Every Woman's Fantasy. Vicki Lewis Thompson
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“Come on, pal. What’s one night compared to a whole lifetime?”
“Good point. Okay, I will not make love to Charlie this weekend. Maybe just a kiss or two. That wouldn’t cause a problem. Just—” His breath caught. There she was. Oh, damn, she was gorgeous. And so hot. The red dress hugged her curves and swooped down in front to show off the sweetest cleavage he’d ever been privileged to ogle. Damn. He couldn’t imagine how he’d keep his hands to himself, his zipper zipped. But he had to. He would. He would.
Their waiter was ready to escort her and a stunning brunette to the table, but Charlie spoke to him and the waiter paused.
Smart girl, Mark thought. She wanted to check out her date before the maître d’ brought her over. If Mark turned out to be the Hunchback of Notre Dame or The Wolfman, then she could still leave. His Charlie was no dummy.
He stood and started toward her.
She scanned the room and when her gaze settled on him, her smile nearly caused his heart to stop beating. Adrenaline made him shaky as he approached. Seeing her picture hadn’t prepared him for her megawatt smile or eyes that sparkled like the waters of the Gulf on a sunny day.
He glanced quickly at the waiter. “I’ll escort them over,” he said.
“As you wish, sir.” The waiter nodded and walked away.
Mark’s gaze settled on Charlie again and he couldn’t stop grinning. Even her ears were sexy. Before Charlie, he hadn’t been a fan of short hair, but with ears that cute, he could see the advantage. He wanted to nibble each diamond-studded lobe while he whispered sweet nothings to his Charlie.
“Hello, Mark.” Her voice trembled just enough to tell him how excited she was.
“Hello, Charlie.” He wasn’t sure what to do next. He wanted to bury his fingers in her blond, wavy hair, tilt her head back and kiss that plump mouth covered in tomato-red lipstick to match her dress. But that probably wasn’t a good idea right here in the middle of the restaurant. Besides, if a kiss or two was all he was allowed tonight, he needed to pace himself. “You’re…beautiful,” he said. “So beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Her cheeks grew pink. “You’re quite the treat, yourself.” Then she extended her hand. “Nice to meet you at last, Mark.”
He took her warm, soft hand in both of his and held it as if he’d never let go. She was unbelievable. And that dress… His mouth grew moist and his groin tightened. “I’m sorry we waited three months,” he said.
“We were trying to be sensible, I guess.”
“That was stupid.”
“Maybe.” She gazed into his eyes for a moment longer before slowly easing her hand from his and shifting her attention to the brunette standing next to her. “Mark, I’d like you to meet my sister, Ashley McPherson.”
He’d been so absorbed in Charlie that he’d practically forgotten about Ashley. Now that he took a good look at Charlie’s sister, he wanted to laugh with pleasure. Sam was going to thank him for this day.
Ashley was tall, at least five-eight, but Sam was six-two, so no problem there. Her hair reminded him of a Cherry Coke—rich brown with red highlights—and she had green eyes. Green eyes were a particular weakness of Sam’s. He wasn’t averse to a dynamite figure, either. Yep, he would bless the day his good buddy Mark had set him up with Charlie’s sister.
Well, he might not be thrilled about the stories Mark had concocted. But once he realized how necessary it had been in order to start Mark off on the right foot with Charlie, then old Sam would come around.
Ashley held out her hand. “Glad to meet you, Mark.”
Mark shook her hand enthusiastically. “Ashley, it means so much to me that you agreed to come tonight. And I’m sure it will mean the world to Sam, too. Let’s head over to the table and I’ll introduce you.”
“All right, but first I want to set my ground rules. I’m doing this as a special favor to Charlie, but please don’t expect that we’ll become a regular foursome.”
“Absolutely. I completely understand.” He gestured toward the table in the corner. “We’re right over here.”
As the women threaded their way through the tables with Mark following behind, Sam rose from his chair. Mark wondered if Ashley might be rethinking her comment about ending the foursome tonight. Sam usually attracted women like a magnet.
Of course Ashley also thought Sam had a serious phobia about women who turned out to be men, but that would be cleared up before too long. The more Mark thought about the idea of Sam and Ashley getting together, the more he liked it. He and Sam were like brothers, so how perfect if they ended up with sisters.
They reached the table, and Mark cleared his throat. “Sam Cavanaugh, I’d like you to meet Charlie and Ashley McPherson. Ladies, this is my best man—uh, I mean my best friend, Sam.”
Sam shook hands with Charlie first. “It’s a pleasure, Charlie.” Then his gaze flicked over her shoulder to lock with Mark’s. The message was clear. Danger. Don’t touch.
Mark gave his buddy a short nod of understanding, which doubled as a pledge to be careful. Charlie’s perfume, something spicy and exotic, wafted up to him. Oh, God, it was as if she’d set out to sabotage all his good intentions. Well, he’d have to be strong.
Then Sam shook hands with Ashley. This time he didn’t bother to glance at Mark. Nope. All his concentration was fixed on the lovely Ashley in her elegant little black dress. “It’s good to meet you,” he said.
Mark recognized that tone of voice. Sam never used it unless he was interested in a woman. Hot damn. This was going great. Sam would become mesmerized by Ashley, which would leave Mark free to…well, to do something special with Charlie. Not go to bed with her, of course. He cherished her too much to risk jeopardizing their future. But he would love to kiss her…a lot.
“Shall we sit down?” Ashley asked.
Mark snapped to attention. He’d been so busy dreaming and scheming that he’d left them all standing there by the table. His only consolation was that Sam must have been a little dazed by his first glimpse of Ashley, too, since he hadn’t started pulling out chairs for the women, either.
“Yes,” Mark said. “By all means.” He hurried around to a chair and pulled it away from the table. “Charlie?”
“Thank you.” She gave him another one of those dynamite smiles as she walked toward the chair. First she hooked the little red purse she was carrying over the chair by its long rhinestone-studded strap. Then she did that thing that always got Mark hot when he watched women seat themselves. She smoothed the skirt of her dress down over her bottom before she sat down, so she wouldn’t wrinkle the material.
Mark loved it when women did that. And to watch Charlie slide both hands over that shiny red material was almost more than he could stand. After her wonderful behind was tucked in securely against the velvet seat, he gripped the back of her chair and scooted her in. That’s when he chanced to look down over her shoulder. Oh, Lord. The neckline of her dress was like a curtain