Suite Nothings

Suite Nothings

by

J.M. Jeffries

Published by Parker Publishing Inc at Smashwords.

Copyright © 2012 by J. M. Jeffries

Noire Entice is an imprint of Parker Publishing Inc

Published by Parker Publishing Inc

12523 Limonite Avenue, Suite #440-438

Mira Loma, California 91752

http://www.parker-publishing.com

All rights reserved. This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, locations, events and incidents (in either a contemporary and/or historical setting) are products of the author’s imagination and are being used in an imaginative manner as a part of this work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, settings, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ISBN: 978-1-60043-106-7

Smashwords Edition

Chapter One

Etienne Marais sat on the hard chair and watched as the last model strutted back up the catwalk, her slender body swaying to the sound of loud techno music and thunderous applause. The first runway show of the Sweet Nothings lingerie line was an unparalleled success. Even the normally jaded Parisian fashionistas were impressed. This was a very good sign. Honey Harlow, the woman he’d come to see, had done everything with a stylish flair but kept the entire show simple and elegant.

He waited patiently for the designer to make her appearance. Honey Harlow, the newest lingerie designer sensation to take Paris Fashion Week by storm. And what a storm she’d whipped up. Never had he seen such beautiful seductive lingerie. Unlike other collections, her show had not been flashy. No rock stars detracting from the show, no outlandish costumes that had nothing to do with underwear, no super-thin models who looked like they were going to fall over at any moment stomped the runway. She hired beautiful women who frankly looked like women. Everything had been about her product and how her product worked on a woman’s body. The fact that she didn’t add the glitz made him think she stood behind her line for what it was--beautiful, classic sexy lingerie.

He loved the name of Honey Harlow. It was decadent, sexy and bold much like her creations. And he knew from an extensive background check that it was her real name. In fact, he knew everything he needed to know about Honey Harlow including the circumstances of her birth, her confusing familial relationships which included a half-brother who was English nobility, a half-sister with a Mensa-sized mind, and a Las Vegas showgirl for a mother with a string of lovers and ex-husbands. He knew she was nearly six feet tall and had a body built for love.

The applause finally died down and the last model had retreated behind the backdrop. Honey Harlow stepped onto the catwalk and made her way slowly down, stopping here and there to speak to someone who stood up as she leaned over. Her raven black hair, caught in a band that allowed it to hang free down her back, was brushed back from her beautiful cinnamon-colored, oval-shaped face and. And her eyes. Her eyes were the most magnificent part of her, the color of Baltic amber with just a hint of mischief in them; they danced with excitement as she walked down the catwalk slowly to the overwhelming applause. Not once did she lose her calm composure as she stopped to smile or wave to someone.

Etienne’s breath caught in his throat. She reached the middle of the catwalk and threw up her arms. The crowd went wild. Wearing a low cut crop top with the letters UNLV air-brushed across the front with the lacy cups of a white push-up bra just visible over the line of her shirt, low rider jeans and red platform shoes decorated in rhinestones, she looked every inch the rock and roll goddess. Her lingerie might have been subtle but nothing about the woman was. He liked the contradiction. She should have been the model to show off her fine lingerie with her voluptuous body that had all the right curves.

His assistant, Andre, leaned over toward Etienne. She is magnificent. I can understand why you want her. Andre was a decade older than Etienne and had a worldly sophisticated air about him. He had been Etienne’s personal assistant for the last five years and was indispensible.

I don’t want the woman, I just want her underwear, he responded, though the woman would be a nice treat. Harlow Lingerie would be a particularly smart addition to his luxury goods empire.

Andre laughed. "You want the woman, too. Who wouldn’t want her? She is c’est magnifique."

Trust Andre to be so honest in matters of the bedroom. Perhaps, I should speak to your wife about that.

Sophia understands, Andre replied with an expressive shrug, she’s always happier when I have a mistress.

Claire and Andre had a particular French arrangement, they both had lovers and no one discussed it all that much. Only your jeweler is happy when you have a mistress. Etienne stood.

And you since you own the company.

Smiling he did recall Andre did keep him in a Euros. Let’s get to the back before all the complimentary champagne I provided is gone.

