Chapter 6
“This woman is driving me crazy!” Chris stormed into Ian’s office, closing the door forcefully.
Ian turned from his drafting table. “Shellie finally realized that she could do better?”
Chris snorted. “Of course not. My wife knows there is no other man for her. I’m talking about the woman who’s holding up the condo project.”
“She still won’t sell?” he asked incredulously.
“No. We offered more than the fair market value and she won’t budge. It’s been two weeks since Sam went to her shop. He’s called twice and she basically told him not to bother calling again.”
Ian blew out a long breath. “I need this deal to go through. What are we going to do?”
Chris propped a hip against the table and folded his arms. “Dad is going to try to schedule a meeting with her for the first or second week of December. Since today is Thursday and Thanksgiving is next week, he thought it would be better to hold off.”
“It must be serious if Dad’s going to hold the meeting.”
“He doesn’t want to mess around with this. Apparently, word got back to him that a couple of the investors from Capshaw’s party are getting antsy. Hopefully, she’ll come around. I don’t want this to mess up the holidays. You should plan on coming. We might need you.”
Ian nodded. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get this done. Just tell me when.”
“Good.” Chris angled his head and studied the design on the table. “Is that for the office complex?”
“Yeah. I want to have two or three designs ready, based on what the client requested. I’m ready to take on more projects, but Dad still seems reluctant. The other three architects will be doing the same and I want mine to stand out.”
“Well, judging from these, I’d say you’ve pretty much got the deal locked up. And don’t worry about Dad. He knows how good you are at your job. Oh, before I forget, Shellie said you’re invited for dinner tonight.”
Ian smiled. “As much as I love my sister-in-law’s cooking, I’ll have to take a rain check. Maya and I are hanging out tonight.”
Chris’s brow knit in confusion. “Maya?”
“Yep. The woman from the party.”
“You’re still seeing her? I thought it was supposed to be a one-nighter. It’s been two weeks.”
Yeah. Two weeks of the best sex of Ian’s life. Visions of their lovemaking last Saturday popped into his head. “We agreed to a short-term affair just until the end of the year.”
“And you’re sure you’ll be able to walk away after that time?”
He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I? I’m not looking for anything long-term and neither is she.
” Somewhere in the back of his mind, a nagging voice told him walking away might not be as easy as he thought, but he immediately dismissed it.
Ian glanced down at his watch, stood, shut down his laptop and rolled up the papers. “I need to get going.”
“For a casual affair, you sure are eager to see her. And on a weeknight,” Chris said with a smile. “You’ve never acted this way with other women.”
“How do you know?” Ian asked, making sure to lock up his files. He was taking his designs home to work on them...if his evening with Maya ended early.
“Remember, I’ve been around since you were born.
So I know you pretty well.” Chris followed Ian out of the office and waited while he locked the door.
“Sounds to me like things are not as casual as you’d like to believe.
” He clapped Ian on the shoulder. “Have fun and don’t forget what I told you at the party.
” He strolled off down the hall to his office without waiting for a reply.
He ignored Chris’s reference to being bitten by the love bug.
Ian had no intention of being bitten by anything.
But no matter what he tried to tell himself, he enjoyed being with her.
His anticipation mounted the closer he got to Maya’s place.
And by the time he rang her doorbell, his heart was racing with excitement.
She greeted him with a smile that made his heart leap.
“Hi, Ian. Come on in.”
The greeting was barely off her tongue before he lifted her in his arms, kicked the door closed and kissed her with a hunger that stunned him and gave him pause. He eased back and lowered her to the floor.
“Now, that’s a greeting,” Maya said, taking his hand and leading him to the living room. “It was your turn to pick the place for dinner, so what did you decide?”
“Actually, I was thinking we could stay in tonight—pick up something to eat and take it back to my place.” Where in the hell had that come from? Ian had never invited a woman he was casually dating to his house, and he tried to figure out a way to rescind the offer.
Maya’s eyes lit up and she smiled brightly. “That’s a great idea. I don’t really feel like going to a restaurant. But I wish you would’ve told me earlier so I could make dessert.”
Her smile and enthusiasm, along with the mention of her desserts, killed any notion he had of reneging. “Don’t worry about it. We can always get dessert later, if you want.”
She waved him off. “Wait a minute while I check the kitchen. I usually keep a little something, just in case. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Just some water please.”
“Okay.” She started to the kitchen, then turned back. “And I know you like chocolate.”
As soon as she was out of sight, Ian scrubbed a hand down his face and groaned. What was he thinking?
“I’m ready.”
He spun around at the sound of Maya’s voice. His gaze strayed to the small gift bag in her hand. “You made a dessert already?” he asked, taking a bottle of water from her outstretched hand. He unscrewed the cap and took a huge gulp.
She shook her head. “No. I had some chocolate-chip cookie dough in the freezer. They’ll only take about fifteen minutes. But, if you don’t mind, I can pop them in the oven at your place.”
Ian nearly choked on the water going down his throat. He coughed and tried to catch his breath. Cook? At his place? Granted, he had a state-of-the-art kitchen, but he had never allowed any woman, including his ex, at his stove. That implied an intimacy he purposely avoided.
“Are you okay?” Maya asked with concern.
He nodded. “Fine, fine. Just swallowed wrong.” He composed himself and took a small sip of water.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“So, about the cookies...here or your place?”
He stared at her for a lengthy minute. “We can do them at my place.” He’d already invited her over and it would seem rude to have her bake them here. Or at least that was what he told himself.
They agreed upon and ordered from an Italian restaurant.
