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  “Can we change the subject, please?” Guy said as he gestured for their waitress.

  Mason laughed, his gaze shifting from one brother to the other. “You guys cut Guy some slack. That woman is obviously a sensitive subject for him.”

  Kendrick laughed with him. “I’d be sensitive, too, if my woman was cuddled up with some other guy.”

  “She’s not my woman,” Guy snapped.

  “With the way old boy is slobbering on her, I’d say not,” Donovan noted, pointing with his index finger. “Your girl has been known to get around.”

  Guy turned to where his brother pointed, eyeing Drake just as he kissed Dahlia’s cheek again and nuzzled his face into her neck. A rush of heat pricked him a second time. “Don’t talk about her like that,” he said through clenched teeth.

  Before any of the brothers could comment further, their waitress appeared at the table, eager to serve.

  Across the room Dahlia rose from her seat, heading to the restroom to wipe Drake’s touch from her face. As she spun around she couldn’t help but notice the table of diners seated across the way, five handsome black men laughing heartily among themselves. Their familiarity drew her attention, and she paused, trying to recollect where she might know one or more of them from.

  Her gaze skated around the table, and recognition came when she locked gazes with Guy Boudreaux, who turned to stare intently in her direction. Seeing him face-to-face took her breath her away, and for a brief moment Dahlia thought that her quivering knees might send her straight to the floor. Taking a deep breath, she smiled, wishing suddenly that she could disappear to parts unknown. But with nowhere to go, she headed in his direction instead, a bright smile painted on her face.

  “Guy, hello!” Dahlia trilled as she moved to his side. She nodded in greeting, tossing a warm smile to the other men seated with him. “Gentlemen, good evening.”

  Guy rose from his seat. “Dahlia, what a surprise,” he said politely as he shook her extended hand. “Are you here alone?”

  Behind him Darryl and Kendrick locked gazes, fighting not to laugh out loud.

  “No,” Dahlia said softly. “Drake Houston and I were just grabbing a late dinner.” She gestured toward the table she’d just vacated. “When did you get back from New York?”

  Guy shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly. “I just landed actually. My brothers picked me up from the airport.”

  “Oh, this is your family,” Dahlia gushed, looking around the table.

  “I’m sorry. How rude of me,” Guy said as he pointed with his index finger. “Dahlia, these are my brothers. This is Mason, Donovan, Darryl and Kendrick. Guys, this is Dahlia Morrow.”

  Each of the brothers stood up, extending their hands to shake Dahlia’s. “It’s very nice to meet you all,” she said, noting their stark resemblance.

  There was no escaping the Boudreaux lineage. Their distinctive features hinted of an African-Asian ancestry, with their slight angular eyes, thin noses, high cheek lines and full, pouty lips. Side by side they were a kaleidoscope of colorations that ranged from burnt umber to milk chocolate.

  Guy was more bohemian in styling than his brothers with the dreads that hung well past his broad shoulders and the casual jeans and black T-shirt he wore. Guy’s brothers Donovan and Mason could have passed for twins; the low lines of their closely cropped haircuts complemented their distinctive facial features and conservative attire. Kendrick sported a full, shaped Afro and boasted a deviant, bad-boy facade in his low-slung, tattered jeans, leather vest and high-priced sneakers.

  They were each beautiful specimens of maleness, and as Dahlia stood in their presence she was suddenly aware of all the attention they were getting from the female patrons in the room. Only one of them had her full attention, though. Her gaze moved back to Guy. She took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne.

  For a brief moment there was an awkward pause at the two stood staring at each other. Dahlia then cleared her throat. “You didn’t call me,” she said, a hint of attitude in her tone.

  Guy shrugged, contrition gleaming from his dark eyes. “Sorry about that. I just...well...it...” he sputtered, seemingly unable to form a coherent sentence.

  Dahlia nodded. “What had happened was...” she said, mimicking him. She eyed him with a raised eyebrow.

  At a loss for words, Guy could only shrug, a hangdog expression crossing his face. He grinned sheepishly.

