Designing Berlin

Designing Berlin By Shara Azod

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright© 2008 Shara Azod- Designing Berlin Cover Artist: Shara Azod All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. This is a work of fiction. All references to real places, people, or events are coincidental, and if not coincidental, are used fictitiously. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

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Dedication For Rolanda

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Chapter One Berlin frowned as she followed the directions her brand new navigation system gave her. Remote locations were one thing, but this was freaking ridiculous. Who knew West Virginia was full of mountains? Okay, maybe a lot of people did; but damn it, she hadn’t had time to investigate the landscape before heading out in search of “Uniquely American” designers. She shouldn’t have been on this trip at all. Her devoted assistant, Betty, had come down with the flu at the last minute, leaving Berlin to go check out the designs herself. Judging by the rugged rustic landscape and sparse housing, this designer was obviously a recluse. Who lived this far away from civilization? As the head buyer at Femme, the most exclusive department store in the eastern United States and Canada, Berlin had worked hard to get to where she was. She had offices in Miami, Jacksonville, Atlanta, Boston, Philadelphia, and New York. But not in Bumblefuck, West Virginia. She had been a major advocate for the “Uniquely American” promotion. The idea was to find designers outside of Los Angeles and New York and upscale them so to speak. The clothing line would be designed and produced only in America by stateside designers specializing in Americana; and after a few months of being sold exclusively in American stores for American women, the line would be sold internationally. The goal was to create something unique, something sexy, yet practical for the real bodies of real women. Too many demanded fine clothes for more voluptuous figures. She had managed to sign up three hot new designers so far—one from Atlanta with a unique kind of neo-soul style with a funky twist; one from Kansas who had a country edge with leather and textiles that were sexy and daring; and one from Wisconsin who incorporated fleece and twill in fun flirtatious ways. Generally, Betty would vet them, flying out to their home bases and bringing back examples she thought Berlin would approve. But 4

with Betty sick, there was only one other person Berlin trusted to make these trips—herself. So here she was on a trek through the snow-covered mountains of West Virginia, going to see a woman who liked to mix Native-American designs with something indefinable. The pictures of designs from Mattie Mae Hartsfield of Somewhere, West Virginia touched Berlin in a way she hadn’t been since her first Vera Wang gown. Sure, she had to starve herself to get in the damn thing; seemed Vera definitely didn’t understand the dimensions of the modern African-American woman. On the other hand, good old Mattie Mae captured the imagination; her designs could be worn by women of many different body types without being based on a mu’umu’u or a sarong. It was astounding the way her designs understood a woman’s body, be that body full of curves, devoid of curves, or somewhere in between. Berlin had been excited she’d be the one to actually see the woman and designs herself, until the road got longer and the snow started falling harder. To her chagrin, Berlin had blown past a sad little town a few minutes ago, figuring Mattie Mae Hartsfield would live right outside of it. Apparently not. Berlin just hoped and prayed she would get to the woman’s house before she ran out of gas completely, or the damn snow that seemed to fall quite a bit steadier than when she had set out turned into a blizzard. A quick side glance at the GPS showed she was on the right road, though calling this expanse of hard-packed dirt a “road” was a bit of a stretch. Abruptly the car swerved a bit too much, forcing Berlin to cut the wheel to the right. Unfortunately, the tires failed to find purchase when she tried to straighten out once more. The car tumbled front first into a snowpacked ditch. Thankfully, there was enough snow to cushion the crash, but Berlin found she couldn’t back out of the ditch. When she tried to gun the engine, she just dug the tires deeper and deeper into the snow. The only way she 5

could think of getting out was to physically push the vehicle, and the odds of her pushing the heavy SUV out of a ditch covered in snow was slim to none. Well, none, considering she wasn’t about to wallow through the growing drift mounds and try to push this heavy-ass car. “Damn it all to hell!” Berlin muttered, banging her hand against the steering wheel. She would have to get out and try to make her way by foot, but whether she should try to make her way to the unknown Ms. Hartsfield’s home or back to the town she’d passed ten minutes ago was the ultimate question. The boots Berlin wore were definitely not snow boots, and she had no idea what the terrain up ahead was like, so she opted to go back towards the town. Making matters worse, her cell phone didn’t have a signal, which meant she really didn’t have a choice but to try and find help. She regretted not springing the extra hundred dollars for the rental with OnStar. If Berlin were lucky, there would be a car or truck headed in the same direction. Not very likely, but it could happen. About three minutes into her trek, she realized this was a huge mistake. She should have stayed in the car and set off the alarm rather than try to trudge her way to town. Her boots, while fashionable, were not made to walk in the wet snow. Ice water seeped into the cracks and crevices, leaving her feet burning from cold. Her stylish pea coat matched her outfit to perfection, but it was nowhere near as warm and weather-ready as it should be. As the snow fell heavy on the faux-wool fabric, it melted and seeped into her very bones. After no longer than ten minutes, Berlin’s teeth were chattering and she could barely lift one foot in front of the other. It was by sheer force of will she managed to continue. There was no way in hell she was going to die here by the side of the road, lost in West Virginia. She would never live that one down.

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“Of course you wouldn’t, idiot,” she chided herself. “You’d be dead.” The indignity of it all. To claw her way to the top of her profession only to be foiled by weather. That was not how she planned to go out. No way, no how. There was too much she wanted to do with her life. Berlin wanted to get married…maybe. She definitely wanted to have at least one child. And just once, she wanted to know what it was like to fall in love. Not the fly-by-night casual relationships she’d had up to this point. She wanted the kind of love she’d only read about in her electronic library. They were her own guilty little secret, the erotic e-books she bought by the dozens, but there was something about the characters in them that called to her. She wanted an all-encompassing love, a raging passion that couldn’t be denied. Therefore, she couldn’t possibly die now, not without ever really feeling more than a passing fondness for someone. She was so engrossed in her mental pep talk, she didn’t hear anyone drive up behind her. In fact, she didn’t notice she was no longer alone until she was literally swept off her feet into very large, very capable arms. She would have fought off the bear that handled her, but she couldn’t move, far too numb with cold. She couldn’t see much of her abductor; the man (it had to be a man to be that big) was swathed in clothing. The only thing she could see was eyes, piercing, glittering deep-blue eyes. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, Berlin thought to herself as her scream froze in her throat. Damn it, it hurt to even think about talking, much less screaming. Then she promptly passed out. Matthew Hartsfield, Matty to the few friends he had left, looked down at the woman he held. Absolutely stunning. His breath hitched at the sight of her. And they said angels didn’t fly this low to earth and in this 7

