Silken Seduction Read online

  Silken Seduction

  Tara Nina

  Selling her jewelry designs is on the top of Temair O’Hara’s agenda. That is, until sexy Brit Evan Lyndsay stops by her booth at the trade show and sets off a series of fantasies that leave Temair breathless. Sure, she wants him to recognize her talent as an artist. A contract with his company would make all her professional dreams come true. But after a few heated exchanges, she begins to realize he may have designs on her for reasons other than her talent. And that would be just fine with her. If he weren’t so much younger.

  Evan has a thing for sexy feet and legs. A big thing. And one woman in particular has a set that sends his libido into overdrive. But she seems reluctant to see in herself all that he does. Perhaps some special attention to the area he loves will loosen her up and make her open to all he has to offer. Because now that he’s had her in his bed, he has no plans to let her go.

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing

  www.ellorascave.com

  Silken Seduction

  ISBN 9781419938238

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Silken Seduction Copyright © 2012 Tara Nina

  Edited by Grace Bradley

  Cover design by Syneca

  Photography: Syneca; Igor Borodin, Carlo Dapino/Shutterstock.com

  Model: Nick

  Electronic book Publication February 2012

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

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  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book.

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  Silken Seduction

  Tara Nina

  Dedication

  My heartfelt thanks go to Grace Bradley, who has the patience of an angel. Her guidance continues to make me a better author.

  This story is based on a particular muse who crossed my path several years ago. Without whom, my imagination would not have created Silken Seduction. Thank you. And thank you to all the muses who touch authors’ imaginations. A great muse equals a delectably delicious story.

  Chapter One

  It was just another trade show until he walked in.

  Tall and lean with stylish good looks, the man stood out in the crowd. Temair’s pulse increased, but it was his eyes that stole her breath. Deep, soulful, wisdom-filled eyes of a dazzling shade of sexy light blue. When he smiled, the dimples in his cheeks weakened her knees. He sported a clean-shaven head and face, with the exception of a dark soul patch beneath his lower lip, which made her wonder if he knew how to use it in all the right places.

  She glanced away, trying to halt the sudden flood of naughty thoughts traipsing through her head. Temair had difficulty focusing on the task of arranging her display. His presence in the room controlled the direction of her subtle glances, no matter how hard she tried to keep from looking his way.

  It had been a long time since anyone sparked her sexual interest, and she kind of liked the renewed sensation of pure, unadulterated lust at first sight. Damn, the man looked that good. She licked her lower lip in a nervous attempt to wet it, without removing the remnants of her lipstick.

  Unable to resist, Temair lifted her gaze and stalled in her movements.

  When their eyes locked for a split second across a sea of other business-attired women, moisture dampened her panties for the first time in months. Oh god, was he actually giving her a sly smile? Had he read her thoughts? Temair cast her gaze downward. Both hands trembled as she tried to complete the task of organizing her display.

  Don’t be silly, the annoying voice at the base of her brain whispered in the tone of her ex-boyfriend. With all the glamorous people in the room, he couldn’t possibly be seeing her as anything other than a trade-show professional.

  Shallow as it seemed to her, in this business, appearance could make or break you. Most of the women were young, thin and attractive, leaving Temair in a Rubenesque class all to herself. Forty-plus sucked. Not to mention she was without a man in her life. Getting rid of her last boyfriend had been the best decision for her sanity’s sake.

  Determined not to think of that situation now, she forced her focus on the agenda she’d planned in her head. Meet and greet as many potential clients, salespersons and business figures she could possibly reach within the limit of the three-day event.

  This was the biggest jewelry showcase of the season. The Accessories-Holiday and Resort Collection Show was being held at the Javits Center in New York City. Vendors attended from around the globe in hopes of landing the right contacts to place their latest line of designs in the biggest houses. And she was no exception. Her little shop in SoHo desperately needed the publicity boost landing a high-profile client or contract would bring.

  In a room full of industry professionals aching to be the next best thing in fashion jewelry, Evan Lyndsay was the bait in the goldfish bowl. The buzz around the trade show was that getting your stuff in his hands could increase your business tenfold. Lagging sales had her in dire need of his expertise.

  One sideways glimpse of him made her wonder if it was his business advice she needed to sample. If the increased beat of her heart were any indication, she doubted it. A split-second fantasy image of his long, lean male form, naked and ready, shot through her thoughts and sent a shiver straight to her core, reinforcing her indecision in the matter of professional interest versus sexual. Temair tightened her thighs as tiny tremors teased her inner muscles.

  Damn. She bit her lower lip. Had it been that long since she’d been laid? Come to think of it… She rolled her eyes upward. It had been over a year since she’d had a real cock nestled deep. The way her body reacted to a simple glimpse had her on edge. God, was she that pathetic?

