Dark Attraction: The Corde Noire Series Read online

  Shaking off the encounter, Sam headed for her fridge, desperate for alcohol. A beer, maybe two, was what she needed to forget about the seductive Mr. Morgan.

  By the time the weekend arrived, Sam had put aside all thoughts of her new neighbor.

  “No more, Captain Morgan,” she kept reciting while riding up in the elevator, back from her outing to buy supplies for the Saturday night poker game.

  Stepping from the elevator, Sam was balancing grocery bags in her hand, while digging her keys from her purse, when she ran into something solid.

  “Sam, good to see you again.” Doug stood smiling outside of the elevator, clutching one of her brown paper grocery bags. “You’ve been shopping?”

  “Ah ….” She was at a total loss for words. “I’m having some friends over tonight. We have a monthly poker night, or more of a monthly get together to drink and talk about man problems.” Why was she babbling?

  When he lowered the bag from his chest, she saw his blue, button-down shirt and casual black slacks. She wondered where he was off to, looking so good. She breathed in a deep whiff of his cologne. She wanted to bathe in that shit.

  He cocked a black eyebrow at her. “I can’t see a woman like you having ‘man problems.’”

  She clutched her groceries to her chest. “A woman like me?” Does he think I’m a lesbian or something?

  He took the other bags from her arms. “In my experience, beautiful women don’t have problems with men. Men have problems with them.”

  “Beautiful?” She almost spat out the word. She suddenly realized he was holding all of her grocery bags and hurried to her door.

  “You must have had a man tell you how beautiful you are?” he inquired, coming up behind her.

  She put the key in her lock. “Ah, sure.”

  He came alongside her. “Father’s don’t count.”

  She shoved her door open. “My father never told me I was beautiful. He would have considered that a sin.”

  “A sin? Why is that?”

  “He’s a Methodist minister.”

  He nodded in understanding. “So, how many lovers have called you beautiful?”

  Are you kidding me? The blush that burned her cheeks must have made her look like an idiot. She hurried in her door, ignoring his question. Turning back, she was about to take the grocery bags from him when he pushed past her.

  “Tell me where you want these.”

  She watched his back as he moved along her short entrance hall. Her eyes dropped to the curve of his pants over his ass. Damn, he was even better looking from behind.

  “Where are the lights?” he called out.

  Snapping out of it, she ran ahead to her living room and flipped the switch on the wall. The recessed lights in the ceiling came to life. She motioned to her kitchen across the hardwood floor. “Just put them on my counter.”

  As he walked to the kitchen, the floorboards creaked beneath his weight. She stayed behind him, taking a few extra seconds to admire his tight butt.

  “Your apartment looks just like mine,” he said, putting the bags down.

  “Yeah, Mr. Cole had them designed the same.”

  He turned to her. “So Nathan told me.”

  “Were you and Nathan Cole good friends?”

  “Were? Are you like everyone else in town … you believe he’s dead, too?”

  Sam checked her grin. “I’m sorry, but I suspect it, yes. How do you know Nathan?”

  He dipped his head to the side while wiping his hands together. “Nathan and I belonged to the same club.”

  “Like a health club?”

  “No. It’s just a club for businessmen with similar … interests.” He pulled a bottle of vodka from one of the bags on the counter. “So is this going to be a wild party?”

  “Hardly. It’s just three of us, and we won’t be loud. I promise.”

  Setting the bottle down, he glanced at the bags. “I wasn’t concerned about that. I was concerned about the amount of alcohol you’ve purchased. You’ve got wine, beer, and vodka here. For three women?”

  Was he calling her a lush? “Don’t you drink a lot when you get together with your friends?”

  “I’m not one for parties. Unless they’re for business.”

  “What kind of business are you in?”

  He hesitated, his lips curling into a sly smile. “Transportation.”

  “Like cars or something?”

  “Among other things.” He veered his gaze to the bags on the counter. “So who are these friends coming over tonight?”