weather. They were wrong. In his arms, he clutched a fallen one tight to his chest. Judging by the useless coat and the boots designed for looks rather than practicality, he guessed she was a long way from home. He’d been gathering firewood for the coming blizzard when he heard the unmistakable sound of a car skidding into a ditch. Seeing as he had the only cabin this far up the mountain, well, the only cabin anyone would dare to visit, Matty had figured whoever had driven into a ditch was coming to see him. He’d waited for a few minutes, to see if the person could make his way out of his predicament. But when the person didn’t, Matty had headed out to search. The last thing he’d expected was a woman, obviously from big city somewhere, half frozen to death. “Well, hell,” Matty muttered, shifting his burden and plodding back to his truck. There was no help for it; he was stuck with her, whoever she was. Somehow that knowledge didn’t annoy him as much as he thought it should. Carefully placing her in the passenger seat, he took his time buckling the seatbelt across her breasts. He tried to steady his gaze on inserting the metal buckle, but he couldn’t resist looking at her. Her head lolled to the side and luxuriant hair brushed across her face, making her look all the more tousled and all the more alluring. He wanted to kiss her lips, lick the melting snow from their plumpness. Instead, he ran a gloved thumb across them. I’m shouldn’t be thinking thoughts about fallen angels like this. A slip of melted snow shot down his back, reminding him a blizzard was building around him. Cold urgency shoved his heated thoughts to the side and he zipped around to the driver’s side. Stealing one more delicious glance at his passenger, Matty shifted the truck into drive and made his way back to his cabin. The radio had warned the blizzard would last at least a day, maybe two. It would take at least a week to get the road clear. He was stuck 8

with an unwanted guest for at least a week, perhaps two. Something stirred from deep within him, a rattling of untruth. Beside him, the woman wasn’t unwanted—perhaps uninvited, but not unwanted. He knew it. Oh, yes, he definitively wanted the woman beside him; and if his swelling phallus were any indication, it wasn’t just for chatting and socializing. Matty had to be honest with himself, though. From the looks of her, she wasn’t used to roughing it, as it were. Luckily, his cabin was large—it was actually a two-story log house—but the electricity was bound to go out, and his generator would warm no more than his bathroom and bedroom. He didn’t dare tax it more than that. There was a fireplace in the den; he never used the living room; and the kitchen was equipped with both a modern range and a wood-burning stove for times such as these. Upon reaching his spread, he lifted his unconscious guest from the truck and carried her inside. His hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they drew to her round buttocks as if her behind were a magnet. He fought the impulse to stroke and cup her cheeks, rubbing across their plumpness until she moaned awake. But the reality was his body heat wasn’t going to be enough to save her. Setting her on the settee in front of the massive fireplace in the den, Matty stood back to look at her. She had a beautiful face. Flawless, smooth sepia-colored skin had begun to take on an unhealthy pallor; and lips that at any other time probably could have been described as sensuous were taking on a decidedly blue tinge. He could see by the muscle movement in her cheeks that her teeth were starting to chatter. He had to get the sodden clothes off her now. Grabbing a thick blanket from the couch behind the settee, he bent down and peeled her boots and socks off her feet. “Sorry, lady,” he muttered as he began to strip her as quickly as he could. 9

Matty would probably burn in hell for the thoughts about the fallen angel that rushed his brain while revealing each inch of flesh to his gaze as he went about his task. He tried not to notice, but how was a healthy, heterosexual adult male not supposed to notice the dainty, narrow feet and the bright-pink nail polish on each tiny toe? That particular shade of polish should have looked garish against the rich-brown tones of her skin, but it didn’t. In fact, those little toes appeared downright kissable. Slipping off the wide-leg linen slacks revealed shapely legs. Her calves were perfectly toned, smooth and soft to the touch. Thighs that were thick without being fat, were also smooth and toned. He forced himself not to look toward her crotch. Matty shifted uncomfortably. He hadn’t stopped to take off the multiple layers of clothing he wore. Now the combination of those clothes, the fire at his back, and the sexy little package he was unwrapping had him sweating like a whore in church. Removing the ineffectual coat she had on was a bit more of a challenge, but he managed without jostling her too much. Underneath, she wore a silk wraparound shirt that was soaked. He had to lift her slightly to untie it in the back. “Holy Mother!” He let out the soft exclamation as he looked down at his mystery woman. Yeah. Mine. She belongs to me! Pure white cups of lace pushed up her breasts that threatened to spill out of their confinements. His eyes wandered down to the very place he had sworn he wouldn’t look to witness lacy scrap covering her honey pot. Sweet Lord, have mercy! She was almost as smooth down there as she was on her legs. Blood raced to Matty’s cock, making it pound painfully. His hands jerked his scarf, overcoat, and jacket off his body. Suddenly the clothing was too damn hot—too hot by far. Before Matty knew what he was doing, his hand was rubbing his painful erection through his jeans.

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“What the hell are you doing?” he asked himself with disgust, covering her with the blanket. Had it been that long that he was ready to jerk himself off while watching an unconscious woman he was supposed to be helping? He tried to remember the last time he’d had sex or any kind physical contact with a woman. Had it really been five years ago that he’d had moved into what used to be his summer retreat? Damn, it had. Five years since he’d left Los Angeles, walking away from a red-hot career and a gorgeous fiancée. Matty just couldn’t take it anymore, all the plastic people smiling in his face. It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle the pressure. He thrived under pressure. It was the nasty undercurrent, the false friends, the soulless relationships he couldn’t stand. Had he been left alone to create and only deal with his clients, it would have been fine. But Matty had allowed himself to be sucked into the L.A. lifestyle, even going so far as to get engaged to a brainless starlet who cared about little else than money and being seen. It’d been killing him inside, his creativity giving way to empty construction without depth, without character. So he’d left. Other than going into town for supplies, Matty hadn’t really had contact with much of anyone except his accountant in New York and his best friend Davis Grady, who was currently a town sheriff somewhere in South Carolina. Like Matty, Davis had gotten tired of the fast lane and moved back home. He had given up his life as a high-priced, high-powered attorney for the nice slow life of a lazy southern town. Matty knew Davis understood why he’d come home to West Virginia, even if that did mean any sexual gratification usually came from Rosy Palm and her five sisters. But if the angels were with him, Rosy was about to get a break. Matty’s eyes swept over the delicious woman before him and he suppressed another urge to rub his aching member.

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Taking a deep breath, Matty gathered his fallen clothes, as well as his visitor’s. He hung them in the kitchen, and then went to draw a warm bath. She hadn’t been exposed long enough to catch more than a cold as long as he got her temperature up soon. Hopefully, she would come around and tell him what the hell she was doing up here in the mountains. Matty stared into the tub’s depths and knew it didn’t matter, really, why she’d come. He didn’t want her to leave. Maybe if he could collect his senses long enough not to pounce on her, she’d tell him how she’d come into his life and how, without whispering a word, she’d practically stolen his heart.

