Читать книгу Son Of Scandal - Dani Wade - Страница 10

One

“Dance with me?”

Ivy looked at the outstretched hand, surprised and nonplussed at the same time. Her own fingers clenched over the itch in her palm. The itch that told her to reach out, to take what she coveted.

After a year and a half of carefully keeping Paxton McLemore at arm’s length, did she dare step in close for a waltz?

They were at a masquerade ball, after all. The most glamorous charity event of the year, planned by her sister Jasmine Harden, Savannah’s most noted event planner. Dancing with Paxton would be a natural action. One that wouldn’t be judged by those around them, even though he was her employer. But she would know. Could she successfully hide how she felt when she was that close?

Though he wore a traditional black mask, she’d recognize his brilliant amber eyes anywhere—not just because of the intense color, but also the ever-present flash of intelligence and intuition she observed every day as his executive assistant.

It was just a dance... Why did she hesitate?

Suddenly he wiggled the fingers of the hand she had left dangling by her indecision. She smiled; the silly gesture was a charming reminder of the lighthearted moments they shared every day at work.

Ivy finally reached her hand out to his.

“You know, there’s been a change in my office,” Paxton said as his warm fingers curled around hers. “This new assistant came to work for me, and she makes me smile every day.”

A glow warmed Ivy’s core as he lifted her hand to graze her knuckles with his sculpted lips. She glanced down at their clasped hands as Paxton led her toward the dance floor in Keller House’s renovated ballroom.

Though she should be focused on doing her part to make sure the incredible masquerade ball her sister had orchestrated ran smoothly, Ivy let thoughts of caterers and fund-raisers and responsibility fall away. But with a single touch, the struggle to breathe became real. It took her a moment to realize the truth—Paxton had never touched her before this.

Oh, she went out of her way to make him smile at the office, to soften the strain of his intense focus on work. Though her crush had intensified since she’d been working for him, she’d kept her actions and words strictly professional.

No touching. Until tonight.

Before she could register what was happening, they’d moved onto the dance floor and Paxton had turned to face her. He opened his arms, inviting her in. Ivy blinked—once, twice.

This is dangerous.

She chose to ignore her mind’s warnings. Ivy stepped forward, and they took the waltz position, but didn’t move. Instead Paxton’s eyes widened at the initial contact, as if he, too, could feel the electric shock as they embraced.

Then his eyelids lowered to half-mast, taking on a slumberous, sexy look. A look she’d only seen in her fantasies.

Her heartbeat sped up, thrumming at the base of her throat. He took the first step, leading her in a modern-day version of the traditional dance.

Even though the warning bells she’d been silencing for a year were back full force, Ivy let his arms close around her, pull her closer. As they danced under the crystal chandeliers, amid dozens of other couples in the impeccably restored ballroom, the moment felt surreal. Out of time. His black tux was classic. The striking contrast between it and her emerald-green ball gown caught her eye as they glided past the wall of ornately framed mirrors.

The decadent illusion was dangerous—just like him.

She’d tried hard since her parents died to be practical, independent. But a small, hidden part of her still clung to the fantasy of fairy tales and Prince Charming.

Tonight, that part of her refused to be denied.

So she let him lead her, turn her, bend her to his touch. The touch that she’d fantasized about for the last year and a half she’d worked for him. During their daily routine, she’d resisted the pull of attraction, attempted to distract herself with clients and travel arrangements and meeting preparations. She’d thrown herself into the busy schedule of the head of the manufacturing division of his family’s shipping conglomerate. But at the most unexpected of moments, she’d find herself immersed in far more intimate thoughts than she should have about her boss.

Tonight, he was that dream come to life. His touch and the intensity of his gaze made her feel beautiful, wanted. Her body tingled whenever he pressed close. This far surpassed her simple fantasies. The feelings were intense. Impossible to ignore.

They moved through the sea of people as if alone. The way her heart raced and her skin tingled with every brush of his hand was pure magic.

Every time logic attempted to assert itself, the intensity of his stare pushed it back. She wanted nothing more than to be his entire focus and let reality melt away.

He drew her closer, cocooning her in his arms. His gaze turned hungrier. His body grew harder.

