TATIANA: Book Three; The Trouble Sisters Saga Page 8

  He let the pregnant silence between them lengthen, then murmured, “It’s true, you know. Even now, the memory of your scintillating fragrance sends my cock into high alert.”

  Tatiana was determined not to let him run erotic circles around her, but she was shocked at how his sexy assertions ignited her overwrought nerves. She struggled to regain her composure, and before she could stop them, the words that had been haunting her throughout the day sprang from her lips. “I . . . I’m reconsidering going to Tucson, Zane. A number of crises have flared at the Sanctuary. I think I need to send my partner in my place. She, Gretchen Samuels, knows as much about the issues as I do, maybe more. She . . . is a lawyer . . . and . . . it’s just that I . . . I think it’s inappropriate for me to be gone . . . right now . . . ” Unable to finish her sentence, she ground her words to a stop.

  Zane was quiet for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his certainty alarmed her. “I’m glad that you are merely considering changing your Tucson plans. I’m confident when you acknowledge that you are as brave a woman as I know you are, you will stand up to the fears that are wracking you. And when you do, you’ll decide that going to Tucson is precisely what you need—and want—to do.”

  “You don’t understand, Zane. This isn’t about you and me . . . Several critical issues have come up . . . I need to deal with them.”

  “I’m sure you do, Tatiana. Like me, you have a job that will always be filled with crises. But the biggest ‘crisis’ we both face, if you want to call it that, is admitting that I’m as hot for you as I’ve ever been for a woman. And, lovely lady, when you’re ready to admit it, you feel the same way about me.”

  Tatiana didn’t know what was more challenging, the fear threatening to choke her at his arrogant assertion or the wildly erotic sensations flooding her core.

  His sexy drawl confirmed the sensations would triumph. “What are you wearing, Tatiana?”

  At her shocked gasp, he said softly, “Tell me, sweetheart, and please tell me that whatever it is—that you aren’t wearing panties.”

  She managed to stutter, “No . . . I . . . I’m . . . not. I mean . . . I’m wearing a . . . a nightshirt, and no, I’m not wearing anything under it.”

  He blew out a triumphant whistle. “I’ll be damned. There is a God.”

  Not believing the sensations flooding her, Tatiana couldn’t suppress a breathless moan when he crooned, “That’s good, sweetheart, very good. What I want you to do now is to lean back. That’s the way, lovely woman. And while you’re leaning back, I want you to spread your legs. Mmm, yes, sweetheart, just like that. Now put your hand between your legs and feel the dew that is building on your intimate lips.” At her gasp, he groaned, a low, passionate sound. “Oh yeah, baby, just like that. And now, sweetheart, when you feel how your beautiful body is responding to my provocative words, I want you to remember why you are indeed going to Tucson.”

  Chapter 11

  Oh God, whatever made me think that I could pull this off?” Tatiana waved at the clothes on Tara’s bed with a heartfelt sigh. “A week ago the scariest thing I faced was delivering the keynote address at the annual Arizona Bar Association meeting. Which, by the way, is totally freaking me out. But I’d convinced myself that what I had to say was important for all of those lawyers to hear. Worse, I’d been foolish enough to think that my sturdy navy blue suit would suffice. Both for my keynote and the other activities.” Glaring at her sisters, she said, “Now you’re telling me that my one good suit is dowdy and that I need at least three smashing outfits, including a knockout dress for the opening dinner!”

  Tanya’s eyes sparkled. “Don’t forget outrageous underwear. What you are wearing under those clothes sure as hell better be stunningly provocative.”

  At Tatiana’s shriek, Tara moved next to her, throwing her brazen sister a warning glare. “Tanya’s teasing you, Tatiana. But she’s right. Things, important things, have changed since you accepted the Bar Association’s invitation. Before we go on to clothes, please remember what an honor it is that they invited you to keynote the conference. It is a huge acknowledgement of the groundbreaking things you are doing in the domestic violence arena.”