  “Just a friend from the building, Brenda, and another friend from work. Piper.”

  His eyes came together thoughtfully. “Piper?”

  “She’s a respiratory therapist in the ICU where I work and Brenda’s half-sister.”

  He took a step back from the counter. “Well, I shouldn’t keep you any longer.”

  Doug was heading to the door as she quickly followed him. She was trying to catch up to his long stride when she tripped over the edge of her coffee table.

  Toppling to the floor, Sam landed on her butt. Before she could register what was going on, he was at her side, lifting her in his strong arms. She was overcome by the feel of those arms around her. He was so solid and warm … like he was on fire beneath his shirt. Momentarily stunned, she gazed into his face, unable to speak.

  “Are you all right?” His voice snapped her out of it.

  “I’m fine.” She finagled her way out of his arms.

  “You sure?”

  She wiped her hands down her jeans, hiding her embarrassment. “I’m always tripping like that. I’m a klutz.”

  He frowned, making his eyes appear even more intimidating. “Then it’s a good thing I’m right next door. Sounds like you need someone to watch over you.”

  The way his eyes were staring at her made her stomach tingle. “Ah, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve been on my own for years. I don’t need anybody.”

  “Why don’t I believe that?”

  She stepped away from him. “Thank you for bringing the groceries in for me.”

  His lips came together in a troublesome scowl. “I’m just next door if you need me.” Doug moved toward the open door. “Enjoy your party, Sam. Lock the door behind me,” he directed over his shoulder.

  After he pulled the door closed, she secured the dead bolt. What is it with this guy and locking doors?

  Heading across the living room, she silently berated her infatuation. Snatching up a bag of groceries, she grumbled, “You have about as much chance with Captain Morgan as winning the lottery.”

  Shoving the dip, cheese, and beer she had bought into her fridge, Sam knew Doug would never want a klutzy nurse for a girlfriend. Then the feeling of his arms around her swept aside her reservations. What wouldn’t she give to get a chance to nestle in those arms for one night? Sighing, she slammed her refrigerator door closed.

  Yep, she would do just about anything.

  * * *

  “And he didn’t ask you out?” Piper demanded as she sat across the card table from Sam. “I mean, not even a hint of coffee?”

  Sam checked her cards. She wasn’t going to get anywhere with a pair of fours. “Nope, nothing.”

  “She needs to ask him to coffee,” Brenda asserted. “He’s waiting for her to make the first move.”

  “You’re the one who always makes the first move, Brenda. That’s not Sam’s style.”

  “Who’s talking about style? I’m talking about getting laid. If she wants to go to bed with the man, she needs to let him know she’s interested.”

  “Who said anything about going to bed with him?” Sam chimed in.

  Brenda and Piper gawked at her from across the table.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Piper exacted. “The goal is to get him into bed, Sam.”

  “I thought the goal was to get married.”

  Brenda laughed at the notion. “Being married is no fun. I should know. Two years with a Porsche sa
lesman taught me that marriage is way overrated.”

  “That’s you, Brenda,” Piper argued, eyeing her cards. “Maybe some of us want to get married.”

  Brenda put her hand face down on the table. “Oh please. How many guys have you fucked, Piper? Last time I checked it was like twenty.”

  Sam sat back in her chair, feeling way out of her league. “Twenty? Really?”

  Piper tossed her cards on the table. Sam noticed she had two pair. Damn.

  “And you haven’t done that many?” Piper countered. “You go through men like most people go through paper towels.”

  “Hey, girls, please,” Sam interjected. “Let’s not get all bent out of shape about this.”

  Brenda turned to her, biting her lower lip. “So what if it’s twenty? I bet Sam’s done quite a few guys, too, haven’t you?”

  Piper folded her arms over her Usher T-shirt. “I bet it’s not even two.”

  All eyes were on Sam. She put her cards down on the table. “Let’s just say it’s somewhere between zero and twenty, okay?”

