Irresistible? Page 12

  “Huh?” Mark swallowed the pills he’d shaken into his palm. “Oh, well, I knew I had to come in here this morning, and there were some papers at home I wanted to go over.” His voice sounded vague. “And don’t forget about the cat,” he added, his eyes darting around the room. “I had to check on her.”

  Ellie frowned slightly. He wasn’t very convincing. Obviously he preferred hurrying home to handle work details to dawdling in her bed. A career man, through and through.

  “By the way,” he said, “I ran into Molly while I was leaving your apartment. I didn’t see a third bedroom. Where does she stay?”

  Ellie’s mind raced. “Uh, she stays in Manny’s room.”

  “Ivan will be heartbroken,” he said.

  “Oh, they have an open relationship,” she improvised. “You never see them together.” She swallowed, then scrambled to change the subject. “This session shouldn’t take too long. All I really need to do is a composition sketch.”

  “Sure,” he said in a distracted tone. “Where do you want me?”

  They locked gazes. Ellie’s heart pounded as snatches of their lovemaking spun through her mind.

  Mark cleared his throat. “We really should talk—”

  The phone rang, breaking the spell.

  “I’ll get set up,” she explained, gesturing to her supplies. She kicked herself mentally. Mark Blackwell was the epitome of her father in his younger days. Hadn’t she always promised herself she deserved more than her mother bad put up with? So why on earth was she entertaining thoughts of a future with him? It had to be the pheromones.

  She heard Mark push a button. “Mark Blackwell,” he said, all business.

  “Marcus!” his mother’s voice screeched over the speakerphone.

  Ellie watched as Mark rounded his desk to sit down, worry in his face. “Mom? Where are you calling from? Is everything all right?”

  “No!” she continued more shrilly than before. “How can everything be all right when I arrive at Stella’s house for bridge and she announces to me that my own son is getting married?”

  “Mom—”

  “And please don’t tell me it’s to that fruitcake you brought to the reunion. I lived in the bathroom for three days—”

  Mark stabbed the intercom button and picked up the receiver, then spun around in the chair, his back to Ellie, murmuring low into the phone.

  Oh, great, Ellie thought, the woman does hate me. And the only thing she needed in her life less than a workaholic boyfriend was a workaholic mama’s boy.

  “Mom, don’t worry,” she heard him say. “It’s all a big mistake that got way out of hand.” He paused. “Mom, if I were getting married, don’t you think you’d be the first to know?”

  Probably even before the bride, Ellie mused as she unpacked her supplies.

  “Yeah, you can reassure Stella she doesn’t have to buy an expensive wedding gift, after all. I have to go, Mom. I’ll call you later.” He hung up and sighed. “Sorry about that.” He stood and walked toward her, shrugging sheepishly. “Mom is a little excitable, if you hadn’t noticed.”

  “Oh, really?” Ellie said, injecting a hint of sarcasm into her voice. “Did you set her straight about our little pretend engagement?”

  He did have the good grace to blush. “I told her it was all a mistake.”

  “She didn’t sound like the same woman who’s desperate for you to get married.”

  He smiled wryly, shrugging again. “I guess when it comes right down to it, she doesn’t want another woman in my life.”

  “More to the point, she doesn’t want me in your life.”

  Mark pursed his lips. “That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have asked you to pull all those stunts at the reunion. I guess my behavior was childish.” He looked into her eyes, and reached over to touch her hand. “I’m sorry, Ellie.”

  His voice and expression were genuine. Ellie blinked furiously to stern her welling tears. “All those stunts” were natural events.

  “Where were we?” he asked. Restlessly, he shoved a hand through his light brown hair, leaving it disheveled. For a few seconds, she felt sorry for him. His life had been turned upside down inside a week of meeting her. But then, so had hers.

  “You messed it up,” she said, reaching up to smooth the errant strands. His hair felt silky and thick, fresh from a recent shower, she guessed. Memories of twining her hands through it last night came to her, but she brushed them aside. He stood perfectly still, his eyes locked with hers while she fussed with his hair. Desire lurked in the depths of his forest green eyes. And what else? Affection? What might her traitorous eyes be revealing to him? “There,” she said, giving his hair a final pat and easing the moment.