On the drive to Ian’s house, Maya sat quietly thinking about the invitation to his house.
Frankly, she was a little surprised, given the nature of their relationship.
Most men didn’t invite women into their homes unless.
.. She quickly struck the thought from her mind.
No. They agreed. Just through the holidays.
A hand on her thigh interrupted her thoughts.
“You okay?”
“Yes. Why?”
“You’re quiet. You mentioned not wanting to go out. Is anything wrong?”
“No. Just some work stuff. Nothing I can’t handle.
” She hadn’t heard anything from the real estate company since she’d declined their last offer almost two weeks ago, but knew they weren’t going to back off.
The thought of losing her dream weighed heavily on her mind.
Not wanting to dwell on that prospect, she asked Ian, “What about your job—do things slow down for you over the holidays?”
“Sometimes, but this year we’re hoping to get a project off the ground soon,” Ian answered, turning into a cul-de-sac.
Maya’s complex was located in a nice neighborhood, but Ian’s home was in one of the more expensive areas—immaculate lawns, large stately houses with balconies, two-and three-car garages. He pulled into the third driveway. “Wow, this is fabulous.”
“Thanks.” He got out, retrieved their food from the backseat and then came around to her side.
She stared at the large two-story structure as they headed up the walkway.
The house was impressive, even in the dark.
He unlocked the door, stepped back for her to enter and touched a light switch.
“Very nice,” she said, glancing around the large foyer and into the living room to the right—polished wooden floors, dual staircase, and elegant and expensive furniture.
“Come on back to the kitchen,” Ian said.
“This kitchen is amazing. I’d love to have one this size for all the baking I do.”
He chuckled. “Do you want to bake the cookies now or later?”
“Now is fine. Can you preheat the oven to three hundred and fifty degrees?”
He placed the bags on the kitchen table, set the oven, and got plates and silverware. “Would you like a glass of wine?” Ian pulled out a small cookie sheet and handed it to her.
“Sure.” She arranged the cookies on the sheet and slid the tray into the oven.
He retrieved and opened a bottle of pinot grigio from a small wine cellar containing half a dozen bottles, seated her at the table and took the chair across from her.
They ate in silence for a few minutes and then Maya asked, “What made you go into architecture? I remember you telling me you loved to draw, but was there something else?”
“When I was eight, one of my neighbors’ houses burned down.
I was fascinated with the rebuild. Every day, when I came home from school, I would get as close as I could and watch.
I wondered how they knew where to place each piece of wood, how they knew which room was which and the sizes.
..everything.” He smiled as if remembering.
“The architect happened to be there one of those afternoons and he, surprisingly and patiently, answered the million and one questions I had, showed me blueprints. Even gave me his card.”
“That is so cool.”
“Yeah. After that, I was always in my room working on some great masterpiece. Told my parents I was going to design the biggest building in Los Angeles.”
Maya laughed. “And have you?”
“Not yet, but I’m working on it.”
The timer on the oven went off and Maya removed the cookies, put them on a plate to cool and came back to the table to finish her dinner.
“Do you want something else?” Ian asked when they were done.
“No, thank you. This was some of the best seafood Alfredo I’ve ever had.”
He stood, topped off their glasses of wine and picked up the plate of cookies. “Let’s take this into the family room.”
She followed him and settled onto the buttery-soft black leather sofa. She surveyed the room. Two matching recliners flanked the sofa and a large flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall above the fireplace in front of them. A bar with three stools occupied the other side of the room.
“I was trying to let my food digest before trying one of the cookies, but I can’t wait,” Ian said, reaching for one. He bit into it and groaned. “This is so good. I could eat all of these in one sitting.”
She smiled, secretly thrilled about his praise for her desserts. She laughed as he devoured four of the twelve she had baked in a matter of minutes.
“Okay. I need to stop.” He picked up a remote and pressed a button, and music floated through the room. “Come dance with me.” He stood and pulled Maya to her feet.
She recognized the distinctive sound of Kem’s voice immediately. She wrapped her arms around Ian’s neck and leaned her head against his shoulder. They swayed slowly as Kem sang “Human Touch.”
“I know you told me last weekend how many hours a day you spend baking, but how do you come up with your recipes?”
“Some of them are family recipes. Others are twists on familiar recipes or me just mixing ingredients together and experimenting.”
“Obviously, you’re doing something right. I haven’t tasted one bad thing.”
“Thank you.” Ian was the first man she had dated who seemed genuinely interested in her career. He was making it hard to keep her guard up. Relaxing and dancing with him in this intimate environment didn’t help, either.
“I don’t think I ever asked and it wasn’t on the card the chef gave me, but do you have a name for your business?”
“You haven’t and yes I do... Maya’s Sweet Spot.”
Ian stopped dancing. “It’s a perfect name.”
She lifted her head and met his eyes.
“I can think of several sweet spots on your body, starting here,” he murmured, nibbling on her neck.
Her breath caught.
“And here.”
The feel of his warm mouth skating across her chest woke every nerve in her body and she moaned softly. Maya knew she should slow things down, say something...anything. She needed to keep her barriers.
“Oh, and I can’t forget about here,” he said, slanting his mouth over hers in a passionate and intoxicating kiss. Caressing her face, he said, “In fact, I’d like to reacquaint myself with every sweet spot on your body. And search out a few more.”
The desire burning in his eyes and seductive proposal tempted her beyond reason. He swept her into his arms and reclaimed her mouth. Each stroke of his tongue weakened her resolve until she could do nothing except yield to the pleasure. Her body wanted this. She only hoped her heart didn’t follow.