Dara Girard - Sparks

She’d been sneaking glances at him since they’d first met. Had he not been a man, she would have called him beautiful, but his contradictions got in the way of such a simple description. Everything looked dwarfed around him. The chair he was sitting in looked like a toy, yet he moved with grace. He had a thin top lip as though drawn with the use of a ruler, but his bottom lip was full and sensuous. She wondered if that feature annoyed him.

His eyes were a surprise. When his gaze first fell on her face she’d taken an involuntary step back. She had expected dark brown eyes, but his were light brown. They looked the color of biscuits just pulled out of the oven. However, they didn’t reveal much. Not warmth or coldness—nothing. She couldn’t say the same for his voice. It betrayed a number of emotions in one word. That’s when she knew how to describe him. He was an opera—bold, majestic and enthralling.

love of stories started with listening to the imaginative tales of her immigrant parents and grandparents. At age twelve, she sent out her first manuscript. After thirteen years of rejection, she got a contract. She started writing romance because she loves the “dance” between two people falling in love. She is the author of Table for Two, Gaining Interest, Carefree, Illusive Flame and The Sapphire Pendant. Her novels are known for their humor, interesting plot twists and witty dialogue. Dara lives in Maryland.

Visit her Web site, www.daragirard.com, or write to her, P.O. Box 10345, Silver Spring, MD 20914.

Sparks

Dara Girard

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Faith—Because you were there when I needed you.

Dear Reader,

What happens when a man who’s ready for business meets a woman who’s ready for pleasure? Sparks!

I loved writing this story of two total opposites trying to reach a similar goal. Like her friend Simone, I wanted to see Dawn Ajani have a little more fun in her life. Enter Jordan Taylor, known for enjoying life and women. The tension between the two—Dawn, who wanted both Jordan’s business and his body, and Jordan, who was determined to change his playboy ways—provided ample opportunity for me as a writer. I was able to explore these two characters, showing both their strengths and weakness, and how each grew to love the other.

I hope you enjoy my first Kimani Romance release.

Happy reading,

Dara Girard

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

“I’m sorry about this.”

Dawn Ajani smiled at the man in front of her. She thought it was better than strangling him. Lionel Redding’s deep-set brown eyes looked apologetic. He had nice eyes and wore a great cologne. He smelled wonderful. It was the first thing she noticed about him beside his large size. Too bad the guy was a pig. A late afternoon sun sent pale strips of light into the room, highlighting his thinning black hair and glinting against the silver letter opener on her desk. Its pointy tip was a tempting weapon. Dawn pushed it out of reach.

“I regret having taken up so much of your time,” he continued. “You have impressive credentials of course.”

Dawn kept her smile, although her cheeks were beginning to ache. A patronizing, lying fathead.

“But I’m considering the Layton Group because they have the kind of manpower and resources I need to handle a company of my size.”

Trying not to gag, Dawn nodded, making a noncommittal sound that could be mistaken for understanding.

“They have a more established reputation—”

“I am well aware of Layton’s excellent reputation,” she interrupted. “I helped create it.”

He cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable.

Her smile grew malicious. “But of course you know all about that.” Dawn leaned back in her chair and tapped her finger against the desk. She noticed her mauve nail polish was chipped and folded her hand into a fist. “I find it amazing that it took you four hours to come to that conclusion.”

“Yes, well I was interested in all that you had to say.”

“Really? Personally, I find it a relief that you decided not to use my services. It would likely take you half a day to decide which tax form you would like to use.”

He stiffened. “Now, Ms. Ajani—”

“Please. Do not pretend that you had any intention of using my services, Mr. Redding.” He opened his mouth; she held up her forefinger. He closed it. “I admit that when you first came in here I was flattered by your initial consideration, but I now know that it was all a ruse.” He opened his mouth again; she narrowed her eyes. He closed it and folded his arms. “And how did I know?” She didn’t allow him to answer. “Because you seemed ‘unnaturally’ interested in the location of my apartment, my latest vacation, and both my professional and private life. While I have no problem sharing trivial information such as whether I prefer the color blue or gray.” She paused. “Incidentally, I prefer neither color, you can put that down if you find it pertinent.” She gestured to the pad where he had been taking notes. “I do take offense to nosy busybodies.”

His arms fell to his sides. “I wanted to know if you had any other obligations which may have affected your attention to my needs.”

Dawn rested her chin in her hand. “Just how much attention do you need, Mr. Redding?” She raised her hand. “Never mind, I am not interested. If you need the kind of attention I think you do, I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong company. However, you can find such companies under the heading of Escort Services in the Yellow Pages.”

His lips disappeared into his fleshy round face. He drew in his prominent chin, causing the second one to quiver. “Ms.—”

“You’ve wasted enough of my time and I plan to be compensated.”

He widened his eyes. “You said that the first consultation was free.”

“But this wasn’t a consultation, was it? It was an underhanded attempt by your client to discover how well I am doing in my new business. My initial consultations take one hour, Mr. Redding. You were an exception. It wasn’t hard for me to discover that you are a private investigator. To be exact, you asked a series of such inane questions I was amazed anyone running a business could be so inept.”

“I won’t sit here and be insulted. I—”

“Don’t be. I’m complimenting you, Mr. Redding.” She shook her head and laughed without humor. “For a moment there I thought I would have better progress conversing with a tree stump.”

He lifted his briefcase onto his lap and opened it. “I knew working with a woman was a mistake.” He shoved his papers inside. “You become so emotional and—”

“How much did Brandon pay you to come here?”

He snapped the briefcase shut. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Would you like me to repeat it slowly or write it down?”

His face turned an unhealthy red. “Now—”

She wagged a finger. “There’s no need to get emotional, Mr. Redding, I merely asked a question.”

“You—”

“How much did he pay you?”

“Nothing.”

Dawn stood and came from behind the desk. “Let me frame it a different way. Will you be paid for information you didn’t gather?” She leaned against the table. “Knowing Brandon, he only paid you a third of what you agreed on and will not pay you further unless you supply him with the information he wants. Now wouldn’t you hate to have gone through all this trouble for nothing?”