  “I think we should talk about last night,” he said.

  “Well, I am curious about the blood on the sheet.”

  Mark gestured loosely over his shoulder. “I didn’t realize your nails were so long.” He smiled and added, “Or so effective.”

  Embarrassment sent heat rushing to her face. Ellie gasped, covering her mouth. “I did that?”

  He nodded. “You were the only other person in the bed.”

  “I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

  Now he laughed. “I only regret I won’t be in senior gym class tomorrow to gloat in the locker room.” He reached for her, and she went to him, her kiss a peace offering.

  The phone rang again. They parted. Mark glanced at the display, and reached for the handset. “It’s Ray,” he said. “Hello, sir.” He paused. “Yes, she’s still here.”

  Ellie’s eyebrows shot up.

  Mark listened for a few seconds, then surprise registered on his face. “Hold on and I’ll ask.” Mark pushed a button to mute the sound and said, “He wants to take Molly to dinner. Can you arrange it?”

  Ellie’s stomach dipped. “But Manny—”

  “I thought you said they had an open relationship.”

  “I, uh…Molly’s not exactly your partner’s type, Mark.”

  “Okay, she’s younger than Ray by a couple of decades, but you have to admit she’s showing a little wear herself. He’s a young and wealthy sixty-two. She could do worse.”

  She floundered. “But she hardly knows him…I don’t think she’d be comfortable.”

  “So we’ll double.”

  Her heart pounded. “As in a double date?”

  “Sure. It would give me a chance to get to know Ray more informally. And maybe we can find a way to explain away our pseudo-engagement.”

  “I’m not sure—”

  “Help me out, Ellie. I need to redeem myself for that little car-necking incident, which was really your fault, by the way.”

  “My fault?”

  He leaned toward her and nuzzled her earlobe. “It wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so damned irresistible.”

  Ellie’s pulse jumped erratically. He was right—the episode before the party had been her fault. All roads led back to the pheromone pills. “Well…”

  He pushed a button to retrieve his partner. “How about the four of us going to dinner? The Lexington Diner? Tonight?” Mark looked at Ellie for affirmation and she nodded resolutely. “Ellie will talk to Molly and get it all set up. I’ll pick up the girls and we’ll meet you there around seven.”

  “Thanks,” he said to Ellie after he’d hung up. “Ivan hasn’t dated at all since his wife passed away. This is a big step for him.”

  If he only knew how big. Ellie coughed. “I have to go to Underground this afternoon to stand in for an artist friend,” she said apologetically. “I guess I’d better get started here.”

  “Explain to me again what you’ll be doing today,” he said distractedly.

  The Puritan-white canvas she withdrew begged for paint. She loved the faintly pungent odor of newly dried gesso. “I’ll be applying a base coat of thin oil paint to develop a working composition—what objects are placed where in the painting.” She gestured to the canvas with a dry paintbrush for emphasis.

 
; “I thought it was just me in the painting,” he said, grinning.

  That smile of his threatened to be her undoing. “It is just you, but the background will also have its place in the painting. And the size of your shoulders, face, etcetera, is very important.”

  His grin deepened. “How low are you going?”

  Ellie rolled her eyes. “Just to your chest, Mark.” Not that she wouldn’t enjoy painting a full-length portrait of him, and nude, at that. In art school she’d drawn professional nude models who cut a less impressive figure than Mark Blackwell.

  “Anyway, the important thing today is to sort out the colors and placement Then I can begin the detailed work. By the way, the thinned-down paint I’ll use now will dry quickly, but once I start layering in color, I’ll be using long-drying oils. At that point, it’s going to be difficult to transport the canvas,” she smiled, suddenly fidgety. “Especially on a bike.”

  He looked confused. “So?”

  Ellie sighed. She hated doing this, it would seem as if she was trying to get him back to her place. “So, since I don’t have a studio to work in, I’ll have to set up the easel in my apartment and ask you to come there when I need you to, uh…sit.” Her face burned, but the situation couldn’t be helped.