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Chapter Two Berlin sighed, shuddering against something wet. She had been so cold, colder than she could ever remember being before. Smiling, she stretched her body as the water lapped gently against her skin. Water? Her eyes snapped opened and she bolted upright, finding herself in luxuriating bubbles of warmth. Wide-eyed, Berlin stared straight into the same clear blue eyes she had seen right before she had passed out. Only now she could see the entire face of her kidnapper. Dark, well-defined eyebrows and thick, equally dark lashes framed those eyes. There was a five o’clock shadow covering strong jaws, and his nicely chiseled face was saved from being too beautiful by a small scar cutting through his left eyebrow. A deep indent in his left cheek suggested a dimple. Thick, curly auburn hair flowed to his shoulders. Why would any guy who looked like that need to kidnap a helpless, stranded woman? Surely he could get plenty of women, even here in the middle of nowhere. “There are people looking for me,” she warned in a clear, stern voice. Every brain cell was screaming she should be terrified, yet she couldn’t even claim to be the slightest bit scared. Those blue eyes contained kindness, and that alone disarmed her terror. Each blink of his wonderful eyes chipped away at her fear, rendering it down to nothing. Sure, she had wanted to scream when he had first grabbed her, but that was more being startled than being frightened. It made absolutely no sense. How could she know he was kind? He’d kidnapped her, after all. What if this “nice guy” thing was a ploy to get her to trust him? Even still, when her eyes met his once more, those windows to the soul revealed a gentleness she didn’t think a 13

kidnapper could convey. It puzzled her that she felt completely safe with this mountain man. “I sure as hell hope so,” the mysterious man muttered, heaving to his feet. Damn! Berlin mentally gasped. He was truly a mountain of a man, standing at what had to be six-five, maybe even six-six, all hard, compacted muscle. He wore a pair of jeans that seemed to love his ass and legs, judging by the way it hugged them, and his plaid shirt was unbuttoned and hung open. His chest was well defined with rock-hard abs and not a sign of any hair. Although it was the height of winter, his skin held a light golden bronze hue. His nipples were deep copper and standing at attention. Berlin couldn’t help but lick her lips as she thought about teasing them with her tongue. Whoa! No thinking about doing the kidnapper! Wait, what did he just say? “Are you hoping to get a ransom or something?” she demanded incredulously. The mountain man frowned and returned to the side of the…where the hell was she? She looked around and realized she was in a tub, a very big tub, with her head resting against an incredibly soft, fluffy towel. Well, he was a big man; of course he would have a big tub. Hold up! Did he undress her while she was passed out? Looking down, Berlin noticed she still had on her underwear; a quick mental inventory indicated she hadn’t been violated. That disappointed her a bit, but she smashed that traitorous thought down quickly. Yet that was another point that escaped logic. Why would he literally drag her off the road to his lair or wherever the heck she was; strip her down to her bra and panties; and put her in a tub? The cold, dumb ass, she mentally castigated herself. So you wouldn’t catch pneumonia or frostbite.

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This guy wasn’t some kind of mad mountain freak; he had saved her from killing herself trying to get to town. She was damned lucky he’d come along and found her when he did. He had even kept on her underwear to preserve her modesty, such as it was. The sheer white silk and lace was seethrough now that it was wet. She could clearly see her dark nipples through the material, as well as outline of her pussy lips. “I’m sorry,” Berlin muttered as the man came closer. “I thought…I thought…” “You thought I kidnapped you?” the man asked and laughed, kneeling beside her. Those blue eyes twinkling with amusement angered her. Nothing about this was funny. “Yeah, well, what was I supposed to think? You literally plucked me off the road and I wake up here, in a bathtub!” Berlin couldn’t look at him. She gave up a silent prayer of thanks for her dark complexion. It camouflaged her burning cheeks beautifully. The flush didn’t come from being exposed like this. Nope, it came from the hungry thoughts racing through her. With him so close, all she could do was hope he didn’t touch her. If he did, she’d come undone. “Well, I’ll be damned,” the man whispered in awe. “I do believe you’re blushing.” The deep, smooth voice with such a slow, lazy drawl sent little chills down her spine despite the warm water. “Berlin Jameson,” she introduced herself, extending her right hand. She bit her cheek to keep from scampering out of the tub and into his lap. “Matthew Hartsfield,” the man, replied taking her hand in his much larger one. Berlin immediately perked up, bolting upright in the tub again. “Hartsfield? Any relation to Mattie Mae Hartsfield?”

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Oh, please, please, please, let her be his mother, Berlin silently pleaded. She wasn’t sure why, but it just might break her heart if the ultrafine Matthew was married. It was wild; she generally didn’t find white men attractive, but there were exceptions. He was definitively a big exception. Even if she weren’t sitting in a tub full of water, she would be wet from his voice alone, never mind his drop-dead sexy looks. “Mattie Mae Hartsfield? How did you hear that name?” Matthew demanded. His heart stopped at her question. Mattie Mae had been his exclusive clothing line he sold from his boutique shop on Rodeo Drive. He’d named it after his grandmother who had raised him after his parents had been killed in a car accident when he was six. She had taught him to design and sew, always saying a man knew what looked good a woman far better than a woman could. Matty didn’t exactly agree, but he’d been damn good at what he did. After college, he’d been accepted into a premier design school in Paris. Soon after graduating from there, he’d headed to L.A.; and within three years, he’d become a clothier to the stars. Fame and fortune had come easily, too easily. He had fallen into a decadent lifestyle, forgetting who he was and where he came from until his grandmother’s death. He had left Mattie Mae Clothiers behind and everything it stood for. There had been plenty of up and coming designers who would have gladly bought his by-appointment exclusive design boutique from him, but he’d wanted it to die. It wouldn’t be right to sell out to someone else, to have anyone but him designing clothes under his grandmother’s name. His fiancée hadn’t understood that. All she cared about was the fame and the fortune. Thank the fates above he had found that out before saying, “I do.” If this woman had hunted him down in hopes he would design for over-privileged, self-absorbed stars again, she was bound to be disappointed.

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God, he didn’t want to disappoint her. Even the thought of her lovely face shadowed by unhappiness irritated him. Looking down at her again, the hard-on he had finally lost came rushing back so quickly, it left him slightly dizzy. He would love to design for that body. Unlike the sickly stick figures in L.A., this woman Berlin had curves for days. Full, bountiful breasts; nice, thick thighs; a tapered waist made for the span of a man’s hands. Oh, the things he could dress her in, only to have the pleasure of undressing her once more. “Pictures of your designs were sent to my office for consideration,” Berlin answered, shivering under the intensity of his stare. She felt her nipples harden as his gaze caressed them. In any other circumstance she would have been pissed, but not with him, not now. His concentrated perusal made her feel sexy, completely feminine. He better not be hiding a wife somewhere. Berlin might have to take the woman out, even though she usually wasn’t down for the home-wrecking scene. “What? I never sent any pictures to anyone. Who do you represent?” Matthew asked, bringing Berlin back to the present and her eyes up from his crotch. “I am the head buyer for Femme,” Berlin answered, fidgeting now from his stare. “And unless you’re Mattie Mae Hartsfield, why would you know about it?” Damn it! He was married. It just wasn’t fair. It wasn’t often she got the hots for anyone these days, and the one man who rang her bell, without even touching her much less, was taken. There ought to be some kind of law against shit like this. “Mattie Mae was my store in L.A. I closed it five years ago. Seeing as how the real Mattie Mae Hartsfield died around that time, I would say I would know all about who was sending around pictures of my designs,” Matthew informed her. “At least I should.” 17

