Tell Me What You Crave Page 11

  “You’re a princess with style.” Grace gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  Pax went into a drawn out depiction of the sand castles they built at the beach, using wide gestures with his hands, and barely able to keep his excitement in check. He bounced from one subject to the next, to the boat ride, going fishing, even his first helicopter ride.

  “Daddy’s new job is fun! I want to move to the beach!”

  “I’m sure you do.” She walked him over to the jungle gym and let him climb up the spider web rope to the top. “What about you, Daisy? What did you like most about the beach?”

  She shrugged. “I liked the fish. Like Flounder from the mermaid movie. Are you coming to my party?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for anything, munchkin.”

  “Daddy bought me a new dress. All the way from Falicornia.”

  Grace giggled. “California. What color is it?”

  “Pink, of course! Are you going to bring Prince Eric with you?”

  She stumbled on the grass, and stared at Ruben. He and Julie were talking with the babysitter, and he didn’t look happy. “Who is Prince Eric, sweetheart?”

  “That muscle man you kissed. He looks like Ariel’s boyfriend.”

  The breeze stopped, and her face flushed with heat. “Daisy, where did you see me kissing a Prince Eric?”

  “On Mommy’s computer. You should bring him. A real, live prince at my party!” The girl climbed up the jungle gym and headed for the slide. She cheered all the way down.

  All Grace could do was stare at the pair of children playing in front of her.

  “Approved.”

  She jumped, and turned.

  Julie crossed her arms against the hefty breeze.

  “What is?”

  “Dorian.”

  Grace sighed, and answered Daisy. “You mean Prince Eric.”

  Her friend made a hissing noise and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I was curious what Ruben was talking about with his publicist, so I looked it up online. Daisy happened to be walking by.”

  “It’s all right. Just caught me off guard.”

  Actually, at the right angle, he does look like Prince Eric.

  She smiled.

  “He really seems to like you.”

  The breeze blew again, and Grace was thankful it cooled some of the warmth from her face. “You think so?”

  “The way he doted on you. I’ve never seen you so happy.”

  Her heart swelled. The past three nights of passion flashed in her memory. She’d never felt more alive. “Thanks. Your daughter insists I bring the prince to her birthday party on Sunday. Are you guys okay with that?”

  Julie’s smile widened. Almost mischievous. “Sounds perfect.”

  Grace caught it. “What’s going on?”

  She snickered. “Ruben got testy with him at the hospital. My husband deserves a taste of his own medicine. So, please, bring Prince Dorian.”

  “Testy? What’re you talking about?”

  “Just two boys being protective, flaunting their peacock feathers.”

  “I don’t want a scene at her birthday party. The last thing those kids need are more drama.”

  Julie waved the words away. “From the sound of it, Dorian can more than hold his own. Will serve Ruben good, from being around all those pushy, Hollywood folks. They are starting to rub off on him.”

  “Is everything okay? Between the two of you?”

  Her old friend sighed. “Once again, you’re worrying about others.” She gave Grace a sideways hug. “Ruben and I are just fine.”

  “Of course, we are.” The man himself strolled up, and wrapped his arms around both of them. “In fact, I have some fantastic news.”

  “Oh?” Julie asked.

  “Nigel just called. The network wants to help set up another fundraiser for the transplant charity. With the full backing of the show. This could bring in millions.”

  Grace gasped. “Seriously?” She looked at Pax. So many more children could benefit from this chance. The backing of Hollywood.

  Julie’s eyes narrowed. “Why now? What about all their concerns with security?”

  Ruben eyed his wife “They’ll handle the security. I was very clear on that stipulation.”

  “What security concerns?” Grace asked.

  Her friend rolled his eyes. “Some paparazzi are getting a little too ambitious, that’s all. Downey is all over it.”

  She glanced at Julie, who didn’t seem as casual in her concern as her husband. “Define ambitious.”

  Julie scowled. “Some photographers were caught waiting outside the kids’ school while we were away.”