  “And how often would I get to come and…sit?” he asked, leaning close. His dark green eyes danced merrily.

  “Not much at first, but then about every other d-day.”

  His face fell. “Is that all? I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you set up at my place? I’ve got plenty of room, and you could take care of—I mean, check in on your cat.” He stopped for a moment, concern on his face. “Is it a problem getting to my house that often? I’d hate for you to have to take a taxi every time.”

  “No,” Ellie said slowly, thoughtfully. “I could ride my bike to the train, take the train to the Dunwoody station, then ride the short distance to your house. It’s only a couple of blocks.” Ellie’s mind spun. It did seem like the perfect solution. And she missed Esmerelda terribly.

  Mark nodded. “Good, then it’s settled.”

  “But I’d have to be there during the day,” Ellie warned.

  “I’ll give you a key,” he said simply. “No big deal.”

  Sure, Ellie thought miserably. Obviously he didn’t perceive their working together in an intimate setting as a big deal. And why would he? He didn’t intend for their “relationship” to go anywhere.

  Of course, she had more immediate problems to deal with. Like matchmaking between Mark’s partner and her transvestite roommate.

  8

  “THIS I’m not sure about,” Manny said, drumming his painted fingernails on the kitchen table.

  “Me, neither,” Ellie admitted, sorting through the junk mail. “But you owe me one for leading Ray Ivan to believe Mark and I are engaged.”

  Manny threw his hands in the air. “I was only trying to save your reputation. He jumped to his own conclusion.”

  “Okay, okay. Go to dinner as Molly and you can help us explain the misunderstanding. Then you can make excuses the next time Ray Ivan calls.” She lifted a finger in warning. “But no funny stuff.”

  Manny reached over to toy with a rose petal that had dropped onto the table’s surface from the bouquet of a dozen in the delivered vase. “The man does have class,” he said, fingering the card with “Molly” written on it. “I take it you haven’t told Mark about the real me?”

  Ellie chewed the corner of her lip. “No.”

  His mouth tightened. “I can’t blame you. He’d die if he knew he’d come within a hundred feet of a drag queen.”

  “Manny, Mark’s a big boy raised in a big city—he’s not that naive. But I didn’t want to divulge details about your life to a man who was a stranger little more than a week ago.” She stood and tossed a handful of envelopes in the trash can. “And once the painting is finished and I’m out of pills, he’ll be a stranger again.”

  “Why do I feel a Barry Manilow song coming on?”

  “Look,” Ellie said in exasperation. “I need to know if you can pull this off tonight.”

  “Moi? I’ve been a woman nearly as long as you have, El. Of course I can pull this off.” He brightened at the challenge. “It’ll be fun.”

  Warning bells sounded in her ears at his exuberance. Manny loved nothing better than performing—she hoped he didn’t outdo himself.

  Indeed, when Mark picked them up, a bewigged Manny looked a picture of cool, tall, slender femininity in a short wrap skirt and fitted jacket. Ellie, on the other hand, was sweating profusely in her red silk shift by the time they reached the restaurant. She hadn’t expected Mark to recognize Manny—she sometimes had to look closely herself to believe the metamorphosis—but still she was a nervous wreck.

  The Lexington Diner enjoyed the reputation of being one of the swankiest eateries in the upscale area of Phipps Plaza. Not only was the menu famous, but the establishment also boasted a celebrated orchestra that played big-band tunes behind a large dance floor. According to Mark, all the attorneys at his firm held memberships.

  Ray Ivan sat waiting for the group at a secluded table. Everyone exchanged pleasantries. “You look stunning, my dear,” he crooned to Manny, standing to pull out his chair. The older man looked flushed and excited. Ellie noted the half-empty wine bottle on the table with a shiver of premonition.

  “Thank you,” Manny responded, his voice honeyed.

  The waiter brought more wine posthaste, and Mark ordered appetizers. Ellie didn’t take her eyes off the couple across from her, and concentrated hard to hear every word.

  “Molly, what do you do for a living?” Ray asked.

  Manny smiled coquettishly. “I’m a performer.”

  “A singer?” He seemed quite pleased.

