Silken Seduction Read online

  Temair took a deep breath and forced herself to calm. It was best if she didn’t think of him anymore. She turned their talk to the shop and what the day’s total sales had been, to the weather, to anything other than the trade show, Deidre and Evan Lyndsay.

  * * * * *

  Breakfast lasted a bit longer than she had meant, thus making her have to hurry through the Javits Center to the location of the pre-day panel. This was set up on the third floor and started at eight, before the ten a.m. opening of the doors to the public. Several of the industry’s biggest buyers were scheduled to appear. The agenda stated they would discuss and take questions pertaining to what they were considering for their new lines.

  When she arrived, there was very little seating left with the exception of one or two vacancies down front. Temair was grateful the air-conditioning was working, otherwise she would have been a big sweat ball walking down the center aisle in front of all the others to take a seat. A quick glance around and she realized she was the only woman dressed in red. Was it a mistake to dress so bright in a world of dark-colored suits?

  Chin lifted, she caught the gaze of one of the panel members seated at the table on the dais in the front of the room. It shouldn’t have surprised her Evan had been added to the discussion forum. His company was sought after by a vast majority of the jewelry designers at this event.

  Focused on those eyes, she straightened and put on an air of confidence she definitely didn’t feel, and walked as gracefully as possible on her red, high-heeled mules to the chair at the end of the front row, against the wall.

  The soft whisper of the hose as she walked caught her attention over the buzz of the chatter in the room. To her, each step was deafening and she hoped no one else noticed. But someone else did.

  She caught the subtle movement as his eyes left hers and dropped to her feet to trail slowly back up to her face. His wicked smile and heated gaze lasted for a split second before he slid the mask of professionalism back into place.

  Had she seen what she thought she saw? Did he just caress her legs with his eyes? Curiosity-laced excitement coiled in her center and sent tingly sensations to pool in her pussy. Every ounce of her knew what she’d seen. That one look made her tighten her thighs against the shivers of her inner muscles as she sat, crossing her legs at the ankles.

  What kind of spell had he cast to make her body react in such a fashion with just a simple look? Was she misreading the suggestions in his eyes? She had been off the dating market for some time. Had the signs and signals changed? Weren’t these things done with a text message these days, and not through suggestive looks and touches? A quick glance at him and she hoped not.

  Each time she shifted position she noticed his subtle glances her way. Temair turned at an angle in the seat in order to face the panel at a better view, crossed her legs and watched his face. She saw him glance at her legs, swallow hard then look up at the ceiling, as if issuing a silent prayer, before deliberately focusing on the opposite end of the dais on the pretense of listening to another speaker.

  An uncontrollable smile tugged at her lips as the realization of an unfamiliar power surfaced. The man liked legs. And from what she saw when she entered, hers were one of the few visible pairs in the large conference room. Thank god she’d visited the gym on a regular basis prior to this convention. Her legs were in no means the best of shape, but they weren’t the worst either. At the moment, it didn’t hurt they were sheathed in a pair of soft, sheer hosiery.

  With each stolen glance he passed her way, Temair felt more empowered and her self-confidence rose. This was the longest hour of her life. Teasing him had not been intentional when she entered the room. But it increased the level of naughtiness running through her blood and urged her to exhibit just a little more leg with each shift in her seat.

  By the end of the panel discussion, she couldn’t repeat what was said for the life of her. And hopefully, no one would ask what she’d learned. It was no one else’s business. She’d discovered something that had her insides twisted with excitement. She knew a secret about Evan Lyndsay, or at least she hoped she did. If not, it had been fun on her part fantasizing that his gaze was caressing her legs.

  Temair took her time as she stood, straightened her skirt, picked up her lockbox and turned to leave. The procession from the room was slow, and due to her location at the front, she was one of the last in line to leave.

  A warm hand cupped her elbow and stopped her in her tracks with a few whispered words, in a low, husky, accented voice. “May I have a word with you?”

