The Marriage Mistake

Page 9

Instead of backing down, she hooted with laughter. “Are you kidding? The only type of stamina I need right now is a man who can make a hundred cups of coffee in record time. I bet you don’t even know how to make a decent espresso.”
He placed his lemonade down on the table and stared in disbelief. “You did not just say that to me. I’m Italian. I’ve been making homemade espresso my entire life.”
She snorted and finally tamed the machine. A trickle of dark liquid poured into the cup, and the scent of rich roasted beans hit his nostrils. “Sure, in your nice shiny kitchen with your gourmet equipment. Why don’t you get your hands dirty, boss, and show me what you got?”
“Are you challenging me?”
Carina shrugged. “Forget it. Wouldn’t want to ruin your fancy clothes.”
He muttered a curse, tossed his lemonade in the trash, and stalked behind the table. With efficient motions, he donned a pair of gloves, snatched an extra ball cap, and grabbed her shoulders. Her startled jump matched his own as the sexual electricity zinged between them. He moved her out of the way. The machine spit out a billow of steam as if their sudden intimate moment pissed it off.
He yanked back his hands and covered it up with a growl. “Step aside.”
Her pupils dilated as if recognizing and responding to the command in his voice. Max grew hot, and it had nothing to do with the weather or the coffee. Something about the awareness in her dark eyes hit him where it hurt. Right in his dick.
“Time me.”
Max knew there were certain rules in perfecting a great cup of espresso. Ingredients were primary—pure arabica beans medium roasted and not toasted, fresh water without any lingering chemicals to dilute the taste, and the proper machine. The rest was skill, especially the right amount of pressure used in the tamping process, which could make or break the balance. He fell into the rhythm perfected from years of impressing women and his own mother. Remove filter holder. Add fresh-ground coffee. Tamp while holding filter holder off to the side. Polish. Pour. Serve. Repeat.
Max felt her gaze on him but refused to break his meditative trance and engage in banter. How dare the woman insult his skill?
Carl whistled as he twisted and served four cups at once. “Damn, Mr. Gray, that’s some serious moves you got.”
“Thanks. Come over here and let me show you. One day you’ll get one of these bad boys and impress the heck out of some girl.” He winked. “Maybe even close the deal.”
The kid’s eyes widened. “Hell, yeah. Bring it.”
Max tutored the interns in the fine art of seduction via coffee. Carina reached past him to grab the cinnamon. “Why do men turn everything into a way to score women?” The side of her breast brushed his shoulder and his hand slipped on the lever. The machine spit in fury.
“Damn, you broke my rhythm. And the answer is simple. Men have only two things they ever think about: food and women.”
“Sometimes sports,” Carl said seriously.
Carina sighed.
The next few hours flew by in a whirl of activity until every bone in Max’s body ached. Still, there was something about them working together that fit, until each motion seemed coordinated. The back-and-forth banter between them made the work fun. Max realized he had the tendency to be a bit too serious, and her playful quips fascinated the interns, who always saw him as stuffy.
He also noticed the long line of men coming up for seconds and peering around the table to get a glimpse of bare skin exposed from the tiny white shorts. Carina seemed to sense the attention and play it up. Each man left the booth looking a bit bedazzled, which only pissed him off. Were men that simpleminded that a saucy wink or swing of the hips caused them to lose brain function?
Yes.
Especially with Carina. Her body was killer, but it was her ability to laugh and be open that grabbed a male’s full attention. She made them crave to be in the spotlight. Her spotlight. Max shoved a cup at the nerd gaping in front of him a little too firmly. The liquid sloshed over the rim and he yelped.
“You should’ve worn the sales uniform,” he said. “That outfit’s a bit too eye-catching.”
She rolled her eyes like he was an older uncle. “Sure, a black pantsuit would really make me fit in. It’s almost eighty degrees.”
“We need to retain a professional image.”
Her laugh did bad things to his gut. “Oh, Max, you’re a hoot. Why do you think I wore these shorts?” The naughty wink stole his breath and made him feel like a fool. “You taught me well. No reason not to use your body, charm, and brain to step things up a bit, hmmm?”
For the first time, Max was rendered speechless by a slip of a girl who had turned into a challenger worthy of any man. She seemed to sense her victory and, with a tiny smirk, served the last of the customers.
Chapter Five
Carina stared at herself in the full-length mirror.
She looked hot.
Pleasure rolled through her as she turned and watched the long skirt swish past her legs. The royal blue fabric emphasized her golden brown skin and dark hair. Definitely a long way from her old wardrobe and desire to hide. Nope, this dress screamed “I am here,” and she loved it.
The bodice was snug and covered her properly but the back was the real eye opener. She thought about twisting herself into one of those awful female contraptions to hold her bust in, then decided to skip the bra. Just the barest hint of her nipples showed—a tease rather than a full-out display. It made her feel sexy and naked under the fabric. Naughty.
Exactly what she needed to get ready for her date.
