Passion for Players Read online

  Yet the painting had been sitting in Bryce’s office, waiting for him to send it off to his lodge in Montana where it would better fit the environment. And it was in Bryce’s office that Darren’s solid, steady, some might say boring, world was tipped on its head. When it righted itself, Darren was not the same.

  He was changed by that painting. Moved by it in a way that all the art galleries and museums he’d visited before had only hinted at. The next day he’d gone to the gallery and viewed the exhibit in its entirety and he’d only fallen deeper under the artist’s spell. He realized then what art was truly about, and how influential it could be. More than anything he realized how powerful the artist could be. That artist in particular, he’d realized, held sway over him in a way that belied logic.

  And that was before he’d met her. Hell, that was even before he’d done an online search and found her picture next to a brief bio on her website.

  In the black-and-white picture, her hair had been pulled up and her face turned slightly to the side.

  He’d thought she was lovely, as beautiful as he’d dreamed the artist of that painting would be. She looked like she’d climbed out of the painting itself and was gracing the world with a glimpse of her elven magic.

  That picture was nothing compared to the real woman. He stared at her now, his brain a horrifying blank as his senses tried to take her in. But it was impossible to take her in in all her glory.

  She was magnificent. Unlike the picture, she was all color—her ivory skin made the perfect canvas—an exquisite backdrop for those lush red lips, those startlingly blue eyes. Her purple hair somehow fit her perfectly, giving an edge of the exotic to her pert pixie features and pointed chin.

  But it wouldn’t matter what color her hair was because her beauty went above and beyond the mere physical. She glowed. Was that possible? Could a human glow?

  If so, she did. If it they couldn’t, she did…in his eyes, at least. Her skin was luminous, but it was her eyes that held him mesmerized.

  They were blue. A bright blue and an artist could probably give their hue a more accurate label, but to him they were blue.

  Blue and expressive. He had the feeling that if he looked hard enough he could see straight into her soul, that was the extent of their complexity.

  He watched in fascination as her lips curved up into a grin. “Are you mute or something?”

  He stared. He blinked. He wondered in horror how long he’d been sitting there staring at her like some weirdo. “Sorry,” he said quickly with a shake of his head to snap himself out of whatever bizarre world he’d just entered into. “I just, uh…”

  Her dark brown, perfectly arched eyebrows shot up in amused question when he trailed off.

  “Are you Yvette Clark?” he blurted out. Of course it was her. He’d known it as soon as he’d entered the room and spotted her sitting in the corner with a ridiculously attractive man who he’d been sure was her boyfriend.

  He’d known it before Kat had come over to say hello and pointed her out along with some other of her friends that she wanted to introduce him to.

  He wasn’t sure why but Kat had seemed to take a liking to him these past few months. Maybe because he’d been helping her with the tax logistics involved in setting up her new company.

  Or maybe she felt sorry for him.

  He wouldn’t be surprised. People tended to feel sorry for him, if they noticed him at all. It wasn’t that he was particularly pitiful—at least, he hoped he wasn’t—he just wasn’t outgoing and didn’t have the kind of personality that leant itself to making friends.

  This was fine by him. Nine times out of ten, he preferred his own company to that of the people around him. But Kat either felt sorry for him because “he lived to work,” as Bryce put it, or she liked him despite his quiet demeanor, which was possible. After all, he and Bryce got along quite well and she and Bryce seemed to have a fair amount in common. Since Bryce and Kat were both workaholics as well, he felt almost certain that her efforts to make him feel included at this party fell under “like” and not “pity.”

  Yvette’s reaction to his question was what he would have expected if he’d thought before speaking. Her expression was a mix of amused, perplexed, with a hint of wariness thrown in on the off chance that he was a stalker or something.

  He respected that wariness. He’d probably be alarmed if some stranger came up to him knowing his name and staring like a creep. Clearing his throat, he tried to appease her concern. “Kat pointed you out earlier,” he said. That much was true.

  Some of her concern eased.

  “I was hoping to meet you because—”

  “I think you should kiss me.”

  I’m a fan of your work. His words were left unspoken as he gaped at this stranger—the woman he might possibly love, even though it defied reason. “Excuse me?”

  Her smile was a burst of sunshine. “Sorry, that was a bit of a shocker, huh?” She shifted on the sofa so she was facing him. He tried his damnedest not to notice how that made her dress hitch up even higher on her thigh so her creamy white skin was exposed.

  “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” she said. “I think you’re cute and I’m having a terrible night and I’m pretty sure that getting kissed by a good-looking guy will definitely help.”

  Was she serious?

  He took in her even stare. She was serious.

  Wasn’t she?

  He had no idea how to respond. Nothing in his staid, solid, and boring world had ever prepared him for a moment like this. He’d dated, of course he dated, but no woman had asked him to kiss her before asking his name. Hell, no woman had ever asked him to kiss her. All kisses had taken place after dinner, and sometimes a movie, when he walked his date to the door.

  But Yvette wasn’t his date. She didn’t even know him. But she was asking and he—

  Oh holy shit, why was he sitting here debating what to do?