  When Tatiana managed to nod, Tara continued. “That said, sweetheart, things have changed, and in a big way. According to Griffin, Zane is chairing the opening dinner. Since you will be at the head table, and for that reason alone, you need to look smashing. In that Zane will be the ‘man of the hour,’ what you are wearing is of critical importance.” Pointing to her closet that was filled with beautiful clothes, she said, “Which is why, before you prance that gorgeous bod of yours out of here today, we are going to make sure that you have a wardrobe as spectacular as these next three days are certain to be.” Exchanging a wink with Tanya, she added, “But Tanya is correct. It’s not only the things that you wear in public that have to be sensational; your, um, private attire needs to be—shall we say, scintillating.”

  At Tanya’s agreeing whoop, Tatiana glared at them both. “It’s not as though I’m a complete, asexual ninny. Just because I haven’t been with a man in centuries doesn’t mean that I don’t like sexy underwear. In fact, my lingerie is the one bright spot in my otherwise pedestrian wardrobe. It’s my way of pretending that at some level I’m an attractive, even sexy, woman.”

  Tanya shook her head. “Stop, Tatiana. Do you think we don’t know who and what you are? Even living with a disgusting creep like Arnold didn’t diminish your allure. Which only confirms that you are a sensual woman to the core. Trust me, sis, the fact that one of the sexiest men I know is practically licking his chops at the thought of you only underscores that you have layers and layers of pent-up eroticism that even Arnold couldn’t extinguish.”

  Nodding at the abandoned clothes on the bed, she added with a snort, “But just know that neither Tara nor I are going to allow you to wear your dowdy blue suit or any of these other rejects you brought here. No, ma’am! If for no other reason than to make that Chloe Richards bitch even greener with envy, you are going wear clothes as sensational as you are. So let’s start with the keynote and then go on to the opening-night dinner.” Turning to Tara, she said, “Since you and Tatiana were both blessed with as many curves as I have, except that yours lounge on willowy, five-foot-seven-inch frames, what do you have that will make our beautiful redheaded sister the sensation of the conference?”

  Tara went to the closet and brought out an armload of dresses and suits. Depositing them in a heap on the bed, she laughed. “Can you believe these clothes? Good Lord, before I met Griffin, I had one sexy black dress and a closet full of jeans and tee shirts. Now I could outfit a high-end boutique. Every time he goes somewhere, Griffin brings me yet another gorgeous dress, or pants, or a jacket, et cetera. Many of them I haven’t had a chance to wear.” Before Tatiana could protest, Tara continued. “Tanya’s right. Our bodies are similar and what looks good on me will be fabulous on you. The only difference is our hair. We need to choose clothes that underscore your amazing red hair. For example, if it wasn’t so dowdy, your blue suit would be a good choice. It works with your hair. Building on that instead, let’s try one of these.”

  After she’d tried on at least five different outfits, Tatiana agreed that a tailored cobalt blue L’Autre Chose pantsuit with a stark white silk blouse was perfect for her keynote address. The professional but cleverly tailored jacket flared at her hips, emphasizing her impressive bustline and slender waist. The fitted pants made her long legs appear even longer. Tara insisted that she wear her patent leather ankle boots as a sophisticated aside to the ensemble. But the hit of their impromptu fashion show was the Emporio Armani fitted midi dress that Tara insisted she wear to the opening dinner event. Tara presented it to her with a flourish, as if she’d already decided it was the crème de la crème of her options. The dress had a relatively demur neckline, long sleeves, and a cunningly ruched design that hugged Tatiana’s curvy body. The fabric was an amalgamation of emerald green, purple, and bright blue sil
k, all of which underscored her gorgeous hair. Even Tatiana joined in her sister’s squeals of delight when she slipped it on and agreed that the stunningly simple but elegant dress was perfect for the opening dinner event.

  After they’d worked through Tara’s amazing selection of jewelry and chosen at least five ensembles that would work, Tatiana began to have second thoughts. Blowing out a hard sigh as she slipped on her everyday pantsuit and low-heeled shoes, she turned to her sisters and shook her head. “I’m sorry, but . . . I . . . I just don’t know if I can do this. These clothes are so not me. What am I going to do if later I decide to meet Zane at the B n’ T? Run over here and paw through your closet, Tara? Isn’t that more than a little weird? Besides, Zane has already seen me in wet shorts and a tee shirt when the children and I were having a water fight at the shelter. Given that . . . how can I possibly pull off clothes like this?”