  Piper was grinning as she reached for her bottle of Miller Lite. “Oh, no. You’re not getting off that easy. How many men have you slept with? We both know about the boyfriend you had back in Dallas, but you never talk about other guys.”

  Brenda nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that’s true.”

  Sam nervously laughed. “Like I could ever get a word in with the two of you.”

  Piper rolled her hand for her to spill the beans. “Come on. How many?”

  Sam could feel the beads of sweat gathering on her upper lip. How in the hell did she get out of this?

  “Sam?” Piper leaned in closer to her. “You’ve had sex, haven’t you?”

  Sucking in a fortifying breath, she winced. “I think so.”

  The shocked expressions on their faces said it all.

  “You think so?” Brenda all but screamed. “What does that mean?”

  Sam reached for the bottle of vodka in the middle of the table. “In nursing school, I was dating this guy before Phil. It only lasted a few weeks, but he belonged to this fraternity. He brought me to a party one night. I got really drunk.” She took a swig of vodka to bolster her courage. “I must have passed out at some point. I woke up in the morning with no clothes and in his bed. He was asleep next to me. I just assumed—”

  “You were date-raped?” Brenda blurted out.

  Sam swallowed back more vodka. “I don’t know.”

  “Were you sore, was there blood, did you see used condoms anywhere?” Piper moved around the table to her side.

  “Honestly, I got out of there so fast, I never looked for any of that stuff. I was just so ashamed. I went back to my parents’ house and kept my mouth shut.”

  Brenda came up to her. “Honey, you never reported it?”

  Sam sat back in her chair, feeling a little overwhelmed. “I’m the daughter of a Methodist minister with a big church in Dallas. Do you think I could report something like that and not have it get back to my father’s congregation?” She took another gulp of vodka.

  “So you and Phil never had sex then?” Brenda probed.

  Swallowing down the sting of vodka, Sam shook her head. “Phil wanted to wait until we got married.”

  Brenda and Piper stared at each other. Sam didn’t like what she saw percolating behind their eyes.

  “What? What are you thinking?”

  “Baby girl, you need to get under a man,” Brenda cooed. “And I think your Captain Morgan is just the guy.”

  “Definitely,” Piper concurred.

  “No way!” Sam stood from her chair, still gripping the bottle of vodka. “I bet he already has tons of girlfriends.”

  “Have you seen any going in and out of his place?”

  “No. I haven’t seen anyone.”

  “Then he’s available,” Brenda insisted. “A girlfriend would be all over his apartment.”

  “Absolutely.” Piper snapped her fingers. “You can have your first-time sex with him. Every girl deserves a nice first time with a guy.”

  Sam sighed while shaking her head. “I knew I should never have said anything to you two.”

  Piper placed her hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Sam, you need to put yourself out there with this guy.”

  Sam took another long pull of vodka. “But how?”

  Brenda took the bottle from her hand. “Whenever he’s around just smile, be friendly. If he asks you to go for coffee, go.”

  “Why coffee?” Sam asked, confused.

  “A man always invites you for coffee to get to know you and ask you questions. If he likes what he hears at coffee, he will ask you to dinner.”

  Sam felt panicky. “What if he skips the coffee and goes right to the dinner question?”

  Brenda pulled her toward the back wall of windows in her living room. “They never skip coffee. It’s sort of a rule.”

  “There are rules?” Sam shouted, getting anxious.

  Piper spoke up behind her. “The general rule is that there are no rules. Just enjoy yourself.”

  “Start going over to his place to ask for help.” Brenda tugged her down the hallway toward her bedroom. “You know, man things. Hang a picture, open my stuck cabinet drawer, fix my disposal … that kind of stuff.”

  “We have a super for that. Marv,” Sam informed them.

  “So what?” Piper returned. “You’re asking him.”

  “But I don’t have anything that’s broken.”

  “Then break something,” Piper insisted.

  When they came to her oak bedroom door, Sam hesitated. “Why are we going in my bedroom?”

