TheTemptationNotJustifiedAReFinal

BOOK: TheTemptationNotJustifiedAReFinal
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The
Temptation of a Good Man

by
Delaney Diamond

 

Copyright
© September 2011, Delaney Diamond

Cover
art by MTheresa Arts © September 2011

 

Diamond
Press

Atlanta,
Georgia

 

This book is a work
of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the
author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No part of
this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means,
including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and e-mail, without prior
written permission from Diamond Press.

Dedication

 

To my fabulous critique partners:
Alyssa, Carmen, and Sharon.

You ladies are the best!

 

Chapter
One

 

 “You’re
young. It’s okay to have fun every once in a while.”

Those
were the words Celeste Burton’s mother had spoken about thirty minutes ago as
she pushed her through the front door of their two-bedroom apartment.

Celeste
knew that on a cerebral level, but it didn’t lessen the guilt, even if she did
have reason to celebrate. Tonight she turned thirty, and her mother had stuffed
some cash from her secret stash into her palm and pushed her through the door
with a “Now get out of here and have some fun for a change!”

Celeste
scanned the crowded space of Avery’s Juke Joint. Weekend nights always brought
out an eclectic crowd of professionals. Customers dined at the bistro tables,
hovered around the bar talking, and a number of them had created their own
dance floor in front of the stage where a live band played popular funk and
blues hits.

Despite
its name, the establishment bore little resemblance to the ramshackle
structures African-Americans used to visit to relax and socialize after a hard
week of work. The renovated building had once been a retail store. It boasted
high ceilings, flat-screen televisions, and framed contemporary paintings in a
kaleidoscope of colors and geometric shapes. The large paneled windows faced
Peachtree Street, one of Atlanta’s busiest roadways. Gyrating bodies moved in
time to the music, and all around her people laughed, sipped on colorful
drinks, and looked like they were having a good time. Her eyes searched the
room for the familiar faces of her friends, Janet and Gwen.

Someone
jostled her from behind. “Excuse me,” a contrite male said.

Instantly
attracted to the whiskey-warm tone, Celeste turned her head to see if the face
matched the sexy voice. A pair of espresso-colored eyes captured hers, sending
a jolt of awareness through her body. A neatly trimmed beard, sideburns, and a
mustache shadowed his face.

“No
problem,” Celeste mumbled.

His
warm gaze raked her from head to toe, lingering for a couple of heartbeats on
her bare shoulders. The muscles in her belly clenched in reaction, and her
heart skipped a beat at his bold perusal.

Surprised
by her intense, immediate attraction to a complete stranger, she took a deep
breath as another bump captured her attention and forced her to face forward.
When she righted herself and looked back over her shoulder toward the
sexy-voiced man, all she could see was his retreating back. She stifled a
confusing sense of disappointment.

Craning
her neck, Celeste finally spotted her girlfriends and two men standing at a
table across the room, near one of the windows. Janet waved wildly, and Celeste
grinned, waving back. She began to wind her way through the crowded dining
area.

As
she neared where her friends sat on stools around one of the bistro tables, she
couldn’t help but notice they’d hit the jackpot tonight. Both men were
good-looking and well dressed.

Janet
gave her a big hug. “Happy birthday, Celeste!”

She
was always in a good mood and seldom without a smile. Celeste bent down to her
petite friend for a hug.

“Happy
birthday,” Gwen repeated, only she didn’t offer a hug. She remained seated and
with one gulp drained the martini glass filled with green liquid.

“Looks
like the party started without me,” Celeste remarked, raising an eyebrow. Gwen
was the party animal of the trio. By the looks of it, she hadn’t waited for
Celeste to start having a good time.

The
dark-skinned man chuckled and stuck out his hand. “I’m Lucas. Lucas Baylor.
This is my buddy, Xander Dixon.”

Xander
was shorter than Lucas, with lighter skin. He was lean and wiry in contrast to
Lucas’s thicker, more muscular build. Celeste took notice of Xander’s wedding
ring when she shook both men’s hands.

“I
hope you don’t mind,” Xander said, “but your friends were nice enough to invite
us to share the table with them. Happy birthday, by the way.”

“You
don’t mind, do you, Celeste?” Janet asked, still grinning from ear to ear.

“No,
not at all.”

That
wasn’t entirely true. Normally she wouldn’t mind, but it was her birthday, and
she had hoped to spend it with her girlfriends. Instead, they’d invited two men
to join them, and she felt like the third wheel at her own celebration.

“Oh!”
Xander exclaimed, looking past Celeste. “Look who finally showed up. Dr. Roarke
Hawthorne!”

“Tenured
professor at UGA!” Lucas added.

“Booyah!”
both men said in unison.

Celeste
turned her head to see what all the excitement was about and looked right into
the dark brown eyes of the least professorial-looking man she’d ever seen. The
man with The Voice. For six years she’d taken classes part-time, working toward
a bachelor’s degree. If he’d been one of her professors, she would have never
gotten any work done in class.

He
nodded as he stepped past her, and the sleeve of his purple long-sleeved shirt
brushed her forearm, raising the hairs and making her skin tingle. She tried
not to stare, but it was hard not to because of his smooth skin and the
heart-stopping smile stretched across his full lips.

