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Authors: Anastacia Kelley

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BOOK: Whetted Appetites
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     Even with the sexual detour.  She sighed as her body trembled with remembrance.

     She almost had everything ready for the Bloomberg’s party.

     She could rest tomorrow, since she decided to close for Sunday and on Monday, she and Melissa would finish the remaining baking during the slow period of business.  Monday was usually the slowest day anyway.

     She ached for Friday to get here.  True, the excitement was in the anticipation of what was to come but damn….

     What Dalton did today just whetted her appetite for more.  So much more.

     She groaned.

     And damned if she wasn’t starving.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

     “Victoria is seeing someone.  I just know it,” Mrs. Bradley seethed over the phone.

     “What do you want me to do about it, ma’am?” the man asked.

     “Follow her.  See who she’s hanging around with,” she demanded.  “I’m only looking out for her best interests.  If she is dating some unknown man, I want you to find out about him.  His job, accounts, background.  Everything.”

     The man wrote down his instructions.  “Give me about a week.  I’ll find out what you want to know,” he assured her.

     “Very well,” Mrs. Bradley stated, and then hung up.

     She paced around her luxurious library, thinking.  Wondering.  Brewing at the fact that Victoria had been keeping something from her.  She felt it.

     Victoria was hiding something.  She’s never turned down dates with any one she had picked out before.  There was some mysterious man interfering in her plans.  And she didn’t like it.  The mere thought of it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

     She planned on finding out what was going on.

 

     “Freakin’ crap!!” Victoria yelled in her living room.  She felt like punching a hole through the wall.  “Of all the under-handed, slimy things.” 

     Victoria punched the replay button on her answering machine once more instead of bruising her fist.  She had to make sure she wasn’t hearing things.

     “Hello, Victoria, darling.  This is Travis Duncan.  I received a call from Mrs. Bradley yesterday.  She said you were thrilled to get together with me.  I’m thrilled as well.  I haven’t seen you since we were kids.  Your mother said you were extremely busy but you gave the go-ahead to pick you up at ten tomorrow morning.  I hope brunch at the ‘Palisades’ is to your liking.  Your mother said you really enjoy fancy brunches and dinners at either country clubs or only the best restaurants.  I can understand that.  I am partial to those as well. 

     “I’ll pick you up around nine.  See you then, Victoria.  Good-bye.”

     Muttering a string of curses, Victoria deleted the misguided message.

     “Ooohhh, I could just…..” Victoria ground her teeth until her jaws ached.

     Her mother had set up this whole stupid blind date without her permission.  Knowing her mother, it was for her own good.

     How could she?

     How
dare
she?!

     She was so sick and tired of her mother trying to puller her strings.  She wasn’t a damn marionette, for crying out loud!

     Money wasn’t everything.  Didn’t her mother comprehend that by now?

     Victoria looked up to the ceiling, hoping to find the answers written somewhere up there.

     What was that adage?  Money talks and BS walks? 

     Victoria blew out a pent up breath, shook her head and sat down.

     She sure as heck was into giving BS but she was going to walk out of this warped situation her mother put her in.  Money may talk but Victoria was tired of listening.  She didn’t like people who tried to screw with her mind.  She didn’t play these asinine games.

     She combed her fingers through her hair and reached for the phone with the other.

     After learning that her mother was unavailable—or just plain avoiding to talk to her—she slammed the receiver down so hard, she feared she had broken it.  She picked it up and blew out a breath of relief when she heard the dial tone.

     Now, she was going to have to call Travis and fix the mess her delusional mother had gotten her into.  If she wasn’t her mother, she’d----

     She quickly abandoned the thought.  There was no one here to be on the opposing side of her onslaught.  Besides, she couldn’t choose her parents.  Sometimes, she was sorely tempted to imagine otherwise.

     Victoria pushed the ‘calls’ button on her ID and re-dialed Travis’s home number.  Four rings later, the answering machine clicked on.

     “Hello.  You have reached Travis Duncan.  I am unavailable to take your call at this time.  Please leave your name, a number in which to reach you and a message and I will get back to you.  Ciao.” 
Beep.

     Is no one home?
  Victoria hung up and stared at it unbelievably.  “’Ciao’?”  She scoffed.  “Oh, please.”  She rolled her eyes.  Why must most rich men use that as a parting?  Why couldn’t they get with it?  Say something like, “Later” or just plain, old, useful ‘good-bye’?

     Victoria put her hand on her forehead.  What was she going to do?  She had to get in touch with Travis before tomorrow morning.  Bitching and moaning wasn’t going to work and it wasn’t her style.  No matter how good it would feel.

    
When in doubt,
she thought,
take a bubble bath. 
Maybe that would clear her head.

     She was going to take a long soak in a chamomile-laced bubble bath while she sipped her honey-lemon tea.  She’d light a few lavender scented candles, dim the lights and put on some relaxing music.  That would make her feel so much better. 

     Spirits alleviated for the time being, she headed for her bathroom.

 

     “Come on, man.  Don’t leave me hanging,” Max pleaded over the phone.

     “There’s nothing to tell, Max,” Dalton explained for the third time since he answered the phone, which was five minutes ago.  “I just dropped by to help her out because she was on a deadline.”

     Max snorted then snickered.  “Did you melt her butter?”

     Dalton groaned.  “Max.  You just
had
to ask that question.  You only said that because she’s a caterer and dessert connoisseur.”

     “That good, was she?”