  Brenda winked at her as her hand went to the brass doorknob. “Not to worry. We’re going to show you what to do.” She opened the door and walked inside.

  Sam followed her with Piper close behind.

  “Darlin’, any woman knows you can’t set your sights on a man unless you’ve got a really good plan,” Brenda said, opening her closet. “And the best plan begins with a killer outfit.”

  Sam watched as the two women scrutinized her wardrobe, looking for that “fuckability factor,” as Brenda put it. Knowing Brenda’s fondness for cleavage hugging dresses that stopped short of showing her vagina, and Piper’s preference for all things pink, Sam had a sinking feeling things were about to get ugly.

  It was after midnight when she finally got Brenda and Piper out her front door. They had selected three outfits they claimed were suitable for seducing Captain Morgan—none of which Sam would be caught dead in. She had appreciated their efforts, but all the eye shadow and red lipstick they had piled on her face—insisting on a makeover—only made Sam feel more foolish. Instead of telling them that she had no interest in pursuing her neighbor, Sam let them fuss over her and promised to apply all of their little tricks.

  Glimpsing the disarray in her living room, Sam opted to wait until morning to clean up. Checking the lock on her door, she thought of Doug. The man was making her paranoid. As she was turning away, she heard the elevator doors open. Frozen to her spot, she listened as someone walked past her front door.

  The footsteps stopped right outside her apartment, and she could see the shadow of a figure coming through the crack at the bottom of her door. Her heart pounding, she listened intently for any sound.

  Instinctively, Sam knew it was him. She wanted to open her door to see if she was right, but then what? What did she tell him?

  Shaking her head, she let go a long sigh. Realizing she had sighed just a little too loudly, she clapped her hand over her mouth. Unfortunately, when she did that, her elbow hit the front door, hard.

  “Shit!”

  Almost instantly, there was a light rapping on her door. “Sam, you okay?”

  God, it was him! Now what did she do? Her mind was a total blank. All the vodka she had downed during the evening was catching up with her.

  “Sam?”

  She glanced down at her tight blue jeans and T-shirt, hoping she looked all right. Fum
bling with the lock on the door, she decided to blame the episode on the vodka and send him on his way.

  “Doug,” she chirped, sounding upbeat. “Just coming in?”

  His eyes were all over her, then he grinned. “What have you been doing?”

  “Oh, you know. Just hanging out with the girls.”

  He nodded toward her living room. “Have they gone?”

  “Yep.” She leaned against her door. “I was locking up when I heard someone in the hallway.”

  He pointed to her face. “Do you usually put on so much makeup when your friends come over?”

  She drew a blank. “Huh?”

  He ran his thumb over her bottom lip. When he held his out hand, she saw the bright red lipstick Brenda had insisted was the perfect shade for her.

  “Crap!” She had forgotten about the makeup.

  When she went to the mirror at the end of her entrance hall, she caught her reflection. It was worse than she had feared.

  “I’m all for makeup on a woman,” he said, coming in her door. “But in moderation.” He shut the front door.

  She wiped her hands over her face, her cheeks burning. “Yeah, Brenda and Piper got a bit carried away with their makeover.”

  “You don’t need a makeover, Sam. You’re fine just the way you are.”

  She was distracted by his tailored suit, the scent of that fantastic cologne, and his slightly tousled rich brown hair. “Are you coming from a date or something?” She wavered slightly. The rush of blood to her head, along with the vodka, made her momentarily lightheaded.

  His arm went around her waist. “Have you been drinking?”

  She peered up at him. “What else are you supposed to do on a girls’ night?”

  “Let’s get you to the sofa before you fall down.”

  Her first instinct was to push him away. She could take care of herself, but then all the coaching her friends had pounded into her about seducing a man came to mind. Perhaps she should just go along with this damsel in distress thing.

  When he set her on the floral sofa, he pulled away, leaving her with a sudden chill.

  “Where do you keep your coffee?” he demanded, heading to her kitchen.