Книга - Her Heart’s Desire

Her Heart's Desire
Lisa Watson


Love's his only missionAfter a series of dating disasters, Tiffany Gentry isn't ready to risk her heart again. Just when she decides it's safer to stay single, the Chicago boutique owner meets Colonel Ivan Mangum. The gorgeous military hero is an expert in security. Yet Tiffany has no defense against Ivan's sensual maneuvers….Ivan knows that Tiffany should stop looking for Mr. Right–she has already found him! From romantic city nights to a passionate tryst at his mountain retreat, Ivan uses every seductive weapon in his arsenal to prove he's her true soul mate. But when their future together is threatened, will this soldier find a way to turn his dream of love into a mission possible?







Love’s his only mission

After a series of dating disasters, Tiffany Gentry isn’t ready to risk her heart again. Just when she decides it’s safer to stay single, the Chicago boutique owner meets Colonel Ivan Mangum. The gorgeous military hero is an expert in security. Yet Tiffany has no defense against Ivan’s sensual maneuvers….

Ivan knows that Tiffany should stop looking for Mr. Right—she has already found him! From romantic city nights to a passionate tryst at his mountain retreat, Ivan uses every seductive weapon in his arsenal to prove he’s her true soul mate. But when their future together is threatened, will this soldier find a way to turn his dream of love into a mission possible?


He took her hand and held it suspended between them before he raised it to his lips and kissed it.

He lowered it, but didn’t let go.

“It was apparent to me after you left the community center the other day that I didn’t make my intentions clear. I guess I’m out of practice, so let me rectify that oversight immediately. Tiffany, would you like to go out on a date with me…tomorrow night?”

Relief and then happiness flittered across her face.

“Yes,” she replied. “I’d love to go out on a date with you—and I’m…happy that you don’t have a girlfriend.”

He grinned. “Does that mean that you won’t feel guilty the next time I kiss you?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good, because I’ve been wanting to do something else since I arrived…so indulge me a minute.”

Before Tiffany could ask what, Ivan’s lips descended on hers.

What started out as an exploratory kiss grew more intimate. He kissed her with confidence, as though he’d done so a thousand times before. Ivan seemed to know exactly what pressure to use to coax a response out of her, where to nibble, and how best to caress her while he did it. He tightened his hold to bring her closer still.


LISA WATSON

is native of Washington D.C., and the city’s historic and political backdrop fed her romantic imagination. Her hobbies are as eclectic as her music collection, but what Lisa loves the most is writing strong, positive characters who are memorable to the reader and fun. The picturesque locales Lisa visits always seem to find a way into her latest novels. Lisa has been married for sixteen years and lives in the Raleigh, NC, area with her husband, two teenagers and Maltipoo, Brinkley.

Want to connect with Lisa? Contact her at lywatson007@hotmail.com, on Facebook (NCLisaWatson) or Twitter (@lywatson007 (https://twitter.com/LisaYWatson)).


Her Heart’s Desire

Lisa Watson




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Dear Reader,

When it comes to hitting the mark with love, both Tiffany Gentry and Lt. Colonel Ivan Mangum have their share of misses. For both, past experiences have shaped them and caused hurdles to overcome as they navigate their way to true love. Norma Jean Anderson, aka the Love Broker, makes Tiffany her “love” project this time, dispensing sage advice on finding lasting happiness. A boutique owner, Tiffany is fiercely independent, which Ivan appreciates, but causes some contention for the overly protective man of action. I love these characters and their supporting cast. For this couple, the road to compromise is not always a smooth one. Can they find commonality, or will differing opinions tear them apart?

I hope you enjoy this Harlequin Kimani Romance book. I’m currently writing the final story in The Match Broker series. Keep reading to find out who’s next on Norma Jean’s radar!

Be Inspired…

Lisa


Acknowledgments

It’s amazing how many lasting friendships I’ve acquired by attending both the Romance Slam Jam and RT Booklovers Convention. Many of my opportunities and connections simply would not have been if it weren’t for the incredible people associated with these events. A special thank you to RT Book Reviews founder Kathryn Falk, president Ken Rubin and editor Carol Stacy for memories, friendships and learning that will last a lifetime!

My thanks to Pat Simmons, fellow author, confidant, critique buddy and overall wonderful person! Your unconditional love and advice are invaluable. Thanks for the many, many phone calls over the years to keep me and my characters on track!

To Tina Ezell Hull, another amazing writer and phenomenal woman! You keep me laughing, crying and eternally grateful for taking a ladies’ room break! I love you and those original, and poignant, Southern Belle tales!

To Renee Bernard, the newest member of my lifetime friend group and an extraordinary writer. I believe Leslie brought us together, and in a ladies’ room, no less! Our connection was instant, and our friendship sealed with laughter, tears, wine and love! What more could I ask for!? And thank you so much for The Jaded!

To my rocks: My husband, Eric, my unbelievably talented teens, Brandon and Alyssa, and my mother, siblings and family. Your love, support and understanding make it possible for me to live my dream!

For my readers—your kind words, love of my stories, support and excitement are what keep me going. Onward and upward!


To C. Adele Dodson. My Aunt…My Friend.


Contents

Chapter 1 (#u4442954b-8e15-57f6-a529-c3ec7dfad4ed)

Chapter 2 (#u57ed3f30-859e-50db-9544-76427768028c)

Chapter 3 (#u800b2ea5-55bb-5d39-bf0c-c2f8d1b3e91e)

Chapter 4 (#u96fd572f-7b35-5aaa-82a1-152fbd3587f6)

Chapter 5 (#ub69cae33-422c-5167-954c-2ae0ee390994)

Chapter 6 (#ude720cca-98a0-5ed0-a183-0fd9d8c000d7)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter 1

An impeccably dressed man stood across the glass countertop that separated Tiffany Gentry from her customers. Before she could offer him help, the gentleman interrupted.

“I’ve got to say you’re so gorgeous your beauty is hurting my eyes.”

That’s the best he’s got? Tiffany plastered a smile of thanks on her face when she wanted to smirk. The corny come-on lines were getting tiresome, but he was her customer, and a sale was a sale.

“Then perhaps I should step away while you pick out a necklace? I wouldn’t want to eclipse it with my beauty.”

He laughed loudly before looking at her again. “I love women with spunk. I doubt I’ll find anything as delightful as you, but I’ll try.”

The front door chimed, interrupting their conversation, for which Tiffany was grateful.

“Welcome to the Petite Boutique, I’ll be with you in a moment,” she said without looking up.

Her attention was still on the undecided flirt. Now he was leaning so far over the display case that his breath steamed up the glass.

The man sighed aloud. “Yes indeed, with so many choices, I can’t decide.”

Tiffany glanced toward the front of the store. She spotted a tall man looking at a display. Excusing herself, she walked over to him.

“Good morning, are you looking for something specific?”

“Yes,” he said, turning around to face her. “The owner.”

Tiffany stared at him. He was much taller up close, well built and had just done a marvelous job of rendering her speechless. She stood there staring so long that he finally said, “Do you know where I can find her?”

“Oh,” she croaked, extending her hand. “I’m me...that would be me...Tiffany Gentry. How can I help you?”

“I’m here to help you,” he replied, closing his fingers around hers in a firm shake.

There were a number of possibilities that sprang to mind on how he could help. The first was to help her up after she collapsed in a pool of hormones on her polished wooden floor.

“I’m sorry. I guess I should introduce myself. Colonel Ivan Mangum,” he said with a slight smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Colonel,” she replied warmly. Her skin tingled at the contact. She loved men with solid handshakes—no spaghetti hands. To Tiffany, firm grips exuded confidence and strength. “You know, when I called a few days ago, I had no idea you’d be able to give me an evaluation this fast.”

“Ms. Jeannie stressed that you needed something in place right away.”

“Sooner rather than later would be best. I’ve got to say, Ms. Jeannie thinks highly of you. She wouldn’t take no for an answer and practically hovered over me while I dialed your number.”

A rumble of laughter escaped his lips. “I understand, and yes, Ms. Jeannie can be persuasive.”

Relief swept over her face. “She can indeed.”

When Norma Jean Anderson, Tiffany’s friend Milán’s mother-in-law, had mentioned she knew someone who could help, Tiffany agreed that her safety and that of the store should be her priority.

Norma Jean had told her about a man who used to be in the army, owned his own business and had installed the security system at the senior center where she taught fitness classes. Now here he was, walking around inspecting her boutique with a practiced eye. Tiffany couldn’t help but feel protective of her shop while it was raked over by his penetrating stare.