  Tara was firm. “You can pull them off, Tatiana, because you are who you are. And while I have a sneaky feeing that those wet shorts and tee shirt have become a staple in your sexy guy’s erotic musings, you need to look spectacular at the conference.” She pointed to the gorgeous outfits they’d selected. “These are confidence clothes, Tatiana. You are the strongest, most accomplished woman I know. But you need a major-league boost of self-confidence to make sure you remember that. These beautiful outfits will make you feel as smashing as you look. As sensational as you are!”

  ****

  Walking through the hallway of the Ritz Carlton Hotel, Tatiana remembered Tara’s prescient advice. Without question, Tara was on target. Yes, she did need a booster shot of confidence and never more than now. Hovering in the entrance to the majestic ballroom, she seriously considered abandoning the dinner event and going back to her room. Dear God, how did she think that she could pull this off? When she’d arrived at the hotel, there was a message in her room from Zane indicating that he would meet her at the cocktail hour before the dinner. She’d managed to get dressed and was even pleased with her reflection in the mirror. But that had been in the safety of her hotel room. Now it was as though a shower of ice had crashed over her. It didn’t take a genie to see what had frozen her in place. It was impossible to miss him. He was standing across the crowded room, surrounded by well-wishers. He was truly the center of attention and, without a doubt, the sexiest, most handsome man she’d ever seen.

  It wasn’t just his impressive, forward-looking couture that fit his tall, lean frame to perfection. Of course, he didn’t bother with a tie. No self-respecting clotheshorse would wear a tie under his Tom Ford unstructured blazer. Not when he could wear an open-necked black and gray striped silk shirt and slim trousers topping outlandish, hand-tooled black cowboy boots. No, everything about the smiling man spoke to his confidence. It didn’t take the four-deep circle of men and women waiting to speak to him to confirm he was the star attraction.

  All of which made Tatiana wonder why the hell she was here. And it wasn’t the gloating Chloe Richards standing at his elbow that had Tatiana clinging to the doorframe. It was what Chloe was wearing that made the floor feel shaky under Tatiana’s feet.

  Compared to the smirking ADA’s sleeveless silver jumpsuit that had to have been sprayed on her voluptuous body, Tatiana’s dress, which had been declared perfect at Tara’s, now seemed almost matronly. Granted, Chloe’s outfit was eons more provocative than anything Tatiana would consider wearing, but to say it was attention grabbing was a gross understatement. As she was considering her options and forcing herself to breathe while she could, Zane met her gaze. Acknowledging it was too late to escape, she tried to smile but the effort was painful. Not one to pray for natural disasters, she found herself wishing that a haboob to end all haboobs would sweep through this upscale hotel in a wretched flurry of dust, making it possible for her to flee in the ensuing melee.

  Zane had been watching for her. Casting yet another glance at his watch, he saw that it was only two minutes since he’d last looked at it. The cocktail hour had been in full swing for more than an hour, and they were coming close to the time for the dinner to begin. He hadn’t heard from Tatiana since yesterday, when she’d texted confirming that yes, she was coming to the conference. While he was certain she wouldn’t back out on her keynote address, he wasn’t as sanguine about her attending this evening’s events. He could only imagine the excuses she could have for being late. After all, she’d told him that she was facing a number of crises at the Sanctuary, and she did have two small children. He also knew she was concerned about his insistence that she was his dinner guest and that he had arranged for her to sit next to him. In his gut, Zane knew those concerns paled in comparison to her fears about his after-dinner agenda. Hell, he admitted, even he was a little anxious about the rendezvous he’d promised her. He knew she had to be uneasy, even frightened. But that was before he saw her in the entrance to the ballroom. The look of pure terror ravaging her beautiful face before she’d even entered the room confirmed that as arrogant as he was, he more than had his work cut out for him.

