As she stood, she spotted a striking sister in a bohemian-style dress enter through the sliding-glass doors. She swept into the library with more grace than a queen, and Dominique noticed that everyone cranked their heads in her direction—including Marcel. The mystery woman kissed him on both cheeks and then took the seat beside him.
“Ms. Dominique, are you okay?”
Snapping out of it, she dropped back down into her seat and smiled at Zabrina. “How about we read the article and one chapter of the children’s book? Just don’t tell Marcel.”
Zabrina flipped through the magazine and landed on page nineteen. “The quickest way to a man’s heart isn’t through his stomach. It’s actually further south, so forget what your mother told you and race over to your nearest adult s-p-e-c-i-a-l-t-y store?”
“Specialty,” Dominique corrected, reading the confusion on her face. “It’s a store that carries unique items.”
Nodding, she lifted the magazine until it was right under her nose. “Fill your basket with scented perfumes and massage oils because we’re cooking up a sexual…feast that will arouse your lover’s senses. Whip out the…” She stopped, her forehead rumpling with worry lines. She stared over at Dominique. “I can’t read this.”
“Don’t worry. You’re doing great so far.” To reassure her, she put a hand on her shoulder. “The word is edible. Try sounding it out again.”
Each time Zabrina said the word, an image of Marcel—swimming bare chested in the pool—flashed in her mind. Peeking out from around the cubicle, Dominique snuck a quick look at the handsome program advisor. Was that his fiancée? The woman her sister had told her about? Feeling silly for spying, she settled into her seat and ordered her mind to focus. But a second later, her gaze was drifting back across the room.
How am I supposed to concentrate when this article is making me think about all the naughty things I’d like to do to Marcel?
Chapter 3
“When was the last time you got laid?”
Marcel nearly choked on the water in his mouth. Ignoring the burning sensation in his chest, he turned away and swallowed hard. If not for his quick thinking, he would have spewed water all over his uncle Nigel’s tailored black suit. The First Centennial Trust bank waiting area was not the right venue to discuss his sex life, but if he didn’t answer his uncle’s question, he’d never hear the end of it. “I’m too busy with graduate school to even think—”
“It’s been that long, huh?” Nigel Benoit raised an eyebrow. Hands stretched out across the back of the couch, worry lines wrinkling his dark face, he reminded Marcel of his late father. Hit with sadness, he looked away.
“You need to meet someone new. Sarita isn’t coming back, and furthermore, she wasn’t the right girl for you,” he announced. “Didn’t it ever bother you that she was constantly on her cell phone? I mean, who goes out to dinner and spends the whole night texting her stupid friends? I would have left the table, except her parents were there and I didn’t want to be rude.”
“Uncle Nigel, you’re not being fair.” That was a lie, but he didn’t want his uncle to know that Sarita’s self-centeredness had been the source of many arguments between them. “All that really matters to me is that the woman I’m dating has a great personality and a good heart.”
Nigel snorted. “That’s a load of B.S. What man doesn’t want a hot chick on his arm? I know I do, and so do you. You just haven’t met the right kind of woman yet.” He winked suggestively. “After we wrap up here, I’m taking you to the strip club!”
Marcel checked his watch. “It’s only eleven-thirty in the morning.”
“I know.” His uncle broke into a grin. “Centerfolds opens at noon, so once my meeting’s over, we’re good to go!”
“Forget it, Uncle Nigel. I have a lot to do this afternoon. I need to send out more résumés and track down the job recruiter visiting the university this week.”
“Have you given more thought to what you’re going to do after graduation?”
“I’m hoping to get a full-time position, but if that falls through, I guess I’ll just have to go back home.”
“Your father’s dream was for you to come to the United States and make a successful life for yourself here,” he reminded. “Have you forgotten that you have family depending on you?”
Lowering his head, Marcel rubbed his hands across the side of his jeans. Whenever he thought about his visa situation, he broke out into a sweat. But what more could he do? He’d applied to every engineering company in the city—and even a handful throughout the West Coast. Maybe he was thinking too small. Maybe it was time he expanded his search—made it nationwide. Feeling better about his decision, he continued to listen to his uncle Nigel discuss his newest business venture. “You’re opening a clothing store in New York? Maybe I should forget engineering and come work for you!”
“Just say when. I’d love if you came to…” Eyes wide, he trailed off into silence. He slipped off his designer sunglasses and leaned forward in his chair. “Now that’s the kind of woman you should be searching for. She’s a beauty, and she’s obviously successful, too.”
Raising his head, he followed the path of his uncle’s gaze. Dominique stood behind the counter, pointing at a computer screen, quietly instructing the young, blue-eyed clerk. What was Dominique doing here and looking so authoritative no less? Her yellow blouse added a feminine touch to her sleek business suit. Her deep brown eyes were fringed with dark, curved eyelashes, but what Marcel loved most about Dominique was her hair. It was long, thick and full—perfect to play with and caress. “Her name’s Dominique King.”
His uncle’s jaw dropped. “You know her?”
“Yeah, and she’s a real snob.”
“She has every reason to be. Look at her!” Nigel peeled his eyes away from Dominique and turned to his nephew. “You don’t expect a woman wearing Cartier diamonds to talk to every Joe Blow who approaches her, do you? Marcel, if you want to date a sister of that caliber, you have to come correct.”
To set the record straight, Marcel told Nigel about meeting Dominique at the bachelor party and Sunday’s tutoring session. “We were supposed to have coffee after it wrapped up, but I couldn’t find her.”
“Well, here’s your second chance. Go over and invite her to lunch,” he proposed. “And don’t take her to one of those Asian joints that you like so much. Take her somewhere classy like the Chef’s Quarter.”
“The Chef’s Quarter! The entrées start at fifty dollars.” Before Marcel was finished checking Dominique out, she turned and walked into one of the back offices. “Dating a woman like that will leave me broke, and I have no intention of touching the money in my trust fund, so don’t even suggest it.”
“Tell the maître d’ you’re my nephew, and he’ll give you the best table in the house.” Nigel reached into his pocket and took out his cell phone. “I’ll call and tell the manager to charge everything to my expense account.”
“Uncle, I can’t do that. I don’t have the money to blow on a fancy lunch. Furthermore, I don’t want to misrepresent myself. If a woman doesn’t like me for me, then forget her. There are plenty of fish in the sea, right?”
“You’re right, nephew. There are a lot of women out there but few who look like her. If you’re too proud to accept my offer, then use some of that inheritance money and show Dominique a good time.” He made a point of adding, “Before someone else does.”
“Uncle