Deborah Mello - Truly Yours

The previous night had incited a desire that neither had bargained for. It was consuming, like a tidal wave that had swelled thick and full, threatening everything in its wake. Neither one would admit to it but the sensation had them both reeling, unable to fathom what might happen if they didn’t maintain some control.

Darryl rose to his feet, pulling his suit jacket closed. Extending his hand toward Mr. Charles, he smiled warmly. “Congratulations, sir! We look forward to working with you and your daughter,” he said, tossing a nod of his head toward Camryn, who smiled shyly.

Kenneth chuckled heartily. “This is very exciting, son! Very exciting! And I have all the confidence in the world that you and my daughter will do a wonderful job.”

“Thank you, sir,” Darryl said.

“We won’t disappoint you, Father,” Camryn interjected.

Kenneth moved to her side and wrapped his daughter in a deep bear hug. “Don’t give this young man too hard a time,” he said with a wink.

Camryn nodded, rolling her eyes. “So what is it we’re supposed to be doing this afternoon, Mr. Boudreaux?” she asked.

He took a quick glance down at his wrist watch. “Actually, we have to be going,” he said. “Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure. Camryn and I will keep you both updated.”

Mason nodded his appreciation. “Kenneth, can I interest you in a late lunch?”

“Sounds like the best way to celebrate!” he answered.

As the two men led the way out of the room, Darryl hesitated, his gaze meeting Camryn’s. The woman was eyeing him keenly. His mouth lifted easily, a margin of a smile warming his face.

“I’ve arranged for us to do a site tour. I think it will be of benefit to us both.”

“I’ve been to the site already,” Camryn responded curtly, her arms crossing over her chest.

Darryl sighed heavily, his gaze narrowing into thin slits.

Camryn tossed up her hands as if in surrender. “My apologies! I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“Apology accepted. And I know you’ve already toured the site. So have I. But I thought that it would be useful for us to do an aerial tour. I was thinking about what you said yesterday about the aesthetic value of the design, and with the proposed height of the building, I thought that our looking at it from the air would be helpful.”

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Camryn said.

“Finally!” Darryl exclaimed as he pretended to slap his forehead. “Something you hadn’t considered!”

Camryn giggled softly and Darryl couldn’t help but laugh with her.

* * *

The laughter didn’t last long. The ride to Crescent City Helicopter was teeming with friction. Despite her best efforts, Camryn had initiated the first fight when Darryl had insisted on driving them in his car to their destination. Camryn had insisted on driving her own vehicle, a move Darryl had deemed a ridiculous waste of gasoline. Irate, Camryn had called him a fool, believing she knew better than he ever would. But after a heated back-and-forth Darryl had prevailed.

From start to finish Camryn had been unable to verbalize that riding in a car with him, alone, would cause more angst to her feminine spirit than she wanted to deal with. Darryl made her hot, point blank. And there was no amount of cool air or ice water capable of extinguishing the fire that burned from the pith of her crotch as he sat so closely by her side. So no, she hadn’t wanted to ride in his car, nor did she want to be so close to him in that darn helicopter, but there she was, seated so near to him that the sweet scent of his cologne was beginning to make her dizzy with desire. She sighed as the R44 Raven soared through the sky, dipping down low against the New Orleans skyline. Turning her attention to the views outside, she whispered a silent prayer that they would soon be done and finished.

The gesture did not go unnoticed as Darryl took a deep inhale. He cut an eye at her, distracted by the exuberance across her face. She was so intoxicatingly beautiful that it completely unnerved him. It unsettled him because just minutes earlier she’d been so contentious. She’d pouted and flailed over every suggestion he had made. But he was even more frustrated by the rise of desire that loomed heavier and heavier with each minute they spent together.

He watched as her eyes skated across the landscape, the woman clearly enamored with the experience. He’d gotten it right and it was painted over every square inch of her body. The joy she exuded had him grinning from ear to ear.

The helicopter soared high along the cloudless skyline, navigating the airway over New Orleans. In the distance the sun was just beginning to make its descent, the edge of light reaching to kiss the mighty Mississippi, the brilliant rays dancing over the water’s surface.

“It’s absolutely beautiful!” Camryn gushed, her gaze darting eagerly over the landscape.

Darryl turned to stare at her. Yes, you are, he thought to himself, his own gaze dancing along her profile as he noted her high cheekbones, dark, seductive eyes and those full, lush lips. Her eyes flitted briefly toward him, hesitating for a quick moment before she looked away.

There was something seductive and intoxicating about the man’s stare. Camryn struggled not to meet his gaze, knowing that nothing good could ever come from her staring into Darryl’s eyes. Yet the look of longing he was giving her persisted.

“What do you know about my family, Darryl?” she suddenly asked, still looking out the helicopter window.

“Excuse me?”

“Our history. What do you know about it?”

Darryl shrugged his broad shoulders. “I know that you and your family come from a long line of architects.”

She nodded ever so slightly. Closing her eyes, Camryn took a deep breath before continuing, drawing on the family stories that she’d been told since she was a little girl. “My mother was a Toutant before she married into the Charles family.”

At the mention of the Toutant family name Darryl’s eyebrows lifted curiously. The Toutant family was legendary, their lineage going back to the early 1700s when immigrants first took refuge in the newly established New Orleans. The infamous Lucian Toutant, son of a wealthy Parisian architect, had been an instrumental player in the development of the Vieux Carré, or French Quarter, as it was now known. Darryl leaned forward as she continued, not wanting to miss a word over the loud hum of the helicopter’s engine.

“I’m sure you know that the French Quarter was composed of eight streets in a perfect square. And most of the architecture in the area was built during the time of Spanish rule. Some of the old French colonial influences were lost after the big fires of 1788 and 1794. Lucian Toutant’s business ventures financed a significant portion of that rebuilding.”

Turning to stare where Camryn pointed, Darryl could just imagine the views back then. Having scoured thousands of old maps and street plans, he knew that within the boundaries of the old square, construction had been happening wherever they turned, high-ceilinged homes rising grandly from the rich earth beneath them. The massive white columns and the black ironwork that adorned balconies during that bygone era still existed. Young trees that had lined the length of walkways with newly sprouted branches now loomed large and full, limbs stretched sky-high. In the distance, along the Mississippi waterway, a cruise ship was now docked where cargo ships had once landed and unloaded their goods.

“And it was rumored that his wife, Alexandra Fortier, influenced a number of those designs?” Darryl queried.

Camryn nodded. “My great-great-great-great-grandparents left quite a mark on this city.” Her gaze moved back to the sights below.