Etienne, you sent the cheap stuff. Andre stood and tugged the cuffs of his shirt back into place.

Not for her. He wanted the best she had to offer. For Honey Harlow, I sent my private reserve. Etienne threaded his way through the crowd, jostling the people around him in his haste. He had to start wooing the woman, to show her what he could do for her. How else would he persuade her to sell her business to him?

Honey felt flushed with exhilarating excitement as she finally walked off the catwalk and back to the dressing rooms. As she stepped around two of her models, someone handed her a glass of champagne. She saw her sister and rushed over to hug Sunny. Baby sister, we did it.

Sunny Harlow pulled back and grinned at her. You did it. Sunny was a tall, unusually slim woman who could have walked the catwalk herself except for her excessive shyness. She was more at home in front of a drafting board than out in public.

We’re a team. I’m the fluff, you’re the brains. This is our victory. How like Sunny, Honey thought. Her sister didn’t like being in the spotlight and was always giving other people credit for her actions. How did she get born into this family? Don’t forget the name on the tag is Harlow.

Sunny sighed and shook her head. I know, but still this is your moment.

She clutched Sunny’s wrist. Let’s enjoy the party.

Honey knew if she didn’t keep a hold of her sister’s wrist, she would fade into the background and eventually disappear back their hotel room and stick her nose in a book. If only Damien were here. Honey’s half-brother had given her the start-up capital for her business and her success was his success, but his wife Renata had fallen off a horse and broken her leg and he couldn’t leave her at the moment. And while Honey was disappointed she couldn’t share this moment with him, she understood that her brother’s priorities had changed. And after the crap that their father, aka the sperm donor had put them both through, her big brother deserved every second of happiness that landed his way.

A man entered the room. He was tall, with dark blonde hair and striking brown eyes. Oh la la. His face was narrow and aristocratic, yet a hint of danger lurked in the hard angles. Not her usual big hard body boy type, but that’s the kinda man that every girl could get all sweaty about. Honey’s hormones went into overdrive. Talk to me, baby.

Sunny touched her sister’s shoulder. Enjoy your moment, Big sister. I’m going back to the hotel and curl up with a book. I’ve had my fun quota for the day. Sunny could always tell when Honey was distracted enough for her to make her escape.

I’m going to let you go this time, Honey said. I know you’ve worked doubly hard this week and you’re tired. But next time you need to celebrate, too.

Honey found her gaze drifting back to the blond man. He stared right back at her and for a moment she was uncomfortable. This guy was on the hunt and he’d zeroed in on her and had her firmly in his sights. Not sure how she felt about the predatory gleam in his eyes, she was willing to see how things were going to play out. Normally she was used to being the predator.

Honey drifted away leaving Sunny surrounded by half-clad models each laughing and sipping their champagne. The man simply stood by the door watching her. And she couldn’t take her eyes off of him either.

Ooh, girl, her personal assistant, Conrad Cameron moved to her side. That’s the biggest fish in France you’re staring at.

Who is Mr. Tall, Blond, and Sexy in the expensive Kiton suit? Honey could barely breathe. He was bold and brash and the way he looked at her made tingle all the way down to her toes, everywhere in between and in all the right ways.

Conrad smoothed the edges of his lapels and sighed. Honey girl, that’s Etienne Marais.

She’d heard the name before--who hadn’t. This guy was the giant fish in a very exclusive pond. Her eyebrows rose in surprise. You are kidding me? That man is Mr. Luxury Goods himself. What is he doing at my show? Slumming? What the hell did he want with her? She wasn’t the kind of company he normally purchased. Her lingerie was great but it was anything but luxury. Her customers were regular women who had jobs and mini vans, not spoiled celebrities who could spend a couple hundred bucks on a thong and not worry about making the rent.

If I were to hazard a guess from the way he’s looking at you, he already has you naked and bent over the coffee table.

So much for foreplay, Honey said with a sigh. I thought French men were more accomplished at seduction than other men in the world. She faked staying cool, calm and collected while her secret garden was getting all hot and bothered about doing something like that. All he had to do was hold up a can of whipped cream and she’d leap over all the models to get to him.