“Sorry
I’m late,” he said. “I hope my no-good friends have been treating you ladies
well?” His words indicated he was speaking to all three of them, but his gaze
remained on her. “And I sort of met you a second ago, didn’t I?”

The
nervous fluttering in her stomach made it almost impossible for her to get out
the simple words, “Yes, we bumped into each other.”

“We
were about to order another round of drinks,” Lucas said, gesturing for the
waitress to come over.

Introductions
were made, drinks ordered, and then Xander clapped his friend on the back.
“Well, how does it feel?” he asked.

Roarke
seemed to lapse into deep thought and stared down at the small round table they
were all crowded around like sardines in a can. “It feels . . . amazing. I can
finally relax. There’s nothing like job security.”

“What
do you teach?” Gwen asked.

When
his attention shifted to address her friend, Celeste studied him. She figured
him to be a couple of inches over six feet. Attractive, with skin the color of
a chocolate Hershey kiss, a man like Roarke didn’t go unnoticed, not even in a
crowd. A charcoal gray vest stretched over his broad torso and a multicolored
tie with a predominant shade of purple.

“I
teach physics at the University of Georgia in Athens. This week I received my
tenure confirmation, so I drove all the way from Athens to come celebrate with
my buddies.”

“It’s
not that far. It’s barely an hour,” Lucas said. “And you should frame the
letter.”

“Don’t
be modest,” Xander chimed, patting his buddy on the back. “
Dr.
Hawthorne
is an astrophysicist. He wrote a popular article for the
Journal of Applied
Physics
about . . . What was it again?”

“The
statistical anomaly—”

“Yeah,
yeah, whatever. Don’t show off. You know that science mumbo jumbo is over our
heads.”

“You
asked!” Roarke laughed. “Don’t be modest; don’t show off. I can’t win with
these guys.” He gestured with his thumb and returned his eyes to Celeste. She
felt as if he spoke only to her. An invisible cord pulled her deeper under his
spell.

“You’re
the black Stephen Hawking. I smell Nobel Peace Prize,” Lucas said.

“Whoa,
let’s not get carried away.” Roarke held up his hands to his friend in protest.
They were large, masculine hands with long, slender fingers, which could
undoubtedly offer all sorts of pleasure.

Celeste
swallowed, shocked at the thought that zipped through her mind. Why was she
thinking about the pleasure this man’s hands could offer?

“There
he goes being modest again,” Lucas said. “Your research was groundbreaking. We
should take out a full-page ad in the paper so everyone knows what you
accomplished.”

“One
day we’ll say we knew him when.” Xander sniffed and wiped a nonexistent tear.
“Don’t forget the little people.”

“What
are you even doing here?” Roarke asked him. “Your wife let you out to play
tonight?” His attention turned to Lucas. “How many times has she called him?”

Lucas
held up two fingers. Just then, Xander lifted his phone from his pocket. He
smiled sheepishly. “I gotta take this.”

Lucas
held up three fingers. Roarke groaned, and they both rolled their eyes as
Xander slinked off to a corner with the phone pressed to his ear.

“Come
on, Lucas, let’s dance,” Gwen announced in a loud voice. She moved her
shoulders in time to the music. Celeste wondered how many drinks she’d had
already.

“I’d
be happy to do the honors.” Lucas helped Gwen down from the stool. “You, too,”
he said to Janet, whose head bopped in time to the beat.

She
stopped her movements. “Oh, I can’t. I’m engaged.” Holding her hand upright,
she showed him the ring. Every time an opportunity arose to mention her
engagement, she took it.

“What
does your engagement have to do with anything? I just want to dance, and it’s
obvious you do, too.”

“Well
. . .” Janet seemed uncertain, frowning at Celeste.

Celeste
waved her away in an effort to ease her conscience. “I’ll be fine. Go dance.”

“Are
you sure you can handle those ladies by yourself?” Roarke called as the three
walked away. Without turning around, Lucas shot him the finger and squeezed his
way through the crowd with both women.

With
her friends gone, Celeste racked her brain for something witty and interesting
to say. She glanced at Roarke and found him watching her. His gaze didn’t waver,
and she shifted uneasily from one foot to the next.

“Your
wife must be proud.”

She
smothered a groan of embarrassment. Did the comment sound as bad as she
imagined? She didn’t want to seem like she was coming on to him. He stood with
his forearm on the high table and his left hand tucked into his pants pocket,
making it impossible to see if he wore a ring or not.

Not
that it mattered.
I didn’t come here to pick up a man.
Considering her
history with men and the drama in her life, she had no interest in finding a
man right now.

“I’m
not married.”

A
tingle of satisfaction replaced the embarrassment and piqued her curiosity.
Good-looking and educated but no wife?

“How
about you?” he asked.

“No,
I’m not married.”

Divorced,
but that was another story.

“In
a relationship?”

His
lips stretched into an innocuous smile. She suspected her answer to the
question would determine how the rest of the evening went. The safe answer
would be to say yes. She could tell him she was involved, and then he’d
probably leave her alone, which was what she really wanted. But, she didn’t
want to lie, and all of a sudden, she didn’t want to be safe.

BOOK: TheTemptationNotJustifiedAReFinal
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