The One For Me

Book 8: A Danvers Novel

by Sydney Landon

Genres: Women's Fiction; Romance; Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

The New York Times bestselling author of Watch Over Me delivers a steamy new novel of irresistible attraction in her popular Danvers series. 

Mark DeSanto has never denied himself anything—especially in the bedroom. Rich, attractive, and successful, men envy him and women desire him. But when a sweet, guileless beauty faints at his feet, he suddenly finds himself wondering if it’s time to look for something more lasting.... 

Until her divorce, Crystal Webber never knew what it was like to follow her heart. Now she wants to experience all life has to offer. So when she catches a glimpse of Mark DeSanto in the halls of Danvers International, she’s instantly infatuated—and eager to join him for a walk on the wild side. Fainting at his feet wasn’t her plan, but at least it got his attention.... 

But for the first time, Mark wants to take things slow, which—considering the electricity between them—may take far more willpower than he’s ever had.

Release date: February 2, 2016

Publisher: Berkley

Print pages: 304

Sample

Sweet Dreams

Also by Sydney Landon

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Epilogue

Excerpt from No Denying You

About the Author

Chapter One

There are just days that suck, Crystal Webber thought as she used one hand to rub her aching head and the other to clutch her cramping stomach. Why in the world had she come to work this morning? True, she hadn’t felt quite this sick when she’d left home, but she had been nauseous. She’d attributed it to skipping dinner the night before since she had fallen asleep on the sofa hours before her usual bedtime.

Now, though, she could no longer avoid the fact that she was ill. Her boss, Lydia, had gone to lunch, so Crystal sent her an e-mail explaining the situation before getting shakily to her feet. She quickly grabbed the edge of her desk and held on until the room stopped spinning. “You can do this,” she mumbled under her breath as she put one foot in front of the other. She was grateful for her recent promotion to assistant to the director of marketing at Danvers International. Otherwise, she would be struggling to make it through the cube farm where her last desk had been located. There was little to no privacy there and someone would have certainly noticed that she was weaving as if she’d had one too many drinks. Thank God, things were quieter on the management side of the hallway.

She was relieved when the elevator doors opened as soon as she hit the DOWN button. The next few moments passed in something of a daze, and she had no idea that she’d actually made it to the sidewalk outside the building until the bright sunlight blinded her. As she blinked her eyes quickly to adjust, her stomach roiled alarmingly. The realization that she was going to be sick before she made it home had her so focused that she didn’t notice anyone standing beside her until a hand touched her arm. “Are you okay?” Crystal jumped aside in shock at the sound of the voice, whirling around to see Mark DeSanto looking down at her with concern-filled eyes. Please, no. Fate couldn’t be evil enough to throw the coworker she’d lusted after for months into her path at this moment. Not today of all days.

Using the last reserves of her strength, she pushed her shoulders back and attempted to give him a bright smile. “I’m fine,” she replied in a voice that sounded scratchy, even to her own ears. He gave her a skeptical look and then, before she could do anything to stop it, the unthinkable happened. Her body went into a full revolt, and almost in slow motion, she threw up on a pair of shoes that likely cost more than her Volkswagen Beetle. Words of apology rose to her lips but before she could utter them, her world dimmed and then turned black.

As consciousness slipped away from her, all she could think was that she’d met the man of her dreams face-to-face and she wasn’t going to live long enough to do a damn thing about it.

•   •   •

Mark DeSanto stood on the sidewalk in shock with the now-limp body of the woman who had just moments before ruined his favorite pair of Tom Ford shoes in his arms. He knew the effect that he had on most women. Hell, he’d had more than a few swoon at his feet, but the whole throwing-up thing was completely new. He had no idea what to do now with the unconscious woman whose weight he was supporting. It wasn’t as if he could just lay her on one of the nearby benches for someone else to find—could he?

No, he discounted that option, despite how appealing it sounded.

