseat. Mary greets me from the counter.

“Mr. Wagner?”

“Good morning Mary. Is Erin here?”

“She’s in the back.”

“Can I find my own way?”

She eyeballs the flowers and smiles. “Don’t tell her I said yes.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

I end up at a closed door and knock.

“Come in.”

I peek inside. Her face is buried in a book and she doesn’t look up. “Need help, Mary?”

“I’ll let you decide.”

At the sound of my voice, her head snaps up. “Foster Wagner.”

I step into her office. “That’s all you have to say to me after all these years?”

“It’s more than you deserve.”

I laugh, knowing Erin is all pretense; I can tell from the way she sits and her tight expression. “Still can’t forgive me for being young?”

“You mean desperate?”

“Testosterone.”

“Don’t blame your hormones for crude behavior.” Her gaze sweeps downward, pausing on my crotch.

“Memory lane?”

She blushes, then glares at me. “Don’t be rude.”

“What’s on your mind, beautiful?” I lay the flowers on her desk. “Peace offering?”

“Light green orchids.” She looks confused. “How did you know? There’s at least fifty stems here. I can’t accept such an extravagant gift.”

“A peace offering.”

“Foster.”

I love the way she says my name. Those lips should be wrapped around my cock, not chastising me for past sins.

“Why are you here?”

“To reconnect.”

“We didn’t part on good terms.”

“I’m fully aware.” The painful memory has never faded, but I’ll do anything to make it up to her. I’ve waited years for this moment. “Let’s have lunch.”

“I-I . . .”

“It’s not a lifelong commitment, Erin, it’s lunch.”

She sets her book aside. “I know.”

“Is that a yes?”

She shakes her head. “What about yesterday?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

“I wanted to see if you’d figure it out.”

“But you told Mary you didn’t like Edgar Allan Poe. Return the books, Foster, they’re too valuable to end up with someone who doesn’t appreciate them. I don’t like games.”

“No?” I ask, knowing differently. “Who said anything about a game?”

She stands, rubbing her hands together. “So I’m supposed to believe you waltz in here to simply
reconnect
after you spent nearly five thousand dollars on me over the course of two days?”

“Five thousand?” I play stupid.

“Those flowers cost a fortune.”

“I didn’t ask for a receipt.”

“My goodness.” She edges closer, a mixture of emotions on her pretty face. “Is it possible the obnoxious jock has grown a heart? Learned to be a gentleman?” She’s so close I can smell her delicate perfume over the fragrant flowers. “Did your mother put you up to this?”

“My mother?” I laugh. “She’s on an extended holiday in Italy.”

“Your father? Our parents still play golf together.”

“I haven’t spoken to the old man in weeks.”

“I suppose you were never the kind of son who took orders very well.” She perches on the edge of her desk, her legs spread wide enough so I can see the shape of her pussy lips through her snug jeans. “Congratulations on your successful business endeavors. How was Saudi Arabia?”

That catches me off guard. I’m starting to think she recognized me in the book store, but didn’t want to admit it. “You’ve kept up with my career?”

“My mother keeps me up-to-date and I occasionally watch the local news.”

A perfectly reasonable explanation, but it still surprises me. “My sixth trip in four years. We’re about to close a deal on wind turbines. Green energy is the future.”

“I agree, but how can you specialize in environmentally friendly technologies
and
pump the earth dry of petroleum and natural gas at the same time. This fracking bullshit is a nightmare. Earthquakes near Dallas?”

I brush a stray hair out of her eyes. “Geopolitics mostly. But don’t get too preachy, baby. If I want to debate environmental issues, I’ll call the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality. Right now, all I want is to spend time with you.”

She presses her lips together. “Just searching for moral and intellectual clarity.”

“Something I’m sure you’d swear I’ve never had.”

“There’s always hope.”

I chuckle. She’s still my angel, the moral compass I always needed to help keep me on the straight and narrow. Only she’s gone from pretty to beautiful.

“If I agree to meet you for lunch, will you stop harassing me?”

