Temperatures Rising

“Okay, then,” Terrence said, reaching out and squeezing Lucas’s shoulder. “Our weekend on the water is all set.”

“Okay, pal, don’t think we’re letting you off the hook that easy,” Stephen said, grinning. “Who is this woman that just brought a sparkle to your eyes?”

“You’re imagining things,” Terrence said, rolling those same eyes.

“I don’t think so,” Stephen countered. “We want a name.”

Knowing they wouldn’t let up, he said, “Her name is Sherri Griffin. She’s Warrick’s niece and works at the station as a programmer and producer. However, Warrick’s grooming her to be manager when he retires.”

“Is she pretty?” Lucas wanted to know.

Terrence didn’t say anything for a minute while sipping his drink, and then he said, “She is stunning. I mean jaw-dropping gorgeous, even in her business suits.”

Lucas chuckled. “The woman actually wears business suits? Here in the Keys?”

Terrence smiled. “Yes, but I’m sure sooner or later she’ll be coming out of them.” And I’m going to make sure she does.

Later that night Terrence strode through the door of his condo, satisfied that he’d finally gotten Sherri to have dinner with him. Now he had to continue to move forward. Remain calm. Stay in control. Yet he couldn’t overlook the same key questions that persistently reared their inquisitive heads. Why did it matter? Why was getting under Sherri Griffin’s skin so important to him? Why when he thought of such a thing happening did his heart thump furiously in his chest?

He moved to the window and looked out of it with serious eyes. Intense eyes. And to top it off, warning signals were going off in his head. He was not a man who thrived on escalating relationships. For reasons instilled deep within him, he much preferred affairs that led nowhere, and he certainly never considered the thought or possibility that he would diligently pursue a woman who refused to reciprocate the interest.

Yet he was.

He exhaled deeply as he moved toward his bedroom, fully aware that he still had his work cut out for him. For the moment, he wouldn’t spend time questioning why reaching his goal of bedding Sherri Griffin was of vital importance to him.

Chapter 3

Sherri inhaled deeply as she walked through the doors of Club Hurricane. After deciding a change of clothes was in order, she had rushed home from the station to quickly strip off her business suit and shower before slipping into a short pleated skirt and a silk top.

She glanced around and was impressed with the decor of the establishment and its ability to blend both casual and tailored, thanks to a solid wall of glass that provided a panoramic view of the ocean. Immediately she knew she had entered Terrence Jefferies’s domain. It was as high-class as the man himself.

She was greeted by a hostess. “Ms. Griffin?”

Sherri was surprised the woman knew her name. “Yes?”

The hostess smiled. “Mr. Jefferies has asked that I escort you to him.”

Sherri returned the smile. “All right.”

They passed the bar and stage on the way to the part of the club where food was served. Terrence stood there waiting. Sherri’s breath caught the moment she saw him, dressed casually in a pair of white linen slacks and matching long-sleeve shirt that hung outside his pants and made him look muscular and toned. Appearances were important, personally and professionally, and he’d cornered the market for both.

“Thank you, Debbie. I’ll take over from here,” he said, taking Sherri’s hand.

Debbie nodded before walking off, leaving Sherri alone with Terrence. He looked at her and smiled. “Thanks for joining me tonight.”

She felt the nervous tension in her stomach from just the feel of her hand in his. “Thanks for inviting me,” she said.

He then looked down at her from head to toe before returning an appreciative gaze to her face. “You look nice.”

“You look nice, as well.” And she meant it. He was definitely one fine-looking man.

He tightened his hand around hers. “I promised you a tour, so let me show you around.”

“All right.”

“The club is really divided into three sections. When you first enter you have the bar with the big screen for sports enthusiasts. There we not only serve drinks but sandwiches, salads and appetizers. The area across from the bar is where the music is set up so it can be heard in all parts of the club.”

They stopped walking and he gestured to where the band was still setting up. “We have live music on Tuesdays, Thursdays and the weekends. A huge dance floor separates these two areas from the restaurant, which overlooks the ocean.”