When he’d seen her staggering out the door, he should have turned the other way and left her to be someone else’s problem. He had walked out the doors of Danvers just steps behind her. Normally he preferred tall blondes with the occasional redhead thrown in for variety, so she wasn’t his usual type. However, as if drawn by some unseen force, he had found himself reaching out and touching her arm, wanting a glimpse of the face that belonged to the enticing body.

But he’d caught glimpses of the woman he followed down the sidewalk in the hallways and lobby of the office many times in recent months. For some reason, she was always turning away by the time he became aware of her presence. He’d recognize her ass anywhere because that was the body part usually facing him as she walked in the opposite direction. She was petite but had curves in all of the right places. Her long brown hair hung in loose waves that stopped just inches from her delectable backside. Today, she was wearing a black skirt that reached her knees, but the slit in the middle had shown shapely thighs as she’d moved unsteadily. When she had lifted an arm, rubbing her neck, the top she wore had edged up, revealing a hint of skin. She seemed to be everywhere lately, and he was ready to meet his mystery woman so that he could move on.

Anything beyond that was doubtful. He didn’t like to muddy the waters where he worked. That was not to say he’d never made an exception, but he tried not to.

When she’d jerked around to face him a few moments ago, he’d felt a jolt of electricity shoot through his body. He wasn’t a man prone to romantic foolishness, but there had been songs written to describe women like her. Wide eyes close to violet in color. Plump pink lips that made a man’s cock sit up and take notice, and a flawless peaches-and-cream complexion that some paid millions for but never achieved.

He had still been gaping at her as she’d assured him that she was fine before she further shocked him by vomiting and promptly passing out. She had been seconds away from her beautiful face meeting the unforgiving concrete when he’d caught her. As he stood with her light weight in his arms, a black Bentley sedan pulled to the curb. His driver, Denny—who was also his cousin on his mother’s side of the family—got out of the car gawking as if in disbelief of what he was seeing. As far as the employer/employee relationship, theirs was very informal. They’d grown up together, and although Mark’s family had money from the DeSanto side, Denny’s did not. So years ago Denny had proposed that he become Mark’s driver and assistant when Mark had taken over the family business, and it had worked well for both of them. Mark compensated Denny more than probably anyone employed in a similar position, but he trusted him implicitly.

“I’m almost afraid to ask what you did to that girl, but if I’m going to become some kind of accessory, then I guess I need to know.” Denny sighed in resignation.

Walking toward his driver in shoes that sloshed with every step, Mark shook his head helplessly. “I have no idea. She was weaving as she walked, and then she got sick and fainted.”

Denny wrinkled up his nose as the smell finally reached him. “Shouldn’t we do something with her? I mean, do you think she’s drunk?”

“How in the hell am I supposed to know?” he snapped. “I didn’t smell any alcohol, and it’s barely midday. Also, she just left Danvers, so it seems unlikely.”

“Then we need to get a doctor. She obviously has something wrong with her,” Denny pointed out.

Rolling his eyes, Mark said, “You think? Open the car door so I can get her inside.” Denny jogged ahead and had the door ajar when Mark reached him. “Here, you’re going to have to hold her for a minute. Then you can give her back to me when I’m inside.”

Denny held his hands up, trying to back away. “She’s got puke on her. Can’t you just get in with her? There’s no need to ruin both of our clothes.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Denny, I’ll get you a new suit. Just take her for one second.” Mark couldn’t believe how hard it was for two men to juggle such a tiny woman. Finally, as Denny gently handed her off to him and shut the door, Mark slumped against the leather seat with her curled against him. Since he had no idea of her name, he rubbed his hand along her leg as he said, “Angel, open those eyes and look at me so I’ll know you’re okay.”

He continued to say variations of the same thing as Denny started driving. He had almost given up when she finally shifted in his arms.

