Bedazzled (The Beguiling Bachelors Book 1) Page 2

  The family resemblance continued with his brother who appeared about ten years his junior, fresh faced and innocent, but already a vice-president. The beautiful woman pictured there was identified as his sister and Chief Financial Officer. She looked just a few years Wyatt’s junior, serious and aristocratic. Together they embodied the perfect example of a privileged family and a solid, trustworthy executive team.

  Once she knew his name, Keeli devoured every bit of information she could find about Wyatt. She knew she was standing just inches from one of Chicago’s most eligible bachelors. Wyatt Lyons Howe was American blueblood, old money, European tours, private clubs and the best schools. Heir to the massive LHRE empire, he oozed success from every pore. He moved like he owned the world, or at least a sizable chunk of it.

  Here she was, basking in the warmth of the sun that was Wyatt. Keeli knew if she just inched back she could be touching him. After all, she lusted after him, fantasized about him endlessly, dreaming with him, marrying him, growing old with him. He was everything she was looking for in her perfect man – intelligence, sophistication, a commanding air, sex appeal and those staggering good looks.

  Oh yeah, and he had that power thing going too. He radiated power. It was such a turn on.

  As she caught a hint of his clean, outdoorsy scent, Keeli pictured him behind her; his gorgeous face, that end-of-day shadowed jaw, the slight tan he sported even during a Chicago winter. Wyatt dominated her dreams, waking and sleeping. She had fallen in love with him the first time she heard him laugh a hearty, full-bodied sound that gave her a sense that he knew how to enjoy life. He was her dream man. He was her “complete package”.

  So what if we have never exchanged two words? Details, details.

  At that very moment, she envisioned him reaching out from behind her, slipping his arms around her and pulling her up against him. She could imagine the rough feel of his wool trousers, scratchy against her thighs, followed by the softer feel of his fingers sliding up her legs. She felt goose bumps rise on her skin as she fantasized about his lips caressing her neck moving from there to her cheekbone as he spun her around so she was pressed against him, his mouth, descending to claim hers in a kiss. She pictured herself dizzy with desire, all feminine softness clasped against the hard power of his thighs, the length of his erection….Oh my god, she was getting damp just standing near him, letting her imagination run wild.

  Keeli’s heart thumped above the workings of the old elevator, so loud she wondered if Wyatt could hear it too. Was he looking at her with those piercing blue eyes? Was he flashing her his perfect smile, clear evidence of great genes or years of orthodontia? She wanted to turn around and get one last look at this beautiful man to store in her memory but she was so aroused she feared he would notice.

  Standing in front of him now, Keeli’s head just reached his shoulder despite her own above average height. Her body itched to sway back the scant distance necessary to close the gap between them. She imagined resting her head upon his broad chest, feeling the softness of his fine shirt, leaning her rounded contours against the hard planes of his chest.

  I will have to wear heels when we date. As if I would ever have an opportunity to stand beside him in any circumstance other than this one. Who am I kidding? Damn, did I think the elevator was slow? This ride is going way too fast.

  They had quickly dropped from the upper levels of the building and the doors opened on the fourth floor. Two more people stepped into the already crowded space and automatically, Keeli backed up to accommodate them.

  And it happened. In a split second, without thinking or planning, Keeli backed into Wyatt, her hand resting solidly against the front of his pants. Thank heavens he couldn’t see her face now, flaming every shade of red. He didn’t move at first, shocked perhaps, and then his large hand swiftly nudged hers away. Had she felt an erection? Wanting to die of mortification, Keeli feigned ignorance and Wyatt chose to do the same.

  It was one thing to imagine it, but to do it, even by mistake. She wanted to crawl in a hole and die. In moments, they were at lobby level. The doors opened, the bell jingled, and Keeli felt the unmistakable feel of his hand on the small of her back, warm, strong and certain. It was solidly placed and it was electric. The sensuous touch heating her skin through her light dress caused Keeli’s whole body to vibrate.