  “And a dancer,” Manny confirmed.

  Ray leaned in to Manny’s ear. Ellie leaned forward to listen. “I should have known by those legs,” she heard him say, his words slightly slurred.

  “Oh, my!” Manny jumped, slapping playfully at Ray’s hand beneath the table.

  “Ellie,” Mark whispered, “didn’t your mother ever tell you not to eavesdrop? Let’s dance and leave them alone for a few minutes.”

  “But—”

  “Come on.” He stood and tugged her along behind him.

  Thoughts of a masquerading Manny were swept away when Mark pulled her to him in a slow, close waltz. She fused her curves to his hollows, tucking her head beneath his chin, and gave herself up to his liquid movements. He was a wonderful dancer, graceful and strong. She loved the feel of his muscles moving against her, his hips melded to hers, guiding her to the low throb of the music. His hand stroked her lower back, stirring volcanic reactions in her midsection.

  “You smell wonderful,” he breathed into her ear. “Can I take you home with me?”

  Ellie winced. She was oozing pheromones again. There’s nothing quite so romantic as an old-fashioned synthetic chemical reaction. She lifted her head. “What about Molly?”

  “If things go well, and it looks like they will, I suspect Ray will want to see her home.”

  Worry pooled in her stomach. “I didn’t expect Ray to be so…taken with her so quickly.”

  “Why not? He’s lonely, and she’s a striking woman. Let’s just let nature take its course.”

  Right now at that table, nature is being stood on its ear. Ellie bit her tongue hard.

  “So you’ll sleep in my bed tonight?” he murmured.

  Ellie lowered her chin to hide her eyes. She was falling for this man, and setting herself up for a fantastic tailspin. “Let’s just let nature take its course,” she said, settling into his broad chest.

  When she opened her eyes a few seconds later, she saw that Manny and Ray had joined the dancers on the floor. Manny held himself rigidly, but Ray’s hands were roaming freely. When he grabbed a handful of Manny’s rear end, Ellie missed a beat and stepped on Mark’s foot.

  “Ow,” he said, chuckling.

 
“Sorry. We’d better get back to our table—I’m starved.” She tugged him back to their chairs, and, thankfully, Manny and Ray followed suit.

  The waiter came around to take their entrée orders and delivered yet another bottle of wine on the house. Ellie lost count of the glasses Mark’s partner downed. When the saucers of escargot arrived, everyone dug in but Ray, who appeared to be well on his way to becoming smashed.

  Mark leaned over to whisper to Ellie. “I’ve never seen Ivan drink like this—he must be nervous.”

  Ellie nodded, glanced at Manny and swallowed a snail whole. His left eyelash was coming unglued and flapped precariously when he blinked. She looked over at Mark. He, too, had noticed and was studying Manny closely.

  “Um, Molly,” Ellie said, trying to keep alarm out of her voice.

  Manny looked up and Ellie winked hard at him several times, then wagged her eyebrows.

  “Is something wrong, Ellie?” Ray asked, exaggerated concern evident in his blurry eyes.

  “I, uh…” Ellie’s mind raced. “I need to go to the bathroom, and I need Molly to come with me.” She jumped up, grabbed Manny by the forearm and dragged him away from the table.

  “What is it now?” Manny demanded.

  “You’re losing an eyelash,” she hissed, herding him toward the lounge.

  He reached up to finish yanking it off. “Damn, you can’t find good adhesive anymore. I’ve got more in my purse—it’ll just take a minute.”

  They shuffled into the bathroom where Ellie wet a towel to hold to her perspiring face.

  Manny leaned into the mirror, carefully reapplying the lash. “Gee, El, Mark’s partner is as horny as the brass section of the Atlanta Symphony.”

  She threw him a sarcastic look. “And you’re complaining?”

  “Let’s just say what little appeal the man had evaporated a vineyard ago. And I don’t know how I’m going to get rid of him.”

  “Maybe our best strategy would be to wait for him to pass out.”

  “And when do we get to the part about your engagement being a farce?”

  “Even if we tell him, he won’t remember tomorrow.”

  “You’re right, which is why I’m going to tell him to kiss off.”