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Berlin murmured, confusion riding those words as they left her mouth. Someone had most certainly sent in pictures of this man’s designs. But who would do that? A wife. That would be the only person who would dare do such a thing. Probably tired of living in the middle of nowhere, especially if they used to live in the middle of the bright lights of Hollywood. “My grandmother lived a full and happy life,” he informed her. “But thank you for the condolences.” “Maybe your wife?” Berlin offered, holding her breath and hoping he didn’t have one. Really, she wanted to know if he were married far more than she wanted to know who had sent in the pictures. “Oh, I’m not married.” Matthew smiled, no, more like leered at her. His eyes dropped to her breasts once again, and damned if she didn’t stick out her chest just a little. It might have been a little…forward; but hey, she was single, as he had just confirmed he was too. Even if they did work out a deal about his line, it wasn’t as if she would be working with him. She bought the clothes and signed up the designers. The production, marketing, et cetera, would be done in their respective departments. She’d be in the wind long before those clothes hit the stores, and he would be good stock for her fantasies. “I have no idea who sent the photos, but I would like to talk to you…” “No.” It was said with such firm conviction. Berlin blinked, unbelieving what she had heard. He surged to his feet once more, turning his back on her. She could see the tension gathering in his shoulders. Odd how she should notice that. She had never been particularly astute with any of her past boyfriends—all three of them.

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Going over to a large oak cabinet, he withdrew another towel, then returned and handed it to her. “That water has probably gotten a little chilly. I’ll go wrestle up something for you to wear. And with that he was gone.

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Chapter Three Matty had to get out of the bathroom. As confused as he was about how Berlin had gotten pictures of his designs, the fact she was just sitting there in a soaked bra and panties that left nothing to the imagination was just too much. He couldn’t recall ever feeling as turned on as he was by Berlin, a woman who seemed totally oblivious to her almost unreal sexual appeal. Those perky little nipples were practically begging him to cover them with his mouth. A few more minutes and he would have come on himself. Rummaging through his clothes, he found a nice, comfy, flannel plaid shirt for her to wear and some nice, thick socks. It was the best he could do. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He just couldn’t bring himself to offer up a pair of his sweats, because once those sweats hid her gorgeous legs from view, he’d be itching to rip them off again. Making his way back to the bathroom, he was glad to see her wrapped up nice and tight in the large towel. At least she was covered. Unfortunately, he happened to catch a glimpse of her bra and panties clutched in her fist. “I, uh, need to hang these up somewhere.” There went that blush again. Matty’s cock twitched in response. The higher her blush went, the taller his member grew. She was naked as the day she was born underneath that towel. A wicked little seed of a thought took root in his brain, refusing to let go. A grin split his face before he could stop it. “Just hang them on the side of the tub,” he informed her and refused to look away as she did so. “Ms. Jameson, are you married or otherwise attached?” There was no ring on her finger, and he doubted she was married. If she had a boyfriend, well… “No, why?” 20

She took a tiny step backwards as he advanced to where she stood. Matty watched in fascination as her chest heaved in agitation the closer he got. He could have just told her he was trying to get to the cream behind her, but he decided not to. It was kind of fun to hear the way her breathing hitched, to watch the goose bumps break out across her shoulders and down her arms. Her eyes darted from him to the door. If he’d thought for one second she was seriously afraid, he would have let up. She was excited. Scarlet heat crept up her neck and across her cheeks. Yeah, she was excited and very aware of him. He didn’t know how he knew, but he did. “I mean, yes! Yes, I have a boyfriend! He is waiting for my call, probably.” She was cute when she was lying through her teeth. Her face was all flushed in an interesting mixture of reds and browns. Her defiant little chin lifted, her eyes going from the raging boner he didn’t even bother hiding back to his face. He almost groaned aloud when he saw the way she squeezed her legs together. Good sign. He stopped a millisecond before touching her. She had pluck; he’d give her that. She’d almost managed to suppress the flinch when he reached past her. He wished like hell he could see her nipples, to see if they were half as hard as she was making him. Reaching beyond her slightly trembling form he grabbed the expensive skin cream on the shelf right behind her. He had no clue where the idea had come from, but he had the sudden urge to make sure that soft, supple skin stayed nice and smooth. He didn’t know whether she would slap him across the face, but he was going to try anyway. “Come on,” Matty told her, taking the clothes he had brought in for her with him. He didn’t bother turning around to see if she followed. He could feel her moving behind him. It was peculiar, yet he’d known instinctively she would come if he told her to, but not if he had asked. It was downright 21

strange the way he could guess what she wanted to hear, what she needed to hear from him. He couldn’t explain it, but he needed to make sure she got exactly what she needed. It was suddenly important to him to see this woman satisfied. Now you’re just being fanciful, Matty boy, he thought to himself, but going directly toward the bed anyway. It had been a long time since he’d last been with a woman. That had to be it. But then, it wasn’t like he hadn’t had opportunities to be with a woman in the last five years. Sally Jessup had done everything short of raping him. It had gotten to the point where he would actually go into hiding whenever she came calling. The last time he was in town, he had stopped in to the local bar to knock back a few with some of the guys he had grown up with and Sally had been there. He had to practically peel the woman off him. Funny that though Sally was a looker with clear blue eyes and nice set of mammary glands, Matty had never even managed to get semi-hard when she’d been so bold as to stroke him at the bar in front of God and everybody else. He had actually been repulsed. Then there was Sandy Duncan who had spent the first three years since he moved back here baking him pies and bringing them by at least once a week. Sandy was far more subtle than Sally, but equally as good looking in an understated way. Her eyes were a deep soulful brown that tended to remind him of a lost pup. He couldn’t imagine fucking a woman who looked up at him like a damn dog. He had begun thinking he was suffering from erectile dysfunction or something. Now here he was, dying to bury himself balls deep in this woman before him. “Have a seat,” he told her, sitting on the edge of his custom-made bed and patting the spot next to him.

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Berlin swallowed hard as she looked at the massive bed on which the mountain man sat. That was no California king; that was a bed made for a giant. Yeah, he was a big guy, but not that damn big. Then again, the devastatingly handsome designer reeked sex appeal; he probably had orgies in that bed. Just the thought had her burning with a mixture of unaccountable jealousy and equally hot desire she didn’t really understand. No one else should be stroking those massive arms but me! It was one thing to lust after a hot guy, but what she was feeling went a little beyond simple yearning. She couldn’t sit on that bed; if she did, she would be all over him. There was no way in hell she was going to ho-out like that. Biting her lip, Berlin shifted her weight from one foot to another, pressing her thighs together once again and trying to alleviate the ache between them. “Berlin?” She jumped at the sound of her own name. Damn, he had a slow, sexy drawl! “Yes, Matthew?” “Actually, you can call me Matty,” he said and grinned. Why did he suddenly remind her if a wolf about to take down his prey? Devour me, Matty. One slow second at a time. “Sit down, honey.” His voice was so low, silky, and commanding. Berlin found herself sitting before she realized it. She almost jumped out of her skin when he reached down and guided her foot up to his lap. Opening the jar of cream, he applied a liberal amount on her foot and began to massage it into her skin. Berlin had to concentrate on keeping her thighs firmly clenched together so he wouldn’t see anymore than he already had. Like it mattered what he saw. Each time he looked at her, she felt as if he’d physically caressed her. Her entire body sang with want and she could barely quiet her longing. She 23