“This is an eclectic store.”

“Isn’t it?” Tiffany said. “There’s something for everyone. Most items are one of a kind. We carry jewelry that I make myself, and I’ve got some artisan friends whose work I showcase, too. They make T-shirts, soaps, lotions and even pottery.”

Ivan looked around again appreciatively. “How many rooms do you have?”

“I’ve got the main area here, a storage room and bathroom. There’s an exit from the storage room. That’s where I receive larger deliveries.”

He nodded and typed some notes on his laptop. “When I first spoke to Ms. Jeannie, she told me that you’d had a break-in a few weeks ago?”

“It wasn’t exactly a break-in. More like an overzealous customer who wouldn’t leave. I didn’t hear him come in.”

“A forced entry?”

“No. I was closed for the night. The door was unlocked, which was my fault. The chime didn’t go off. When I came out, there he was.”

“Did you call the police and fill out a report? Did they dust for fingerprints?”

She shook her head. “He didn’t take anything, and I got him to leave so I didn’t call, but it was still...”

Ivan looked down when she stopped talking. “Unsettling?”

Tiffany glanced up at him. His matter-of-fact expression from seconds earlier was replaced with one of concern. There was something about his relaxed manner that made her feel better.

“Yes. I’ve taken a self-defense class. I’m an only child. I’m used to dealing with problems myself, but in that moment, I wondered if I could remember what I’d been taught. Could I protect myself?”

Before Ivan could reply, the man across the room cleared his throat loudly.

Tiffany gazed over her shoulder. “I should get back to my customer.”

Ivan gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m going to take some measurements and continue looking around if that’s okay?”

“Of course.”

Shortly afterward, the man strode out of the store in a huff. Tiffany was pretty good at reading customers. Her intuition told her he wanted to play, not buy.

Without customers, Tiffany focused on Ivan. When Norma Jean said he used to be a colonel in the army, she’d pictured a stodgy old white-haired man with a thickening midsection. Tiffany was wrong. She wondered if Ivan had been to exotic places all over the world, spoke several languages and was an expert in lethal weapons. Granted, she may be dramatizing his abilities based on some of her favorite television shows, but he looked capable.

What a magnificent body. At five feet two and a half inches, it was a given that most people were taller than her, but she guessed he was at least six-two or six-three. His job certainly kept him in shape. His dark suit and French Blue shirt fit like they were tailored. With his physique, he could easily have stepped off the cover of a Men’s Health magazine.

Ivan had flawless light brown skin, except for a small scar on the right side of his jaw. His eyes were a vivid amber-brown, which was a sharp contrast to his thick dark eyebrows and lashes. Dark hair cut close made her wonder what it would feel like to run the palm of her hand down the smooth nape of his neck. The urge to do it made her fingers tingle.

You’ve just met him, and you’re drooling over the man. But he was charismatic, and droolworthy.

She turned to see Ivan leaning on the wall opposite the counter with an amused look on his rugged face. “Have you finished?” she asked him.

“I have.” Ivan sauntered toward her. “The only thing older than that security system is the building itself.”

Tiffany laughed. “You’re right. I inherited it when I bought the place. The alarm is temperamental, and works when it wants to—like my last sales associate. Truthfully, I haven’t given it another thought until now.”

“Were you thinking the standard motion sensors with delayed-entry keypad, or something more advanced like heat signature, night-vision cameras and—”

“Whoa,” she cut him off. “Nothing too advanced. With my budget, I can’t afford Mission: Impossible–type security. I need a modest security system where I can enter a code, turn it on or off—and a panic button, of course.”

“Of course. You’ll also want a monitoring agency to alert the police?”

“Sounds good to me.”

He made a few more notes before asking, “Will other companies be bidding?”

“I’d say that depends on you, Colonel Mangum.”

“Call me Ivan. I appreciate the opportunity, and I’m sure I can help. I’ll call you when I have the proposal ready.” He extended his hand. “A pleasure, Miss Gentry.”

“Tiffany,” she corrected. Her hand slid into his. “Likewise.”

After he left, Tiffany went to the storage room to get a box of clothing. She placed it on the counter, pulled up a stool and began to add price tags. While she worked, she made a mental note to thank Norma Jean for recommending Ivan. He’d been a pleasant diversion today.

The phone’s ring startled her from thoughts of Ivan Mangum.

“Thank you for calling the Petite Boutique. How may I help you?”

“How did it go?” Milán Anderson, Tiffany’s best friend, asked. “Was the guy competent?”

“Yes.” Tiffany leaned against the counter. “Not what I expected.”

“Uh-oh,” her friend said with concern. “Good or bad?”

A smile covered Tiffany’s face. “Fantastic. I expected some old boring guy with a large belly.”

“Was he?”

“Nope.” Tiffany sighed. “Lani, he was straight out of an action movie—tall, commanding and built like he’s been working out since childhood.”

“What a meeting. Was business discussed, or did you drool the whole time?”

“It was all business. He’s probably married or has a girlfriend.”

Tiffany filled Milán in on her appointment with Ivan, then they hung up.

A healthy appreciation for a gorgeous man was fine, but she would not act on her impulses. She had been attracted to one too many men who were unavailable, and for all she knew, he was just the same. Still, it was impossible not to be drawn to him. When it came to first impressions, Colonel Ivan Mangum was definitely an Army of One.


Chapter 2

Tiffany almost dropped a glass bowl she was wrapping in tissue paper a few days later when Ivan walked in. He was wearing a pair of jeans, and a dark gray Under Armour shirt that fit him like a second skin.

She walked up to him as he was eyeing a crystal owl pendant. “Wow, you have my quote already?”

Ivan grinned. “Soon.”

“Did you have more questions?”

“Not on security. I’ve got a dilemma and thought you could help.”

“Of course. What’s the problem?”

“I need a gift. My grandmother turns ninety-six next week.”

Tiffany relaxed. “You’ve come to the right place. What does your grandmother like? Does she have any hobbies?”

As they discussed his grandmother, Tiffany guided Ivan around the store, showing him everything from velvet wraps to ceramic bowls, but nothing seemed right.

“Wait, I’ve got it.” With a grin, she retrieved the owl pendant and held it out to him. “It caught your eye earlier, and from what you’ve told me about her, I think she would love having something almost as wise as she is.”

Ivan’s fingers connected with hers. His touch was warm as it grazed her palm. He tilted the pendant in the light.

“That’s true. Always go with your gut, right?”

She laughed. “Words I live by.”

“In that case, I’ll take it.”

“Wise choice.” Tiffany winked. “I’ll wrap it for you.”

Celeste, one of Tiffany’s employees, rang up Ivan’s purchase while she wrapped the gift with care. Tiffany placed the birthday gift in a decorative bag and handed it to Ivan.

“I hope she loves it.”

“I’ll let you know. Thanks for coming to my rescue.”

A warm smile brightened her face. “Anytime.”

For the second time that week, Tiffany found herself staring as he walked out of the store.

The phone rang, causing Tiffany to almost jump out of her skin. She picked it up.

“Hi, honey. You’re not busy, are you?”

“No, Ms. Jeannie. What’s up?”

“I wanted to make sure you’re coming to the party tonight.”

“Like I would miss Milán and Adrian’s anniversary party. Of course I’ll be there,” Tiffany said.

“Great. Are you bringing a date? If you’re not, I’ve got a few prospects.”

Sometimes Norma Jean was overzealous in her matchmaking quest. And it seemed it was too late to dissuade her now.

“Ms. Jeannie,” Tiffany began, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but—”

“Trust me, dear. It’ll work out great. I promise. Now don’t be late.”

Before Tiffany could say another word, Norma Jean had hung up.

A blind date was the last thing on her mind, but getting that point across to Norma Jean was more impossible than keeping shoppers orderly at a Bath & Body Works semiannual sale.

* * *

Ivan opened the door to his parents’ two-story home and flipped the light on. He juggled car keys, his grandmother’s gift and a large brown paper bag. Kicking the door shut with his foot, Ivan set everything but the bag on the hall table.

“I’m home,” he called out.

“Down in a minute,” his brother replied from upstairs.

He went in the kitchen for plates, silverware and beers. Back on the couch, he took his carryout dinner out of its bag and assembled his meal.

Cole Mangum walked into the room. “Hey.” He picked up the remote and turned the television on before sitting next to his brother.

“Hey, yourself.”

“It’s Friday night,” Cole pointed out.

“Yeah, and?”

“What are you doing home?”