Suddenly, the violet eyes that had captivated him earlier were staring at him with an expression that was hard to decipher. He was too stunned to react when she lifted her hand and stroked it down the side of his face. “Oh, Mark, it’s you—can we please have sex this time before I wake up?” No sooner had she finished the question than her head dropped back to his chest. If not for the soft snore that emitted from her mouth, he would have been checking her for a pulse.

He was chuckling at her words when it hit him. She’d called him by name. His angel wasn’t deliriously asking for sex from a stranger. He had no idea who she was, but for the first time in so very long, he was interested in knowing more. This beauty seemed different from most of the women he’d met and with whom he had enjoyed a few hours of pleasure. As soon as she was conscious and coherent, he intended to find out who she was.

She’d already accomplished something that no one had in years.

Chapter Two

Crystal rolled over in bed, wincing at the wave of pain that one movement seemed to have caused. The glow of the clock on the bedside table showed that it was four in the morning, which would explain why the room was still pitch-black. Her limbs were heavy with fatigue as she curled around a pillow—and then she froze. She sniffed again just to make sure she hadn’t imagined it—but no, her bedding smelled like a man. Considering she hadn’t slept with anyone since her divorce, this was a very strange occurrence. Jerking upright, she fumbled on the bedside table for her lamp—but it wasn’t within easy reach as it should be. She stretched farther until, with a shriek, she was falling out of the bed.

She landed on the floor with a thud and a jarring of limbs. Ouch. She couldn’t remember her carpeted floor being this hard and cold. What happened next convinced her that she must still be dreaming. Light suddenly filled the room and a man who looked a lot like Mark DeSanto stood looking down at her in concern.

Instead of screaming in terror, she began laughing hysterically. Couldn’t she have just one hot sex dream? Maybe her riding Mark while he told her how perfect she was? Heck, she’d even be happy with a plain old missionary fantasy. But no, even in her dreams, she was awkward and always managed to embarrass herself. “Sorry about this,” she mumbled to her dream Mark. “Just let me get back in bed and fall asleep. If I’m lucky, you’ll be back and we’ll try this again.”

“Are you all right? Did you hit your head when you fell?” He sounded so real, his question caused her to frown. Her eyes widened as he squatted next to her.

Okay, this was officially freaky now. Dream Mark never talked this much. She quite liked this new development. He seemed so concerned for her. She decided to enjoy it while it lasted—or at least until she woke up. “I’m too weak to stand. Could you help me?” That wasn’t a complete lie, as her limbs were heavy, and she was sore already from the fall. Her breath hitched when he slid one arm under her knees and the other around her back before straightening with her in his muscular arms. “Wow, you smell good,” she moaned as she buried her face in the curve of his neck. When he didn’t protest, she took it one step further—and licked at the throbbing pulse she felt there with the tip of her tongue. He shuddered, freezing with her in his arms.

Crystal felt like a kid in a candy store. Shouldn’t she be awake by now? This felt so real. . . . And he smelled just like her pillow. She was pondering her next move when her stomach cramped. “What—?” she murmured in confusion. Then a wave of nausea rolled over her and she clamped a hand over her mouth.

“Oh no, not again,” dream Mark said, sounding panicked. He walked at a fast clip with her to the bathroom—only it definitely wasn’t hers. This one was opulent, with gleaming marble double sinks, a huge shower, and a Jacuzzi bathtub big enough to swim in. Crystal was still gawking when he lowered her to her feet in front of the toilet. He made no move to leave, though; instead, he kept a supporting hand on her back. “How are you feeling, Angel? Are you going to be sick?”

“Um—I don’t know,” she answered absently. “I think I just need to sit here for a minute.” He helped her down to the floor then seated himself just inches away. She could only stare at him since this whole dream was beginning to seem more like a walk into the twilight zone. Hesitantly, she reached out to touch his chest. She paused as she felt his heart beating against the palm of her hand. Jerking back as if burned, she began to notice little things like the fact that she was wearing what looked like a man’s button-down shirt while Mark had on a pair of lounge pants and a T-shirt. When her eyes met his, she found him staring at her with equal parts concern and curiosity. It was then that his last words really registered. “‘Angel’?”