Somewhere in the intensity, Ivy’s resistance evaporated and she knew she’d go wherever he led her.

Even when the song was over and she had left him to do her hostessing rounds for her sister, she caught glimpses of him nearby. No matter how close or how far away, she could sense exactly where he was in the crowd. And it wasn’t long before they found each other again in the muffled quiet of the front foyer.

Ivy held her breath, uncertainty washing over her. “Paxton...”

“I know,” he said, reaching out to rub a finger over the velvet ribbon that held her mask in place. “I didn’t expect this either. But I can’t deny that I want you...very much.”

He leaned into her, his mint-scented breath making her mouth water.

“We shouldn’t...” she whispered, though her eyelids were already fluttering closed.

“I know...” He groaned.

Then his mouth covered hers and all protests were lost.

His kiss was just this side of demanding. Her body melted in acquiescence. He pressed closer, as if to absorb her surrender and claim his victory.

She knew how the night would end, and couldn’t find an ounce of hesitation in her mind or body. Not even when he had paused, giving logic an opening to fracture the fantasy.

“I know I shouldn’t ask you, that I have no right,” Paxton said, the intensity of his stare making her shiver. “But, Ivy, will you go home with me?”

In that moment fantasy ruled. Though she’d denied it for over a year, Ivy had never wanted anything more than she wanted to spend tonight in Paxton’s arms. “Yes. Yes, I will.”

The happiness and excitement Ivy felt left her in a very surreal place, as if she couldn’t quite grasp the reality of the decision she’d made.

Still she forced herself to be practical for one moment and made a quick call to her sister Jasmine. Hunting her down in the throngs of people would take too long. As she waited for Paxton to get the car brought around, Ivy heard the hesitation and concern in her sister’s voice. Her tone escalated to alarm as Ivy told her where she was going but Ivy couldn’t bring herself to care.

She’d spent the past year ignoring her family’s secret connection to Paxton’s. She justified taking the position with him by telling herself that he never had to know who she really was. Becoming his assistant had been a dream job for someone her age. With her drive to stand on her own two feet, there was no way she could have passed up such an incredible opportunity to advance. Or the temptation it had presented. Yes, it was a foolish hope. But maybe, just maybe, this was the right thing.

She glanced at the teardrop emerald on her right ring finger, swearing it actually twinkled in the subdued lighting on the front stone steps, where she waited. The piece of jewelry handed down to her and her sisters through generations of their family, who believed its magic would guide them to find their true love.

The professional Ivy wanted to scoff at the notion that the ring had anything to do with what was happening tonight. But the princess wannabe she hid deep down inside regarded the ring with a smile before she glanced up to see Paxton step out of the back of the company limo.

“Come with me?” he asked, reaching his hand out to her.

She knew what was happening. Knew he was giving her a way out at the same time that he made his preference known. He was a gentleman, through and through. Tonight, she wanted him to be hers.

He quickly handed her into the dim interior, which got even darker as he closed the door behind him. The driver pulled away from the curb right away. Paxton wasn’t wasting time on niceties. His urgency mirrored hers—much to her relief.

Paxton immediately distracted her from thoughts of rings, sisters and the fact that he was her boss. In the private world of the back seat, he embraced her without hesitation. Their decision was made.

He cupped her head in his large, warm hands, holding her steady for his kiss. In the tight space, every breath, every gasp, every moan was amplified. Then his hands traveled downward, heating up her neck, collarbone and the tops of her breasts. The air stuttered in her lungs as she ached for him to slip his hand beneath the edge of her dress. Instead his mouth followed the trail, creating a heated path of sizzling nerves. She arched into the pull of his lips and tongue and teeth against her skin.

Then he was slipping away from her, pulling back from the grip of her fingers around his upper arms. But the disappointment was quickly replaced by a thrill of both fear and need as he insinuated his big body between the V-shape of her thighs.

The thickly layered skirt of her ball gown proved no match for Paxton. She felt his long fingers close around her ankles in a firm grip, tight enough to let her know he was there without leaving a mark. Her thighs clenched as everything inside her tightened. She needed to surrender to that touch, to let him do with her what he chose.