  “It’s an unfortunate side effect of this business,” Ruben defended. “But the network is paying for bodyguards, and their attorneys are handling the hacking of the cloud account. They want our kids to be as safe as we do.”

  Grace rubbed her forehead.

  Julie shook her head. “So, they are setting up a fundraiser for the charity we are so attached to, why? As an apology, or a distraction?”

  “Jules, that’s not—”

  “No, it’s for more publicity.” She shook her head. Downey was more interested in the network, not his client. “They want to keep your show at number one. No better way than to exploit the host’s special needs son. Drum up the ratings through the sympathy vote.” Grace stepped out of his hold, and checked her phone. For once, she actually wished Dorian were around. He seemed to have a knack at understanding things like this.

  “Nigel said the money this could draw in for the charity is huge.” Ruben stared. “Are you really saying no?”

  “I don’t care what motivations they have for doing this. It’s always in their own self-interests, anyway. You want me to accept their charity, fine. Just so long as the kids are safe, and you don’t turn into them.”

  “What do you mean, turn into them? For once, my job can really make a difference for these kids.”

  Pax and Daisy turned at their father’s voice.

  He looked over at them and smiled. “It’s all right. You kids are doing great.” After a reassuring wave, they returned to playing.

  “Unlike you, Ruben, I’m not willing to sacrifice my privacy for a dollar,” Grace spoke softer so the children wouldn’t overhear, but all of this grated on her nerves. “If you really want to make a difference for these kids, be there for them. Go play on the monkey bars, and push your daughter on the swings. Don’t sell their story to the highest bidder, and call it charity. Because you’re only letting in the wolves.”

  Dorian

  The beer turned bitter in Dorian’s throat sitting across from Duane at the bar three blocks from the hospital. His boss had known where he was, and had called him out in the middle of his time off.

  For some reason, he’d invited along Dorian’s friend and fellow Knight, Vaughn. Just as scruffy as Dorian, but the red tinge to his hair and goatee made him appear a touch younger, though they were the same age.

  They’d been friends since their previous job, working as entertainment coordinators on a cruise ship, and had joined the agency together at the same time.

  By the hungry look in Duane’s eyes, he wasn’t here for a reaping.

  He had an idea.

  Which made him squirm more.

  Because Dorian wanted a third person to be a witness, if things got ugly. Which with Duane’s reputation, wasn’t unheard of.

  “This has become one large cluster-fuck, Dorian,” the Brit began.

  “I told you I’d handle it.”

  “Something good may have come out of all this.”

  Something good already has. Grace.

  “I’ll admit, all the photos of you and this babs at the restaurant, and the speculation of you as her boyfriend caused me more than a little anxiety this week. Rule number one; discretion. Keep a low media profile for our clients who expect confidentiality. You blew that out of the water, and my phone has exploded with some of your former cliental.”

  He
took a deep breath, and sipped his beer. Only the cold tasted good, not the actual flavor.

  “But I trust you. Now, I know what you had in mind.”

  Dorian frowned, and glanced at Vaughn. Who only returned it with a cautious stare. Dorian blinked at his boss. “What’re you talking about?”

  “I saw you on live news, at this little charity unveiling, all dapper in your suit. Sidling up to the likes of Ruben Wilde and all those producers.”

  His stomach churned. Wherever his boss was going with this, he didn’t like the direction.

  “With all this attention, it’s only a matter of time before someone discovers you’re a Knight. For Miss Sexy-Kitten-Heels, that’ll blow up in your face. But I want to be geared up for when that happens.” Duane’s smile turned smug, and he took another sip of sparkling water.

  Dorian scowled. Who comes to a bar and drinks sparkling water? “Geared up?”

  He rested his elbows on the table. “The truckload of new business for just having the title mentioned, for one thing. But more importantly, new market structure.”

  What is he getting at?

  “With the right producer, we could pitch our own reality television series. Take Knights of Texas nationwide.”