  Dahlia rolled her eyes. She then turned her attention back to the four brothers, who were watching them like one might watch a tennis match. “Well, it was very nice to meet you all,” she said, her warm smile washing over each of them. She turned back to Guy, and her polite tone unnerved him. “It was good to see you again, Guy,” she said softly. “Enjoy your dinner, gentlemen.”

  Guy nodded. “It was good to see you, too, Dahlia,” he muttered in reply.

  All eyes followed her closely as she exited the space, moving quickly toward the ladies’ room. The Hérve Léger bandage dress she wore fit her to a T, the signature bands hugging her curves like a permanent tattoo. Every eye was glued to the sway of her small waist and full hips and the long length of her legs that stood on four-inch peep-toe pumps.

  Across the table Kendrick hummed, a wide grin filling his brown face. “Mmm. I’d hit that,” he exclaimed. “If you’re not interested, I certainly could be.”

  “Shut up, Kendrick,” Guy snapped.

  His brothers laughed.

  “Yeah, he’s got it bad,” Kendrick said.

  “She’s quite a beauty, Guy. And if I do say so myself, I think she likes you, too,” Mason added.

  Guy sighed deeply. “I... She...” he stammered, still awed by the wave of emotion that had suddenly consumed him. He dropped back into his seat and said nothing at all.

  “And you’re resisting that why again?” Donovan asked.

  Guy tossed him a look. “I’m just taking my time. We’ll be working together, and I really don’t want to mix business with pleasure.”

  Mason nodded. “I can understand that. You don’t want it to get messy.”

  “Exactly,” Guy continued. “Especially since you and Phaedra have invested your money in this film, along with Phaedra’s brother. I can’t risk Dahlia and I falling out with each other and things not working between us and then the movie being compromised. It just wouldn’t work.”

  “Who are you trying to convince, us or yourself?” Darryl queried.

  Guy stared off to the side as he wasn’t exactly sure of that himself.

  Mason noted Guy’s distress. “Just a friendly word of advice,” he said softly, patting his brother on his back. “If you’re truly interested in this woman, don’t let the fear of what could happen keep you from pursuing her. She may very well be the one, but you won’t know that if you don’t take the chance. Step out on faith.”

  “I’ll toast to that,” Donovan said, lifting his glass in salute.

  The other brothers joined him, lifting their glasses, as well. As they each took a sip of their beverages Dahlia made her way back across the room. She and Guy locked gazes as she passed, both holding their breath at the anticipation simmering beneath the surface between them. Dahlia gave him a slight smile and Guy responded with a deep nod of his head. He continued watching her as she sashayed past, rejoining Drake at their table. There was no missing Drake’s excitement at her return.

  Guy stiffened as he eyed the couple intently. He grabbed the drink that sat on the table before him and chugged a deep swig of the liquor. Whether he admitted it or not, he’d missed Dahlia more than he’d realized. And he was kicking himself for not having returned her phone call.

  As Drake dropped an arm around Dahlia’s shoulder, Guy felt himself bristle again, jealousy definitely coursing through his body. Suddenly aware of his brothers watching him watch her
, he glanced around the table, his face flushed with color.

  “Step out on faith,” Mason said again as he reached for the basket of bread resting on the table.

  Before he realized what he was doing, Guy stood up. He paused for a brief moment, then found himself moving in Dahlia’s direction, coming to a halt at her table. He extended his hand toward her dinner companion. “Drake, how are you?”

  Drake eyed him warily before returning the gesture, the two men shaking hands. “Guy. Guy Boudreaux. It’s good to see you.”

  “You, as well,” Guy responded. “I hate to interrupt you two, but, Dahlia, may I speak to you for a quick minute?” His stare was intense, his tone demanding.

  His commanding presence shot a current of electricity up Dahlia’s spine. “Oh, so now you have something you want to say to me,” Dahlia said, still determined to give him a difficult time.

  “Please,” Guy persisted. “It’s important.”