The strains of Flo Rida pumped through the room and she shook her hips to the grinding notes as she applied her makeup. Hopefully, Edward would find her outfit just as tempting, and the chemistry would fly between them. She imagined his hand sliding under her bodice to play with her bare breasts, twisting the hard nub between his fingers while she arched up, parted her legs and—
An image of Max’s face flashed before her.
She paused in applying the kohl to her eyes and scowled at herself in the mirror. Damn him. Why did he have to be so frikkin sexy all the time? She’d never thought he’d join her at the fair in the booth. He looked all cool and elegant in his proper green knit shirt, khakis, and leather loafers. Perfectly tousled hair blowing in the breeze, that aristocratic nose held in the air while he berated her, she couldn’t help but taunt him, never believing he’d take the dare. The man was in charge of the whole company, yet he worked the espresso machine like a master and even charmed her two interns into thinking he was a cool dude.
Carina shivered at the memory. He had some serious skills. Those elegant fingers skimmed across buttons and levers like a lover, coaxing the best from the machine. After the first hour, he actually relaxed and seemed to be having fun. Those white teeth flashed as he smiled and engaged with the crowd, his muscles bunching and rippling with each twist and turn of his body. She found herself staring at his ass way too much—the soft fabric cupping his rear and making her want things. Bad things. With Max.
Carina closed her eyes. Dio, she had to stop thinking about him like that. Tonight, she intended to get to know Edward better and hopefully engage in some hot foreplay. This was her first official date in America as her own woman, and she wasn’t about to screw it up by salivating over Max.
Not anymore.
She finished her makeup and grabbed her designer sandals. The crisscross straps wrapped up her legs and shimmered with sapphires. God, she loved shoes. When she battled her weight problem, she discovered her passion for footwear. They never made her look fat, and it was a great way to raise her self-esteem. Her scarlet red toenails matched her lips.
Carina slid on some bangle bracelets and swishy silver earrings and grabbed her shawl and beaded bag. Then headed out the door.
Showtime.
• • •
Max looked at his companion and wondered why he felt nothing.
He’d been attracted to her for a while. After her bold comment in his office, he realized she wanted to take their relationship to the next level. The conversation with Carina burned in his ears, and it was time he proved her wrong. Laura exhibited everything he’d been looking for, and this time Carina couldn’t taunt him about snagging the wrong woman.
He ordered Laura a glass of wine and found a seat in the corner. Scanning the room, Max kept one ear on her comments and his gaze on the other guests. As the minutes ticked by, he wondered if Carina changed her mind and canceled her date. He almost longed to cancel his own. The long hours at the fair gave him a slight sunburn, a sore back from bending over, and a hard-on that wouldn’t go away. Not that he cared. He enjoyed Laura’s tinkling laugh, along with the generous show of cleavage from her black dress. His odd reaction toward Carina concerned him, and he admitted it had been a while since he pleasured a woman. Too much work and too little play, Max joked to himself.
She walked in.
Odd, she’d been a part of the seams of his life for so long, he never noticed her back home. Here, her presence burned bright, as if the sun peeked out from stormy skies to tempt beachgoers with a taste of heat. The past years changed and ripened both her body and mind, until the result stormed past him like a pack of racehorses toward the finish line.
Max surrendered and stared.
She favored color now. She used to cloak her body in olive greens and grays in an effort to hide. Tonight, she tossed caution and seized a spotlight in pure temptation.
Thank God her legs were finally covered. The filmy, draped royal blue fabric flowed and stretched over those generous hips and breasts and swished to the floor. He caught a glimpse of matching stilettos as she walked, her head thrown back in a laugh. Her heavy mass of dark chocolate curls was pinned up and bared the vulnerable curve of her neck.
Edward held her elbow in a possessive gesture and whispered something in her ear. She laughed again and turned.
The air rushed out of his lungs. Her naked back gleamed in the dim lights, her rich olive skin beckoning for him to run his tongue down the line of her spine for a taste. The fabric gathered at her waist and left far too much skin available for view. How could she wear a bra with a dress like that? His gaze sharpened as she moved across the room.
The tight thrust of her nipples shadowed the delicate fabric. A punch of savage lust rippled through him and left him reeling. Confirmed. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Those heavy breasts swayed freely and teased every damn man in the room with a game of hide and go peek. Ignoring the crowd and seemingly in a world of their own, the couple took directly to the dance floor. Edward held her tight, way too tight by the looks of it, his hand roaming over the thrust of her hip to settle at the top of her ass. What the hell? They just arrived and he couldn’t keep his hands to himself? They didn’t even look around to see who was here. This was a dinner party for Christ’s sake, not a nightclub. What happened to proper introductions?
“Darling? What has you so distracted this evening?”
He shook his head. Hard. Then forced a smile. “I’m sorry, I just saw a friend of mine. Do you mind if I leave you for a moment?”
Her teeth flashed blindingly and gave him a headache. Whose teeth were that white anyway? “Of course. As long as it’s not too long.” The deliberate pout spoke volumes. He could definitely take her to bed tonight. He filed the thought away and crossed the room.