  Instant heat simmered through her and landed in her pelvis, making it difficult to walk and not wobble on those heels. Chills scurried across every molecule of her flesh, and it was all she could do to muster enough moisture in her mouth to reply as calmly as she could, “Of course.”

  She stepped to the side and let others pass. A few moments alone with him might take the edge off this frustrating, teenage-girl-like crush she decided she had for this man. Maybe talking to him, getting to know him would cool her libido down a degree or two.

  Temair eased toward the dais, set her lockbox on it, turned and leaned her bottom against the platform. Crossing her legs at the ankles, she grasped the edge for support as she faced the object of her most intimate dream. Her insides quaked. What did he have to say to her? What would she say to him?

  God, this was awkward. She nibbled the corner of her lower lip. The air seemed to leave the room as he settled next to her. He left a respectable gap between them. Close enough to inhale his scent and feel his heat, but not close enough to touch.

  “Ms. O’Hara.” His tongue darted across his lower lip. Temair swallowed hard. Did he know what he was doing to her? “Your talents intrigue me.”

  Not sure if she did it out of nervousness or just the desire to test her theory, she inched up onto the dais, got comfortable and crossed her legs, letting the red leather, high-heeled mule dangle from her foot. She heard the subtle hitch in his breath, and caught the not-too-subtle stare at her foot, as if the tiny bounce of her shoe was the most fascinating show in town.

  The smile that graced her lips couldn’t be stopped even if she wanted to. Raw power sizzled through her veins and for a moment, she was in control. As soft and sexy as she could make her voice sound, she asked, “My talents, Mr. Lyndsay?”

  “Among other things,” he added as he met her gaze.

  The predatory look he gave her sent lightning bolts straight to her pussy, but she refused to let him see the way he shook her up inside. Instead, she sat straight with her eyes leveled on his and accepted his unspoken challenge. If he wanted to play, then so could she. What harm would it do to tease a man—a younger man at that?

  “Other things?” she asked in the most provocative tone she could manage and still breathe, while looking into those mind-boggling eyes. Temair leaned forward, accentuating the full curve of her breasts and achieved a small victory. His gaze immediately dropped to her cleavage as she continued. “Are you interested in seeing my…” she paused for effect before stating on a husky breath, “designs?”

  His eyes seemed to darken with desire as they lifted to meet hers and she damn near melted on the spot. She was playing with fire and wasn’t sure if she could handle it. There wasn’t one quivering ounce of her that intended to let him know of her insecurities. She liked this game. Never had she been so turned-on without even being touched. His eyes extended a promise she hoped desperately he would keep.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement by the doorway at the far end of the conference room. Temair straightened at the same moment Evan slid back into business mode. His hooded gaze shifted to normal, but not before one last quick perusal of her legs from toe to the apex of her thighs. She swallowed hard when his cool stare captured hers with a secret heat that made her tremble inwardly, all the way to her painted toenails.

  Before Deidre got close enough to interrupt or overhear, Evan quietly asked for her number, which he jotte
d on the back of one of his cards and tucked into his inside jacket pocket.

  “Until later,” he stated with a nod as he stood and met Deidre midway.

  Deidre shot menacing glares her way as Evan escorted her out. Not one of which penetrated the phenomenal sensation that encapsulated Temair’s soul. Her spirits were set on high and not even Deidre would bring her down. A younger man showed an interest in her. Not just any younger man, but one of the hottest, sexiest men she had met in a long time.

  Damn, what was she going to do about it?

  Temair gathered her wits and forced her legs not to wobble when she stood. She’d given him her cell phone number. If he called—well, she’d worry about it then.

  If he called.

  Chapter Four

  Luck was on her side. One of the biggest jewelry brokerages visited her booth and requested a future meeting with her after the trade show was over. It may or may not lead to a contract, but this was the closest she’d ever come to getting her foot in the door. If just one of them commissioned her work, the notoriety would boost her sales and bring much-needed publicity for her shop.