  At that moment, Chloe pressed against him. With an annoyed flick of his fingers, he shook off her arm and met Tatiana’s challenged smile with a grin of his own. Striding across the room, attendees parting in his path, he was at her side in mere seconds. Reaching for her hand, he tugged her up next to him, then leaned down and bussed her cheek. She flushed a lovely rosy color that only made her more beautiful. Not letting her pull away, he murmured, “Thank you, Tatiana. I didn’t know how much longer I could wait before calling out the National Guard and instituting a search-and-rescue mission.” At her startle, he chuckled. “But I didn’t have to do that, did I? You came, as you said you would, no matter how many times you tried to convince yourself that you shouldn’t.”

  Still holding her hand, he stepped back to survey her, then whistled softly. “Damn, woman. You are gorgeous. That is a beautiful dress.”

  To his surprise, she blurted, “It’s not mine.” She tried to pull back, obviously horrified at the words that had sprung from her lips. Clearly doing her best to recover, she added, “It’s Tara’s.”

  Zane managed to cover his surprise and said with a shrug, “Tell you what. I’ll buy it from her. While I’m sure it would look good on your sister, the couture gods truly made that dress for you, Tatiana.” He nodded as if in confirmation. “Only your gorgeous hair could do justice to that exotic rainbow of color. Not to mention how it cleverly ensures that every inch of your stunning body is shown to perfection. The only thing more enticing than the beautiful dress is the woman who is wearing it.” He flashed an unrepentant wink and murmured, “Not to mention how much I’m looking forward to stripping it off you, eager to unveil the treasures beneath.”

  Chapter 12

  Watching Zane stride confidently across the stage, the clearly enthralled audience laughing in delight at his irreverent jibes, Tatiana was in awe. And, she admitted, more than a little intimidated. If she’d ever seen a speaker capture his audience, it was Zane. His expected lawyer jokes were hilarious and brought down the house. After humorously calling out a number of the most officious members of the elite audience and laying out the goals for their symposium, he ended with a nod to the questionable approbations their profession had earned from writers, thinkers, and disapproving moralists. Relying on a well-known anonymous quip and nodding to Judge McEnroe, the chief justice of the Arizona Supreme Court, he said, “As we all know, a good lawyer knows the law, but a great lawyer knows the judge.” Waiting for the laughter to subside, he added, “But hell, as Charles Dickens said, ‘If there were no bad people, there would be no good lawyers.’ ”

  He added more seriously, “However, looking at our agenda for tomorrow, I was struck by our keynote speech. Ms. Tatiana Trouble, our speaker, is thankfully not a lawyer. It allows her a perspective that many of us, if not most, would miss. Domestic violence, the focus of her address, is a repulsive blot on our society. It’s also an issue on which we lawyers badly need to be educated and challenged. Ms.
Trouble’s cause, which should concern us all, reminds me of Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor’s challenge to her fellow jurists, ‘We educated, privileged lawyers have a professional and moral duty to represent the underrepresented in our society and to ensure that both legal and economic justice exists for us all.’ ” He paused for effect, then added, “If that didn’t prick your conscience, perhaps Robert Kennedy’s caution will. Before he was assassinated, our former US attorney general declared, ‘Lawyers have their duties as citizens, but they also have special duties as lawyers. Their obligations go far deeper than earning a living as specialists in corporate, criminal, or tax law. They have a continuing responsibility to uphold the fundamental principles of justice from which the law cannot depart.’ ”

  Zane was solemn for a moment, then added, a disarming grin splitting his face, “But not to step too far out of character and rather than end on a challenging note, I’ll close with an observation from one of my favorite speakers of truth to power, the inimitable Zsa Zsa Gabor, who said, ‘I have learned that divorce lawyers, not diamonds, are a girl’s best friend.’ ”

  In the thunderous applause that followed, Zane fought his way through the crowd of eager fans, all of whom were determined to press the flesh with their acknowledged superstar. Given that Zane had specifically referred to her upcoming keynote, some of the crowd that couldn’t get through to Zane headed for Tatiana. Rising above her usual reticence, Tatiana engaged the interested questioners as the accomplished, invested expert that she was.

  She shouldn’t have been as shocked as she was when Chloe Richards spoke loudly enough to be overheard by Tatiana and the attendees surrounding her. “I don’t know about you, Judge McEnroe, but it’s hard for me to take seriously the everyday experiences of a spa owner as legally significant. Frankly, I prefer juried research that has been tested by professionals who at the very least have passed the bar.”