  Focus. She shouted the inward command, wrapping a fragile net of control around her carnal thoughts. Evan Lyndsay was not the goal. Getting laid was not the objective either. Making a name for herself in the cutthroat world of the jewelry biz topped her agenda.

  Yet, she couldn’t stop her gaze from sliding in his direction.

  It didn’t surprise her that the man himself made the trek from the UK to attend this function. She’d seen him at a prior convention over a year ago, but never had the opportunity to meet him. His company was up-and-coming, pushing the envelope in the latest jewelry designs, and pulling in new talent was the best way to lunge ahead of the competition. If only she could be that talent.

  She watched as each step he took another fish clamored for his attention, which kept him in sight, but inaccessible. It wasn’t in her nat
ure to shove her way to the front or through a crowd. Temair chewed the inside of her lower lip.

  The bottom line of her business was in the red. Being nonaggressive got a person nowhere in this world. She huffed. Meek individuals were doormats and she was tired of going unnoticed. Her designs were worthy of the finest department stores. Determination to get them there set in as she straightened her spine. Her talents deserved a chance.

  What she lacked were the looks and self-confidence to make it happen.

  Don’t think like that, Temair silently chided herself. But the echoes of repeated discouragements from the man she’d wasted years with attempted to resurface. Temair turned on her heels, faced the wall, and squeezed her eyes shut tight against the unwanted onslaught of past memories. This was not the time or the place. In her book, thinking of that man was never good for her self-esteem.

  She lifted her shoulders, forced the thoughts from her mind and returned to the task of placing her jewels on display. A glimpse in the mirrored glass wall and her confidence was restored. The body in the reflection may not be model thin, but ample curves weren’t a bad thing. She smiled and straightened her skirt.

  Being without that man’s constant belittlement made her more at ease and comfortable with her womanly figure. He was wrong. She wasn’t undesirable. Temair ran her tongue along her lower lip, wetting the cherry-red color to perfection. Being without him was the best thing for the old self-esteem. She snorted as she placed the last of her display together.

  A knot formed in her gut as she mentally tried to convince herself she was the successful, desirable woman she wanted to portray at this convention. Damn. Temair sighed, closed her eyes and issued a silent prayer. The words of her best friend Lisanne reiterated in her brain. You can do this. Don’t let his negativity back into your life. You are strong, talented and beautiful.

  Coming from Lisanne, those words meant a lot. In her opinion, Lisanne was one of the most down-to-earth beautiful people she knew. Men’s heads turned when they were anywhere together and Temair knew they weren’t looking at her. It was the robust, sexy aura of the tall, slender brunette with red highlights, and the brightest brown eyes filled with life and a brilliant smile that had their attention. Lisanne was the total package. And she believed in Temair.

  Staring at a strand of blue beads, Temair couldn’t help but sense pride in her work. Her creativity sprang to life the moment she crawled out from under the dark cloud that had stifled her for way too long. That thought made her insides twitter. These were the best creations she’d ever done. She sighed as she locked the glass door on her tabletop display.

  Strength sizzled through her veins and she was glad she’d spent the money, time and effort she had in preparing for this convention. She put in weeks designing this line and choreographing the display, right down to the shape of her own body. She knew what she needed to do to make sure the top buyers stopped by her booth. Everything about her display had to stand out—including herself.

  Temair caught another glimpse of her reflection and realized just how large her chest appeared to be in this outfit. Thank god for support bras and the fact many men liked breasts. She smiled. Smoothing the front of her skirt, she wished she’d been able to trim more off her middle with the diet and exercise program she’d followed. But at least her legs looked great. She allowed herself that little accolade for all her hours of hard work in the gym.

  Though she wasn’t sure how she was going to pay it off, she was glad she’d stretched her credit card and splurged on a few new outfits. Today’s choice—a black leather skirt, a low-cut blouse of black-and-white stripes, which tied at the waist and accentuated her full bosom, and a pair of four-inch, high-heeled leather spikes. Since she normally wore flats, these took some getting used to in order to even walk, much less appear graceful.

  A strand of pearls stood out against the light tan she managed to get at the tanning salon the week before the show. She ran her fingers across the strand. Pearls added a hint of class in her opinion. At least that’s what she’d thought when she chose them over one of her own funky designs.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of him. Slow and deliberate, he seemed to be working his way toward her like a jungle cat on the prowl. The thought of Evan Lyndsay as a hunky predator and she his prey created an image of her pinned beneath him, naked and ready. Temair gave herself a quick shake, trying not to surrender control to the unusually hot thought.