“Cole, I’m home every night,” his brother replied in a dry tone. “What are you doing home?”

“Waiting to see what’s for dinner,” he joked.

“Thai food,” Ivan replied, while dumping a mound of shrimp pad thai onto his plate. “I got your favorite.”

“Cool, thanks.”

Cole picked up a plate and helped himself to red curry with chicken. He strategically spooned it over his brown rice.

They ate in silence until Cole asked, “How’s work going? It’s been a few weeks since you’ve had an assignment. Aren’t you getting restless?”

“No. Helping people out while I’m here has kept me busy. In fact, I’m working on an alarm system now for a small boutique owner, Tiffany Gentry. I’ll need your help on it, by the way.”

“Is she the one Mrs. Anderson told you about?”

“Yes.”

“Is she attractive?”

Ivan stopped chewing. “Cole.”

A wide grin etched his brother’s face. “What? I’m just asking.”

“She’s a client,” Ivan dismissed.

“So? That time in Munich—”

“Drop it.”

Cole glanced at his brother. “What’s the big deal? What she looks like isn’t classified information.”

Ivan took a sip of his beer. “She’s about five foot three inches tall, has bright, expressive brown eyes, dark hair with highlights that she wears spiked and beautiful mocha skin. She has a beauty mole above her right collarbone, and when she smiles...her whole face lights up. She’s left-handed, sure of herself and wears a floral fragrance that reminds me of the ocean. It suits her.”

Cole tried not to laugh. “Did you miss anything?”

“In my line of work, it’s imperative to assess problems quickly—and people.”

“I don’t doubt it. She sounds like a beautiful woman.”

Ivan didn’t like where the conversation was going one bit. “Don’t even think about it, baby brother.”

“No reason why both of us should miss out,” Cole reasoned.

Before Ivan could open his mouth, Cole burst into laughter.

“Dude, I’m kidding. Don’t get worked up.”

Ivan’s eyebrow shot upward. “You haven’t seen me worked up.”

Cole sat back and put his feet up. “I’m sure that’s true, Colonel Mangum.”

An hour of dinner and television later, Ivan stood up. “I’ve got some work to do.”

Cole glanced at him. “Go ahead, I’ll clean up.”

Ivan thanked him and headed upstairs. He retrieved his laptop and sat down on the couch in his sitting area. He placed his feet on an old leather trunk and got to work on Tiffany’s proposal.

But twenty minutes later, he found himself leaning back, closing his eyes and recalling his initial meeting with Tiffany. Her playful manner and humor were refreshing. In his line of work, a personal life was challenging. Working in the private sector was no different. Ivan’s company and his time centered on his clients. Some of his men and women traveled to dangerous locations with dignitaries, business professionals and wealthy notables.

Even when he wasn’t on assignment, Ivan was involved in each case to ensure the safety of his employees and customers. The hours were long and the job physically demanding, but he was proud of his accomplishments and thriving business. He excelled at it, and loved every minute.

A knock sounded at his bedroom door, and Cole entered.

“Mom called. She asked how the renovations were going, and if we were eating.”

Ivan shook his head and smiled. His mother was a worrier. It had been eight months since he’d moved back to his family’s home in the Beverly neighborhood of Chicago. With work keeping him busy, he had taken his parents, Lennox and Maris, up on their offer to move back home and make Chicago his hub. Since they now spent the winter months in St. John, that gave him and Cole time to reconnect. So far they were making the most of their temporary bachelor pad.

“Did you tell her that you haven’t cooked since they left?”

“Ha. I told her we’re doing well, and the guest bathroom is coming along. She wants us to send some pics.”

Thanks to their father, Ivan and Cole were pretty handy carpenters. While their parents were gone, the brothers had decided to upgrade the first-floor bathroom. The remodel, his business and checking on their grandmother, Cecile Mangum, kept him busy. GiGi, as he and Cole called her, lived in an assisted-living facility in nearby Evanston. As the oldest, it was his duty to keep his feisty grandmother and Cole out of trouble while his parents were gone. It was a full-time job.

Cole sat down and propped up his feet on Ivan’s trunk. “Did you finish your proposal?”

“Not yet. I got...sidetracked.”

“What’s the cause of your preoccupation—or who?”

Ivan remained silent.

“Come on, Ivan. I can tell you like her.”

“Sure I do. Tiffany is a likable woman.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. It’s written all over that stern face of yours. You’re attracted to her.”

“I’ve got work to do, Cole,” Ivan said.

Cole stood up. “Fine. I guess I’ll let you get back to it, then.”

“Good. I’ll see you later.”

After his brother left, Ivan resumed working. He was diligent for a while, but his attention kept straying to Tiffany. She was unlike any woman he knew. Her sense of humor made him smile, and her beauty and spirit appealed to him.

But Cole’s reference to Munich was a somber reminder not to get involved with clients. The Munich incident had involved a friend of a client. When it was time for him to leave, she had not taken the news well. That had caused animosity from his client, and Ivan had vowed to keep things strictly professional after that.

Standing up suddenly, Ivan decided to go for a run. Physical exertion would get Tiffany Gentry off his mind—and if it didn’t, he was in trouble.

Big trouble.


Chapter 3

The party was at MG restaurant in a private dining room on the second floor. It was sophisticated and quiet, with perfect views of the Magnificent Mile. It was a fitting backdrop to celebrate her best friend’s first wedding anniversary. Tiffany set her gift on a beautifully decorated table, then walked over to hug Adrian’s mother.

“How are you, Ms. Jeannie? The room is amazing.”

Norma Jean Anderson beamed with pride. “Honey, they’ve outdone themselves,” she replied, hooking her arm through Tiffany’s. “I couldn’t be more pleased. This is the first restaurant they dined at after returning from their honeymoon. I thought it a fitting place for the newlyweds to celebrate their first year together.”

“I agree. You look beautiful, too.”

Norma Jean’s silver cowl-necked gown shimmered on her slender body and complemented her honey-toned complexion. Her gray hair was cut short in a style that suited her no-nonsense personality and classic elegance.

“Thank you, dear. You look divine in that dress of yours. Good thing there’ll be plenty of single men at this party like I promised.” Norma Jean nudged Tiffany.

“About that, Ms. Jeannie,” Tiffany began.

“Speaking of single men, did you call Colonel Mangum?”

“I did,” Tiffany replied. “He came out to the shop today and looked around.”

“He did?” Norma Jean replied. “And?”

“And he said he’d give me a quote in a few days.”

Norma Jean leaned closer to Tiffany. “Ivan is such a sweet man. Why he’s still single is anyone’s guess.”

Tiffany ignored that remark. Luckily Heathcliffe Anderson came up behind his wife just then. He greeted Tiffany and placed an arm around Norma Jean.

Norma Jean kissed Tiffany’s cheek and then turned to her husband. “Cliff, don’t just stand there, go alert the photographer that Adrian and Milán are here while I get the group in position.”

Her husband shook his head and leaned down and whispered conspiratorially in Tiffany’s ear, “Jeannie told me I didn’t have to do any work for this shindig, but we see how that turned out.” With a wink, he headed off to complete his assignment.

Tiffany hoped that when she got to be Ms. Jeannie’s age, she and her husband would tease each other like that. If she were married, that is. Up to this point, not one marriage in her family could be considered a testament to happily-ever-after. Her parents had divorced when she was fifteen, and were cordial when forced to be in close proximity. But the tension was always thick enough to cut. The other relatives that stayed married were so miserable, they would have been better off going their separate ways.

Tiffany was talking with friends when Mr. and Mrs. Adrian Anderson entered. The crowd applauded and cheered as the two made their way to the center of the room. After welcoming the guests and toasting the happy couple, Norma Jean turned the floor over to Milán and Adrian. After all the speeches were finished, Tiffany went over to her best friend, and the two women embraced.

“You look amazing,” Tiffany said.

“Gracias. Tú también,” Milán replied.

“You should have seen how long it took me to pull this together.”

“It’s the end result that matters, amiga.”

Before she knew it, Tiffany was the center of attention. Several people joined their group, and conversation about marital bliss took a backseat to discussion on the available bachelors in the room, courtesy of Norma Jean.

“We’re here to have a good time, remember?” Tiffany pointed out. “Don’t worry about me. I’m too busy for a serious relationship. My shop is the love of my life right now.”

“Honey, you work too much. What you need is the love of a good man to keep you warm at night, not a laptop.”

They all turned to see Norma Jean standing behind them.

A red tint spread across Tiffany’s face. She tried to hide her embarrassment. “I’m fine...really.”