  Temair studied her reflection in her competitor’s floor-length mirror. Red was a good color for her after all. Feeling pretty had her acting pretty, and it didn’t hurt her ego had gotten a little boost in the form of a few spoken words from a younger man. She made sure she spoke to every person who walked anywhere near her booth and drew them in for a closer look at her designs. This got her several requests for different pieces of her work.

  By mid-afternoon, she had a file stuffed with business cards, information from a couple of buyers from the west coast, and eight order forms complete with partial payments for three of her favorite pieces. For the first time in five hours, she sat. Her feet throbbed, but it was a good throb. She smiled as she secretly slipped off her shoes and rubbed her feet underneath the table at her booth.

  The ring of her cell phone interrupted her moment of rest. Sitting up, she answered, “Hello.”

  “If it wouldn’t cause a scandal, I’d help relieve your pain.” His London accent made the words sound even sexier as they filtered through the phone.

  Temair straightened. He was watching her. Instant moisture pooled between her thighs. This was exciting, knowing he watched her, knowing he liked what she was doing under the table to her feet, and knowing he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

  “There’s always later,” she replied as she hitched one foot up onto her other thigh and deliberately continued to massage its aching ball. She heard his heavy intake of air through the receiver and knew he still watched her actions. In a subtle movement, she glanced around, searching for that distinguished bald head.

  At the far end of the aisle, she sighted one. Disappointment flooded her because it wasn’t him. He wasn’t visible in either direction she looked. It added to the intensity of the game they were playing, and she liked it. Not knowing where he was, but knowing he watched, had her insides humming in anticipation of what might happen next.

  “You have me at a disadvantage.” His voice tickled her ear. “You seem to have discovered my weakness.”

  Temair’s smile broadened. She was right. He was a leg man.

  “It’s a weakness of which I don’t understand,” she teased.

  The thought of his hands caressing her feet made her clench her thighs against the sudden surge of need collecting in her core. No one had ever touched her feet other than the occasional treat of a pedicure. The image of someone massaging her feet just because they wanted to had her curious and hot at the same time. On a heavy breath, she added, “Care to teach me?”

  “It’d be my pleasure.” She practically heard his smile through the phone, even if she couldn’t see him. “Unfortunately, I have meetings until late. Would you be willing to meet me around ten?”

  Willing? What a silly question. Every ounce of tiredness was liberated from her. Ten was late but not by New York standards. Most were just getting started at that hour on a Saturday night. Yet she wasn’t most. A normal night for her was showered, in her pajamas, tucked in bed by eleven and asleep by eleven thirty. Tonight, she was going to live a little and take a chance on something different.

  “Where?” she managed to whisper.

  “The Milford Plaza, room 1020. See you then.”

  The click of the disconnection echoed in her ears. Oh god, what had she just agreed to?

  * * * * *

  The rest of her day was a whirlwind of activity, of which she was grateful. If she hadn’t been busy, she probably would have had too much time to think, and would have convinced herself not to keep the date. As it was, she almost chickened out and stayed home when she stopped in to deposit her lockbox, shower and change.

  Dressing to please, Temair chose a denim skirt, which landed at mid-thigh. For luck, she selected her favorite top, a soft halter blouse of yellow, blue, green and red that tied at her neck and didn’t cling to her middle. It was loose and flowed nicely when she moved. Careful not to rip or snag them, she slipped on a fresh pair of sheer hosiery. Not just any hosiery, but the only pair of real nylon pantyhose she owned. It was the most money she’d ever spent on hose. When the lady at the department store showed her the difference between these and the cheaper brand, she had to have them. These were not mixed with spandex or rayon. They were purely made of nylon.

  He was a leg man, so only the best that she could afford would do. The pure silk stockings the salesperson had shown her were well out of her price range. She sighed, running her hand down the soft material and hoped these would be good enough to please. She chose to wear the red leather mules with this outfit, even though her feet were tired of being in heels and begged for a pair of flats.