  Before she even registered the contact in her brain, her senses alerted her to the silky feel of his hand snaking its way over the curve of her hip in an unfaltering caress. The contact was swift but significant. He had her round derriere in the firm grasp of his large palm. He never looked her way, although Keeli would swear he had just quite intentionally grabbed her ass.

  Am I wrong? Is this an accident? Could he really have been unaware?

  The elevator was emptying as she stepped out, still feeling the erotic heat of his breath on her neck, and his hand moving on her behind. Flustered, she remained mute. He too said nothing, cool and composed as he stepped from the car. Then he was gone, moving from the elevator through the crowd with that long, easy stride, unaware of the overwhelming desire coursing through her.

  He must have done it on purpose, right? He must find me desirable. Hang on, Keeli; maybe he thinks you’re a piece of meat. Who the hell does he think he is anyway? Dammit, am I supposed to be excited or offended? What a turn-on. I am an idiot; I just let a total stranger grope me. Of course, I did grope him first…

  Her heart pounding, her skin tingling, Keeli was hot all over from the combination of her fantasy and the very real feel of his large hand on her ass. She basked in the sensations overwhelming her body, relived the moment until the fog lifted from her brain and allowed it to reengage. She regained her composure, shoved her arms through her coat and checked to make sure it was closed. She secured her box under her arm and headed with the crowd toward the revolving doors.

  Rain was falling, cold and unrelenting. Keeli pulled her inadequate coat closer and stepped away from the protection of the building. She felt the warmth of her desire and her chances of seeing Wyatt ever again slip away as if running down the nearest storm drain, replaced by the chilly rain. She walked the short block to the “L” station getting drenched. With each step, the warmth of the unbelievable encounter disappeared to be replaced by the sad reality of cold, wet, and broke.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Wyatt got all the way to the garage before he turned sharply on his heel and strode back to the elevators. A quick scan of the lobby and he knew the redhead had escaped. Aggravated, he punched the button for the elevator, stabbed at it repeatedly, impatiently. Wyatt entered the vacant elevator and prowled it like a caged panther until the doors opened at the top floor.

  Wyatt had just crossed the line with that beautiful woman and he should be mortified. But in the last 16 months he had struggled to keep his hands off of her, stopping just short of smoothing her red-brown curls, staring rudely into her eyes, resisting brushing against her. Once he caught himself just before he leaned in to kiss that spot on the nape of her neck that was exposed when she tossed her head. Today was too much. He was too close. He could not stop himself anymore.

  What is wrong with me? I am a grown man. I have a reputation to maintain of the cool, sophisticated dude and man about town. I have been around the block – several times. I always maintain control – always - except around her, damn it. She makes me lose it.

  His heart was still racing and his pulse pounded in his ears. He was unashamed he had touched her. She felt amazing; soft and round, strong and sexy. Wyatt was completely turned on even as he imagined his mother scolding him for his behavior.

  “You don’t grab a strange girl! That is not what my son does. I raised you to be a perfect gentleman, I did not raise you in a barn.” She loved to remind her children of their manners, conduct and good breeding by using that remark. As if any of them were unable to recognize that the Howe estate was the antithesis of a barn.

  Wyatt wanted to blame her for touching him first, but he could n
ot. He knew her hand had been an accident, an erotic accident. His grope had been intentional.

  Get over her already. She is just a girl, like all the others. In fact, she is likely poorer than most of the women I mess with, so I need this to just stop. I absolutely cannot – will not – tangle with another user who pretends to want me when she wants what I can buy her. Pretty? Oh yeah, she is pretty. Sexy? Yes, unbelievably sexy. OMG, that ass was incredible. Shake it off now, boy. Poor girls only want you to open doors for them and buy them presents. They want one thing and it is not my heart. You already learned that the hard way Wyatt. Smarten up.

