Pleasure for Two. Pamela Yaye
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operate under one basic rule. Sometimes to make money you have to spend money, and you’ll have to go all out for a woman like Dominique King. Spoil her, charm her, buy her expensive gifts. She’s worth it, Marcel. Trust that I know what I’m talking about.”
Nigel’s cell phone rang, and when he answered it, Marcel sighed. Now he could have some peace and quiet. Summer vacation was over, and it was back to the daily grind, but it wasn’t term papers or exams that filled his thoughts. It was a certain woman with dark, hypnotic eyes.
The deadening routine of his academic life threatened to do him in, but seeing Dominique rejuvenated him. And he wasn’t just attracted to her physical beauty. She had a good head on her shoulders, a witty sense of humor and a sultry voice. It was so thick and so provocative that he could hear it now, falling over him like a sweet morning mist.
“Marcel?”
He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around. Standing there, looking like a runway model, was the woman who’d dominated his thoughts for the past week and a half. Wondering how long she’d been calling his name, he smiled broadly and rose to his feet. “We have to stop running into each other like this. The next thing I know you’ll be hiding in the bushes outside of my house!” she joked.
Don’t tempt me, he thought with a wry laugh. “Does Destination Wellness know that you’re moonlighting as a bank teller?”
“You mean a bank supervisor,” she corrected. “I only work at Destination Wellness on the weekends. It’s just a part-time job, you know, something fun to do that gives me a little extra pocket money.”
“I understand. This recession’s kicking everyone’s butt.”
“Tell me about it. Several of my clients lost their homes last week, and we’ve been forced to cut back hours around here. The economy has taken a lot of hits in recent years, and everyone, from the executive director to the small business owner, has been affected.” The compassion he saw in her eyes was real. “I hope things get better soon so we can start spending again. It’s hard not being able to shop at Nordstrom!”
Marcel chuckled. Hearing someone behind him, he turned. Before he could introduce his uncle to Dominique, Nigel clasped her hand and greeted her like a long-lost relative.
“It’s great to finally meet you, Dominique. My nephew’s told me so much about you.”
Eyebrows raised in surprise, she divided her gaze between both men. “Oh, really? I’m curious to know what he had to say.”
Marcel’s tongue felt soft and limp in his mouth. What was his uncle Nigel doing? Trying to make him look desperate? His uncle’s charm was subtle, and he could tell by the expression on Dominique’s face that she was amused.
“He said you were a strong, intelligent woman with a good head on her shoulders.” Nigel smiled widely. “I suggested he take you to the Chef’s Quarter for lunch, but—”
“Uncle Nigel, I’m sure Dominique already has plans,” Marcel interjected.
“No plans,” she confessed. “I’ve been cooped up in my office all morning, and if I don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to lose it!”
The men laughed.
“Then it’s settled,” Nigel said.
“Would you care to join us?” Dominique asked.
“You two go ahead. I have an eleven-thirty appointment, and it’s too late to reschedule.” Straightening his tie, he said, “Do you play tennis by any chance? We’re looking for another player for our mixed doubles game.”
“It’s my favorite sport,” Dominique said with a proud smile. “I’ve been playing since college.”
“That’s great. We’ll set something up in the near future.”
Dominique opened her purse, pulled out her sunglasses and slipped them on.
“All right, you two kids have fun!” Nigel shot his nephew a grin. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Falling in step with the curvaceous bank supervisor, Marcel took a good, long look at her. Dominique really knew what worked for her, and though he wasn’t up on the latest trends, he knew what looked good on women, and she was working the hell out of her designer suit. Enthralled, he tried hard not to stare. She was feminine but projected a powerful, confident air. That was more of a turn-on than her sultry perfume. Something took over his brain when Dominique smiled at him, and as she sashayed past him through the open door, a chill zigzagged down his spine. Lunch was definitely going to be interesting.
Chapter 4
“Are you comfortable?” Marcel watched Dominique shift around on the floor cushion and wondered if he should have taken her somewhere else. The Seoul Kitchen had tacky oriental paintings on the walls, but the entrées were succulent and generous in size. “I can ask our server for another cushion if you’d like.”
“I’ll live.” Wearing a tight smile, she inched closer to the small, wooden table. “It’s too bad the Chef’s Quarter had such a long wait. I was really looking forward to having some lobster.”
“You’ll love the food here,” he promised, opening his menu. “I eat here several times a month, and I have never been disappointed.”
“What do you recommend?”
Marcel was admiring the delicate slope of her collarbone when her words reached his ears. “That depends on what you’re in the mood for. The barbecued short ribs are one of my favorites, but the fried prawns with vegetables are delicious, too.” He knew that she was open and curious, willing to learn and try new things, but he didn’t know how adventurous she was when it came to food. “I just hope you’re not one of those women who eat nothing but salad.”
Dominique smirked. “Does it look like I skip meals?”
Seizing the opportunity to check her out, he leaned sideways, allowing his gaze to creep up and down her chest and hips. Dominique King was a fox, and seeing her womanly curves made his head spin. If he was in the market for a girlfriend, she would be at the top of his list.
“I’m not disciplined enough to follow a strict diet. I like French bread way too much!”
Marcel raised his glass. “Then may this be the first of many lunch dates,” he proposed. “Here’s to good food, great conversation and plenty of wine.”
They clinked glasses.
“Welcome to the Seoul Kitchen. What can I get for you today?”
While the waiter took their orders, Marcel checked out his stunning lunch companion. Dominique’s brown hair enhanced the golden undertones of her skin, and tiny freckles dotted her cheeks. In this day and age, meeting a woman with model-like looks and intelligence was next to impossible, and he felt his attraction to her growing. He loved her presence, her aura and how effortlessly she held his attention. No easy feat, considering how many things he had on the go.
“How long have you lived in Seattle?”
“Five years,” he said, drawing his eyes away from the curve of her mouth. “I got my undergraduate degree at Seattle University and liked the program so much that I decided to stay to complete my doctorate. I was born and raised in Mauritius though, and my family still lives there.”
“I’ve heard of the country before, but I’m embarrassed to say I don’t know where it is.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. Few people do.”
Sucked in by his smile, she inched forward, bent on committing the impending geography lesson to memory. Dominique knew a lot of great-looking men, but she’d never met someone like Marcel Benoit. The intelligent, soft-spoken graduate student was in a class all by himself.
“Mauritius is a tiny island on the African coast, about six hundred miles east of