Just remembering it caused pleasure to the nth degree to shoot up his leg, hitting him straight in his groin. That kiss had been unexpected because she had initiated it…and he hadn’t seen it coming. But it had been a pleasant surprise. And really, it didn’t matter who’d made the first move. The deed had been done and he hadn’t been the same since.
But she was Stonewall’s sister.
If he’d been able to ignore that very important part, he could have solely concentrated on her delicious taste and the way her tongue had stroked his. Their kiss hadn’t lasted nearly as long as he’d have liked, but it’d sure had the intended effect. Ever since that night, thoughts of her sent him to bed with heat coursing through him. Twice, he’d woken up in need of a shower. No kiss had ever affected him that way before. If nothing else, it should be a firm cue for him to stay back, stay away and leave Amelia Courson the hell alone. But he couldn’t. Hell, he didn’t want to. That kiss had gotten into his system, and the intensity of it was making him crazy. He wanted more—a whole lot more. He figured it would take more than one night to expel Amelia Courson from his system once and for all.
He continued pacing. Then why was he hesitating in sending her flowers, the way he did any other woman he desired? After all, this was why he had a system—so he didn’t have to think about it too much. When there was a particular woman he wanted, he would simply send her an invitation to share his world for a week, in some exotic location. The invitation specifically spelled out the rules of the liaison so there would not be any misunderstanding.
If a woman accepted the invite, she knew what she was in for…as well as what she wasn’t. He pushed the thought out of his mind that since meeting Amelia two years ago, he hadn’t issued any invitations. As hard as it was for him to believe, he’d gone two years without having a woman share his world—or his bed.
Thinking of Amelia’s plan to take some solid time off from the hospital, he realized that if he was going to make a move, he needed to do it now, before she made other plans. Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, he proceeded to make the necessary call. A few minutes after providing all the necessary information with his personal assistant, Jefferson Perkins, the man then asked, “Will you be sending an invitation as usual, sir?”
Dak would normally send a pre-printed note card inviting the woman to join him. Usually, the invitation read…You are invited to share my world for a week in a non-committed affair. If you accept, please RSVP. The woman would then be given a specific date and automated-reply phone number to call. He knew some women considered his methods impersonal, but once he and his companion took off in his jet, he made it as personal as it could get. As far as he knew, he hadn’t left any of his partners disappointed. For that week, he treated his lady like a queen. And by the time the trip ended, she was happy and satisfied, and so was he.
Yet, he couldn’t see sending that kind of impersonal invitation to Amelia. He would write her a note himself. “No. Please send a courier to pick up a letter later today.”
After ending his call with Jefferson, he went to his desk, sat down and wrote out a personal invitation, signed it and then sealed the envelope. Then he summoned a member of his household staff to make sure it was given to the courier when he arrived. Once that was done, he sat down and let out a long breath. It was done. He had strayed away a little with the wording of this invitation, but the vital message points had been the same. He was asking Amelia to agree to a seven-day non-committed affair.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want the happy ending so many of his friends had. But he’d just seen too much, lived through too much, to risk it. His biological father had taught him that women should never become too important. A man could have fun with a woman but expecting anything more just led to disappointment. And he’d seen, by watching his dad, Michael Navarro, the kind of heartache that could happen when a man let a woman into his life. Michael had grieved the loss of his wife for years after she’d passed. Even though Dak and Tabitha had made his days more bearable, it was obvious to anyone who knew him that he wasn’t the man he’d been before.
Dak was determined to never experience that kind of pain. So he made it a point to never let a woman get too close. And he hadn’t. But Amelia was tempting him.
Dak knew what he had to do now and figured he might as well get it over with. His call was answered on the second ring.
“Hey Dak.”
He released a deep sigh the moment he heard Stonewall’s voice. Better to get it over with quickly. “I’m sending Amelia an invitation to share my world.”
As one of his closest friends, Stonewall knew what that meant. However, just in case he’d forgotten, Dak added, “You know how I operate. I see what I want, and I go after it.”
There was a long pause. Then Stonewall said, “Mellie is an adult who can make her own decisions about things.”
Dak was surprised Stonewall was taking it so well. “Glad you feel that way.”
“Mellie gives me no choice when it comes to her personal affairs. However, I will give you this warning, Dak.”
Dak leaned back in his chair and rubbed his bearded chin. He figured Stonewall would threaten to break Dak’s damn neck if he hurt his sister. “What’s the warning, Stonewall?”
“Mellie is not like the women you’re used to dealing with. You might want to think twice before inviting her anywhere. She won’t put up with your bullshit. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Duly noted, Stonewall.”
“Fine. We’ll talk when you get back.”
Then there was a click in Dak’s ear, and he could have sworn he’d heard Stonewall chuckle.
• • •
“Delivery for Amelia Courson.”
Mellie glanced at the woman standing on her porch. She was holding a huge beautiful arrangement of mixed cut flowers, with a card that evidently was to accompany them. “Thanks. Hold on a second and I’ll grab your tip.”
“No need. It’s been taken care of. Enjoy your flowers.” The woman hurried back to the private car. A private car and not a florist van?
She frowned as she stared at the flowers for a long minute before closing the door. She glanced around her living room, looking for the perfect spot, and then placed them on the sofa table where they would be seen every time she walked into the room. Taking a deep breath of the colorful blooms, she smiled. She’d smell them throughout the house, even if she couldn’t see them. They had such a lovely scent.
As she admired the flowers, she recalled something she’d overheard a few years back. Stonewall had been telling his best friends, Striker and Quasar, about Dak’s technique when it came to pursuing a woman. He would have an arrangement of flowers delivered to her with an official printed invitation, asking her to share his world in a non-committed fling. Usually, the affair lasted no more than a week, and the woman would accompany him—on his private jet, of course—to some exotic country where he would wine, dine and bed her. At the end of the week, he would return her home and she would never hear from him again, while he moved on to his next conquest. Mellie figured the only women who would take him up on such a thing were those adventurous types who weren’t looking for a lasting relationship any more than Dak was.