Adrian wrapped an arm around his mother. “You heard her, Mom. Time for us to butt out.”

“Mmm-hmm. That’s what you and your buddies said over the last few years, and look what happened. I found perfect women for you—and the rest is history.” Norma Jean beamed with pride. “Another love connection for the Love Broker.”

Everyone laughed at Norma Jean’s use of their nickname for her.

“If I remember correctly, I couldn’t stand your son when I met him,” Milán said sweetly.

“And then I turned on the charm, and you were a goner,” Adrian boasted.

The whole group let out a collective groan.

Norma Jean turned to Tiffany. “What you need, dear, are my expert matchmaking skills. Don’t worry, lovebird, I’ll find your mate soon enough. You need to make time for some—”

“Jeannie,” Milán said quickly. “Isn’t it time for Adrian and my first dance?”

“You heard my blushing bride, Mom. Tiempo de bailar! Time to dance.”

Norma Jean gasped. “Come on, you two,” she said, ushering the couple away.

Tiffany mouthed a “thank you” to her best friend before she left to dance.

* * *

Tiffany was in a mood by the time she arrived home. She glanced across the hall to Milán’s old apartment. She missed her friend. Now more than ever, Tiffany wished she were there to talk things over with while eating a pint of their favorite ice cream and watching a good movie. With a loud sigh, she locked the door behind her and headed straight for the bedroom.

After a shower, she slipped on a pair of pajama bottoms and a T-shirt before going to the kitchen to retrieve a spoon and a cup of ice cream. Returning, Tiffany plopped down on the bed. While she ate, she contemplated Norma Jean’s words. Was she lonely? Was her job destined to be her only meaningful relationship?

Her store did take up a lot of time, but she loved it, and wanted her business to thrive. Still, she missed having a special man in her life to hang out with, share her thoughts with. Having someone share your bed wouldn’t be bad, either.

Her phone vibrated. She set her cup on the nightstand and picked it up.

She was surprised to see a missed call from Ivan. She dialed voice mail, and Ivan’s warm, deep voice filled her ear.

“Hello, Tiffany. This is Ivan Mangum. I have your quote ready. Call me, and we’ll schedule a time to meet.”

She listened to him recite his telephone number. Twice. She checked the time. It was almost eleven. She pondered if it was too late to call. Being ex-army, wasn’t he used to late hours?

Tiffany dialed his number and waited. She prepared to leave a message, but was startled when Ivan picked on the second ring.

“Oh...hi. It’s Tiffany. I hope I’m not disturbing you. I didn’t know if it was too late to call.”

“Of course not.” There was surprise in his voice. “Are you available on Monday to go over my proposal?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Great, how about three o’clock?”

“That’s fine.”

“Good. See you Monday.”

She nodded as though he could see her.

“Good night, Tiffany. Have a great weekend.”

Unable to stop herself, she grinned at his use of her name.

“Good night, Ivan, and you do the same.”

Tiffany returned her phone to the nightstand and replayed the conversation in her head. His voice was so sexy. It resonated in her ear when he said her name. A tingle shot down her spine. Unable to help herself, Tiffany thought about seeing him again.

Being attracted to him would probably turn out to be a colossal waste of time, but for right now, in this moment, she allowed herself to revel in the excitement of how he made her feel. After turning out the light and pulling up the covers, she closed her eyes, and Ivan instantly appeared—just as sexy and compelling as he was in person. Her stomach quivered in reaction as though he were standing right there.

For tonight, the image of Ivan Mangum would have to do.


Chapter 4

The weekend flew by for Tiffany. On Monday, at three o’clock on the dot, Ivan walked through the door.

“Welcome back,” she said.

“Thanks. I spotted a coffee shop down the street. I thought we could go there and talk.”

“That’s fine. I’ll get my purse.”

Tiffany went into the back room and retrieved her purse from a cabinet. She used a small mirror to freshen her makeup.

It’s not a date, she scolded herself while applying lipstick. Tiffany returned to where Ivan was waiting. He held the door for her as they stepped outside into the afternoon sun.

“So how long have you been in the area?” he asked conversationally.

“A few years. I’m originally from Baltimore. I’m an only child, and thought that it was time to change scenery. I came here for a job and never left.”

“Are you close with your parents?”

“For the most part. I miss having them nearby, but they visit when they can. Separately, of course. Together would be a definite nightmare, since they’re divorced.

“And since my business started, I haven’t really had the chance to get there as often as I’d like.”

“What do your parents do?”

“My father is a principal at a high school, and my mother works in human resources at a global investment firm downtown.” She turned to him. “What about you?”

“I was born here. My father was a colonel in the army, and my mother was a professor in the classics department at a local university. We traveled a lot, either for my mother’s book research or when my father got new orders. In retrospect, my father played a large part in my decision to join the army and go to Officer Candidate School after college.”

“That must’ve been fun.”

“Loads.” He laughed. “I’ve been out for a while and started my company two years ago. I’ve been pretty busy ever since.”

“Well, on behalf of civilians everywhere, I want to thank you for protecting our freedom and liberties,” she said.

A wide smile etched his face. “Thanks. It was my honor to serve my country.”

He held the door to the coffee shop open. They placed their order, and Ivan insisted on paying.

Tiffany found a table, and he came over with their drinks.

She inhaled the aromatic smell of her chai latte. “You don’t strike me as the tea type.”

He glanced down at his green tea. A lopsided grin etched his face. “I only drink coffee when I’m on assignments.”

“So you install security systems for a living?”

“No. I installed one a year ago for my grandmother’s assisted-living facility and picked up a few more locations by word of mouth. I’ve done a few businesses in Chicago. One being the community center where Ms. Jeannie teaches classes. I’ve taught a few senior security classes there.”

“You’re big on security.”

He laughed. “You could say that. My company, Mangum and Associates, specializes in personal protection for dignitaries, business executives and notables. We take long and short-term assignments.”

“Wow, so you’re like high-end bodyguards. Have you ever protected anyone famous?”

“A few,” he admitted.

“Seeing all those new places must be exciting for you.”

“Not all glitz and glamour, I assure you. It’s plenty of long hours, even longer reports and not much of a social life. In fact, I live a pretty monklike existence.”

“I’m familiar with that,” she said drily. “Not the danger and intrigue, but the long hours, minuscule social life and loads of paperwork. So why the business of protection?”

Ivan shrugged. “It seemed a natural extension of my skill set, plus I enjoy it.”

“I’m sure the world is a much safer place because of it,” she said sincerely.

Ivan glanced up. Their gazes connected across the table.

Clearing his throat, he opened his laptop. “I suppose we should get started.”

* * *

For the next thirty-five minutes, Ivan laid out his plan for Tiffany’s store. He took into account everything she asked for, plus a few Mission: Impossible–type features that she didn’t. When Tiffany started to protest, he cut her off.

“It wasn’t as expensive as you think.” He slid his laptop around to face her. “See?”

Tiffany scanned over the screen. She blinked a few times. “Wow, this is actually...affordable.”

“I get discounts on the merchandise, and my fee is reasonable.”

“Ivan, this seems like almost a pass-through on costs.”

“I’m not doing this to become wealthy, Tiffany. This is more of a hobby for me. The work I do at Mangum is high stress, keeps me busy and affords a great living. The services I provide to the community allow me to give back.”

She looked skeptical.

“It’s true.” He chuckled. “Now stop worrying, and tell me when you’d like to get started. It won’t take more than an evening or two to get it done. We work at night so there’s no interruption to you or your customers.”

“We?”

“I’ll be getting my brother, Cole, to help out,” he explained. “It will go much faster that way.”

“You have a brother? I don’t know why, but I assumed you were an only child.”

“Cole is my younger brother. It’s just the two of us. I think we exhausted our parents, so they quit while they were ahead,” he joked.

“My parents weren’t able to have more children, so I was it. Normally, I don’t miss having a sibling, but there are times when it would be nice to have more family—or at least a buffer every now and then.”

Ivan glanced over with a quizzical expression.

“They argued a lot toward the end. It was intense at times,” she explained.

That caused Ivan to frown. “I bet that was hard on you.”

She shrugged. “Kids are resilient. I learned to cope.” Tiffany played with her cup. “You know, I cried with relief when they told me they were getting divorced.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I wasn’t. Besides, I got another bedroom to call my own, so it all worked out. But enough about me. What about you?”

“My parents are still married and in love. Which only makes them more interested in what my brother and I are up to,” he said, trying to interject some levity.