  The beer threatened to crawl up his throat.

  Even Vaughn’s eyes widened. “You can’t be serious?”

  “That’s why Dorian started dating this tweety bird, right? You found out she was attached to that Ruben Wilde fellow.”

  Dorian groaned and ground his teeth.

  “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “You’re wrong,” he spat.

  “Isn’t there already a cable television show like that?” Vaughn chimed in. “Networks might find that a little repetitive. Not to mention how do we keep it from becoming a circus act?”

  “Well, that’s all I can figure.” Duane shoved his glass away. “Otherwise, I can’t make any sense of what he’s doing.” He motioned for the waiter and ordered a Guinness. “With all of the photos of you with this woman, standing next to Ruben Wilde, you’re too high profile, now. There’s no way I can get all those shots scrubbed. Your role as a Knight is compromised. Which pisses me off enough as my top man, but now you’re compromising my entire business model. Even Vaughn lost a client this morning because of the additional exposure.” He’d lost all humor in his voice, and turned more vicious with each line.

  Dorian looked at Vaughn, who only hid a grimace behind a swig of his beer.

  “Duane, I know you’re a naturally optimistic guy and try to spin things in your favor, but can you tone down the DEFCON-One speech here.”

  The Brit swore under his breath, and scraped his hand across his neck.

  “My situation with this woman has nothing to do with your business model. There’s nothing to be gained from this connection. End that line of thinking right now.”

  Duane’s hand dropped, thunking on the table. His jaw dropped. “I don’t believe it.”

  “What?”

  “Of all my Knights, I never expected you to fall for a client.”

  “She’s not a client.”

  “You fell for a woman, Dorian,” he barked. “The kiss of death in this business.”

  Several patrons around them turned to face them, eyeing their exchange. Dorian shook his head, and clenched his jaw.

  Yes, I fell for Grace. A while ago.

  “There’s no handling this image problem. You’re finished.” His would-be former boss called the waiter over for the check.

  “Duane, let me see this through. Hold on to your panties for a few more days.”

  “Are you telling me you haven’t fallen for her?”

  Dorian paused, and stared at his beer bottle. “I’m saying, there’s too much up in the air. Chill out, and see where the juggling pins land.”

  “You mean, sit back and wait for you to figure out if she’s fallen for you, too, while my business goes down the loo. No, thanks.” He signed the check. “You think this is my first go ‘round? Another damn savior.” He shook his head, and spit on the floor. “Rescuing a Knight from the life. I should’ve known.”

  “You really are a joy kill.” Dorian stepped off the stool, and left his half-empty beer on the table.

  “Give me a call when she finally wakes up,” Duane shouted after him.

  He shoved through the front doors, welcoming the burst of hot air outside. At least it wasn’t full of the bitter stench the hot air his boss was blowing at him.

  “D, hang on a minute.” Vaughn shoved through the doors behind him, the concern in his eyes countering the viciousness of Duane’s from inside.

  “I’m sorry about your client,” Dorian replied. “But did you know about all that in there? His ridiculous idea?”

  The guy sighed. “I knew he had some new business idea, but a reality television show? Hell no.”

  “Are you going to join in on that with him?”

  He scowled. “Don’t put me in the middle. He just wanted an extra sounding board.”

  Dorian snorted. “You mean he wanted a buffer, for when I defended myself. Or more accurately, when he loses his shit.”

  “He has a point though.”

  He smarted and stared at his friend.

  “You’ve fallen for this woman. I can tell.”

  Dorian chewed on his tongue. “Everyone is entitled to a personal life. Even us.”

  “We’ve come a long way since that cruise ship. I’ve seen you at your worst. Unlike Duane, I think it’s great. As long as you’re honest with her. Just be sure, before you throw this opportunity away.”

  He glanced across the street, where an excavator cleared dirt across an empty lot. A large sign stood at the front, with Coming Soon written across the top, with a small child, wearing an oxygen tube and a bald head smiled at him for the pediatric wing of some hospital.