  To accent the outfit, she picked one of her most favorite pieces from her collection of titty danglers, as she called them. A silver chain fitted to lay across her collarbone, with a longer chain attached in the center, which dangled a teardrop-shaped ruby to land at the peak of her cleavage. The perfect titty dangler if she said so herself. Wonder if he’d take notice with him being a leg man.

  With one last glance at the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door, she gathered her strength to pursue this adventure. And this was exactly that for her, an adventure into a new aspect of sexual pleasure. Would it thrill her to have him touch her feet? If the level of anticipation roaring through her was any indication, she sure hoped so.

  Twenty minutes later, she stood at the elevators in the lobby of the Milford Plaza. Indecision riddled her soul as she closed her eyes and dug deep for the guts to continue this charade of false bravado. Should she or shouldn’t she? Was she woman enough to meet a man she barely knew alone in his hotel room? Not just any man, but a younger man. She’d never dated a younger man. Insecurity set in. What if this wasn’t a date? What if he’d only asked her here to discuss business and she’d imagined the sexual tension between them? Oh god, this was a mistake.

  Just as she opened her eyes and started to step back, a dark-sleeved arm reached around her and a masculine finger pressed the button. “Allow me.”

  Temair tilted her chin and met Evan’s penetrating gaze across her shoulder. As rapid as it’d started, self-doubt dropped from her thoughts to invisibly puddle on the floor around her. Though his eyes looked tired, she still saw the promise of pleasure within them. How could she have thought of backing out?

  “Thank you,” she managed to state while maintaining a cool façade. On the inside, she knew she was out of her element. On the outside, she hoped he couldn’t tell.

  When the elevator doors opened, he said, “After you.”

  His hand at the small of her back guided her in. One glance around the lobby before the doors closed and she knew there were few people milling about, and even less who cared who she’d gotten into the elevator with.

  “You look stunning tonight,” Evan said as he pressed the number ten.

  Before she could stop, her honesty took over. “And you
look positively exhausted. Are you sure you’re up to hosting a visitor tonight? We could reschedule.”

  The most seductive smile she’d ever seen parted his lips as he tucked his hands into his front pockets. Even tired he looked irresistible. Common sense told her to leave and let the man rest, but she couldn’t. There wasn’t one ounce of her strong enough to walk away from the invitation in his gaze. It weakened her resolve and at the same time increased the curiosity level burning through her veins.

  She had to know why she felt this strange erotic connection to Evan Lyndsay. What it was all about. Never had a man intrigued her sexual interest without so much as a touch. This man did. What was it about him that had her body in a constant state of arousal? She stayed that way whenever he was near, whenever he spoke to her, and even when all she did was think about him. How did he do this to her with just a simple glance?

  If just the thought was good, what would his touch be like? Shivers shot down her spine and she had to stand straight to control them. Don’t think of that, she reminded herself as she held his gaze.

  “I’ve looked forward to this all evening. Seeing you has given me a second wind. I’m glad you came.”

  As the doors opened, he returned his hand to the small of her back and guided her out. His thumb brushed the bare skin just above the low-cut back of her blouse, and Temair nearly stumbled.

  The sound of the key card as he unlocked his door seemed to echo down the empty corridor. Temair stared straight ahead into the dark uncertainty as he opened the door and led her inside. Never had such a sensation of pure naughtiness controlled her as it did now.

  She was in his room…alone.

  “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

  A flick of the switch and the room was lit by several lamps. One sat on the bedside table, and another across the room on the desk. The room housed the latest in luxury accommodations. An overstuffed chair sat across from the foot of the king-sized bed, a nightstand on either side, a dresser, a table desk complete with phone and internet access, and an upright wall unit, which contained a large television. The bathroom was to the left inside the doorway and was beautifully designed from what she could see.