She glanced at the huge glass wall that covered the length of the back of the club. “Nice setup.”

“Thanks. It was designed to take into consideration all age groups, from the twentysomething up to the fifty-and-over crowd.” They walked slowly back to the dining area. “This part of the club is my favorite. I tried capturing the Key West flavor while maintaining a classy opulence,” he said proudly.

She glanced over the restaurant. “And I think you succeeded.” On each of the mahogany tables sat a hurricane lantern on top of an ocean-blue tablecloth. The chairs, padded with contoured backs, were shaped like seashells. The design of the chairs and the ocean on the other side of the glass window combined to create a seashore atmosphere while maintaining a high level of classiness.

He then gave her a tour of the kitchen and the rest of the club. “What made you decide on the name?” she asked when they returned to the restaurant area.

He smiled. “Two reasons. First, I played football for the University of Miami Hurricanes, and second, this area is susceptible to more hurricanes than any other part of Florida. I was in my first year of college when Hurricane Andrew blew up. Let’s just say hurricanes have given me a whole new respect for Mother Nature.”

“Hurricanes and all, you do like it here.” It was more of a statement than a question.

He chuckled. “Yes, I like it here. I enjoy going back home to visit, but as far as putting down roots, I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

He glanced at his watch. “I hope you’re hungry,” he said, keeping a firm grip on her hand while leading her toward an elevator.

Sherri nervously glanced around. “Yes, but aren’t we eating here?”

Another smile touched Terrence’s lips. “No. For space and privacy, my suite upstairs will be better. Do you mind?”

She glanced up at him, searched his face for any indication that she should mind. There was still chemistry between them, she couldn’t deny that, but she didn’t feel threatened at the thought of being alone with him. She forced herself to relax. “No, I don’t mind.”

They stepped into the elevator, and after Terrence pressed a button, the door closed. She’d never noticed just how intimate the inside of an elevator was until now. Nor had she known how hard it was to resist temptation until now. Terrence stood looking at her but saying nothing. He didn’t have to. His eyes said it all.

What she hadn’t read in them before stepping into the elevator was clearly in his gaze now. That longstanding desire she had tried to ignore was obvious. Whether it was because he saw her as a challenge or just the new woman on the block that he had to have a piece of, she wasn’t sure. But there was no doubt in her mind that he wanted her, and, if given the opportunity, he wouldn’t waste any time getting her.

That’s where temptation came in. She was tempted to give in to Kim’s way of thinking: that her constant rejection of his advances was absurd and that women with their heads screwed on right didn’t hesitate to date someone like Terrence. As far as Sherri was concerned, even being here tonight spoke volumes, but she wasn’t ready to throw all caution to the wind. She had a tendency to take things slow, wade in the water before actually taking a dive. But still, all she would have to do now was to reach out and touch him. Feel his muscles. Taste that smile right off his lips.

Before desire could play havoc with her common sense, the elevator door swooshed open. His hand touched the center of her back as he led her out of the elevator, and it took everything within her not to moan from his touch. Her breasts suddenly felt tender. Her nipples felt hard against the fabric of her blouse. And the body heat emanating from him was stirring sensations deep inside her.

They stepped off the elevator into a brightly lit hall, and with his hand still firmly placed on her back, he led her to a room that had a balcony facing the ocean and a table for two had been set. Candlelight and soft music told her they would be sharing a romantic evening.

She glanced around and saw a king-size bed against the wall. When her gaze met his, he read the question in her eyes.

“It’s needed,” he said softly. “On weekends the club stays open until two and it’s easier for me to crash here instead of going home. You’re free to take a look around and enjoy the view of the ocean from the balcony while I phone the kitchen so they can deliver our food.”

She nodded and gave an appreciative glance around the room, making sure her main focus was no longer on the huge bed. As she walked toward the balcony she couldn’t help but be impressed. Just like downstairs, the suite was immaculate. The only difference was that the furnishings in here were modern.

“Would you like something to drink while we wait?”