  “I saw the lives news, too,” Vaughn continued. “Seems like a really good charity. If you can stomach that kind of thing.”

  “Making jokes about that, now? That was seasickness, not life or death.” Dorian snapped.

  “That wasn’t a stab. I’m serious. You said it yourself, life or death. That’s not easy to be around.” His buddy shoved his hands in his pockets. “Put everything else aside for two seconds…the money, the job, Duane. Ask yourself, are you sure?”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Dorian

  Dorian stared at Grace from the restaurant lobby. She’d been seated toward the other side, and sipped on a glass of wine. Waiting for him.

  He could almost smell her lilac bodywash from here, remembering the exotic scent from her shower. Or maybe it was the bouquet of lilacs and roses in his hand he’d bought. Which is why he was late.

  He didn’t want to approach her yet. Just wanted to watch her—marvel in her radiance from across the crowded, yet intimate space.

  Call me when she finally wakes up, Duane had told him. Then Vaughn’s warning, are you sure?

  The question had set him on edge the rest of the day. Because what if she did wake up? What if he wasn’t sure?

  Would this be the moment? An ending relationship had never scared him before. He’d just move on to the next adventure. Life was too short to stress over them. This time, the idea of Grace walking away stopped his lungs from working. What a twist of irony that’d be, to be kicked to the curb as he was going to lay everything on the line.

  The way her lips closed over the rim of that glass made his mouth water. The way her lashes fluttered at the crisp taste going down her throat made his tongue swell. The way she crossed those smooth legs, revealing a touch of her thigh under her form-fitting, Merlot dress, made his appetite soar, desperate to be sated.

  Grace looked up, and her gaze found his from across the room. The subtle lift of her chest matched his, and her smile practically flattened him right there on the marble floor.

  He damn-near floated across the room to her, heedless of everyone else in the restaurant. The brilliance in her eyes danced wit
h his subconscious, teasing his imagination. Like a lovesick puppy desperate to please, he pulled out the bouquet from behind him, and grinned.

  Her smile widened, and her cheeks pinked. “Done this a few times, have you?”

  Dorian shook his head. “That’s out of professional bounds. Flowers are personal.” He brushed a soft kiss on her cheek. “Very personal,” his whispered into her ear.

  “I thought kissing was the personal part.”

  With that invite, he couldn’t help himself. He moved to her lips and indulged himself. The soft, supple wine lingered in her mouth with a subtle aftertaste, leaving him wanting more. Much more.

  Someone chuckled behind them, and Dorian pulled away.

  Grace’s pink cheeks turned to a dusty rose, and there wasn’t a hint of timidity in her gaze. She wanted the same thing as him.

  “That’s how you greet a woman.” She licked her lips.

  He cozied up next to her and unbuttoned his suit jacket. He felt so comfortable, so intimate in a way he’d never experienced with another woman, despite the thousands of dates he’d been on.

  Nothing compared to Grace.

  Until she wakes up.

  He swallowed the bitter thought.

  “You’ve been invited to the social event of the season.” Grace smirked.

  His heart kicked up a bit, but he kept his expression neutral. “Black tie formal?”

  “Royal sash.”

  He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading.

  “Daisy’s birthday party. Princess theme. She called you Prince Eric, after the Little Mermaid.”

  Dorian chuckled, and a warmth spread through his chest. Compared to a prince. “How does she know me?”

  Her smile slipped. “She saw some of the photos of us when Julie was trolling the tabloids. Now, she insists you have to attend.”

  “Ah.” He poured himself a glass of wine from the bottle on the table. “So, you’re inviting me only because Daisy wants me there?” Dorian winked

  “Insecure already? It’s only been the first week.” Grace swirled the wine in her glass, and sipped. “How will our relationship last if you’re self-conscious about my motivation with a little girl’s party?” Her playful stare filled him with the greatest warmth, one he needed most.