“Sounds like they’d get along quite well with Ms. Jeannie,” Tiffany joked.

* * *

Ivan observed various emotions cross Tiffany’s face. She wasn’t as unaffected by her family’s problems as she tried to portray. There was real pain in her expression and body language. Before he knew it, he reached across the table and covered her hand with his. He squeezed it reassuringly, giving her some of his strength. A shocked expression crossed her face momentarily, but then she relaxed.

“I’ll bet your rooms were every teenage girl’s dream.” He watched a few tears glisten in her eyes before she blinked them away.

She laughed. “Maybe not, but I thought they were pretty cool.”

He released her hand. To give her a chance to compose herself, Ivan relayed some tales of his childhood. The sparkle in her eyes slowly returned, and she even chimed in with some funny stories of her own. Reluctantly, their discussion returned to work, and they were able to finalize the plans and payment arrangements. When they were done, Ivan escorted Tiffany back to her store. He held the door open for her, but stopped just inside.

“Thanks for this afternoon. And thank you for the wonderful security system, Ivan.”

He chuckled. “That’s the first time someone’s thanked me in advance.”

“That’s because I know I’ll love it.”

“Then you’re welcome...in advance.” He smiled broadly. “Cole and I will see you on Wednesday.”

“Great, and thanks again.”

Ivan took her hand in his again and squeezed. “Anytime.”

Moments later, Ivan was getting into his SUV. Their afternoon together had been illuminating. He learned that Tiffany held a lot inside, and that her emotions ran deep. He was surprised that sharing a few of her childhood memories had caused her composure to slip. Seeing her distressed like that had stirred something inside him. He barely knew her, and yet wanted nothing more than to protect her from the sadness lurking behind her eyes.

Then he recalled his vow on remaining strictly professional. Cole would have a field day when he found out Ivan’s latest predicament. With a wry smile, he started his truck and pulled off.

* * *

Inside the store, Tiffany’s sales associate, Celeste, came over to her. “Aside from having lunch with a bona fide hunk, what’s got you in such a good mood?”

“It wasn’t lunch,” Tiffany corrected. “It was a business meeting. I’m getting a new security system for the store. It’s long overdue.”

The younger woman tilted her head to the side. “Are you sure it’s not the man installing it that’s got you so happy?”

“Don’t be silly.” Tiffany tried to sound stern, but failed miserably. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. “He’s simply doing a favor for a mutual friend. Nothing more.”

“Sure he is.”

In truth, Tiffany hardly believed her own words, either. The second his hand touched hers at the café, a spark had flickered inside. The prospect of seeing him again was exciting, but grinning from ear to ear would blow her cover. She started to tell herself that he was a regular guy, but stopped. Not for one second was Ivan Mangum a regular anything.

Tiffany decided to call Milán to get a second opinion. The moment she answered, Tiffany whispered into the receiver, “I’ve got a dilemma.”

“What’s his name?”

Tiffany hesitated. She was about to step off a precipice, and when she did, there was no going back. With a deep breath, she said, “It’s...Ivan Mangum.”

“You mean the—”

“Yes.”

“With the—”

“Yes,” she interjected again. “But you can’t tell Jeannie, Milán.”

“Why not?”

“Are you kidding? If she hears that I find Ivan as delectable as a Krispy Kreme doughnut, she’ll be all over me like cling wrap to stake my claim on him.”

“And what’s wrong with that? You should snap him up before someone else notices that he’s single, attractive and a good guy.”

“Yeah about that—don’t you find it odd that he’s even available?” Tiffany countered. “Maybe he’s got seven kids in four different cities, or he’s commitment-shy?”

“Tiff, has it ever occurred to you that he could be single for the same reasons you are? Need I remind you of Adrian and me?”

“No,” she said quickly. “I get it. Maybe nothing’s wrong with him, and he’s single for no good reason...”

“It’s possible he hasn’t found the right person—just like you.”

Tiffany sighed. “Okay, I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“I’m glad. And you will be, too.”

“We’ll see.”

“So how long do you think it’ll take Norma Jean to figure out you like Ivan?”

“There’s no way I’m telling her anytime soon.”

“Trust me, if she gets a whiff of attraction, she’ll ply you with questions until you crack and spill the beans—I’ve been there. And if she sees you and Ivan together...”

With a gasp, Tiffany said, “That can’t happen, Milán, I mean it. Under no circumstances is Norma Jean to find out that I think of Ivan as anything but the guy who’s installing my security system.”

“It’s not me you have to worry about, chica,” Milán said.

She was right. Adrian’s mother had X-ray vision when it came to seeing what people didn’t want revealed, and her inconvenient habit of not being able to say Ivan’s name without smiling would be as noticeable as a flare shot into the sky. “Let’s face it, I’m screwed.”

“Don’t say that,” Milán admonished. “You’ll be fine. Besides, Norma Jean won’t be there Wednesday.”

“True,” Tiffany said with relief. “I don’t know what the heck’s wrong with me. Normally, I’m unflappable.”

“Totally unflappable.” Her friend snickered.

“I can do this. The next time he walks through that door, I’ll be cool and strictly professional. Mark my words, Operation Dry Ice is in effect,” Tiffany said, with feeling.

Now if she could only get her heart on board with the plan.


Chapter 5

The shrill ring of Ivan’s cell phone woke him up. Instantly alert, he retrieved it from his nightstand. “Mangum.”

“I’m sorry to bother you at home, sir,” his assistant, Curtis, said in a worried voice. “I’m afraid we have a situation. One that demands your immediate attention.”

“Sure, Curtis, what’s up?”

“There was an incident in Vancouver. Our client is fine,” his assistant assured him, “but Daniels was busted up pretty bad. I’ve sent another member of the team to take over, but...the client is insisting that you come personally.”

Ivan swore under his breath. “Understood. Make the arrangements. We’ll leave as soon as the plane’s ready. I want a briefing on the situation by the time wheels are up.”

“Yes, sir.”

He hung up and strode to his closet to start packing. Damn. He’d tell Cole his plans on the way out. Right now, Ivan needed to gather all the facts about the mishap to do damage control. At Mangum, an unhappy client was completely unacceptable.

* * *

On Wednesday, Tiffany closed up the shop early to accommodate Ivan and his brother. She set out snacks and drinks on the table in the storage room. She was working on inventory orders when a man walked through the door.

She knew immediately that he was Ivan’s brother. The resemblance was strong, but Ivan was broader in build, taller, and his eyes were more golden. She went to greet him. “You must be Cole.” She smiled.

He shook her hand. “I am. How are you, Miss Gentry?”

“I’m well, and call me Tiffany. Thanks for coming.” She looked behind him to see another man following. They made introductions. “Good to meet you, John.” Tiffany couldn’t help but ask, “Is Ivan on his way?”

Cole shook his head. “He’s been unavoidably detained. He asked me to apologize, and to let you know he’ll arrive as soon as he can.”

“Oh. No problem. I’ll show you around.”

Tiffany was disappointed, but tried to hide it. A short time later, Milán and Norma Jean came through the door.

When she saw them, she had to stifle a groan. “What a nice surprise,” Tiffany said pointedly.

“Isn’t it? Jeannie thought you’d like to join us for dinner,” Milán replied brightly.

“Yeah, and I wanted to see how Ivan was working out,” Norma Jean added.

Tiffany schooled her features. She didn’t need Norma Jean’s radar going off. “Oh, well, Colonel Mangum isn’t here, but should be soon. Dinner sounds great. I’ll go get my purse.” She sped off.

“Hello, Cole,” Norma Jean said when she spotted him. She walked over and hugged him. “Deciding to give the ladies a break this evening?”

“Now why would I do that, Ms. Jeannie?” Cole grinned. “Besides, it’s early yet.”

“Scoundrel,” she replied in mock disapproval. “Where’s that brother of yours? He’d better not be loafing around. I talked him up to Tiffany, so my reputation is on the line.”

“Don’t worry, it’s still intact,” Ivan called from the doorway.

Tiffany’s pulse quickened. He wore army fatigues, and looked more delectable than usual.

He went straight to Tiffany. “I’m sorry I’m late. I had an emergency crop up at work.”

It was tough concentrating on the words with his face inches away. His close proximity wreaked havoc on her senses.

“No problem,” she assured him. “The guys are moving right along.”

“Glad to hear it.” He turned to the other women. “How are you ladies?”

“Fine,” Norma Jean replied. “We’re going to dinner. Care to join us?”

“No, ma’am. We’ve got work to do.” He and Cole exchanged glances. His brother nodded. “We’ll be finished by the time you return.”

