Packed With Pleasure. Lori Wilde
The foxy, heart-faced woman framed by a crimson banner. The effect was mesmerizingly magical. And even after the banner twisted and spiraled away into the wind, Alec couldn’t take his eyes off her.
His heart literally skipped a beat and the unexpected arrhythmia startled him. Usually, the only time his pulse skittered was when he bungee-jumped or hang-glided or skydived.
The sun slipped out from behind a cloud where it had been hiding and glinted off her mass of chestnut curls swept back so fetchingly in a loose ponytail. She wore a long-sleeved turquoise peasant blouse. Not exactly high fashion, but it was definitely romantic. His fingers itched to stroke both the tactile material and what lay intriguingly beyond.
He knew the correct terminology for her garment because he had four sisters who had spent their lives telling him about clothes. He owed them a debt of gratitude. The knowledge came in handy with his active dating life. Women were impressed when a heterosexual male could converse intelligently about fashion.
Their gazes met. And locked.
She possessed the most arrestingly blue eyes he’d ever seen.
Alec swallowed. Hard.
She glanced away quickly but then a moment later she was back, eyeing him with slow, deliberate intent until he felt as if he were a job applicant on an interview.
He couldn’t get into the shop quickly enough.
Wind chimes murmured a musical note as he pushed through the door. The rousing scent of cinnamon candles filled the small room and everywhere he looked he saw something seductive.
Peacock feathers and skimpy panties and black leather masks. Whips and chains and swatches of sensual fabrics. Erotic videos and vibrators and chocolate body paint.
“May I help you?”
He jerked his head around and came face-to-face with his dream woman. Her name tag read Eden. Ah, a woman who crafted erotic gifts named Eden. How apropos.
She smiled, her small but full mouth lifting dazzlingly at the corners. He was aware of a high, humming sexual energy flowing between them.
Her impact was not the strike of a classic beauty but rather like the welcoming influence of a warm, rich hug. An invisible hug that wrapped around him like an aura—distinct and unmistakably her.
She possessed a certain luster that whispered to something deep inside him. Something primal and patently masculine. Something sweetly taboo.
His heart skipped another beat. Amazed at his aberrant reaction, Alec had to clear his throat before he could speak.
“I need…” Damn, how could he think with her studying him like that?
“Yes?” she gently urged, and raised a quizzical eyebrow.
I need. I need. I need.
What did he need? Frowning, Alec ripped his gaze from her lips and met those long-lashed, sky-blue eyes again.
“Um…”
Brilliant, Ramsey, absolutely brilliant. When was the last time a woman had left him tongue-tied? He searched his memory and couldn’t think of a single occurrence.
“Did you want to order a gift?” She lifted a hand to push a tendril of hair from her face, the bracelets at her elegant wrist jangled quietly.
“Yes. Yes. That’s it.”
“And what is the occasion?”
“My business partner, who also happens to be my best friend, is getting married the first Saturday in November.”
“You’ll be wanting a honeymoon basket.”
“Yeah.” He nodded.
That’s right, dazzle her with your sparkling conversational skills, you suave devil you.
Irritated with himself, he racked his brain for something else to say. “My sister Sarah Armstrong got married in April and someone gave her one of your baskets as a gift. She said it made the honeymoon.”
“Yes. The Ramsey-Armstrong wedding. I believe her basket was called Palm Tree Passion. Were you wanting to order something similar for your friend?”
“Wow,” Alec said, impressed. “That’s some kind of memory.”
“It’s a Montgomery family trait,” she replied. “Although it often comes in handy when running a business, vividly remembering everything that happened to you can sometimes be a minus.”
A brief wistfulness moved across her face and Alec experienced a rush of empathy. There were quite a few things in his life he was glad remained fuzzy. Like his father’s fatal heart attack, and the time he busted up his leg during a motorcycle race.
Mentally he shook his head, still unable to believe he’d not only survived but had in fact thrived. He’d come so far. From the scrappy kid who got involved in one daredevil stunt after another as a way of dealing with his father’s death to the well-respected editor in chief of a very successful men’s magazine. He had gone from borderline poverty to being rich beyond his wildest dreams, and he owed his success to his uncle Mac and the ability to face his fears head-on and defy them.
“My baskets are each original creations,” Eden said, breaking into his memory. “Tailor-made for the recipient. Can you tell me a little more about your friend?”
“Randy?” Alec grinned. “He’s a hotdogger and a half. A balls-to-the-wall no-fear sort of guy.” His grin disappeared. “But he’s been different ever since he met Jill.”
“Different?”
“You know. He’s love-struck. Has this dopey smile on his face all the time. Doesn’t want to do the things he used to do.”
“His priorities have shifted.”
“Yeah,” he said nostalgically, already missing their bachelor high jinks. He was happy for Randy, but he knew things would never be the same between them again.
“And what’s his fiancée like?”
Alec was incredibly aware of exactly how close they were standing. Eden was near enough to touch. He could feel the very air vibrating between them.
“Jill’s nice. Quiet. Not the type I pictured him with.”
“And what type is that?”
“Well, Randy is so bold I guess I always imagined him with someone a bit more…” He hesitated.
How to put this so it didn’t sound as if he didn’t like Jill. He did like her. She was very sweet. Demure, a little shy and very brainy. It’s just that he couldn’t figure out why this particular woman? How had Randy known that, above all the other women in the world, Jill was the one? His buddy had dated women who were certainly more beautiful, more adventuresome, more sophisticated. Why her? Why now? How was she different from the rest?
“Yes?” Eden prompted.
“Flashy. I pictured him with a colorful, flamboyant woman.”
“From what you tell me, Randy seems pretty flamboyant all on his own.”
“He is.”
“So maybe opposites attract?”
Their gazes met and that same arc of electricity that had called to him on the street surged again with startling clarity. Opposites attract, eh? What about this sudden chemistry between them? They were anything but opposites. A woman who spent her days concocting erotic fantasies had to be just as sexually adventurous as he.
“Maybe. They’re doing this second virginity thing. Personally, I don’t get it, but Randy claims they’re not having sex until after the wedding to prove their love for each other.” He shrugged.
“Randy’s newfound celibacy and choice of mates isn’t what’s really bothering you, is it? It’s the simple fact he’s getting