  He had a feeling he surprised them both when captured her cheeks between his palms and lowered his lips to hers, pouring every ounce of the crazy, irrational feelings he’d been harboring into that kiss.

  There were no words for the intense spark that surged between them. Her lips parted beneath his with a small gasp, and he took advantage, his mouth slanting over hers as reason and logic stepped aside for a hunger that took full possession of his body and his brain.

  He needed her. That was all he could think as his tongue thrust into her mouth, tangling with hers as he tasted and explored, greedily and with zero thought to where they were.

  When her arms twined around his neck, holding him close as she met his kiss with the same urgency, he nearly drowned in pleasure. Heady and intoxicating, her scent filled his nostrils, her skin warmed beneath his hands, her body twisted and writhed to get closer and close the distance between them.

  She pulled back and took in a gulping, gasp of air, her eyes wide as they met his.

  For a heartbeat, he panicked. The crazy, mind-numbing haze of lust parted just long enough for him to experience a surge of horror. What had he done? He barely knew this woman and he was all over her. She must think he was some kind of animal. But before he could open his mouth to apologize, her lovely, lush, and swollen lips curved up in a shit-eating grin that made his heart stop and then start up again faster than ever.

  “That,” she said slowly, her hands wandering possessively over his neck and arms. “Was amazing.”

  He found himself returning her smile with a dopey grin of his own. He wasn’t much of a smiler—more than one friend and colleague had made jokes about how stern he always looked. But right now he couldn’t have stopped that smile if he’d tried, even though the tug and pull at his cheek muscles felt weird and unfamiliar, like a new pair of shoes that hadn’t been worn in yet.

  She leaned forward until her smiling lips were so close to his he could feel her warm breath like a caress. “Do it again,” she whispered.

  Yes, ma’am. He would have done anything she asked
at that particular moment, except that before he could dive back in for another passionate, exploratory kiss, they were both jostled as one of the partygoers backed into the couch they were sitting on and turned with a giggling laugh to apologize.

  That interruption was enough to bring him back to reality. He was at a holiday party. His boss’s holiday party, to be precise. Well, Kat was the one who’d sent the evite, but it was at their place, which they now shared.

  He’d spent the past six years working for Dalton Industries, and while he didn’t expect that one night of making a fool at himself off-hours would get him fired, he also didn’t want to live with that kind of humiliation hanging over him every day at the office.

  He could only imagine how much joy Bryce would get out of teasing him about a public makeout session. It would keep his boss with his rather juvenile sense of humor entertained for years to come.

  He cleared his throat, gently pulling back even though moving away from this woman—this precious, dream-come-true woman—was the absolute last thing he wanted to do.

  But, he reminded himself as he took in the flicker of confusion on her face, this was the woman he wanted to be with. Maybe even marry one day. But wow, he was seriously losing his grip on reality if he was thinking about marriage at this stage in the game.

  No. Love at first sight was a hard enough concept to grasp, he’d better stick with figuring out how best to ask this woman out on a date and take it from there. He should take things slowly, make sure she knew just how invested he was in this. Make sure she knew he respected her and wanted something serious.

  But his heart was tripping over itself with excitement. He’d found her, the woman of his dreams. The woman who made the world light up in Technicolor, the woman whose artwork transformed the way he saw the world. The woman who was currently turning him on more than he’d ever known was possible simply by sitting close to him.

  Her arms had dropped to her sides when he’d pulled away and now she sat there watching him with a look of…oh shit, was that hurt he saw in her eyes? Had she thought he’d been rejecting her?

  He reached for her hand when she started to pull away even further. “Do you think…” He stopped to clear his throat, which had her raising one brow in expectation. “Do you think we should take this somewhere else?”

  Her eyes instantly lit with laughter and something so seductive, it made him painfully hard. Lust. He saw lust in her eyes clear as day, and it echoed his own desire perfectly. Of course it did, they were a perfect match.

  “We could go grab some coffee and talk, if you’d like,” he started. But she didn’t seem to be listening. She’d tightened her grip on his hand and had come to stand, tugging him up alongside her as she slipped into her discarded shoes.

  She shot him a beaming smile over her shoulder as she used his hand to hold herself steady as she fastened her shoes. “Great idea,” she said. “Let me just grab my jacket and we can go.”

  He followed her through the crowd to a back bedroom where she quickly snatched up a bright yellow winter coat from out of a stack of black, grey, and brown jackets. Slinging it over her shoulder, she shoved him toward the bedroom door and then down the hallway toward the front door. “Okay, let’s go,” she said.

  “Shouldn’t we say goodbye to Bryce and Kat?” he asked.

  She made a face that said she thought he was cute, but nuts. “And answer their questions about where we’re heading? I think not.”

  He shrugged. Fair enough. At this point, this was just between them. They deserved some time to get to know one another before having to define this relationship. He followed her into the elevator where she surprised him by leaping into his arms and pressing her lips to his for another searing, mindblowing kiss that jumpstarted his body and left him panting and aching by the time the doors opened again with a ding on the ground floor.