“Can I bring you something back?” Tiffany offered.

“We’re good, thanks,” Cole chimed in.

Norma Jean swung into action. “You heard the man. Let’s get a move on. I’m hungry, and the lines aren’t getting any shorter.”

* * *

The moment they left, Ivan turned to his brother.

“How are we really doing?”

Cole rolled his eyes. “Ivan, it’s not rocket science. I’ve got this.”

“Uh-huh.”

He flooded Cole with a barrage of questions. With a loud sigh, Cole brought him up to speed. Walking around, Ivan began spot-checking his brother’s work.

“Top-notch,” he confirmed after a full inspection.

“Thank you, Colonel Mangum,” Cole replied with a salute before giving his brother an “I told you so” look. Ivan was about to walk away when Cole said, “She’s fine, by the way.”

“Cole,” Ivan ground out.

“I’m just saying, she’s a cute little thing. Kind of short for you, isn’t she? But then again, you can make up the difference when you’re horizontal—”

A small box sailed past Cole’s head. He reached out and caught it. He flashed a huge grin at his brother. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

“The next time it’ll be my fist,” Ivan promised.

* * *

Outside, Tiffany realized she’d forgotten her cell phone in the store. She promised Norma Jean and Milán she’d be right back, then hurried into the boutique and over to the counter. As she grabbed her phone, she overheard Cole and Ivan talking in the storage room.

“She was the reason you were late?”

Tiffany stopped in her tracks. She definitely did not want to be caught eavesdropping, and yet she could not bring herself to move.

“No,” Ivan answered. “I was dealing with that mess Daniels created in Canada.”

“So all is well,” Cole said.

“Not for Daniels. He had two drinks while on duty. Company policy is no drinking while on the clock—no exceptions. He’s on probation.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit hard on him?”

“Hell, no. He’s lucky I didn’t fire him. In our line of work, there can be no distractions, Cole. Situations can turn into life-or-death scenarios in an instant, and my employees have to be prepared—for anything. I can’t risk them being impaired. Daniels was dead wrong, and there are consequences.”

“So where does Debra fit into the scenario?”

Unable to help herself, Tiffany inched closer.

“She contacted the office, and they patched her through.”

“Can’t you see what she’s up to? You’re her ace in the hole—you’ve always been.”

“I made a promise, and if Debra needs me, I’ll be there. End of story.”

That was her cue. Tiffany backed up the way she’d come, almost knocking over a display. Steadying it, Tiffany made a stealthy retreat. Her hand was on the doorknob when Ivan’s voice stopped her.

“Hey. I didn’t know you’d come back.”

Tiffany stopped and cursed her bad timing. She plastered a smile on her face and turned around. “Yeah, I forgot my cell phone.” She held it up. “I gotta run, though. Norma Jean’s going to have a cow if I take any longer.”

“Sure. I’ll be by in the morning to go over everything. How’s nine?”

“Great. See you then.” She made a beeline outside, closing the door behind her.

You’ve got half a block to make it look like nothing’s wrong.

“What could be wrong?” she said aloud. “I have no claims on him. We’re not dating. I thought he was cute, right? Nothing more. If he wants to pledge his undying love to Debra, he can go right ahead.”

With a superhuman effort, she got into the car and cheerfully said, “I got it.”

“Wonderful,” Norma Jean replied. “So where are we going to eat?”

“How about Rajun Cajun?” Tiffany said. “I could use a little something spicy.”

Norma Jean didn’t miss a beat. “Well, if you’d let me fix you up like I’ve been wanting to, you’d have all the spice you need.”

Milán laughed. “You knew she wasn’t gonna leave that one alone.”

Tiffany muttered something in agreement, and then turned her head to gaze out the window.

He’s taken. Crap.

* * *

An eclectic blend of New Orleans and New Delhi cuisines, the Rajun Cajun restaurant in Hyde Park was a favorite for soul food and traditional Indian dishes. After studying the menu, they placed their orders. While waiting, Tiffany recalled Ivan’s conversation with Cole. Hearing them discuss Ivan’s girlfriend had made her stomach clench. Granted, she didn’t know him that well, and had no claim on his affections, but it was still disheartening.

“So, Tiffany, I was thinking that this Saturday would be perfect for a date, don’t you agree?”

“Sure,” she said absentmindedly. “I’ll be there.”

“Great.”

When their orders were ready, Norma Jean invited them over to her house, but Tiffany wasn’t up for company.

“I’ll pass if you don’t mind. It’s been a long day, and I’m beat.”

Milán dropped her back at the store to pick up her car.

“Thanks, and sorry I’m bailing on you.”

“Honey, it happens,” Norma Jean responded. “We’ll touch base later about Saturday. I’m so excited.”

Tiffany waved goodbye, and was about to get into her car when she looked at her boutique. Ivan and his crew were gone. It was dark inside, except for the muted shades of pink emanating from a miniature poodle night-light at the back of the store. It was there less for security, and more because she thought it was cute and wanted something whimsical to remind her to smile. She could use that right about now.

Tiffany got into her car and headed home. While she was watching TV, Milán called.

“Hey, Lani, what’s up?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. Why’d you agree to go out on a blind date after telling me four times that you weren’t taking Jeannie up on her offer to fix you up?”

“Huh? I never said I’d go out with anyone.”

“Oh, you sure did,” her friend countered. “Tonight at Rajun Cajun. You said you’d go out with Gardiniér this Saturday.”

“What?” Tiffany exclaimed. “Who’s Gardiniér? I didn’t know that’s what I was agreeing to. I thought she’d asked me about...well, I don’t know what, but certainly not a date. Why didn’t you stop me?”

“Me? How was I to know you hadn’t changed your mind?”

Tiffany leaned back on the couch. “Is that his first or last name?”

“Uh, I think it’s his first.”

“That’s his real name? This is a disaster.”

“Don’t I know it,” Milán agreed. “Tell her you had no idea what she asked you. What had you so spaced out, anyway?”

“Ivan and his girlfriend, Debra,” Tiffany blurted out before she could stop herself.

“He has a girlfriend? How did the Love Broker miss that?”

“It’s not important,” Tiffany hedged.

“Apparently it is if you’re so out of sorts. Are you sure?”

“Yes. I overheard him this evening when I went back to get my phone. Her name is Debra, and apparently she needs him desperately,” Tiffany stressed, and then realized she sounded catty.

“Well, that sucks. I’m sorry, Tiff.”

“Me, too. Enough about Ivan Mangum. Let’s forget it, and I’m not taking Norma Jean up on her offer.”

Milán choked on whatever she was drinking. “You aren’t? How are you getting out of it?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll think of something.”

“Good, then you can come over Saturday for movie night with me and Adrian.”

“Thanks for the invite, but I think I’ll pass. You guys have fun. I’ve got to call Jeannie now and get it over with.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.” She hung up, then dialed Norma Jean. She hoped to get voice mail, but no such luck.

“Hi, Ms. Jeannie. How are you?”

“Just fine, honey. Trying to keep my husband from cheating in Scrabble. I’ve got to challenge every word he puts down. Get the dictionary, Cliff,” Norma Jean said distractedly. “No, moarting is not a word.”

“Um, the reason I called is that I...I can’t make the date this Saturday,” Tiffany said quickly. “I wasn’t paying attention when you mentioned it, and I’ve got plans.”

“Oh. Poor Gardiniér. He’ll be disappointed.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Jeannie. Thanks again for understanding,” Tiffany said.

“Oh, sure dear. I’ll call him just as soon as Cliff and I finish our game, which won’t be long. Why I let him talk me into this bootleg game is anybody’s guess. Good night, honey, I’ll talk to you later.”

She hung up. “Well, that’s one Gardiniér who won’t be landscaping my rosebush.”


Chapter 6

“You know, when I came to celebrate, this wasn’t what I had in mind.” Ivan handed his grandmother her ice cream, and then parked his SUV alongside the ice-cream parlor.

“Hey, I’m sick of sitting around watching television all day,” Cecile Mangum replied. “It’s my birthday. I wanted a change of scenery, and you’re the only one of us with a driver’s license. I really appreciate you taking me to my favorite ice-cream parlor, honey. Of course, if you prefer that I take the wheel I...”

“Oh, no, you don’t, Speed Racer. I can manage.”

Ivan’s grandmother snorted. “I go through one little red light, and the whole community is up in arms.”

“GiGi, you almost caused a four-car pileup behind you. Not to mention the couple on the park bench.”

“Hey, they moved, didn’t they?”