managed to keep it together through the expert massage of both feet, both claves, both thighs, and both arms. Berlin thought he was finished, reaching to the bundle on his other side and anxious to run into the bathroom and cover up, but he snagged her wrist before she reached her goal. “Lie down on your stomach,” Matty instructed, patting the bed once more. The second she complied, she regretted it. With one swift tug, he had the towel pulled down to her lower back. She couldn’t move without exposing damn near everything. “Here.” Matty handed her a pillow. “Go ahead and relax. You had a trying day. Let me help put you at ease.” Berlin was grateful for the pillow. It gave her something to bite other than her lip. His big hands felt so good kneading the muscles of her back. She tried to stay rigidly aware, not to loosen up so she could stop him if he got a little too personal with her body. But Matty was so masterful in the way he worked her muscles. Everything that had gone wrong in the last week— Betty getting sick; she crashing the car in the middle of Nowhere, West Virginia; the blizzard—all of it just melted away. She was so lost in the sensual pleasure his hands were bringing her, she didn’t notice that he was wandering up her ribcage to the sides of her breasts and down to the upper part of her buttocks. Berlin couldn’t stop the moan that came from the back of throat. Lord, it felt so good! She couldn’t bring herself to complain when his hands got a little bolder, cupping her ass in a strong grip and squeezing her generous globes before traveling up her sides to fully cup her breasts. And damn if she didn’t raise herself up, just a little, to ease his way. What the hell was she doing? Berlin didn’t know this man from Adam, and yet here she was, lying here like a ten-dollar hooker, letting him 24

play with whatever he wanted. And goodness if didn’t feel beyond good. It felt right. She was so wet right now that she wouldn’t need any further foreplay. Ready and well passed the point of willing, Berlin struggled to not make it easy. What had started out as a massage was quickly becoming a full-out sensual assault. She had been conquered before she knew what was happening. How long could a blizzard last? A day, maybe? If Matty wanted to take her, and by the way he was working her body right now, he definitely did, Berlin was more than willing to let him. She might regret it later, but she only had to be here as long as the snow fell. Things might be uncomfortable for a while, but he’d already said he wasn’t interested in designing for Femme. As long as she was careful, she didn’t really have to see him after this little interlude, right? She could let go a little; she was grown. Who was she kidding? She was going to sleep with him regardless. Every tingling, aching, burning fiber of her body spoke to that truth. Berlin only hoped she wouldn’t wish she hadn’t after it was over. Why she was wasting time trying to justify what she knew was going to happen? Yeah, she might be remorseful about it. She was definitely going to feel weird about it because afterwards she had every intention of talking him into designing for her. And then he lightly bit her ass. He actually bit her ass! An animalistic growl tore itself from her mouth into the heated air. All of the muscles in her body tensed at his bite and her breasts protested. They wanted to be nipped too! All her nerve endings became hypersensitive as she tooted her butt up for him to do again. Instead, she felt slow, wet kisses tracing up her spine. When his breath brushed against her ear, she gave into the rippling blanket of lust that covered her. His bare skin met hers, and its heat amplified her body’s flame to an inferno. Hot and wet, Berlin only wanted one thing— for Matty to put out the fire he started. 25

Then he growled in his ear. “Turn around, sweetheart.”

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Chapter Four Matty really didn’t mean to go this far. He had planned on teasing her a little, maybe some aggressive foreplay, but he couldn’t hold back. There was something about Berlin that had him so desperate, he couldn’t contain it. He almost wept in with grateful relief when she turned her body, baring herself to him. Shrugging off his shirt, he was out of his jeans in record time, all without breaking eye contact. He was terrified that at any second she would come to her senses and run screaming from the room. He couldn’t have that; he had to have this woman. Perfection. Her dark skin appeared edible framed against the lightbeige down comforter. She looked like she belonged there. He couldn’t help but lean back and drink in the sight. She was all hills and valleys, delicious feminine curves. He could spend eternity exploring all her hidden delights. She had the most mouth-watering full breasts, all natural, perky, and standing straight up, begging for attention. Her hips were just right for hanging on for a rough ride, and she looked like she could give him a hell of a one. Spreading her thighs apart slowly, Matty licked his lips as he surveyed the pink flesh waiting for his attentions. Her core glistened with dew in preparation for him. Damn, it made a man puff out his chest thinking he was the one to make such a woman glisten in anticipation. His mouth began to water. She was waxed so only a little strip of hair cut low remained. Perfect. Looking up he held her gaze, daring her with his eyes to look away as he slowly lowered his head. Berlin could not believe what she was seeing. The man had just challenged her with his eyes to stop him, and she could do nothing but stare. And quite frankly, she didn’t want to do anything. She wanted to see just how far this crazy country boy would take things. She didn’t dare close her eyes as he lowered his head, watching her every inch of the way. Without 27

breaking eye contact, he deliberately stuck out his tongue and took a long, unhurried swipe. Forgetting all about the challenge in that azure gaze of his, her eyes closed and her head fell back. He took his sweet, southern time, licking upward then swirling that devilish tongue round and round her clit before sucking her little nubbin into his mouth. Berlin was pretty sure her eyes were rolling up in the back of her head beneath her lids. Just as she was about to come and come hard, he moved back and blew on her poor little pussy. Over and over again he drove her right to the edge and then backed off. She was pretty sure she would have to kill him, but then his fingers joined his tongue. “Oh, my…Oh, my…” Berlin came harder than she ever had in her life. Matty felt like he had won a gold medal and the lottery all at once. She had to have the sweetest-tasting pussy he’d ever had the pleasure experiencing. A man could get addicted to a woman like this. Taking his sweet time, he made his way up her fevered flesh, stopping to lavish attentive kisses as he went. He had to pause when he reached her breasts. Oh, Sweet Lord, those breasts! Nestling his large body between her still-spread thighs, he settled in for a leisurely exploration of the mounds that fascinated him so. Had there ever been more two more perfect breasts every created? Touching reverently, he cupped them, testing their weight in his hands. His thumbs stroked over the raised nipples, watching avidly as they tightened and lengthened even more. His cock followed suit. Swallowing hard, he lowered his head, not quite knowing which one to devour first. He closed his eyes and let his mouth make the choice for him, groaning in absolute pleasure as his tongue circled and lashed first one tight bud then the other. Lifting both globes he pushed them together, taking both nipples into his mouth at once. Heaven. A distant thought came unbidden from the deep recesses of his mind. These were the breasts he wanted his children to suckle. He wanted to 28