  Dahlia hesitated. “I don’t think now is a good—”

  Guy extended his hand, determined not to take no for an answer. “Now, Dahlia,” he said sternly.

  Her eyes widened. “Well...I...” Dahlia stammered as she moved to her feet, sliding her slim body past Drake and out of the booth they occupied. “Is something wrong?” she questioned, concern washing over her expression.

  “No,” Guy replied as he suddenly slipped both his arms around her waist and torso and pulled her tightly to him.

  The gesture knocked the wind from Dahlia’s lungs as she felt her body melding easily against his. She clutched the front of Guy’s T-shirt, her eyes lifting to his. His stare was intoxicating, and Dahlia could feel herself slipping into the depths of his gaze, losing every ounce of her sensibilities in the longing that washed over her. She suddenly felt as if a part of her soul was sliding home. The connection was so strong, so intense, that she gasped loudly; the shock of the moment made it difficult for her to breathe.

  Without giving it a second thought, Dahlia wrapped her arms around Guy’s neck. His mouth was only a fraction of an inch from hers, and in a swift, delicate motion Guy closed the gap to kiss her, capturing her mouth with determination as he pressed his closed lips against her closed lips. His touch was velvet, soft and gentle, the sweetest caress of skin against skin, and Dahlia instinctively knew that no other man could ever kiss her like that.

  Guy was holding on to Dahlia as if his life depended on it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way about anybody. He wanted to claim her and protect her, and that sudden knowledge both frightened and excited him. He felt Dahlia loosen her grip on him, attempting to back away ever so slightly, but he wouldn’t let her. He tightened his hold, crushing her mouth with his as he savored the sweet taste of her. As his lips danced over hers he felt her shudder with excitement.

  Their rising passion was undeniable as their gentle kiss escalated to a full-blown, openmouthed, tongue-twisting, deep-soul kiss that had Dahlia quivering in her high heels. An eternity passed before they broke apart, both gasping for oxygen.

  Guy pressed his cheek to hers, still holding tightly to her, not wanting to let go. He leaned down to whisper in her ear, “I missed you, Dahlia, and I apologize for not calling you like I promised. Call me when you get home, no matter what time it is, and we’ll make plans to meet for breakfast in the morning so I can start to make up for being such a fool.”

  Dahlia nodded, unable to form the words to answer him. He smiled brightly, brushing his fingers against the line of her profile. He pressed a row of damp kisses along her jawline, then his fingers glided where his lips had just rested. “And, if you don’t call me, I will call you,” he added as he finally let her go.

  He turned his attention back to Drake who was staring with an opened mouth. Guy extended his hand a second time, acutely aware of the man’s shock. “Good to see you again, Drake,” he said casually. “Enjoy the rest of your evening. And make sure you get my friend home safely, please.”

  As he slowly strolled back to his table, a big grin appeared across his face. His brothers were high-fiving each other, signifying like only family could.

  “You don’t see that every day,” Kendrick said, pushing the send button on his cell phone. He had cleverly captured the entire moment in a video to share with their sisters.

  Mason shook his head. “I guess our brother isn’t worried about things getting messy anymore,” he said.

  Donovan laughed. “You’re the one who told him to step out on faith, big brother.”

  Mason nodded. “That I did,” he said with deep chuckle. “That I did.”

  Chapter 10

  Dahlia paced the halls of her home much like she’d tossed and turned in her bed the night before. Unease plagued her like a virus that was hell-bent on making her life miserable. She’d gotten little sleep, consumed by thoughts of Guy and his touch. The kiss they’d shared the night before had far exceeded the light peck on the cheek he’d given her days earlier, and she was overwhelmed by her reaction to it all. The fact that he’d done it in such a public manner didn’t help the situation.

  It had been some time since Dahlia had felt a connection with a man like the one she was feeling with Guy Boudreaux. The overrated movie star who’d wined and dined her into notoriety had come close to being “the one,” moving her spirit more than any other man before him. That movie star had helped put her on the front page of every magazine and tabloid across the nation, completely enamored with their very public image. He’d even reveled when the media had blended their two first names into a singular nickname.

