Until Now

And not only did he look good and feel good, he smelled good.

Tamara’s eyes widened with alarm. Why on earth was she thinking about the fact that he smelled good?

“I hear you’re from Cleveland,” he said, distracting her from her thoughts. “How is it I’ve never seen you around before?”

“You’ve seen everyone within the city limits?” Tamara challenged.

He eased back to look down at her. “Someone like you I would have noticed.”

Tamara leaned her head forward so that he wouldn’t see her face and rolled her eyes. He was so predictable. Did every player in the world have to comment on how odd it was that an attractive woman had escaped his prowl?

“I didn’t exactly look like this when I moved from Cleveland the summer after my freshman year of college. I was too skinny, had no fashion sense. I didn’t attract a lot of male attention.”

“I find that very hard to believe.”

Tamara eyed him, thinking it ironic that he didn’t realize his very words were proving her point. Obviously, her very boring appearance had to be why he hadn’t noticed her when he was dating Gloria. True, she hadn’t met him many times, but it was clear that his encounters with the shy, gawky kid she’d been had not been memorable.

One of the reasons Tamara had been drawn to Patrick when they’d met was because he had seemed smitten with her. Patrick had been older, worldly, and saw her as a diamond in the rough in a sea of more sophisticated women. Ironic, when Tamara had started to become a more confident person, Patrick hadn’t liked it.

“I didn’t hang out much,” Tamara added. “I was more of a bookworm. I didn’t do the club scene.”

“Maybe that explains it,” Marshall said. “You must have been hidden away somewhere. Your father was probably afraid to let you out into the world.”

Tamara rolled her eyes again. So he really had no clue.

A few seconds later, when the song ended, Tamara began to ease back. “Well, thanks for the—”

“Oh, no no no. I’m not ready to let you go yet. The music is still slow. We can keep dancing.”

She eyed him with curiosity as the Charlie Wilson song began to play. “Seriously, don’t you think your date will get upset?” Tamara hadn’t seen the woman in a while, but she didn’t have to see her to know that a second dance with another woman would no doubt irk his date.

“My date?” Marshall looked confused. “Oh, my cousin. She left.”

“Your cousin?” Tamara asked doubtfully.

“So you noticed me,” Marshall said, sounding amused.

“Who wouldn’t?” Tamara countered. “Tell me, was her dress painted on?”

Marshall chuckled, a throaty sound that was all too enticing. “Renee likes attention, I’ll give you that. She had to head home right after dinner. She agreed to accompany me because I didn’t have a date.”

Now Tamara was the one who laughed. “You don’t strike me as the kind of man who has a hard time finding a date. Unless, of course, you’ve gone through all the women in Cleveland...”

“Ah!” Marshall exclaimed, his lips widening in a grin. “I like you. You’re funny.”

She wasn’t trying to be funny. She was diplomatically letting him know that she knew exactly what kind of man he was.

But the interchange between them was becoming more interesting by the second, and she was suddenly feeling a little mischievous.

“So, what’s your name?” she asked, her voice taking on a little flirtatious subtext.

“Marshall,” he answered. “And I’ve already heard your name. Tamara.”

“That means you’ve inquired about me?”

“Like I said, I noticed you. And I understand that you’re back in town for a while.”

“You’ve certainly done your homework.” Tamara looked up at him and gave him a quizzical look, and even batted her eyelashes. She would play his game. Play it so she could get the satisfaction of rejecting him.

“Someone like you—of course I did my homework.”

“My, is this how you are with all the women? Total silver tongue?”

“You’ve got me all wrong,” Marshall said. “If you’re implying that I’m simply a sweet-talker, that’s not me.”

Again, Tamara eased back to look at him. “You’re telling me that you haven’t broken your fair share of hearts?”

“I’ve had my heart broken, too.”

Yeah right, Tamara thought. Men like Marshall didn’t get their hearts broken, because they didn’t have a heart. When it came to relationships, all that mattered were the notches on their bedposts. Men like Marshall stayed with a girl until he grew bored with her. Then quickly moved on.

His hand went to her upper back and urged her closer. Tamara’s cheek pressed against pecs that were rounded with muscles. And—she couldn’t help noting—a perfect place for a woman to lay her head.

Good grief, what was wrong with her?

The second song ended, and Tamara slid her hands down Marshall’s arms and began to step backward. “Again, thank you for the dance,” Tamara said, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

She saw Marshall’s eyes widen with lust, and she had to inwardly smile. Yeah, she had his number. All a woman had to do was bat her eyelashes and give him a little bit of feminine charm, and he would eat it up.

“You’re leaving me already?” Marshall asked once she had maneuvered herself out of his arms.

“Fast song. And I have two left feet.” She smiled sweetly.

He came to stand beside her and leaned into her. “Let’s go to my table, then...to talk.”

“Thank you,” Tamara reiterated firmly. “The dance was nice.”

“But I haven’t even begun to get to know you.”

Tamara simply shrugged, then started to walk away.

Marshall fell into step beside her. “I see. You’re going to make me chase you.”

“Aren’t there some other attractive women here that you’d like to get to know?”

“The only woman I’m interested in getting to know here is you. Trust me on that.”

Tamara already knew his game. He liked a challenge. He had chased Gloria until she finally gave in, and once she had surrendered to him, that had been it. The thrill for Marshall had been gone.