watch with a mixture of supreme satisfaction and envy as his son took his sustenance here. Where the hell that thought came from, Matty didn’t know. Oddly, he didn’t care. His grandmother had been fond of saying the soul was far wiser than the head or the heart. He had asked a woman to marry him once for appearances. In his heart, he’d wanted to be admired by the general public, and he’d made more money than he could possibly spend in several lifetimes. His head had led him to make the right investments, the right contacts, the right business moves. But his soul had made him leave all of that behind and return to these mountains. Here he found his equilibrium, and now his soul was telling him it had found what he had been searching for— its other half. He was not one to quibble with his soul; experience had told him that never ended well. Miss Berlin Jameson it was. All he had to do now was convince her. Berlin could not believe what was happening to her body. She’d hoped and prayed she wouldn’t lament her decision to let this unknown man have his way with her, but she’d no idea how much she’d enjoy it. Unbelievable, but she could feel the tension building in the pit of her stomach just by the attention he was paying to her breasts. Never in her life had anyone ever made her hot, let alone made her come, just from foreplay…any kind of foreplay. The man would make her orgasm not once, but twice, first by paying homage to her quim, and now just by playing with her breasts! That he was apparently unattached was a crime against nature. He should be locked up good and tight by some woman, and that woman should be she. The thought should have shocked her; Berlin loved being a strong, independent woman, single and free. But suddenly loving like this made her yearn for something more. What would it be like to have this kind of pleasure every night? 29

Her thoughts were abruptly cut short when a tidal wave of yet another orgasm crashed through her body as he bit down with gentle firmness on both her nipples. Before she had a chance to come down from the high, he slid his length into her wanting sheath, stretching her to her very limits. Bliss right on the razor’s edge of pain washed over her, making her strain to have more. He filled her so perfectly, stroking with infinite patience, his gaze never leaving her face. She didn’t have to wonder what he was thinking; all the passion, the wonder, the joy was right there for her to see. She felt it too. Matty couldn’t believe he had never felt anything like this before. She had been made for him just as surely as he was alive and breathing. Her walls gripped him tightly, as if they were loath to let him go. She felt so damn good, so damn right. He didn’t have the words to express what he was feeling so he tried to show her the only way he knew how. Refusing to break contact with their eyes, he made love to her, treating her like the precious jewel she was, pouring all he had into the act. It was too much. The intense ecstasy of being inside her, of becoming one was too much. His hips moved faster, driving into her with desperate need. Even when he had to shift positions, pulling her legs over his arms and clasping her hips, he did not break their gaze. He had to let her know this was real. This would not be a snowstorm fling. She was his and he was keeping her. Anxious to hold on until she reached her peak once again, he angled his hips so his pelvis rubbed lightly against her clit. He couldn’t last much longer. Then her body seized and she screamed out his name. It was sweeter than a chorus of angels. He roared out his release, his hips losing all semblance of finesse. It was better than the first time he had ever been with a woman. A feeling of completion settled deep in his soul. It was perfect.

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***** Berlin awoke to the smell of food, something homey and delicious. Her stomach growled loudly as if demanding that scrumptious-smelling feast right away. Rolling over onto her back, her eyes opened to unfamiliar surroundings. The events of the past few hours crashed through her head like an avalanche. Oh, dear Lord, did she really have sex with a stranger? not once, but three times during the night? The worst part was she didn’t feel the least bit guilty about it. What the hell was wrong with her? She did not get to the place she was now by being reckless; but when Matty looked at her, she felt like she were the only woman in the world. She wasn’t one to believe in fairy tales or love at first sight, but there was something about Mr. Matthew Hartsfield that made her want to believe. Not a good sign. All that could come of this was a nice few days in the West Virginia Mountains, and maybe a new designer. There would be no happily ever after, no matter how it felt when they came together in carnal bliss. It was a fling, nothing more. “I thought you might hungry,” Matty announced coming into the bedroom with a very big tray of something that smelled even better up close. “I made some beef stew. Not very fancy, but it will fill ya up.” “You can cook?” She didn’t know why it surprised her. He apparently lived on his own; of course he would have to cook or starve. “I promise I can keep you fed,” he replied blithely. Berlin ignored the implications of what he had said. He meant while she was here. That was all she would allow herself to think. “Thank you,” she told him simply, trying not to think about the way he pushed her hair out of her face for her after setting the tray carefully on her lap. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

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She almost choked as his casual shrug made the taunt muscles ripple. Because he was shirtless, she could clearly see every inch of his lightly tanned torso. Talk about washboard abs! While he wasn’t thick or heavily muscled, his lean frame was finely developed, reminding her one of those Greek sculptures in a museum but with a considerably larger “package.” “I already ate,” he told her, briefly taking the tray back and setting it on the nightstand, then physically propping her up with the multitude of pillows on his bed. Once she was properly settled, he replaced the tray on her lap and picked up the spoon. Berlin watched in avid fascination as he filled the spoon and brought it slowly to her mouth. “Open wide.” She let him feed her. It was so outside her sphere of experience; the men she usually dated were suave and smooth, but not tender. There was something peculiarly erotic about it. Those eyes of his held her captive as he made sure she ate every drop. And it was delicious, but she would be hardpressed to describe a thing she had just eaten. All her senses were tuned specifically on him. She was getting in a little too deep. With a slight shake of her head, she tried to pull herself back together. She would not fall for a man she barely knew and had no intention of seeing again. “Look, I don’t usually do things like this…” How lame was that? It sounded like something a woman would say if she did sleep around but was too embarrassed to admit it. “I know you don’t,” Matty said, surprising her. “I never suspected otherwise.” Berlin frowned at the tingle his comment sent down her spine. She was no teenage girl to be won over with words. She tried again, putting steel in her voice to make her intentions clear. “Yeah, well, I uh, appreciate the rescue and the hospitality and all. But I came out here to try to convince you to design for Femme, and seeing

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as you are against that, as soon as the road is clear, I am going back to Atlanta.” He regarded her quietly for a full minute, then got up and went over to a chest of drawers. She wanted to know what he was thinking, but didn’t know how to ask. She hadn’t been confrontational about it. She hadn’t accused him of anything. Still, she felt like she were letting him down somehow, like she were hurting him personally in some way. That didn’t make any sense, but she couldn’t shake the suspicion. He was silent when he returned to the bed with a rather large plaid shirt and thick socks. He didn’t say anything as he moved the warm covers off of her and proceeded to dress her as if she were a child. Or someone precious to him, her mind insisted on adding. She could have swatted his hands away, but the truth was she liked it. She liked all of it. She loved the attention, loved the way he had bathed her, seduced her, made love to her, held her as they slept, then woken up and fed and dressed her. No one besides her mother had ever treated her like this. It was especially strange because she had always considered sensitive men like him wimps. There was nothing wimpy about Matthew. He was all man while pampering her. He seemed more manly than any other male she had ever dated. “Come on; I want to show you something,” Matty said, holding out his hand to her. Berlin took his hand, following him out of the spacious bedroom and up the stairs with more than just a little trepidation. She had no idea how large the house was, but the wide staircase led past what looked to be a vast second floor, with hallways extending in both directions. As much as she would have liked to explore what lay in either direction, he took her to a third floor. Her breath caught as the stairwell ended at an open area that was the size of a studio apartment. There were mannequins, about a dozen or so, 33

scattering the room with some of the most beautiful clothes she’d ever seen. She recognized some of the pieces from the photos sent to her, but the best pieces lay strewn about carelessly. The room was framed by floor-to-ceiling windows, but there was very little natural light. All she could see was a wall of white falling furiously outside. Touching a light tan, suede, fitted dress reverently, Berlin’s mind boggled at the sight of so many beautiful clothes—clothes that no one would ever see if he refused to sell them. He had to have private clients. It made no sense to make such beautiful clothing for no one and leave them here. Yet from the looks of things, he had been making clothing for no one in particular for quite some time. “I don’t know why I keep doing it.” Matty’s soft words broke through her thoughts. “It is just something I do.” Shrugging as if he’d explained everything, he moved over to take a distressed leather overcoat with an embroidered design on the back and drape it around her shoulders. “But I want to explain why I can’t design for your company.”