  Behind closed doors, though, he’d been unsupportive of her, even confrontational, and all because Dahlia hadn’t been ready to take their relationship to the next level. Intimacy had been an issue for Dahlia. She had not been ready when he had expected her to be, and when she’d said no, asking him to give her time, he’d been unwilling. After one argument too many, Dahlia had washed her hands of him and moved on. Since then she had refused to let herself get too close to any of her romantic interests, not lingering in a relationship long enough for any man to think that she should be ready and willing on his command. And Dahlia’s choice to “not linger” is how she’d earned a reputation for loving and leaving the men who’d come into her life.

  But Dahlia hadn’t loved any one of them enough to even fathom making love to them, and casual sex wasn’t on her list of things to do. Waiting for the perfect partner to make love with, however, was. And not every man met Dahlia’s definition of a “perfect partner.” Dahlia didn’t take giving up her goodies lightly, most especially since she would be giving them up for the very first time.

  Her virginity had always been an issue for other people, most especially the men who she’d gotten to know well enough to tell. But once they knew, not one of them had been willing to wait for her. And now here she was, contemplating those same crossroads with Guy, wanting more but still not yet ready to cross to the other side.

  Guy. Thoughts of him flooded Dahlia’s mind. After a brief conversation over the telephone she was anxious for Guy to get to her home. To get to her. And that surprised her. She moved to peer yet again out an open front window, wishing she had a better view of the street to see him coming.

  When he’d called her earlier, the sun was just beginning to appear in the new morning sky, and he’d apologized for waking her. She hadn’t wanted him to know that she’d already been awake, dressed and anxiously waiting to hear from him.

  She was thoroughly annoyed that she was so distracted by thoughts of any man. Even more irritated that she was so enchanted with Guy.

  Just as he’d promised, when she hadn’t called him, Guy had called her, his call coming even before she’d reached her front door the previous night. At first their conversation had been sketchy at best, both self-conscious and uncomfortable. Then Guy had joked about the planning of thei
r second date. When Dahlia had countered with her own teasing retort about him not knowing how to return a telephone call, the comfort of small talk and their playful bantering had come back to them easily. And now she was excited at the prospect of seeing him again.

  * * *

  As he maneuvered his way through the streets of Los Angeles, following the GPS directions to the address Dahlia had given him, Guy was becoming increasingly irritated as traffic stalled his progress. He’d risen early, determined not to be late for breakfast with Dahlia. Determined to make amends for having been thoughtless.

  Dahlia had given him a hard time about not calling, and he’d had to admit that he was just being a man about the whole thing. And like most men, he didn’t always do what a woman expected him to do. In fact, Guy hated to admit that he rarely did what was expected of him. But for reasons he couldn’t begin to explain, Dahlia Morrow had him thinking about doing things a little differently. Dahlia had him considering a lot of things that he hadn’t given any thought to before.

  After Dahlia had left the restaurant, he and his brothers’ conversation focused on the boldness of his kiss and Dahlia’s reception to him being so forward. And despite the very public opinion of his playboy status, in that very moment Guy had given serious consideration to a relationship that would last longer than a minute.

  He let out a deep sigh as he rounded the corner of San Ysidro Drive and then turned onto San Circle. As he approached the gated community, he couldn’t help but be impressed by the Beverly Hills neighborhood, home to some of the entertainment industry’s most gifted talents. After passing the security guard’s interrogation, he was waved through, and a man pointed him in the direction of Dahlia’s home.

  Her Mediterranean-style house sat at the end of the cul-de-sac. Pulling into the home’s driveway, Guy was in awe of the terrain. Stepping out of his car, he found himself walking through the yard, moving from the front to the rear, to take in the views. With its resort oasis feel, the immaculate landscape boasted private patios, vast grassy lawns, an ocean-blue pool, a romantic fire pit with built-in bench seating, a barbecue center and absolutely stunning views of the city lights and vistas.