The corners of his mouth turned up into a grin as he said, “Well, when you appeared to fall from the sky into my arms, I didn’t know your name, so I just called you what seemed to suit you best. Of course, now that I know who you are, I find that I still prefer ‘Angel.’ There’s something so innocent about you.”

“Oh, my God,” she wheezed. “This isn’t a dream? I’m actually here with you. How—why?” Looking around frantically, Crystal desperately tried to remember what could have possibly brought her to Mark’s apartment. Shit, why couldn’t she remember something as monumental as being with Mark DeSanto? Then a horrifying thought occurred to her. “If we had sex, I’m going to kill myself!”

A laugh erupted from his mouth, followed by a cough. “I must say, I’ve never had that reaction from a woman before.”

She felt her face heating up as she imagined how he must have taken her comment. “No! Crap, that came out wrong. I just meant if we slept together and I didn’t remember it, I’d be so pissed off.” When he raised a brow in question, she quickly added, “You know, because I’ve been dreaming of doing that with you for so long—” Now he looked supremely amused as she continued to ramble, which only made the situation worse. Putting a hand over her face, she said from behind her palm, “Please forget I said any of that. I’d just like to know what I’m doing here.”

Mark gave her an assessing look before saying, “I’d rather talk about that somewhere other than the bathroom. Are you going to be sick?”

Thankfully, her bout of nausea seemed to have passed during their conversation. “I—think I’m okay now.”

Her growling stomach caused him to chuckle as he got to his feet and extended a hand to her. “Let’s go find something to eat. You’ll probably feel better after that.”

Not only was her body letting her know it needed food, but her bladder was also making its presence known loud and clear. “I—er, could you wait outside for a minute?”

Looking adorably confused, he asked, “Why?”

Could the man not take a hint? “I need to use the bathroom,” she mumbled, embarrassed to be having such a personal discussion with him.

Apparently, it wasn’t something that bothered him, though, because instead of leaving, he leaned against the wall. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave you in here alone. These floors are stone. If you pass out again, they could do serious damage.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she put her hands on her hips. “There is no way I’m peeing with you in here.”

Giving her a chastising look, he said, “Angel, not only have you already done it in front of me, I kept you from falling off the toilet and onto the floor. Not to mention, I had to—”

“Oh, my God—please stop!” She moaned in horror, knowing exactly what he’d been about to say. How could that have happened? What was wrong with her?

Quirking an amused brow, he stepped back through the doorway. “I’ll wait out here, but don’t close the door all the way in case I need to rescue you—again.”

Crystal pondered not only shutting the door but locking it as well. He’d probably just break the damn thing down, though. There was no way she could actually do her business with him so close. She was a timid tinkler at the best of times. Therefore, she turned the water on full blast in the sink and giggled as she imagined him wondering if she was flooding the bathroom.

After taking care of business, she washed her hands but left the water running. She needed a moment to process what had happened since she’d woken up here. How in the world had she ended up with Mark DeSanto? In what world did someone like her find herself in this sort of situation? The last thing she remembered was leaving work early because she hadn’t been feeling well and then throwing up on a pair of expensive shoes. Shit!

Please, no. Tell me I didn’t toss my cookies all over my fantasy man. Fate could not be that cruel. Then there was the issue of her clothing—or lack thereof. She was wearing what she could only guess was one of Mark’s shirts and her panties. She knew her bra was missing even before she confirmed that fact by pressing a hand against her chest. Had he—? No, surely she had been able to change her own clothing.

As her thoughts raced, she made the mistake of looking up and almost screamed at the sight of her reflection. Oh, sweet heaven, the image in the mirror staring back at her was beyond terrible. She looked like a rabid animal. Instead of nursing her to health, she was surprised he hadn’t called animal control to have her put down. Her hair was sticking out in all directions, and her eyes were puffy, bloodshot, and rimmed in black like a koala bear’s. Looking around frantically, she spotted a cabinet in the corner and said a silent prayer of thanks when she found a stack of washcloths as well as a comb inside it. She wet one and began washing her face.