  She blinked. Was it a slim hope a man of his stature would be interested in her work? Due to the rapid thump of her pulse and the sudden naughty thoughts flipping through her brain, Temair realized it definitely wasn’t his professional guidance that captivated her senses.

  With Lisanne running the shop, Temair was able to attend the convention without worry. She knew the shop was in good hands. There was no reason she shouldn’t remain focused on the goal of capturing the attention of a big house for her jewelry line. There was no rational reason she could think of that Evan Lyndsay’s house wasn’t a possibility for her product. No reason except for one. She lifted her gaze and her jaw tightened. An ominous presence snaking through the crowd threatened her success.

  Graceful, lean and with a body to rival that of any cover model, Deidre Delany stepped into his path. Should have known she’d be here. Temair rolled her eyes to the ceiling and issued a silent prayer. Just once, God, could you make her miss a trade show, trip and land on her face or something, just once?

  Deidre’s jet-black hair was loose, cascading to mid-back and her dark, tailored suit accentuated the fine lines of her shape. That woman just didn’t quit. She got what she wanted no matter what or who she stepped on. No wonder her designs were being displayed on a Times Square billboard.

  Temair refused to let that bother her now. Jealousy was not a normal reaction for Temair and it surprised her. But for some reason, watching Deidre in action with a man whose presence had her body humming made her back straighten and shoulders lift, jutting her breasts forward even more.

  What was she thinking? Temair shivered, trying to shake off the unwarranted sensation and turned her back to the pair in the center of the room. She had no right to feel jealous. Hell, she hadn’t even met him. And yet there was something about the man that tugged at a raw, untapped hunger inside her. A mystery she ached to explore, but didn’t know how or why she even felt that way.

  For ten years she’d been with the same man trapped in a blah, sexual routine. He was always on top. Missionary or nothing was his style. But now—she peeked at the man captured by Deidre’s persistence—Temair was wondering for the first time since her breakup, what it would be like to have sex with another man.

  Could she even be naked in front of someone else? Especially a younger man?

  Don’t go there, girlfriend. Concentrate on business. Think jewelry, designs, think stones. Oh great, that was a good one. She rolled her eyes upward as the image of a pair of scrumptious male balls flashed inside her head, making her mouth water in anticipation of tasting the salt from the velvet sac encasing them.

  Damn, girl, you need to get laid. No. She shook her head. What she needed was to focus on the goal and not some hot-looking, younger man. She fidgeted with the display until she absently knocked the stack of business cards from the corner of the table to the floor.

  Temair knelt, gathered the cards and as she stood, her blood heated. A presence hovered behind her and without turning, she knew who it was. The man exuded sexual prowess. Or was it just her being overly horny? Not sure which, she took a deep breath, held her shoulders up, chin tilted and turned as gracefully, and as sensually, as she could on four-inch, spiked leather heels.

  Time seemed to stop. The scope of her vision narrowed to just the man in front of her. Everyone else in the Javits Center faded into nothingness. It was as if they were surrounded in a bubble that held only the two of them, and no one else mattered.

  The sensation of being caressed coated her skin. She followed his slow pe
rusal from her red-painted toenails, up her calves to the leather-clad length of her thighs. She noted the subtle dilation of his pupils as he gazed up and down her legs once more, before lifting his gaze to the low plunge of her cleavage, then finally met her eyes.

  The blatantly seductive gaze should have offended her, but it didn’t. The look disappeared as quickly as he had gifted her with it. But the effect lingered. Her nipples were marble hard and her vaginal muscles tightened. Oh god, she hoped he didn’t know what he’d done to her with just a look.

  “Hello, I’m Evan Lyndsay.”

  The soft-spoken, erotic timbre of his English accent rolled over her, sending a wave of lust through her body. Even the sound of his voice controlled her senses without even trying. Temair swallowed hard, dampened her lower lip with her tongue and prayed she hadn’t just licked off the last of her lipstick.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lyndsay. I’m Temair O’Hara,” she managed to eke out of her dry throat as she accepted his extended hand in a formal shake. “Of O’Hara Designs.”

  “I know.”

  He knew? Evan Lyndsay had heard of her? If her hand wasn’t still in his, she probably would have stumbled. The warmth of his touch filtered into her system and emboldened her self-esteem. Leveling her gaze dead on his, she allowed a smile to grace her lips, as purely sexual thoughts of things she’d like to do to him exploded in her brain.

  “I’m impressed.” The words came out huskier than she intended in her sweet Southern drawl on a soft whisper. Unable to stop, her gaze slid down his body in a slow, hungry perusal, only to return in a matter of seconds to meet his hooded stare.

  “So am I,” he stated, giving her a tempting little smile, which added to her desire to tickle that hot soul patch beneath his lower lip.