Amuse Bouche (3 page)

“She works at Bianca. In the Delano.”

Wow! I absolutely love it! This is too good to be true. “I heard they’d hired a new chef to spruce the place up a bit. Looks like they chose well.”

“Yeah, she’s damn good.” Tasha giggled again.

“And you? What is it you do?”

“Me? A bunch of random shit thrown together.”

“Oh, come on now.”

“Hello, Dr. Ivan. Great to see you.”

Both our heads turned toward the interruption.

“Barbara, how nice to see you!” I responded, thankful to have remembered her name.

“I don’t want to interrupt your date, but just wanted to say hi.”

Smiling, I semi-waved and turned my attention back to Tasha. “Apparently we’re dating.”

She ignored my joke and returned to business. “Doctor, eh?”

Clicking my tongue against my bottom lip, I chuckled. “Yes, I guess I spent enough time and money earning the title. I might as well go with that one.”

“Interesting...”

“Okay, so back to your friend, who is single, from Miami Beach, and a chef…”

“Yeeeeess…”

“Any idea where she went?”

I scanned the perimeter of the dance floor as Tasha did the same. I didn’t catch a glimpse of
her
but I
did
see a rather determined surfer making his way back, separating our bodies with his eyes.
Fair enough. No need to be a cock blocker.
I wanted to find the chef.

“I don’t know. Maybe you should go find her,” Tasha said with a visual treasure map glance and nod of her head to the left.

Without hesitation, I dropped my hands from her body. “Thank you so much for the intel. Again, I’m so sorry for separating you from such a fine gentleman.” I nudged my chin in the direction of the surfer, who was now within earshot and moving fast to reclaim his dance partner. I kissed her hand and nodded at the surfer as he resumed his place. I’d just turned away from them when a light bulb lit up in my head.

What the fuck is her name, you idiot.
Turning on a dime I called back rather boisterously. “What’s her name?” I seemed to have startled everyone within a 10-yard radius of myself.

Tasha mouthed a name that, in my drunken state, I just couldn’t decipher. I could feel all the eyes in the surrounding crowd of paused couples looking at me to make sure I understood her, but I just gawked back with what I’m sure was a totally dumbfounded look on my face.

As the crowd looked back at Tasha, she tried once more at a moderate decibel level, which I still couldn’t hear or understand over the music and party chatter. The crowd looked again in my direction, only see me shake my head. Once again they turned back to her.

Perhaps a touch annoyed, but clearly amused she finally yelled,
“Jaden Thorne!”

Jaden Thorne. The name alone nearly got me hard.

I gave her a thumbs up to confirm and received a cheer from the crowd as I set off to chase a destiny I hoped was soon to be reality.

A few minutes later, with eyes peeled, I snuck past the coat check area and perused the line of women waiting for the bathroom. No. No. Hello, but no.
Maybe she’s inside.
I stalled my surveillance near the ladies’ room by playing my phone. I sent very important texts to some far off imaginary recipient as I waited, hoping I’d find her. Each time the door swung open, my heart made its way closer to my throat, only to fall back at an expedited rate when a blue hair shuffled out of the restroom and back toward a party that seemed to be picking up. I paused to note the song being played. “Strangers in the Night.” How fitting. Back to the search, though.

I stalked through the mansion and couldn’t help but be impressed with the décor, but I was annoyed with its maze of hallways and corridors that had apparently been constructed to confuse guests. Especially those who had consumed a bit too much alcohol. Frescoes decorated the ceilings and marble covered the floor as I came upon a grand spiral staircase at the corridor’s end. Artwork that probably cost more than my medical school education hung on the walls, making the house seem more like a museum than a residence.

Well, she wasn’t in the ladies’ room, not at the coat check, and not in the living room, where I’m pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to be either. If I were a beautiful woman in high heels with alcohol in my system where would I… Gotcha.

My eyes fell on a glass-paneled door that seemed to lead to a garden. As I mentally retraced my path in searching for her, I concluded that this was the only logical direction she could’ve gone. At least that’s what my mind wanted me to believe…so I did.

With an extra dose of hope in my step, I raced to the door and burst through into a still, moonlit night. I stood just outside for a second, allowing my eyes to adjust and my heart to slow. Was it the wine, was it the excitement, or was it just plain anticipation of finding her? This Jaden Thorne…

Breathing in and out slowly, I looked up at a sky dusted with sparkling stars set against a pitch-black backdrop. I smiled. Nerves bubbled inside me, reminding me of high school summer romances that were a dime a dozen, but priceless in their own right. Back then partners changed like dust in the wind but the feeling was constant—one of vibrancy and the self-indulgence of an intoxicating love.

The voice of one of my favorite artists floated by on a whimsical breeze and combined with the soft sounds of trickling water from a distant fountain. This called for a closer look. I made my way down a cobblestone footpath, admiring the moonlight as it reflected on the lush plants and shrubs. Without warning, the liquid symphony was interrupted by a soft, feminine giggle that froze me dead in my tracks.
I’m not alone…and I like it.

I strained to identify any inconsistencies in the outlines of my surroundings. With the help of the moon, I could find a garden, a small grassy patch of real estate, and what seemed to be a gorgeous fountain. Something about the fountain’s outline seemed askew and mobile. Craning my neck I found what seemed to be a human form sitting at the edge. Could it be?

The butterflies in my stomach turned to dragonflies as the hint of an encounter with the girl in red became a possible reality. My body moved without me willing it to do so, drawing me toward the silhouette sitting at the fountain’s edge. My mind asked it to slow down but my legs refused. Primal desire overcame any reasoning in hopes of fulfilling a promise I’d made to myself. The only thing that impeded my progress was the discovery of a pair of high heels at my feet. I bent down to pick up the dew-covered shoes. It had to be her.