Crystal was just attempting to tame her hair when Mark called out, “Are you all right in there?”

“I’m fine,” she yelled back before turning the water off. Grimacing at her reflection, she put the comb down and decided there wasn’t much more she could do at this point. She was in need of a shower, but that could wait until she got some answers from Mark. Schooling her features into an impassive line, she opened the door and tried not to drool in his direction. Did the man have to be so freaking hot? You probably wouldn’t have been stalking him for months at the office if he weren’t quite so good-looking, her inner voice chided.

She had been smitten with him practically from the first glimpse. Mia had caught her ogling him in the coffee shop of Danvers one morning. She’d unknowingly poured half a container of sugar in her coffee, while watching him add creamer to his. Then she’d done something completely juvenile and pulled her cell phone out to snap a picture of the unsuspecting hunk. She had thought him the most handsome man she’d ever seen. Tall, dark, and polished in his obviously expensive suit. He’d seemed so unaware of all of the female attention centered on him. One thing that had really drawn her attention was how he’d run a hand through his hair repeatedly as if stressed over something. Crystal had never been prone to developing crushes, but something had changed for her in that instant. There was no denying her attraction to him. She must have looked at the picture she had taken dozens of times, and her curiosity had been well and truly whetted.

Maybe it was the fact that she was more lonely than she would care to admit, but she found herself watching for him around the office from then on, even going so far as to go to his floor for no reason other than to catch a glimpse of him again. She’d also checked social media and been thrilled to find he had both Facebook and Twitter accounts. He wasn’t a celebrity as such, but according to Google he was a wealthy business owner who attended high-profile charity events on a regular basis. He was photographed often at these gatherings, no doubt due to his drop-dead good looks. Possibly a big part of her attraction to him was the fact that he appeared so opposite from her ex-husband. Bill had never possessed the type of power and confidence that Mark seemed to emit so effortlessly.

She snapped from her daze as he looked her over as if checking for injuries before motioning for her to follow him. He flipped on the lights to dispel the darkness as they passed through a hallway that was made almost entirely of glass. She saw water in the distance and was just opening her mouth to ask about it when he glanced over his shoulder, saying, “The house is on the ocean. I live near Jason and Gray.”

She’d been to both Jason Danvers’s and Gray Merimon’s homes since she was friends with their wives, Suzy and Claire. Well—technically, her sister, Ella, was friends with them. Crystal was more like an acquaintance through her family connection. She liked both women a lot, though, and sometimes had lunch with them along with Ella, Suzy’s sister-in-law Beth, Mia, and more recently, Emma, Ava, and Gwen. Gwen Day and Mia Gentry were her best friends, and she was lucky enough to see them at work almost every day.

“I thought you lived in Charleston,” Crystal blurted out before realizing that she wouldn’t know that unless she’d been looking him up online.

He didn’t seem to find anything strange about the question, though, saying simply, “I have homes in several places. Living in a hotel gets old after a while, and since I’m spending a great deal of time in Myrtle Beach now, it just made sense to have a more permanent place here.”

Mark flipped on another light and she saw they were now in a gourmet kitchen straight from the pages of a magazine, with designer black granite countertops and a huge island. Next to it were a commercial-size stainless steel stove and refrigerator. The area was easily five times bigger than her galley kitchen in her own apartment. If she had this kind of space, she thought, then she might actually enjoy cooking, a pastime that had been spoiled for her during her marriage to her ex-husband. Bill had insisted on a full meat-and-potatoes type of meal each evening, which in itself might not have been bad if he hadn’t felt the need to criticize her efforts the entire time he was cleaning his plate. No matter what she made, it was never good enough for him.