  Wyatt freely acknowledged that he was drawn to this woman, to her combination of sexpot and girl next door. He loved the way she always said “good morning“ or “good afternoon” to total strangers. He found it endearing that she made small talk with the barista at the lobby kiosk and knew all about his family. The eloquent Wyatt Howe IV rarely found himself tongue-tied, but he had been unable to strike up a conversation with her for more than a year. He figured if he just had a simple conversation, he could move past this obsession. However, as soon as he saw her he was aroused - aroused and silent. His hormones ruled his brain just from a smile and a sweet, little hello. Seriously, he found it embarrassing. He found it a problem.

  I think I could care about this one. She could do some serious damage when she walks away and they always walk away. Either I won’t marry them, or I won’t give them access to the money. Or I don’t take them to meet the right people. They all have some excuse. She could mess me up I think. I have been there before; got the t-shirt. I am done getting my heart broken.

  In his effort to protect his heart and his wallet, Wyatt had been diligent about keeping his responses to a polite but cool “good morning” or “good evening” when she was in a crowd with others. No conversation alone. No smiles, no encouragement. It was not easy for him either. Not when she walked away, hips swaying provocatively, and he could stare at those long, long legs and that heart-shaped ass. He found himself struggling to put her out of his mind and today he decided to do something about it. He touched her. Oh man, did he touch her!

  He couldn’t help himself. Today had just been one disaster after another and the pressures on him were heading toward a boiling point. Life was closing in, forcing him to make tough choices, squeezing out the ability to make good judgment calls. Wyatt was a little bit saint and a little bit devil and the two started warring the second she stepped on the elevator and he caught a whiff of her light floral perfume.

  Don’t I deserve just a little treat? I have been working like a dog. Besides, I just did what she did and copped a little feel. I suppose I could have made it look more like an accident. It was beyond my control, if I am honest. The moment she made contact with my crotch, I was a goner.

  Wyatt’s erection had been inevitable; his body responded so fast that he had no choice but to move her hand away. In one more moment, the effect she had on him would have been obvious. On the other hand, did moving her hand away just draw attention to the growing bulge?

  Wracking his brain for an excuse, Wyatt knew that moving her hand did not logically extend to grabbing her ass. He meant nothing by the harmless, light hand he rested on the small of her back to steady her in the crowd. That was a well-meant, innocent gesture. Before he could control what he was doing, the innocent gesture gave way to a serious caress of her luscious behind. In that few inches of contact, done quickly, he managed to get a sense of her curves, of her softness and warmth. After that taste, he hungered for more.

  Wyatt, you bad, bad boy. His saintly side chastised him.

  Worried now that she might think him a dirty old man, he hoped that she thought his touch was reflexive, unintentional in the jostle of people.

  I should have grabbed more. Way more. The devil prevailed.

  He had fixated long enough. Today she opened the door and he stepped through it. He had been compelled to touch her and now he was compelled to take things further. This Friday afternoon felt different. Desperation gnawed at him, demanded he finally connect with her. He could not explain it, but suddenly he was forced to act, to move things forward; it felt like time was running out and he could not let her get away.

  Stomping out of the elevator, Wyatt bulldozed through the huge glass doors with the large gold LHRE logo on them, barking at his assistant half a corridor away. She looked up through cat-eye glasses, unfazed by his shouting.

  “Annette,” he bellowed moving across the plush carpeting toward her. “There is a girl getting off on the 12th floor every day, red curls to the middle of her back, green - no blue- no green eyes. About normal height, gorgeous long legs and really bad clothes. She has that sweet, girl-next-door personality. You can’t miss it. I need you to find her. I want to know everything about her by end of day Monday. Got it?” Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and headed for the door.

  “Should I get her shoe size too, Wyatt? Are you planning to buy her a new wardrobe?” Annette quipped as he yanked the door open with force.

  “I mean it, Annette. Find her.”

