“You have done nothing to earn my sweet kisses, my darling.”
He groaned. “Then I’ll have to fix that.”
“Best wishes, my love.”
Marcel laughed. “See you in the morning, baby.”
She disconnected the call, smiling.
EIGHT
Ten a.m. sharp, Nairobia stepped out of her building to find Marcel’s driver waiting. The moment he saw her, he tipped his hat and smiled as he opened the rear door.
The car smelled of leather and him.
Dial soap, a hint of cologne, and a dizzying amount of testosterone. She slipped inside the car and leaned over and kissed him on the cheek once she was safely inside and the door shut. She hadn’t seen him since the radio interview, and he looked good, casually dressed in a pair of white linen pants and a white linen shirt that was partly opened, revealing a smooth expanse of chocolate chest. No, on second thought, he looked better than good. He looked…damn good, fucking good—and everything else in between.
He had his iPhone and iPad both on the bench beside him.
“Hello, beautiful,” he said, his lips slowly curving into a sensual grin. “It’s good seeing you.”
“And you as well, MarSell, my love,” she said, settling back in the seat across from him. This was the first time the two of them—not counting down at the radio station—were alone, together…without Marika.
For some reason, the space in the cabin all of a sudden felt smaller, the air between them thicker. She shifted in her seat.
“How’s the club going?” he asked, cutting into the awkwardness that had seeped in around them.
“Deliciously sinful,” she said, her tongue gliding over her lips. “You should come indulge your curiosity.”
Marcel smiled, his undivided attention on her. “I may do that.”
“And so you should.”
There was that awkwardness again.
But why?
He was no stranger to her, or she to him. So what was the problem?
Marcel’s phone rang. It was one of his many assistants, Arianna. He reached for it, and picked up. “MarSell here.”
“Hi, MarSell. It’s me. Arianna,” she said as if he didn’t already know.
“Yeah. What’s up?” he asked calmly, his gaze dancing up and down the length of Nairobia’s body.
“I know you’re on your way up to Rhode Island. So real quick. I need to know where you put the contracts that were on your desk yesterday.”
He stroked his chin. “Oh. They’re locked in my desk, bottom left drawer. Why?”
“Lance asked for them,” she told him. Lance Green was one of MK records’ attorneys, and Marcel’s fraternity brother.
“Oh, aiight. Make sure you lock my desk when you find them.”
“Already done.”
“Aiight. Hold it down until I get back.”
“Always, Boss. Have fun at the concert. And bring me back something. Nothing cheap, either.”
He laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.” The call ended and he set his phone back on the bench. He looked over at Nairobia. “Now, back to you, beautiful lady. I’m all yours for the rest of the trip.”
Nairobia glanced out the window and noticed that they weren’t headed toward any of the airports. She blinked. “Um, we are flying, no?”
He shook his head. “Oh, I didn’t tell you. My bad, baby. We’re driving up.”
Surprise flickered in her eyes. “Driving?”
“Yeah. It’s only a three-hour ride. I thought it’d be a nice leisure drive. Give us more time to spend together, before the concert…”
She blinked. He expected her to travel three hours in a car? Cars were made to sit in for travel under an hour; anything else required flying. What was this world coming to? She could have flown and met him there.
“And when do you expect to have me back?”
“Tonight. After the concert.” She flashed him a “you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me” look. Amusement curled his lips. “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll fly back by helicopter.”
She glanced at her watch. Laila’s concert had better be worth the trip.
Nairobia couldn’t stand it any longer. She had to ask, “How have you been holding up, MarSell, really?”
“I’ve been good, baby.” He smiled. “I’m even better now that I’m in the company of a beautiful woman.”
She blushed. “Thank you. But that’s not what I’m speaking of. I want to know how are you?”
He knew what she meant. His smile faded and he stared intently into her eyes. She saw the muscle in his jaw twitch.
“The truth, MarSell,” she insisted. “How has it been for you without Marika?”