  He let her lead him by the hand again out into the cold night air, which managed to shake him out of his lecherous stupor long enough to ask, “Where would you like to go? There’s a bar down this way, or a coffee shop that’s open all night, or—”

  But she’d already hailed a tax and was climbing in. He hurried in after her and shut the door. When he turned around, he saw her facing him expectantly from her side of the backseat. “What’s your address?”

  He blinked at her before automatically reciting his address for the driver. And then, they were off.

  To his place, apparently.

  Chapter Three

  What luck. Seriously, she’d sent out a request to the universe for a hottie to take her mind off her woes, and look what practically fell into her lap.

  She scooted closer on the back seat, eager to have his hands on her once more. Or his kisses. Good Lord, those kisses.

  For a dour-looking dud in a suit, this guy knew how to kiss. She had to rename him mentally. He was so not a dud. And not even dour-looking. She’d managed to get a real smile out of him back there and when he did…wow. That smile had slayed her. She’d found herself itching for a pencil and a sketchpad because that smile needed to be captured and shared.

  Well, maybe not shared. Her arm wrapped around his and he turned in his seat so he could kiss her, his hand coming up to cup her cheek.

  No, she decided. She didn’t want to share that smile. In fact, she was glad his smiles were so hard-won. It made it that much more special when she caught one.

  As those clever lips moved over hers, making her breathless again with his unexpected passion, she marveled at her luck once more. She’d found herself the perfect one-night-stand.

  It was almost a shame he couldn’t be more. But there was something about him that set off alarm bells. Not the “don’t go home with him, he might be a serial killer” alarm bells, obviously.

  The opposite alarm bells. The ones that said “too earnest, too intense, too serious.” Ever since her first boyfriend, those alarm bells had started going off when she got a whiff of a nice guy.

  And this guy, despite his stern expression and his rare fleeting smiles…he was nice to the core.

  She could tell. The alarm bells gave it away.

  But those alarm bells were currently being silenced by lips that were warm and strong, by hands that were moving over her thighs, clutching her hips as he tugged her even closer against him.

  Oh boy, they must be giving the cab driver quite a show.

  Oh well. No one would care in the morning. This would be one night out of time.

  She grinned against his lips, a new excitement stirring in her as his control slipped one peg at a time. She lived for nights like this. For moments that existed away from reality, cut out of space and time to linger in a perfect bubble of passion.

  The car came to a stop and so did his lips. Damn, she couldn’t wait to get inside and in his bed. Or on his couch. Or on his coffee table. Really, she’d have this guy any way he wanted her. Her hands smoothed over that ridiculously stuffy suit jacket as he leaned forward to pay the driver.

  He had a slim build but underneath it was hard and smooth. Lithe and lean, just like she liked them.

  Oh yeah, she’d caught herself the ultimate one-night-stand prize tonight.

  He opened the car door and leaned down to help her out, like she was a princess in a carriage or a starlet arriving at the red carpet and not some stranger who’d thrown herself at him at a party.

  God, this guy was adorable.

  Sure enough, the moment she was out on the sidewalk, he wrapped an arm around her waist and escorted her inside like a true gentleman. Normally she might have laughed at his chivalrous ways, and maybe even pushed him away. She was a grown woman, after all, she didn’t need assistance walking.

  Except that she did. Tonight, at least, she was fairly sure she would go splat on the icy sidewalk in these supremely unpractical heels.

  But they were so pretty she didn’t even care that they rendered her temporarily helpless. Besides, this guy seemed to like playing the role of knight in shining armor.


  Ooh. She bit her lip and giggled softly as a naughty image came into her head. It involved role playing and sheathed swords and maybe just a little bit of bondage.

  His head dipped down toward hers. “What are you thinking about?”

  She looked up to find him studying her with an intensity that was both sweet and alarming. His eyes flickered over her face, taking in her eyes, her lips, the purple hair that curled around her face, and most likely taking note of the little diamond stud she used as a nose piercing.

  What she wouldn’t give to know his reaction to the sight before him, because aside from lust, she couldn’t tell.

  Interesting.

  She felt a tugging inside her. Curiosity, she realized. When was the last time she’d felt that around a guy? It had been a long time, that was the obvious answer. The guys she dated these days tended to be simplistic. Not simple, necessarily. They weren’t dumb—at least not all of them were dumb—but their needs were simple, as were the depths of their emotions.

  They were easy.

  Heartbreaking and callous, typically. But easy.

  This guy? He would not be easy. There was intelligence in his eyes and she was fairly certain she could see him calculating and interpreting whatever he saw when he studied her.

  She looked away quickly. She didn’t want to be studied.

  He opened the door for her and led her to the elevators in the plush, elegantly lit foyer that was a far cry from her Brooklyn walk-up.

  When they entered the elevator she turned to him, cozying up once more to the lean length of him, and fully hoping and expecting that he’d take advantage of this cozy setting to kiss her with that passionate intensity of his, or maybe cop a feel. She’d happily take either or both.

  But instead his arms came around her gently—too gently. Where was that passionate intensity from the party and the car? He looked expectant, like he was waiting for something. “What are you thinking?” he asked again, his voice filled with an intimacy that set the alarm bells off with a vengeance.