Standing under a magnificent sky, in a beautiful garden, the breeze at my back and with the sounds of Frank Sinatra and trickling water egged me on. I was faced with a decision: approach this dream and take a chance on the gorgeous unknown or turn around and walk away, protecting my pride and ego.

Suddenly skittish again, almost every muscle in my body burned to run away. But the most important and most fickle one stood its ground and beat feverishly into my mind the answer I needed.
Go for it! One-hundred percent of the shots you never take are one-hundred percent of the shots you never make.

I took a few steps closer and breathed in a most enchanting smell…lavender rolled in vanilla topped with…something. God, it was delicious.

In the glow of the moon, I studied her form. She sat on the edge of the fountain with her head tilted back and midnight locks of hair falling over her shoulders. Her feet were submerged in the fountain’s bubbling waters. Perfection.

Gathering courage from a depth I rarely find, I exhaled my introduction. “Excuse me, Miss. Are these your shoes?”

Startled, she whipped around, nearly losing her balance. Even in the shadows of the night I could tell her beauty was unmatched. My heart pittered, and my stomach pattered.

“Yes?” she replied after a moment, sounding almost as if she wasn’t sure.

The sound of her voice gave me shivers.

“I wouldn’t leave these lying around if I were you.” Extending my hand I dangled the heels from one finger as I slowly approached her, hoping to appear non-creepy. But then something overcame me and I found myself sitting down beside her. I succumbed to some internal physical command and sat closer than one would expect a stranger to, but it felt right.

I visible shiver danced across her arms, and I removed my jacket and placed it around her beautiful shoulders.

“Thank you.”

I looked into her eyes and tried to make sure she was comfortable.

“Are you still cold?” I asked straightening the lapel and brushing aside a strand of ebony hair that had escaped from the rest.

“I’m fine,” she said, a bit nervously. But it wasn’t a this-guy-is-creeping-me-out nervousness. It was more a what-do-I-do-next-not-to-ruin-this-situation nervousness.

“Why are you here?”

“I’m here on business, networking.”

“That’s not what I meant. Why are you here…now…with me?”

I knew exactly what she meant, but I needed a second to think. “I saw you wander off in this direction, and when you didn’t return, I started to get worried.”

“You were watching me?”

“No, I was watching you watch me. There’s a difference.”

“Oh.”

Jackass. Really?
You’re gonna call her out when you were the one desperate for her to look in your direction?
What I wanted to say was that I thought she was the most enchanting thing I’d ever seen, and I’d wanted to talk to her all night but was embarrassed because I didn’t know if she’d give me the time of day.

As she turned away I lifted my finger to trace the curve of her cheekbone. She shivered under my touch. “A man would have to be blind not to notice when a beautiful woman like you looks his way.”

My touch turned to a caress as she shifted closer to me on the ledge and let her head fall to the side, exposing her neck. The urge to taste her was too powerful. Closing my eyes, I indulged in her flavors as her aroma engulfed me. A floral taste danced across my tongue as the smell of cinnamon and vanilla wandered through my mind. I let my hand trail down her back and rest at her waist. I could feel the outline of a skimpy thong hidden beneath her dress.

Without warning her fingers entangled my hair and ripped my head back. As I stared into her eyes, she cast a spell on me that I knew I would live with till my heart lubbed its last dub.

The romance of the situation seemed to overtake her, and she crushed her lips to mine to share our first kiss—the type of kiss that’s written about in romance novels and fairy tales, one that needs to be lived and not dreamed. I felt her body quiver as mine shivered. It was perfection.

We explored each other’s bodies in raw, physical excitement, much of which my pants were not doing a good job concealing. God, she was my living, breathing fantasy.

“Why don’t we go somewhere a bit more private?”

“I… I don’t even know your name.”

“Ivan.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” she whispered in a voice stained with regret.

“Why can’t you? Is something wrong?”
I can’t let this opportunity slip through my fingers.
I have to be with her. It’s all I want. To know everything and anything about her.

She distanced herself from me. “You should go back to the party, Ivan. Your girlfriend is probably waiting for you.”

“What girlfriend? What are you talking about?” I asked, suddenly confused.

“The blond woman who couldn’t keep her hands off you?”

“Who—the blonde with me earlier?” I wracked my brain as to who she was talking about.
Oh, Jesus! Stacey.
“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s a business acquaintance.”

“That’s not what it looked like.”

Someone’s jealous.
“Are you jealous?”

“Why would I be jealous? I don’t even know you.”

She began to wriggle out of my jacket, and I helped her free herself. I laid it across my lap. I had one shot to make her see I wasn’t trying to sweet talk her into a night of casual sex. I drew on the feeling I’d felt the second she stepped onto the dance floor, in that magical moment.

“It’s funny how a feeling can take a few seconds or a few years to surface. When I first saw you, I knew there was something there, something I couldn’t put my finger on. It drove me wild.” I paused to adjust my hair, which she had thankfully taken the time to mess up. “Whether you want to deny it or to embrace it, the choice is yours. But I know you felt it too. I could tell when you kissed me.” I spoke from my heart, regardless of how corny it may have sounded

“Ivan, I—”

A not-so-far-away uproar diverted our attention from the situation at hand. “The Way You Look Tonight” rang out across the night with its tell-tale orchestration. God, I love this song, and apparently so does she. I watched her face as an unsure look morphed into a for-sure grin, and I just knew.

“You like Sinatra?”

“Maybe. I do love this song,” she said with the same giggling laugh that had drawn me closer to the fountain minutes before.