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Chapter Five Matty stepped back and looked at the beautiful woman encased in the coat he created. Perfect. His clothes were meant for a woman like her— strong, confident, independent. A true original. The satisfaction he felt just seeing her in it was something he had never felt while creating garments in Los Angeles. This was what he had been missing, his soul. “My parents died when I was six years old,” he began, going around the room and gathering all the clothes he wanted to see her wearing, clothes that wouldn’t look right on anyone else. “My grandmother raised me. She was Moneton from the Siouan family and the local seamstress in town. She taught me how to make clothes, how to make garments with soul, not just needle and thread. After graduating from NYU and then Parson’s, I went to L.A. to make my fortune. I did that, but I left behind my soul. Success left me empty, but I didn’t know that. Not until my grandmother died. Her words haunted me. Why was I doing what I did? For money, for fame? It all seemed so senseless. My creativity didn’t bring true joy. It was an instrument of greed, a status symbol.” Turning to face her, Matty made a decision. He couldn’t stay holed up in the mountains designing for some dream woman. He had known it for some time now; he just hadn’t known for whom or what to design. “I know you don’t know me,” he told her softly, setting his little bundle down at her feet, and then caressing her face. “But I know you felt something when we made love; and make no mistake, we were making love. Something right and true. If you are willing to explore what that something was, to give us a chance to be together, then I will happily design for you. Not the company you represent, but you. I will go wherever I need to, just to be with you. I am not given to wild flights of fancy, but I believe with every

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fiber of my being fate brought you here to me, and I am not willing to let you go. No, angel, don’t fall from the sky just to fly away again.” Berlin rocked back on her heels. She wanted to deny it. Rationally, one did not build a relationship on one night during a snowstorm. Yet, there was something even she, the ever-practical person she was, couldn’t ignore. There was this strange pull between them, something she had never felt with anyone else. Something she knew she would never feel again. Did she take a chance, or play it safe? She had played it safe her entire life; and up until now, it had served her well. Or had it? Yeah, she had a successful career, plenty of money and things, but she was alone. She worked hard, but she had to admit most of her late nights at the office were because she didn’t want to go home to an empty penthouse full of beautiful things and not much else. And truthfully, she was tired of being alone, tired of having no one to lean on and no one to cry to. What he offered was tempting. She wanted so much to scream, “Yes!”, but she just wasn’t ready to take that leap, not after one night—no matter how much they obviously clicked, or how right it felt. It was just too much too soon. She didn’t know him at all. “I…I…” What could she say? Matty smiled sadly. He knew it was too sudden, but he wanted to make sure she understood his mindset. He hadn’t really expected her to fall into his arms, not now anyway. But every second she was snowed in here he would do everything in his power to prove he was earnest. He didn’t need any more time; his heart already knew what it wanted. While he looked forward to learning everything there was about Berlin, Matty was certain she was the one for him. Now all he had to do was make her see that too. “I don’t expect you to answer now,” Matty told her, moving to pick up the discarded clothes. “In any event, these are for you. I can’t imagine any other woman wearing them.” 36

He turned and made his way down the staircase, knowing she would follow. He was swamped with disappointment. It had been too much far too soon. He shouldn’t have laid all that on her. Not many people went with their gut, their spirit as his grandmother had called it. He had spent too long trying to ignore his own, so he was not surprised by Berlin’s shell-shocked reaction. There was such a strong spirit within her; he could feel it. He just wished she was more attuned to that part of herself.

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Chapter Six Two weeks. Berlin had been trapped in the cabin with one hell of a designer who refused to be bullied, budged, or cajoled into designing for her company for two weeks. It hadn’t exactly been a hardship. While the storm raged outside, Matty had kept her more than just a little warm. His kisses seared her very soul and set fire to her body. Plus, he fed her. He was a wiz in the kitchen, which was a definite plus because Berlin couldn’t cook at all. The man had done everything right; still, she was not ready to make a commitment. To be honest, she couldn’t really say she didn’t know him, not anymore. Being snowed in with little to do but talk, they had shared their lives from beginning to present. She had held back nothing and she was reasonably sure he hadn’t, either. It wasn’t all that strange they talked about practically everything. There had been an immediate connection, and they had already been intimate. Still, there were bits of herself Berlin just couldn’t surrender. She had been on her own for so long. She wanted to believe, a part of her needed to believe, but she could not let go. Watching Matty tow her rental up to the front of his home, a deep melancholy seized Berlin. The roads were clear; the phone lines were up. She’d been able to book a flight back to Atlanta. Really, she should be heading to two other destinations, but she just didn’t have the heart. With any luck, Betty would be recovered and she could go. Berlin had been away from the office too long; paperwork was no doubt piling up. Funny, she didn’t feel much like going back to work. Before this little episode, work had meant everything to her. Now it seemed so empty and pointless. What was she working for? What was her ultimate goal? She had achieved what she had always believed was her biggest dream; now what? She wanted to stay here, in the mountains of West Virginia in a cabin 38

the size of a mini mansion. Okay, maybe not here in the mountains. She was the consummate city girl after all. She did know wherever she was, she wanted Matthew Hartsfield to be there with her. Sometime during the last two weeks she had fallen hard, probably from the moment she’d opened her eyes in the bathtub. So why couldn’t she give him a chance? What was it that kept her from opening up and giving this thing, whatever it was, an opportunity to happen? “Because you’re afraid,” she told herself softly. Letting go meant letting someone in for the first time in her life. She wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. Perhaps, if they’d had more time. She just couldn’t take a leap like that after two weeks. She had worked too hard to get to where she was just to give it all up for a man, no matter how attracted to him she was, or how he treated her like a queen. Damn, leaving here would be the hardest thing she ever had to do, but she had to do it. Matty could feel her eyes on him as he checked out the car. He hoped against hope there would be something, anything, wrong with the vehicle, but there wasn’t. There was nothing he could do to keep her here; he had to let her leave. His entire being was screaming at him to make her stay, or follow her to her destination, but he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t design for her company or any other company. He’d been down that road and it had choked off his soul. He wouldn’t travel down it again. Not even for her? The question mocked him, tormented him. As much as Matty would love to swallow his pride and just go with her, he knew he would be killing something inside himself that he had just gotten back. Then what use would he be to her? Would he end up blaming her? Possibly. He didn’t want that, but he didn’t want this, either.