“Can’t make any promises.” I’d do anything for her, but I can’t let her know that too soon.

She folds her hands on her lap, staring up at me. “I don’t know whether I should be flattered or run. You always were cocky, Foster.”

And you were always a patronizing little tease I couldn’t get enough of.
With all the references and stares at my man parts, I know what she’s thinking about.

I reach around her and pick up the phone. “Mary?”

“Mr. Wagner?”

“Do you keep vases in the break room?”

“Yes.”

“Please bring a large one filled with cool water to Ms. Covington’s office.” I replace the headset, letting my arm brush against Erin’s thigh. “Easy fix. If you don’t get those expensive flowers into water, they’ll wilt.”

“This is a waste of time.”

She slides off the desk, but I block her path. “If you didn’t want me here, you would have ordered me out of your office.”

“Maybe,” she admits. “Or perhaps I’m just getting my daily dose of entertainment.” She gazes up at me, her forehead creased in stubbornness.

I’m lost in her eyes, wishing I could bypass all the formalities and just fuck her now.

“Lunch tomorrow, one o’clock. And I’ll meet you at the restaurant.”

I rub my chin. “No. A car will pick you up out front.”

“Merciless.” Her sarcastic laughter jolts me.

“Mercy has nothing to do with it, baby.” I walk to the door, then turn back to drink her in one more time. “No jeans.”

“You’ll never change.” She flings a pen at me.

Erin

A few minutes later, Mary wanders into my office with a crystal vase. “The flowers are beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like them.” I’m still shocked and frustrated I let Foster manipulate me. “Take them away.”

“Where?”

“Put them up front. I’m sure the customers will enjoy them.”

“Did Mr. Wagner upset you?”

I look up from my paperwork, finding it difficult to mask my emotions. “In too many ways to count. But we’re having lunch tomorrow.”

She arranges the orchids a few stems at a time. “He’s very handsome.”

“And arrogant . . .”

“Rich.”

“A total player.”

She studies me. “He’s the guy I’d choose for a one-night stand to remember for the rest of my life.”

Believe me, the thought has crossed my mind a hundred times already. Coincidence means little in my regimented world. Fate, however, that carries weight. I’m not unlike Mary. Whenever no one is watching, I inhale a romance or two. Turns out I want what every woman desires, freedom to express myself without feeling guilty, especially sexually. If I mentioned the words vagina or penis at home, my mother practically fainted. My father imparted what I needed to know about making babies when I reached middle school, but nothing more. If Mom had her way, I’d still believe boys could impregnate me with a kiss.

“Are you all right?”

I wave my hand. “Right as rain.”

The front door chimes.

Mary adjusts her glasses. “I’ll get it.” She picks up the vase and hurries out of my office.

I concentrate on a list of customer-requested titles I need to order. My store has stayed in the black since I opened. Of course I’ve expanded after hours monthly activities, working with a local winery and café, and hosting mixers twice a month, a poetry club once a week, and a book club. A political alliance used to meet here every Thursday, but I got tired of the constant arguing and helped them relocate.

I close the store at six and drive home in a daze. Foster Wagner is the guy I daydream about whenever I’m lonely. And for whatever reason, he’s back.

Chapter 5

Erin

Mary appears at my office door. “Excuse me, there’s a gentleman up front.”

“Not Mr. Wagner again?”

“No,” she says. “But he’s incredibly well-bred.”

I take a deep breath and follow her, surprised to find yet another suit-clad, demi-god waiting.

“Ms. Covington?” He offers me his business card.

I read it. Dr. Kevin Mallory, MD. “How can I help you?”

“Is there a place we can chat privately?”

I gesture across the room. “We won’t be disturbed over there. Can I get you a cup of coffee or tea?”

“Water?”

“Sure, be right back.” I grab a couple bottles from the mini-fridge in the break room, then join him on the couch.

“Have we met before?” I ask, unsure why he’s here. Staring at his meticulously manicured fingernails and Forzieri dress shoes, I know he isn’t the type of man to frequent my store.