Conrad giggled. Girl, if he swung my way, all I’d be thinking about is a shopping spree at Tiffany’s with his black AmEx.

On Conrad, you are such a ‘ho. He had a black American Express. Well that trumped her little platinum card.

Hell yeah. He gave her a little push. Go over and say howdy. You are in his territory.

A small shiver went through her. This is my party. She pursued her lips. And I was raised right. She handed Conrad her glass. I should be hospitable.

Take pictures, he said.

Honey rolled her eyes. You are so bad.

Conrad flicked his hand. And while you’re at it, thank him for the champagne. He touched his fingers to his lips. C’est magnifique.

Will do. She’d put that on her ‘to do’ list along with about eight hundred other things she could think of doing with Mr. Luxury Goods. Honey moved casually through the crowd stopping occasionally to accept congratulations on her fabulous show as she moved steadily toward him.

Honey approached him and said, Monsieur Marais, I understand I’m to thank you for the champagne.

Miss Harlow. His voice was deep and sensual.

Shivers raced up and down her spine. You are more than welcome.

All the noise seemed to disappear as though they were the only people in the room. He was taller than she was even in her four inch heels. She’d been searching most of her life for a man taller than she was. And here he was in the serious man flesh. Little goose bumps raced up and down her arms.

Did you enjoy the show? the words come awkward and lame. What did someone say to one of the richest men in France? Or for that matter a man who had all your girl parts standing up at attention.

He delicately took her hand and caressed her thumb. I would have enjoyed the show more if you had been one the models. You would have been superb in the pink lace… the one with the very thin straps.

She studied him carefully. This man was dangerous and she loved danger. You know how to go straight to the target with no preliminaries. I like that about you.

His dark brown eyes twinkled. I’m glad there’s something about me you like. I think we should find out what else you like about me.

She looked him up and down as she felt a smile tug at her lips. This guy played the game well. How very nice. There’s plenty about you I like. Never in her life had she met someone who could stand up to her, and go toe to toe for a couple rounds. Most men tended to be put off by her directness--or her ambition and drive. They didn’t understand that she didn’t have time for games.

Then I think, he said in a musing tone, we should leave right now and find out what else we like about each other.

Honey hitched a thumb over her shoulder. You do realize this is my party to celebrate my successful launch.

His mouth lifted in a sexy smile and his eyes never left hers. I know why you’re here. But since this is your party, you can leave anytime you like. There’s plenty of food and champagne to keep everyone occupied for hours. I doubt anyone will notice if you step out for a few quiet moments by yourself.

From the second she first saw him, he made her feel as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered. She tilted her head at him. He was right. She’d done everything that needed to be done. So why not steal a few minutes with a sexy Frenchman. Conrad and Sunny could take care of things. She turned around and caught Conrad’s gaze. She pointed at the Frenchman and mouthed, I’m leaving. Conrad gave her the okay sign and went back to his seduction of a pretty young man with pale skin and brilliant green eyes. Conrad had found himself a playmate and she didn’t need to worry about him.

Etienne slid a hand around her arm and gently eased her out the door. He was smooth. Too smooth, but not in a bad way. What the hell did he want from her? She was going to find out soon enough. Give me a second to say my goodbyes and get my coat.

Of course.

Outside in the cool March night, Honey pulled her coat tight against her. Though there were signs of spring in the air, the chill was more than she was used to. She didn’t like cold and the coat she’d bought for Las Vegas in the winter didn’t even begin to keep her warm in chilly Paris. Before he’d taken one step toward the curb, a sleek black limo slid smoothly up. A chauffeur jumped out of the limo, raced around and opened the door. Etienne eased Honey inside the plush limo and as she sat on the smooth leather seat, she closed her eyes and for a moment allowed herself to enjoy the decadence. To think this might someday be hers. She allowed the dream to proceed, but then brought herself back to reality. She was too practical to be seduced by the luxury of the limo and attention of a very attractive man. Which made her wonder what he wanted from her.

The interior was warm. Honey settled back in the seat. She crossed her legs and the rhinestones on the red pump caught the light and reflected a tiny rainbow across the carpet. Etienne opened the bar and pulled out an open bottle of red wine. He poured wine into two crystal wine glasses and handed