She perched on the edge of one of the barstools that he’d indicated before saying, “You have a really nice kitchen. Do you cook a lot?”

He smirked as if she’d said something amusing. “I’d like to say that I’m a whiz in the kitchen like the Merimon brothers, but my skills in that particular area are pretty basic. I can do enough to get by, but I’m on the go a lot, so I tend to eat before I come home.”

Laughing, Crystal said, “I’ve heard Suzy and Beth talk about how Nick and Gray were raised to work out their problems in the kitchen. I guess they cooked with their mother while they talked. It sounds as if they could open their own bakery if they ever decided to change professions.” Thinking of her own overbearing mother, she added, “I wish I had grown up with someone that nurturing.”

Mark paused for a moment in the act of adding bread to a toaster, then he said quietly, “Yeah, I wouldn’t know a whole helluva lot about that either. Celine DeSanto’s idea of parental bonding was to help my father remain upright until dinner was finished. Otherwise, he’d be passed out cold before the salad course was over.”

Crystal didn’t know what to say to the information that he’d just revealed. The stiff set of his shoulders said that he wouldn’t welcome her sympathy, so instead, she changed the subject. “So, why am I here? I’ve put together enough to know that I must have gotten sick—possibly on your shoes,” she added weakly. “But I don’t recall anything other than that.”

He worked silently for a moment before setting two pieces of dry toast in front of her along with a chilled bottle of water from the refrigerator. “I know it’s not a great breakfast, but I think we should be cautious since you were still feeling nauseous just a short while ago.” Pointing to the food, which she still hadn’t touched, he added, “Now eat, while I talk.” She began nibbling on the bread while he seated himself across from her. “I was walking a few steps behind you when you left Danvers two days ago.”

“Two days?” she gasped out. “I’ve been here that long?”

“It was pretty late by the time we got here on Friday, so not quite two days. You were staggering, so I asked you if you were feeling okay. You said you were fine, but then you promptly puked on me before passing out. My driver and I managed to get you into my car with the intention of taking you to a hospital. In the end, my house was closer, and I decided to bring you here first. You seemed a bit better when we arrived, and I hated to move you again. Therefore, I paid an absurd amount of money for my personal physician to make a house call. He did some blood work and—”

“WHAT?” Crystal gasped. “You took my blood while I was out of it?”

He gave her a puzzled look before shaking his head in amusement. “Angel, I’m not a vampire, so I didn’t personally take your blood. Dr. Francis handled that. I can assure you that he followed the same protocol here that he would have in the hospital. You’ll be glad to know that you’re not pregnant.” Wiggling a brow, he added, “Good news for both of us, right?”

“You—I,” she stuttered before managing to take a deep breath. “I could have saved you some money. I already knew that. You have to actually have sex to get pregnant!” she snapped. “And I’ve only been here for two days. I don’t think there was much risk of you being made a father this quickly. So I’m not sure why you’re relieved at the news.”

He began laughing, and dammit, she could only stare at him, admiring how sexy he looked when he smiled. It wasn’t fair for one man to have so much going for him. His midnight-black hair was thick and just begged for a woman’s hands to tug on the shiny strands. Even through the loose shirt he was wearing, she could see the defined muscles of his shoulders and chest. He would no doubt have a set of washboard abs that you’d yearn to lick, and his eyes were an intense shade of blue that glowed back at her like twin sapphires. Somehow, he managed to be pretty, sexy, and rugged all at the same time. Her clit throbbed with pent-up desire, and she had to fight the need to wrap herself around his waist and beg him to fuck her—hard. She’d never had a sexual experience like that before, but she’d read enough romance novels to know that was what she wanted in the worst way. And she knew instinctively that Mark was a man who could give it to her.

She was still lost in her fantasy when a hand on her bare leg jolted her back to the present. She was almost certain by the grin on Mark’s face that he knew she was having dirty thoughts about him. “Well, it just clears the way, since you’ve expressed your desire to have sex with me several times in the