First Class Seduction. Anita Bunkley

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СКАЧАТЬ In a spectacular house on the bay.”

      “Then you’re…I guess…you’re Mexican?”

      Ramón chuckled at Lori’s hesitation to probe deeper into his ethnicity. His bronze skin, dark wavy hair and lack of an accent often left people confused about where he was from. While growing up in Houston, classmates and teachers had called him everything from mixed-race black, to Italian and even Middle Eastern, and he had learned over the years not to take offense, but to speak with pride about his Mexican-American heritage.

      “Born and raised in Texas. My parents emigrated to the United States from Mexico and became naturalized citizens before I was born. My mom passed away a few years back, but my dad still lives in Houston. Only a few miles from me.”

      “You said something about keeping people safe. Are you a policeman?” Lori asked.

      “No, I own a security company. Alarms, burglar systems, that kind of stuff. It’s called Vida-Shield Security. My partner and I specialize in state-of-the-art systems for residences, businesses and government agencies.”

      “So…if I ever needed protection, you’d be the one to call?” Lori joked.

      “Absolutely. Here’s my card. As it says right there…We’re experts at keeping strangers out of your home.”

      “That’s funny,” Lori tossed back, chuckling softly as she scanned his business card and read from it, “Let the experts keep strangers out of your home.” Again, a low laugh escaped her throat.

      Her humorous response took Ramón by surprise, and he watched her closely as he asked, “What’s so funny about alarm systems, burglar bars and passcodes to stop criminals in their tracks?”

      “Oh, it’s not that. It’s just that Globus-Americas’ motto is, “‘We’re experts at making strangers feel at home.’”

      Ramón fingered his earring, smiling. I’d sure like to let her make me feel at home, he thought, determined to make headway while he had the chance because once they landed, they would go their separate ways and maybe never see each other again. He had to make an impression that would last beyond the moment the plane hit the ground. “Well, I can certainly testify that you do your job well,” he replied. “And I hope we won’t be strangers very long.”

      Lori gave him a look that sent a ripple of anticipation through Ramón when she tossed her head back and tucked his card into the skirt pocket of her uniform. “Never know when I might need a safety check,” she teased, breaking the sexual tension that was connecting them like an invisible length of wire.

      Ramón stepped closer to Lori, filling the tiny galley with his frame and blocking her from leaving. Attracting women had never been a problem for Ramón, but he was very choosy about the ones he dated. He didn’t go out a lot, but when he did, he made sure he spent time with women who intrigued, attracted and impressed him. Lori did all three, in a big way, and getting to know her was going to be a pleasure. He placed two fingers on the side of Lori’s neck, bent down and brushed his lips over hers. “I can’t think of anything I’d enjoy more than keeping a woman like you safe from harm.”

      Chapter Five

      Twin rock waterfalls on either side of the entry to Brightwood Estates welcomed Lori home. As she drove up the cedar-lined road that wound its way toward her house, she admired the meticulous landscaping of her subdivision. Passing blooming oleanders, vibrant crepe myrtles and colorful hibiscus as large as dinner plates, she congratulated herself once again on buying her house when she did, because real estate prices had soared in the past four years. Five minutes from Bush Intercontinental Airport, her neighborhood was convenient, quiet and strategically located near one of north Houston’s largest shopping malls.

      Lori swung into the driveway of her two-story, Tuscan-style home and beeped her horn at Brittany Adams, her next-door neighbor, who was outside clipping roses from the bright pink bushes blossoming in front of her mini-French chateau.

      Brittany had become Lori’s friend as soon as the two women met and discovered that they were sorority sisters. Brittany was a former teenage TV celebrity who had starred in a black family sitcom similar to the Cosby show. Cast as a sassy, smart, but devious teenager, she had helped push the sitcom to number one in the ratings with her crazy antics, near-potty-mouth one-liners, and troublemaking schemes. However, the show ran its course, and was canceled, throwing sixteen-year-old Brittany into a tailspin that left her confused, drug-addicted and broke. A six-month stint in rehab ended her dependence on prescription painkillers. After winning a nasty lawsuit against her stepfather/ manager, she left Hollywood for Houston with a hefty bank account, determined to live a “normal” life.

      Now, at thirty, Brittany was no longer the gawky teenager with braces and corkscrew curls who had exploded on the small screen with an angelic brown face and a tongue as tart as acid. Leaving Hollywood, she had gone to great lengths to transform her looks so that no one would ever recognize her as the child star gone wild, and she loved the anonymity that came with her new life. Now she was a stylishly slim, mature young woman who sported a chic short hairstyle, designer jeans and beaded T-shirts, even to do her gardening. She lived very well off her syndication royalties, shopped at high-end stores, drove a silver Jag and insisted that her California rat-race lifestyle was behind her, even though she was writing the pilot for a show about a female detective—a series in which she hoped to star.

      “Hey, how’s it going, Brit?” Lori called over after lowering her window. “Your roses are beautiful, as always. My mother would be so envious. Her roses aren’t doing that well this year.”

      Brittany clipped one more bud, waved it at Lori, and then approached her car. “Tell her to hang in there. Dallas is gonna get its share of rain this week.” She cocked her head at Lori in a questioning pose. “So you’re back already?” Brittany remarked while pulling off her gardening gloves to examine her fancy manicure for chips. Today, her ever-changing nail design was an intricate, multihued Indian pattern in various shades of blue.

      “It was a short run. No stop in Mexico City this time. Came straight through from Acapulco.”

      “How’d it go?” Brittany asked, now focusing on her neighbor instead of her nails.

      “Really kinda strange.”

      “Strange? How?” Brittany asked.

      “Well, there was this guy on the plane…I danced with him at a club in Acapulco the night before and this morning, there he was…on my flight! And he started coming on to me like crazy.”

      “You call that strange?” Brittany quipped. “Please. Call it good luck…that is if he’s got it goin’ on.”

      Lori grinned. “He had it goin’ on all right.”

      “Good. So what happened? You gonna see him?”

      “I dunno. I’ve gotta think this one through. I can’t jump in too fast and have another situation, you know?”

      “Uh-hmm,” Brittany murmured in agreement. “After Devan…I do understand.”

      “Anyway, we left it at a handshake at the airport, but I do have his card,” Lori replied, not quite ready to share her true feelings about her encounter with Ramón. Besides, she wasn’t sure how she felt about him. She only knew that his kiss had shaken her up and awakened feelings she wanted to explore. СКАЧАТЬ