“I’m here in response to your acceptance of
our
invitation,” he whispers, unscrewing the bottle cap.

I sink deeper into the plush leather, my cheeks burning. “How did you know where to find me?” Is he stalking me? I never imagined a psycho in Armani.

“Ms. Covington, I’m not sure you understand how things work. Invitations for our club are sent to superior candidates. We handpick everyone based on a strict formula. Potential members receive a battery of medical tests, a rigorous psychological exam, and must have excellent personal references and a clean criminal record.” He spreads his legs, resting his palms on his knees. “I’m the first line of defense for eliminating any risks.”

So Katie wasn’t joking. She submitted my name, and someone actually
chose
me. I’m intrigued and terrified. “Who selected me?”

“That’s classified information, Ms. Covington. Rest assured we have a board of directors like any other business entity. Our decisions aren’t made lightly.”

“I believe you.”

“Good.” He takes a sip of water. “Do you understand what the Lazarus Club is?”

“Similar to the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen?”

His restrained façade shows signs of cracking, and he actually chuckles. “Not an entirely misplaced comparison.”

I lean closer so there’s no chance of Mary overhearing. “A sex club.”

“Never a sex club, Ms. Covington.” He sets the bottle on the floor. “We’re a
social
club that offers special accommodations for men and women of certain tastes.”

“Certain tastes,” I repeat, liking what it suggests. “And what made you think of me? Do I strike you as a woman of
certain tastes
?”

His stare lingers for several seconds. “You’re extremely desirable, Ms. Covington. That’s the first gauge for judgment. We can discuss this in my office this afternoon if you’re available.” He’s all business.

“So soon?”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Is there any reason for delay? Are you menstruating or pregnant?”

Did he really just ask me that? I wring my hands, too embarrassed to answer.

“I’ll take your silence as a no.”

I nod.

“My office address is on the back of the business card I gave you. I’ll see you at two o’clock, but if you need to reschedule, please let my receptionist know as soon as possible.” He stands, smoothing his jacket. “I take physician-patient privilege very seriously. Your medical history will be kept confidential.”

“Thank you for being so poignant, Dr. Mallory.”

Chapter 6

Foster

I exit the conference room behind my sales team, pausing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Corpus Christi Bay when my cell rings. It’s the call I’ve been waiting for. “Kevin . . .”

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, I just wrapped up for the day.”

My friend coughs deliberately. I know him too well. He has something important to tell me. “Let me caution you before proceeding with this charade with Ms. Covington.”

His words surprise me. “Are you advising me as a medical professional or as my friend?”

“Both.”

“Is she sick?”

“No. She’s everything I’d want in a woman.”

He’s never made such intimate observations about any of the women I’ve asked him to examine. Jealousy washes over me. “Explain.”

“I’m not sure how to. To tell you the truth, Foster, I’m completely bewildered.”

“By what? She’s perfect.”

“Oh she’s anatomically correct, psychologically stable, demonstrates financial prudence, has a wonderful sense of humor, although a bit sarcastic at times, and comes from a great family.”

“So what’s the problem?” I start pacing, wishing he’d get to the fucking point. “I’m well acquainted with her family, remember? Pedigree isn’t the concern. I need to know she has no current attachments, nothing that will complicate my efforts and waste my time.”

“I’d say she’s
never
had any deep attachments to anyone.”

“Quit talking in goddamned riddles.”

“All right.” He sighs. “Her hymen is intact.”

“What?”

“Ms. Covington is a virgin.”

Without thinking, I disconnect and tuck my cell into my shirt pocket. A virgin? She’s nearly twenty-four years old and no one has fucked her yet? Warning bells go off in my head. How is it even possible? She’s hiding something. Maybe she had hymenoplasty, because nothing else makes sense. My phone vibrates.
Goddamnit.

“Didn’t see that one coming?” Kevin asks.

“Unless you were giving a pelvic exam to a teenager, when is the last time you saw a virgin?”