     Dalton smiled when he brought up the image of himself taking her with his mouth on her desk.  “Yes.  Very.”

     “Maybe I should drop by there on day and try some of her sweets,” Max goaded.

     Dalton knew Max was trying to bait him.  He didn’t bite this time.

     “Sure,” Dalton agreed lightly.  “She’s got the best truffles I’ve ever tasted.”

     “So that’s what they’re calling it these days,” Max remarked jokingly.

     “Is your mind always in the gutter?” Dalton asked good-naturedly.

     Max pretended to be offended.  “No.  It most certainly is not.  I resent that remark, you know?  Ninety-eight percent of the time it is.  So take back what you said.  It’s not
always
in the gutter.”

     Dalton chuckled.  “I stand corrected.”  He heard a muffled voice in the background.  Katie.

     “Coming, sweet cheeks,” Max called out to his wife.  “Dalton, my woman’s calling me.  I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

     “Later, Max.”

     He couldn’t prevent himself from being a little envious of Max, who was married to the same woman for fifteen years now.  She was his high school sweetheart.  She had evidently blown him away because, after all this time, he still felt that passion.  As if they were newlyweds.

     Dalton wondered if he’d ever have that.  He was almost thirty-five and still single.  Would he find a woman that could turn him inside out?  Make him go weak in the knees and aroused with a look?  Even after twenty or thirty years of marriage, could she still light his fire?

     Victoria’s beautiful face flashed in his mind.  Her smile.  Her lips.  Her body.

     She did all of those things to him.  But who’s to say it will last?  They haven’t known each other that long.

     Yeah, it was eternally torrid in the beginning.  Where you can’t keep your hands off one another.  But that lustful infatuation died down, eventually.  And if you didn’t connect on a much deeper level, where did it leave you?  Back at square one.  That was always the hardest part.  Starting over.

     Being around Victoria, he’d say that wasn’t the only thing that was on hard the majority of the time.

     Dalton grunted.  Now
his
mind was in the gutter.  He’s been around Max for too long.  He guessed Max’s dirty mind was bound to rub off one of these days.  It couldn’t hurt that it was rubbing off at just the right time.

 

     Victoria sighed deeply as Dalton covered her naked body with his hard body.  He began to work his moist tongue over the crest of her ear, on down to the erratic pulse of her neck.  He moved his mouth to her nipples.  And as he pressed his tongue to it, it made the uncanny sound of a doorbell.

     Wait a minute.  That wasn’t supposed to happen.  So Dalton tried again. 
Ding-dong.
  It did that repeatedly until the shrill ringing roused her from a peaceful slumber.

     Victoria wiped her eyes.  Her nipples weren’t making music.  Her damn front doorbell was ringing.  Whoever it was on the other side sounded pretty impatient.

     She glanced at her clock.  Eighty-fifty!  It was Sunday for pity’s sake!  It was her only day off and she liked to sleep in.

     “Geez.  Can’t a person have a rest day?”  She grumbled testily as she reached for her robe, remnants of the dream lingering in her mind.

     By the time she got to the door, she was just ticked off enough to tell the person where they could put that doorbell.

     She yanked the door open.  “Go to------“

     “The Palisades?” finished Travis.  “Although, I don’t think your attire is suitable,” he remarked disdainfully as he studied her in a black terry cloth robe.

     Victoria was about to tell him where he could stuff that remark when he breezed by—uninvited—into her living room.

     Of all the nerve!
  Victoria fumed.  Just how in the world was she supposed to answer the door?  In her birthday suit?

     The notion did have merit.  That is, if Dalton was the one ringing her bell.  She mentally filed the thought away for later use.

     “If you hurry, we can still make it by ten,” Travis suggested as he made himself at home on her sage colored sofa.

     Victoria shut the front door and tried to tell him as calmly as she could about the misunderstanding.

     “Look, Travis,” she started, walking to the couch opposite him.  “I don’t know exactly what my mother told you, but there’s been some sort of misconception here.  I think----“

     Travis wrinkled her brows.  “What misconception?”  He frowned so hard that it was all Victoria could do not to laugh.  He didn’t look deep in thought.  He just looked constipated to her. 

     Victoria swallowed her laughter, almost chocking on it.  “I did not give the go-ahead on this date.”  She didn’t want to make her mother look bad, but she didn’t want Travis to think
she
was a liar or backing out at the last minute.  “I told my mother earlier that I didn’t feel like going out with anyone.  I didn’t give her permission to set me up.  She blatantly ignored my request.”  She smiled sympathetically.  “I’m sure----“

     “I will
not
be mocked, Victoria,” Travis hissed.

     “What?”  Victoria wasn’t mocking him at all.  What was his problem?

     “Travis, listen,” Victoria tried again.  “I’m sure you’ll find someone else you can take to brunch.”

     That only seemed to anger him more.  He stood up sharply.  “Don’t try to placate me.  I know your kind,” he sneered maliciously.

     Victoria stood up.  She had a feeling that it would be better if she did.  She didn’t want to give him even the smallest satisfaction of looking down on her.

     “My kind?”  Victoria’s tone went up a few decibels.  “I’m a human being, Travis.  And what business is it of yours on what kind of person I am?  Huh?”  She folded her arms across her chest defensively and stared at him, her gaze never wavering.  “I think you’d better leave.  Now!”

     “Oh, no.  We’re going out.  I’ve made plans for us and you’re sure as hell not going to ruin them.”

BOOK: Whetted Appetites
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