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The unasked question rattled in his mind even after he packed Berlin an extra suitcase full clothes made by his hands. He insisted on driving her down the mountain to the airport himself. He simply towed her rental under the guise of not being too sure of the car. They both knew it was a lie. He wanted every last second he could have. Because he couldn’t walk her all the way to the gate, they lingered as long as they could outside the security checkpoint. They were cutting it close, but he found he couldn’t let go of her hand until the last possible moment. “Call me as soon as you get in,” Matty instructed her, pulling her into his arms for what looked like the last time. “Don’t make me come down there.” Berlin blinked back tears, tears of regret for what she could not say, tears for what they could’ve had. It would do no good to shed them now. She wasn’t sure she would call him. What would be the point? His life was here; her life was elsewhere. Why drag it out? “I’ll call.” They both knew it was a lie. Days later, looking out over the Atlanta cityscape, Berlin still couldn’t shake her doldrums. Floor-to-ceiling windows ran the length of her office—kind of like the windows in Matty’s work studio. Usually her office was awash with natural light, but today there was very little. The sky was gray and overcast, matching the way she felt inside. She wished it would just rain already. Berlin had made a mistake. She knew she couldn’t stay in West Virginia, but she should’ve have opened up her heart and home to Matty. Maybe he couldn’t design for Femme, but he could design for himself. She could be his anchor, his muse. She noticed all the clothes he had sent with 40

her fit as if they had been made just for her. The man had a deep understanding of a real woman’s body. He made clothes for curves. Creating for the stick figures in Los Angeles must have killed him. “Oh, man, I screwed up,” she moaned, resting her head against the cold window. Files waited on her desk, but she just didn’t have the energy to tackle the growing list of tasks she had to do. Betty, bless her, hadn’t asked, but went about the business of covering her boss’s ass since Berlin just couldn’t shake her depression. For the first time ever, Berlin was seriously considering giving it all up and heading out to the country. She might be miserable, but she would miserable in love, which was a far, far cry from what she was feeling now. Even as Berlin thought it, she knew she wouldn’t do it. She had worked too hard to get where she was. “You look how I feel.” Berlin’s head snapped up and her heart began to race. Matty was here! She was too scared to turn around, afraid that he wasn’t real. She felt his comforting body heat as he moved up behind her. She closed her eyes as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her flush against him. Never had a man’s arms felt so good, so right. Her body relaxed, recognizing its perfect counterpart. “I missed you, baby,” Matty murmured against her ear as he placed gentle, nipping kisses along her neck back up to her ear. He might have been gentle, but Berlin could feel the burning need right underneath the surface. Her body immediately went on fire as a result. “You didn’t call, sweetheart.” She couldn’t answer, not when one hand was snaking up her skirt, a skirt he’d made, and the other was gradually making its way under her blouse to cup her breast. She stifled a moan at the sharp pinch to her nipple. Liquid heat flooded her core, her hips moving back on their own volition, her butt 41

rubbing against his rigid length. Lord, how she missed this. The man could play her body like a fiddle, making her sing a tune of his choosing. “I told you I would come looking for you, didn’t I, sweetheart?” Berlin nodded her head weakly; she was too awash with sensations to form coherent words. When his thick finger reached her clit, rubbing in firm circles, she whimpered. “Please, Matty.” She needed him right now. Forget foreplay, she wanted him buried deep inside her. She moved back restlessly, encouraging him to get on with it. With a low growl, Matty tore off her skimpy underwear. He couldn’t wait; he had waited long enough as it was. “I’m sorry, baby,” he apologized even as he released his aching cock from the confines of his slacks and drove inside her without further preliminaries. Thankfully, she was ready, all hot, wet, and welcoming. He held himself perfectly still for a minute, relishing the feel of her tightness pulsating around him. It felt like coming home. “Put your hands against the window,” Matty instructed, praying the glass was reinforced. He couldn’t wait. Berlin complied immediately, arching her back and bending her knees just a bit to allow him easy access. She couldn’t hold back a cry of pure joy as he powered in and out of her, commanding her body with his own. She found herself shoving backwards with her hips as he drove steadily forward, completing her, becoming one mind, body, and soul. How could she ever have thought she could survive without this completion? Without him? “I don’t want to live without you, Berlin,” Matty told her somewhere between a groan and a growl, all deliciously deep and hot. “I won’t do it. Tell me I don’t have to. Tell me we’ll work it out.” “Yes,” Berlin whimpered, giving him all she had. “Yes, yes, yes!” 42

Her orgasm caught her completely off guard, stealing her very breath. Her mouth opened in a wordless scream, and her body shook with the force of her release. She felt his body tighten along with hers, felt his essence deep inside her womb. She never imagined something could ever feel so right, so meant to be. ***** “I don’t want you to design for Femme.” Berlin didn’t bring the subject until much later, when they were in bed at her house. Looking around she noticed how cold and impersonal everything seemed. There was none of the warm, homey feeling that his cabin had. “I am willing to try,” Matty told her, pulling her close. “I don’t want that,” she told him firmly. “In fact, I have an idea that would work out for both of us.”

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Epilogue “Where do you want me to start setting up the fall collection, Boss?” Betty chirped, carrying in a load of leather and suede shirts. Berlin looked around the store with pride. She and Matty had opened Americana less than a year ago, and already they were making a tidy profit. It looked like they would be able to open a new store sooner than originally anticipated. “Are we putting the fall stuff out already?” Matty asked coming from around the counter to rub his wife’s swollen belly. His chest swelled with pride as the baby kicked in acknowledgment of his father. Berlin leaned back against her husband, loving the way his arms felt around her. “It’s August, we’re already late,” she reminded him gently. Matty’s only response was to kiss his woman deep and long. He would never tire of kissing her, loving her. He’d been so afraid that long-ago day in her office, that she would reject him. Not that he would’ve ever let her go; he would follow this woman to the ends of the earth if necessary. But she had said yes, making his life complete. It had only taken them three months working for Femme to see he would never be happy there. He was humbled by her suggestion they open their own store. He hadn’t thought it would work, but creating with her as his muse had turned out to be the best thing he’d ever done. Well, that and marrying his angel. “Jeez, get a room, why don’t you,” Betty chided without any real heat. Berlin was so happy and humbled Betty had offered to leave Femme to help them open Americana. Luckily, Matty had more than enough money, so Betty didn’t take a pay cut; but still, Berlin had insisted on giving her a

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piece of the enterprise. Leaving an established company was a huge leap of faith, and Berlin was humbled by Betty’s confidence. “I emptied the tables by the windows for them,” Berlin told her. “That way people walking by can see the new line.” Betty nodded then looked at Matty. “Why don’t you take Mama here home now? I can close up. She looks tired.” The woman went to set up the displays, something they had found she could do very well. “I think we should go home,” Matty agreed, his voice becoming husky with need. “I think I need to take some more measurements for our new maternity line.”

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