“Never.”

“My point exactly. They’re practically extinct.”

“No thanks to men like us,” he jokes.

“I don’t like it.”

“Exactly why I suggested you reconsider your motives.”

“I need to go.”

“Call me later,” he says.

Finished talking, I collect my briefcase and jacket from my office and take the elevator to the underground parking garage. I disarm the alarm on my black Jaguar coupe and slide onto the leather seat. My phone rings again, but I ignore it. Once again, Erin Covington has surprised me, the same way she did that night so many years ago. I wanted her then, and want her even more now. Some things stay with a man forever. I rev the engine and pull out of the garage, ready to burn off some of this new frustration with raw horsepower.

I punch the gas pedal, screeching down Ocean Drive, weaving around cars, not giving a shit if a cop pulls me over. Staring toward the waterfront, I admire the horizon, where dark clouds promise some much-needed rain. Even the palm trees look wilted, thirsty for life-giving water. That’s how I see Erin, as my deliverance from desolation.

Erin

I meet Katie at the Lotus Dreams Teahouse for Irish night. I attend as often as possible, enjoying the traditional Celtic music and cultural readings that accompany the fragrant teas we sample. No matter how much I try, I just can’t seem to get into anything tonight. My mind is still reeling from the medical screening I subjected myself to. I gaze at the framed pictures on the shop walls—scenes from authentic Irish villages, the occasional thatched-roof cottage, and stone fences. I smile, proud to be half Irish. We’re drinking a new breakfast tea and I sip slowly, savoring the robust flavor.

Katie tries to speak over the flute solo, but I can’t hear, and motion for her to scoot closer.

“Don’t leave me hanging,” she says. “I understand the doctor showed up at the bookstore. This is no joke, Erin.”

“Did I ever suggest it was?”

“No.”

“You’re committed?” She rests a hand on my arm. “You can have whoever you want.”

“Maybe,” I admit. “But this idea appeals to me more. No strings, no worries, no chance of my mother finding out. Thank you for providing this opportunity.”

“I didn’t do anything really, just made a friendly suggestion to a friend of a friend.”

“I disagree.”

She rewards me with a soft smile. “Own it, Erin. And once you’ve discovered how special it is to take control of every aspect of your life, maybe you’ll realize Thomas isn’t worthy, and that you deserve so much more.”

“Don’t be so quick to judge. Your best friend might be a sexual deviant.”

She giggles. “Thinking about Foster while you masturbate again?”

I nearly choke on my tea. She’s too honest, but that’s why I love her. “I’m thinking more along the lines of BDSM.”

“You want someone to tie you up and shove something up your ass?
I
can do that.”

“Oh. My. God. No. I want to surrender to someone who gets me so hot I can’t think straight.”

“You want to be a submissive?”

“Not exactly. I don’t know how to explain. I’m plagued by dark fantasies, the kind that earn good girls a spot in Hell.”

My confession doesn’t seem to faze her. She places her elbow on the table, resting her chin on her palm. “You’re normal. Maybe a little crazy for waiting this long to listen to your libido, but trust me, itching for dick is a good sign.”

“The Lazarus Club is what I want. It’s perfect.”

She sips her drink. “I’ll support whatever choices you make, but only if you keep me updated on everything. Start with the exam today. What did Dr. Feelgood do?”

“A routine physical, chest X-ray, bloodwork, urine test, and pelvic exam. I nearly forgot the psychology test.”

Her mouth drops open. “That’s crazy, might as well be getting screened for the Marine Corp.”

“I’m pretty sure the workouts are Special-Forces-approved.”

She giggles. “What did he say?”

“He seemed surprised I was a virgin.”

“No shit.”

“He asked me if I knew what I was getting into.”

“Do you?”

Why does she keep questioning me if she was the one who initiated everything? “Don’t backtrack. I want this so bad I can taste it.”

She stares at me. “I’m finally speechless.”

“Still my BFF?”

“Only if you promise to get me an invitation to that party.”