“Luckily for you, they were still able to,” Ivan pointed out. “Not everyone that old is that limber.”

“Presumably that’s why you’re here. I do appreciate the visit,” she replied.

Ivan reached over and squeezed her heavily veined hand. “It’s my pleasure.”

“I love my gift. How’d you know I like owls?”

“I didn’t.” His thoughts drifted to Tiffany. “I had some help trying to find something nearly as wise as you.”

“Scoundrel.” She chuckled. “And where’s that other rascal?”

“Cole had to work late. He’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Work indeed.” She took a spoonful of her chocolate sundae. “My grandson is probably out chasing skirts. Mangum men have always been charmers. You know, when your granddaddy was alive, he could charm me right out of my—”

Ivan quickly put up a hand to stop her. He took a healthy sip of his milk shake.

“Saints preserve me. You aren’t sitting next to the Virgin Mary, you know. It ain’t over till it’s over.”

Ivan looked decidedly uncomfortable. “Next subject, please?”

“Fine. If you don’t want to talk about my love life, how about yours?”

“There’s nothing to tell, GiGi. I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Hmm...I hear a restless note in your voice, honey. You need to make time for romance, and don’t give me that gibberish about work.”

“It’s not gibberish. I’m proud of what I do.”

“Yes, but can work get you a date?”

“I have a policy about not fraternizing with my employees...in that capacity.”

“Bah. Do you have a policy for everything? How boring is that? Ivan, work doesn’t keep you warm at night, or fill you with a burning desire to—”

“I get it,” he interrupted again.

“My body is old, sweetheart, not the mind. You need to find a woman who can make you happy...make your soul smile. That’s the kind of connection I had with your grandfather. It’s rare enough to find without you purposefully overlooking it.”

That made Ivan smile. He leaned over and kissed his grandmother’s cheek. “Who says I’ve overlooked it? What makes you think I’d bring every girl I date here?”

Cecile did a double take. “Every? Hell, how about any?”

Ivan stayed another few minutes, sparring with his grandmother before escorting her back to the assisted-living facility. On the drive home, he pondered her words. Some of her advice was spot-on. Ivan was stuck in a rut, and he needed to shake things up.

When it came to relationships, the challenge had been maintaining them. When he loved, he was all in. There was no in-between. Debra was the last woman he’d given his heart to, and she had handed it back with artillery shells in it. It hadn’t been loaned out since. There’d been women, but it was strictly physical, or as his grandmother put it, to get his ice-cream cone dipped once in a while. She was incorrigible. Cecile Mangum was a virtuoso at human nature, and seeing someone’s true colors. If Ivan could’ve done that half as well, he’d have saved himself a lot of heartache.

Debra’s deception had cut deep, but it was history. Ivan had survived. Now a new woman had caught his eye and breathed life back into him. She was exciting and beautiful.

Yes, definitely time to move on.

* * *

Tiffany spotted Ivan walk in. “Damn, you’re good! I love it,” she said excitedly.

“That’s good to hear,” he replied.

The Petite Boutique was not officially open, so they were alone.

“No, really. I love hearing the chime when the door opens. To know I’ve got 24/7 monitoring gives me a sense of security, and the surveillance feature...wow,” she exclaimed. “That I can be home and use my laptop to see the inside of my store blows my mind.”

It was hard not to get caught up in her excitement. Her eyes sparkled with it. Ivan was unable to keep from grinning, either. “Then I’ve done my job. I promised you Mission: Impossible, but on a budget,” he teased.

Ivan showed Tiffany more features and set up her surveillance program on her laptop. He helped her through the tutorial, as well as pointed out additional upgrades she could get later.

“Thank you for doing all this for me, Ivan.”

“It’s been my pleasure, Tiffany.”

Her associate, Celeste, walked through the door. When it chimed, the two shared a smile.

She walked him out. “So what’s next for you?”

“Jeannie asked me to conduct another senior safety class.”

“That sounds like fun.”

Suddenly, Ivan’s expression turned mischievous. “Great. I need an assistant.”

She stopped smiling. “Me? Huh? I... No, I couldn’t. I’d be terrible at it.”

“I doubt it. You said you’d taken self-defense classes before.”

“Yeah, but that was some time ago.”

“So you’re saying you can’t do it?”

There was a hint of challenge in his voice that ruffled Tiffany’s competitive side. She nodded before her cautious side could catch up. “I’ll do it. When is it?”

“Tonight. The name of the class will be on the door. If there’s a change, I’ll call you.”

“I don’t know, Ivan, I—”

Without warning, he held a finger up to her lips to silence her. She stilled.

“Tiffany?”

“Hmm?” She mumbled around his hand.

“Say yes.”

He moved his finger from her lips, but remained in close proximity.

“Yes,” she heard herself whisper.

The air crackled with tension. Unable to help herself, she gravitated toward him. They stood there for infinite moments staring at each other until a horn broke the spell.

Ivan backed up. “I’ll see you tonight at five. I’ll text you the address. Traffic may be rough, so give yourself extra time to get there. Bye, Tiffany.”

Without another word, Ivan was gone, leaving her standing on the sidewalk in front of her store with a baffled expression on her face. She raised a hand up to her mouth. His hold over her in that moment was complete and all-consuming.

When she regained her wits, Tiffany was mortified. The worst realization was that she had wanted a kiss to happen, more than she wanted to take her next breath.

Tiffany gazed after him until his Range Rover was out of sight. Ivan’s lips and everything else on him are off-limits. She vowed to repeat the sentence like a litany for the rest of the day in hopes of remembering that he was already taken, and to stop her heart, mind and soul from pining for a man she could never have.

* * *

Hours later, Tiffany arrived home worn-out, and no closer to not thinking about Ivan Mangum than before. After showering and putting on workout clothes, she surveyed herself in the mirror. Tiffany was nervous. Attending an exercise class was one thing, but being up there with the instructor was completely different. Especially when the instructor was Ivan.

“You can do this,” she said to her reflection.

Ivan had thrown down a challenge, and she planned to show him she could deliver. Their encounter outside of her store came to mind. Feeling his finger on her lips was flat-out shocking...and sensuous! Thank goodness he’d left before she’d voiced the desire to kiss him. She checked the clock, then grabbed her gym bag and headed out the door.

The community center was located in Washington Park on the South Side of Chicago. Tiffany parked and strolled into the building. She had a few minutes to spare, so she unpacked a yoga mat and warmed up. She was on her last rep of stretches when Ivan walked in.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” she responded. Tiffany rolled up her mat. “I was warming up.”

“Good. Our class should start in a few minutes.”

Ivan dropped his bag in a corner and strode over. “I’m glad you made it.”

“Of course—especially since you practically made me. Something you picked up in the military, huh, Yoda?”

He burst out laughing. “Well, apparently it worked. You’re here, and I’m grateful,” he said quietly.

Tiffany tried not to fall under his spell a second time. It was hard when he was looking at her with that same intense look as earlier. When you almost kissed him.

She tried to dismiss it, but it was hard to let go. The fact that he was wearing more physique-enhancing active wear didn’t help.

“So what’s on the agenda?” she asked, trying to ignore his effect on her.

“I’d like to cover some basic moves our group can learn to ward off would-be attackers. If they’re approached by someone bent on doing them harm, they can’t outrun their assailant. They’ll need to stand their ground. That won’t be expected by most purse snatchers. They’ll be expecting the flight-or-fight mechanism to kick in and will use it to their advantage to overpower the elderly person and take what they want.”

“Or worse, do them bodily harm.”

“Exactly. I’ll touch on situational awareness, too. Knowing what’s going on around them can decrease the chances of being approached by someone waiting to strike. We’ll cover the basics, but most importantly, we’re going to have some fun and get some exercise.”

“You got it, Coach Mangum,” Tiffany said. “I’m ready.”

* * *

Ivan’s class lasted an hour. He started with an informational session about himself and his background. Tiffany learned that he’d traveled many places, had trained with military personnel in over six countries, was fluent in several languages, an expert marksman, and studied mixed martial arts for the past few years.

In addition to being a lethal weapon, he was all business when it came to teaching the elderly how to protect themselves. She assisted him by demonstrating how to render an attacker senseless with a few well-placed Cane-Fu moves using their canes as a weapon.

Next, Ivan showed them palms to the nose, kicks to the groin, gouges to the eye and punches to the trachea. Ivan used Tiffany as the aggressor to show the class how to protect against a side-arm grab and a two-handed collar grab. Afterward, he checked people’s posture to ensure they were doing the moves effectively and without injury.