  Wyatt relied on Annette for everything and she never disappointed. He knew that by this time Monday he would have the necessary info and by the end of week he planned to have that luscious body in his arms, that mane of red hair spread over his pillows. He knew Annette was a bulldog who would find her, and fast. Wyatt had a new confidence, a bounce to his step as he strode back through the double doors.

  Yeah, she is probably just someone else to use me, but user or not, I need to see where this leads. I need to see if a date or two cures me of this obsession or intensifies it. Definitely. Annette will find her by Monday and I will ask her out next Wednesday. Don’t want to look too anxious.

  Wyatt was almost correct. In only two hastily placed phone calls, Annette obtained the name of the showroom that employed Keeli along with the information that she had left with no forwarding email or phone. Wyatt was still striding through the garage when Annette also knew that Wyatt was a few hours too late. She would let him keep that bounce in his step a few days longer. Monday would be soon enough to let him know that the less-than-chic redhead had slipped through his fingers.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Do you think he will come over here? I really want him to come over here. I want him to come even if he is brings that woman with him. Oh, I do not really want him to bring that woman. Oh hell, do you think he will remember me at all?”

  “Do you think perhaps you could stop bouncing and take a breath, Keeli?” The broad smile on Clarice Washington’s face helped take the sting from her words.

  Keeli noticed Wyatt immediately, despite the growing crowd at the Wells Street Art Fair, despite the fact that she had been tucked into a corner of the booth pretending to read Shakespeare. Once she spotted him, she could not stay hidden; energy vibrated through her just knowing he was near. She ventured from the safe haven and cool shadows provided by the back of the booth to pester Clarice, her best friend in Chicago.

  In Keeli’s opinion, Clarice was a brilliant sculptor and a wonderful friend. Clarice was funny and immensely talented and she knew the art market well. They had met over two years ago, when Keeli started making the art show circuit. Since then, whenever possible, they requested placement next each other when registering for art fairs. Today their request had been met.

  “It’s been almost twenty minutes. I don’t even know if I even want him to come over,” Keeli chattered, dancing from foot to foot as if she had coiled springs in her shoes, despite the hot sun and humidity. Wiping the sheen of perspiration from her upper lip, she reapplied lip-gloss and fluffed her hair. Obviously, she did want him to come her way.

  “Why would he stop here anyway unless he wants to buy that blonde a piece of jewelry? I want him to buy something, something really big and expensive,” Keeli says longingly, “but not for her.”

  “Seriously, are we going to have this conversation every Sunday? You either need
to get over him or go talk to him.” Clarice moved toward an approaching customer, unable to hide a bit of exasperation. “I do have to agree though,“ she tossed back over her shoulder, ”the man is a hunk of gorgeous.”

  Keeli was left standing alone, admiring Wyatt’s tall form and broad shoulders clad in an unwrinkled linen-shirt. Even from this distance, she was able to see his biceps strain the sleeves. She admired his easy loose-limbed step. She watched him with longing as he maneuvered through the throngs of people with ease, narrowing the gap between them.

  “If he keeps showing up every Sunday, I guess we will have the conversation every Sunday.” Keeli followed Clarice into her booth, keeping one eye on the small space where she was displaying her jewelry, ready to jump if a customer approached.

  “Well, you haven’t been with a man for ages so I can see why you live in a dream world. Have you even had a date since Christmas?” Clarice’s probe was meant to be gentle, but her blunt ways, while endearing, stung now. “My guess is that if you let go of your superman and set your sights back here on earth you might find a real guy.”

  “You mean a man like that would never go for a woman like me, and I get that. I do. I don’t expect a real relationship with Wyatt, but a girl can dream, right?”

  “Yeah, dream all you want, but it won’t keep you warm at night.”

  “That’s not fair, Clarice. I have been launching a new business, and I work every weekend.”

  “Excuses, excuses. You still got an empty bed. I’m just sayin’…” Clarice tossed the words over her shoulder as she moved to stand in front of her tent again. With Wyatt in the world, Keeli struggled with even the idea of settling for another man. He would come up short. They all did.