“Now I understand why you’re the most popular masseuse at Destination Wellness,” Marcel said, shooting her a smile. “You’re vivacious, and you have an infectious personality. I can honestly say I don’t remember the last time I had this much fun with someone.”
“Oh stop. I just love to talk!” Dominique laughed. “I monopolized the conversation at lunch, but you’re too much of a gentleman to admit it.”
“You have a strong opinion about everything, and you don’t hold back. That’s refreshing.” He lowered his mouth but didn’t kiss her. “I like being with you very much, Ms. King.”
Her eyes fell across his lips, and a delicious heat flowed through her. She didn’t know if she believed the story about his broken engagement, but she wasn’t going to sweat it. They were just friends, so it didn’t matter if he was telling the truth or not. But when he bent down and pecked her cheek, friendship was the last thing on her mind. For the past nine months, she’d been happily single, dating this guy and the next, but when Marcel touched her, she yearned for his kiss. Stealing herself against the thought, she vowed in her heart never to make the same mistake again. Falling for a man she was insanely attracted to had almost ruined her once, and she wasn’t going to get hurt by another good-looking man who told lies.
“What are you doing next weekend?” he asked, as they continued up the street. “I’m having a few friends over. You should come by.”
“I’ll think about it. I’m behind on paperwork, so I was planning to work that weekend.”
Undeterred, he made another plug for his party. “There’ll be good music, food and more than enough of everything to go around, so invite a few of your friends. The more the merrier.”
“I thought you said your apartment was small?”
He chuckled. “It is, but whenever the word gets out that I’m cooking Creole food my friends come out in droves! The last time I had a get-together, over fifty people showed up.”
“I love Creole food. Why didn’t you mention that part sooner?” she asked, laughing. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it, but put my name down on the guest list just in case. Should I bring anything if I decide to come?”
“Nothing but that pretty smile.”
“Marcel, are you flirting with me?”
“Yes. As a matter of fact, I am.”
Her laughter sounded sweet. “I like you,” she confessed, staring up at him. “A single girl can never have too many friends, and you’re a really cool guy.”
Marcel’s heart plummeted. Friend? What normal heterosexual man could handle being friends with someone like Dominique King? He was looking for a serious relationship and she loved being single, but that didn’t stop him from wanting her. “Oh, no, I’ve been relegated to the dreaded friend category.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Stopping outside of the bank, she stared up at him.
“Dominique, men and women can’t be friends. Where I come from, the whole purpose of dating it is to find a suitable marriage partner. No guy with a working pulse wants to be just friends with a woman as appealing as you.”
“I have tons of male friends,” she argued, “and none of them are carrying a torch for me.”
“They all must be blind!”
Uncontrollable laughter burst from her mouth. “You’re terrible.”
“And you’re beautiful.” He reached out and gently touched her shoulder. “I know a real nice café up the block. If you’re free tomorrow, I’d love to take you out for breakfast.”
“As friends?” she teased, raising her eyebrows.
“Hell, no!” Marcel chuckled. “I’ll meet you here at 8:00 a.m. How does that sound?”
Shaking her head, she gestured with her thumb over her shoulder. “Wednesdays are always crazy around here. Can we make it Friday morning instead?”
“Deal.” Marcel bent down and kissed her cheek. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Chapter 5
Stuffing the mail into his pocket, Marcel pushed open the door of his two-bedroom apartment and shuffled inside. His shoulders drooped when he rested the plastic grocery bags he carried on the floor. Marcel couldn’t remember ever being this tired and wanted nothing more than a cold drink, a hot meal and the comfort of his king-size bed.
Unbuttoning his sports jacket, he kicked off his shoes and strode into the kitchen. He’d get the groceries later, after he took a much-needed break. Marcel threw open the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water and perched on one of the metal bar stools. Tilting his head back, he took a long, satisfying gulp of his drink.
Sunshine streamed through the balcony doors, drenching the living room with light and warmth. Framed pictures hung above tan sofas, floor lamps were positioned around the room and engineering books lined the metal shelves. His sixth-floor apartment offered a remarkable view of the ocean, and after a stressful day, Marcel liked to sit outside on the balcony and unwind.
Remembering his mail, he tugged the stack of letters out of his back pocket. He saw the return address on a plain brown envelope, and his mouth went dry. U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services had sent him a third letter, which could only mean one thing. His heart thumped loudly in his chest as he ripped open the envelope and began to read.
“Due to the incredibly high volume of applications at this time, we regret to inform you that your visa extension has been denied. If you have any further questions, please contact us at the toll-free number listed under our Washington address.”
Expelling a breath, he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. He missed his family, but he wasn’t ready to leave the States—not until he’d built the life he’d always dreamed of.
Studying the calendar hanging on the wall, he calculated the number of weeks left before the end of the fall semester. Not far from now, he’d either be working at one of the city’s premier engineering firms or packing his bags for Mauritius. The thought of returning home made his head throb. The economic crisis had hit the small fishing island hard, and two of his brothers had recently been laid off. Finding a full-time position here in the States would not only bring him one step closer to achieving his dreams but it would ease his family’s financial burdens as well.
Standing, he returned to the foyer and grabbed the plastic grocery bags. He thought of calling his uncle but decided against it. Another person came to mind—a smart, captivating woman with delicate skin and silky hair, who he’d been unable to stop thinking about for the past two days. Talking to Dominique would help, but he didn’t feel comfortable phoning her. They’d hit it off at lunch, but he didn’t want to unload his problems on her.
Still, thinking about Dominique brought a smile to his lips. He was bummed about his visa situation, but he had another date with the attractive bank manager on Friday, and seeing her was a guaranteed pick-me-up. They shared a powerful sexual chemistry, but he knew being friends was definitely the way to go. Finding an engineering position was his top priority, not putting the moves on a woman he’d just met. But as Marcel shelved the groceries, he couldn’t help but wonder what the provocative beauty was doing tonight and with whom.
“If it isn’t man trouble it’s car trouble,” Dominique grumbled, flinging her keys across her desk. Annoyed, she draped her purple knee-length blazer over the back of her chair and plopped down onto her seat. To create a tranquil atmosphere, she’d decorated her office in warm earth tones, but today, the tan paint and bamboo lights did nothing to soothe her.
After discovering