The hour flew by for Tiffany. She was actually disappointed when it came to an end. Quite a few people praised her efforts.

“I hope you’ll be coming back, little lady,” one man said.

“I’ll be here whenever Coach Mangum needs me,” she promised.

When the last of the students had left, Ivan came up to her.

“I thought that went well.”

“Well is an understatement,” she said. “Ivan, what you did for the class was inspiring. You could see their self-confidence growing as they learned and practiced each move. It’s a great feeling to be able to help someone overcome their fears and to give them the knowledge they need to allow them to feel empowered, to know that they have it within themselves to fight back if the situation arises.”

“Exactly,” he said eagerly. “The most important thing is getting the time needed to get away safely, or to render the bad guy incapacitated so they can get help.”

“You did a wonderful thing.”

He grinned down at her. “We did a wonderful thing. You were great.”

Tiffany couldn’t help the warmth that crept up her cheeks. “It was easy. You’re good at this. People can’t help but feel safer when you’re around.”

“Speaking of safe, how’s the security system working for you?”

“It’s been great, and I feel much safer now. Taking your class helped, too. I’ve learned a lot of ways to protect myself. Especially escaping a bear-hug hold.”

“Remember, the key to the bear-hug breakaway is to hook your foot around your attacker’s leg. Then both your hands go immediately to his, and then grab a finger or thumb and pull away from the body to break the hold.”

Before Tiffany could reply, Ivan dipped behind her and grabbed her waist. She immediately hooked one leg around his, and then planted her other foot. Tiffany put her hands on his arms, pushed down and then grabbed his thumb. She pushed it back.

“Good, now follow up with kicks to the groin and solar plexus, or elbows to the neck and face.”

They practiced a few times. Ivan was a big man, and though he did not use his full weight while going through the motions, Tiffany was still winded.

He nodded with approval. “Much better, but remember—” he grabbed her suddenly and spun her away from him so that her back was flush against his front “—quick blows, and then get out of there.” His breath caressed her ear in an intimate whisper. “And never, ever let your guard down.”

He turned her again so that they were facing each other, but he did not release her. Her arms came up to his shoulders to steady herself. Tiffany was breathing heavily from the exertion—or was it the close proximity to Ivan? She honestly didn’t know.

“Thank you for showing me that technique. You must be good at a lot of these.”

He chuckled. “I’ve had a great deal of practice over the years.”

Tiffany’s eyes met his. A warm heat spread from the lower half of her body upward. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she said, “I’ll bet.”

His eyes darkened instantly. Tiffany was too caught up in the sudden predatory gleam in his eye to move. Mortified at her own words, she blushed. “What I meant was...”

“You didn’t mean to give me a compliment?” he asked.

“No, I was...just not like that.”

Ivan lowered his arms, and she was free. Tiffany felt the rush of space between them. It was hard not to protest at the loss of warmth from his embrace.

“How about I walk you out?”

“Sure.”

He escorted her to her car and made sure she was inside and settled. He sat back on his haunches so they were eye level.

“Thanks again for coming.”

“My pleasure.”

“Good night, Tiffany. Ring me one when you get home so that I know you’re safe.”

She looked surprised. “Oh, sure.”

He stood up, tapped her door, and then moved back. Tiffany waved and drove away.

She decided to take the long way home to give herself some time to process what had happened after their exercise class. Out of the blue, their light, jovial manner had changed to something thick, tangible and most definitely sexual.

Recalling their conversation sent tingles throughout her body. She had never been that suggestive before, but being alone with Ivan after such a hands-on type of class made the nerve endings in her body go supercharged. She could feel an undercurrent. His amber eyes reminded her of a tiger’s, making her wonder if there were a few seconds before being devoured that the jungle cat’s prey stood mesmerized by the sheer hypnotic effect of its golden gaze.

The feeling was similar to observing one of her favorite paintings. The longer she stared at it, the more she wanted to stare.

When she was wrapped in Ivan’s ironclad embrace, the only thing on her mind was that she wanted him to kiss her. Not the quick peck on the lips, but the most thorough, deep, erotic kiss she’d ever had in her life.

* * *

As Ivan drove home, he thought about his evening. He had enjoyed teaching the seniors’ class—and spending time with Tiffany.

Who are you kidding? It’s the most fun you’ve had in a while.

He thought about the gleam in Tiffany’s eyes when she took him down for the first time. There was such a sense of accomplishment and confidence in her expression that he had to chuckle. Before she got back to business, she took a victory lap around the class that reminded him of Sylvester Stallone jumping up and down in triumph in the movie Rocky. She was something else.

He also recounted their playful banter and how, seconds later, it took everything in him not to grab her and claim her sexy mouth for a searing kiss. His body reacted instantly to the memory of how good she looked. Suddenly uncomfortable at the tightness below his waist, Ivan shifted a few times in his seat.

His cell phone rang. Thankful for the distraction, Ivan answered. “Hey, Cole. What’s up?”

“You done with class?”

“Yeah, why?”

“How about dinner at Giordano’s?”

“Sure. I’ll get us a table.”

Ivan arrived and ordered a beer. As he sipped it, he thought about his social life. GiGi was right. It was pretty boring. It was all work and family obligations. Not that he would ever shirk one of his responsibilities. Ivan was overzealous when it came to doing what was expected of him. The army had amplified that mantra. Still, there was more out there, and it was passing him by.

His thoughts strayed to Debra. Pain and remorse wrapped themselves around his heart like a vise grip.

“You’re scaring potential dates off,” Cole greeted him, sitting down.

Ivan pushed away the melancholy. “I’ll do my best.”

Since they already knew the menu, they ordered a deep-dish pizza with everything on it.

“So how was class?” Cole asked after their server left.

“Good. Tiffany was a fantastic assistant,” he said proudly. “You should’ve seen her.”

“Tiffany helped teach your class? As in, ‘she’s my client,’ Tiffany?”

“Yes.”

“What happened to that whole rule thing?”

“Technically, she’s not my client anymore,” Ivan pointed out.

“Great. Does that mean you’re going to ask her out?”

Ivan was silent.

“Don’t even try to convince me that you don’t want to. You should’ve seen your face when you described your evening. I thought you were going to need a towel to wipe the drool.”

Ivan grinned and took another sip of beer. “Shut up.”

“Dude, tell me I’m wrong,” Cole countered. “I don’t know why you’re trying to act like you aren’t attracted to her.”

“That’s not what I’m doing. In fact—”

Cole sat back in his chair. “Then what are you doing, Ivan?” He interrupted. “I’ve seen her. The woman is seriously working the hotness factor. Plus, she’s warm, funny and for whatever reason likes you. You scowl all the time, have no sense of humor and no love life. Why all that drives women out of their panties, I’ll never know.”

Ivan glanced over at his brother. “Wait...how do you know she likes me?”

Cole shook his head. “You’re pathetic.”

“What?”

“How is it you can hear a grenade pin being pulled from twenty clicks away, you’re a weapon unto yourself, an expert strategist, and can speak not one, but several languages in addition to English, but something as rudimentary as a woman who can’t keep her eyes off you goes poof...right over your head?”

“Okay, it’s not twenty clicks, and you have two seconds to answer the question,” Ivan warned.

Cole took a pull on the beer he had been given. “In that whole list of stuff, that’s all you got out of it?”

Ivan stared at him.

Cole shook his head. “It’s how she looks at you when she thinks nobody is looking, Ivan. She hangs on your every word, and the most telling sign was when you arrived late the other night and she thought you weren’t coming. She looked like someone had kicked her puppy.”

Ivan took a breath, then said, “Earlier this afternoon, we almost kissed.”

Cole leaned back in his chair with a shocked but satisfied grin. “Tell me everything.”

Ivan filled his brother in on his day and the connection he felt with Tiffany. Cole listened intently. When Ivan was finished, Cole said, “So what’s with the long face?”

“It’s...complicated.”

“What is? Call her up, take her on a proper date and get this thing going. What am I missing?”

Ivan frowned. “Debra.”

Cole let out an expletive. “I told you to take care of that situation, but you didn’t listen. Now you have to clear the air with Tiffany, and you know how that’s going to go.”

“I know,” Ivan replied. “I’m not sure she’s going to understand.”

“To be honest, big brother, I don’t understand why she’s still in your life. Cut her loose, and be done with it.”

“Debra and I were over a long time ago. She made her choice, and I respected it. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t have much of a choice, did I? She picked Brian to spend her life with, and I’ve been dealing with that decision ever since.”





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