His fingers traced down over her four-inch heels, a rumbling groan rolling out of his chest. A half smile escaped her, one he might see in the occasional streetlights they passed. They were nearing the city now.

Slowly his palms traced upward, beneath the layers of material. Cupping her calves. Rubbing her knees. Massaging her thighs. Ivy panted as she grew wet with need. Would he touch her there? Or would he leave her to wait?

His fingertips found the line of her garters. “Heaven help me, Ivy.” Without warning, he bunched up the heavy skirt and disappeared beneath it. His hands curled around her knees and pulled her forward. She felt open and vulnerable. She swallowed hard, wishing now for just a hint of the logic that had made a brief appearance earlier.

But it was nowhere to be seen.

His mouth met the tender skin right above the top of her thigh-high stockings, sucking hard as if he could swallow her into him. Her muscles tightened as if to push him away, but the move was merely instinctual. Truthfully, she wanted him to taste her there...wanted him to taste her more. His tongue flicked firmly along the upper lace edge, then along the garter, until he buried his face in the crook between her thigh and hip. She felt the breath he drew with every nerve ending in her body.

Abruptly the car halted, the brakes applied with a little more force than necessary.

But it was enough to bring Paxton to his senses. Thank goodness, because any mindfulness she had was long gone. Paxton made quick and careful work of returning her skirt to its original modest position. Then he opened the door and stepped outside. She heard him speaking with the driver, but when he reached in to help her out, the man was back behind the wheel. The car was speeding down the drive before Paxton had her halfway up his front walk.

Now they were alone together. No audience. Just the night and the two of them. The perfect ingredients for her own incredible fairy tale.

* * *

Paxton woke to incredible warmth.

The sun shining through the half-closed curtains heated the cool room. The tangle of his legs with the woman asleep beside him heated his skin. His body was alive with urgent need.

Then his brain kicked into gear.

Where it had been last night, he wasn’t sure. His body tightened as images rose from his memory. The full impact of what they’d done hit him in a rush.

His assistant. He’d spent the night with his assistant.

An incredible night...

He breathed deeply, attempting to mitigate the odd mix of desire and panic. To slow his racing heartbeat, cool his body’s ardor. Because they couldn’t do this again.

He’d been such a fool.

Paxton glanced over at Ivy. She faced away from him, but the smooth curve of her shoulder and waterfall of tangled blond hair drew him. Her beauty made him reach out to touch, but he clenched his hand into a fist instead to stop himself.

Last night he’d been blindsided by the need to bury his hands in that silky blond hair. He licked his lips as he remembered the taste of her skin last night, of her full lips, plump breasts and soft thighs. And that garter!

A flash of fever heated his bare skin.

But as he watched the sun flirt with her as she slept, the panic lurking in the background simply wouldn’t go away. What had he been thinking?

Well, he hadn’t been.

He urgently needed coffee; it would be a welcome distraction. He eased from the bed, careful not to rouse Ivy, reminding himself that she must be exhausted. She’d spent the last week working her full-time job with him, then helping her sister out with the charity ball. Then she’d spent all day Saturday preparing for the event, and Saturday night splitting the hostessing duties.

She had every right to be tired...and to sleep in.

Leaving her asleep had nothing to do with not wanting to face her...not wanting to tell her this could absolutely not go any further than it already had.

As he headed to the kitchen, he heard the faint noise of his phone vibrating against the foyer table. Instinctively he made a detour for it. One glance at the display told him his executive VP was on the other end of the line—and weekend calls were definitely not his thing. Paxton’s senses geared up for whatever emergency was coming his way.

“What’s up, Mike?”

“Where the heck have you been? I’ve been calling since 5:00 a.m.”

Paxton clenched his jaw. “I’m here now,” he said.

“We’ve got a problem,” Mike said, ignoring his tight tone. “Remember how we took a chance on not replacing the old super engine?”

Paxton groaned. His manufacturing plant in Virginia had been a buyout that they were in the process of refurbishing and upgrading. He’d had a tough time convincing his grandmother, who was still chairwoman of the board, that it was a worthwhile endeavor. This could be a major setback.

Mike went on. “Yep. It blew during the night. I’m gonna need some help out here.”

Which meant catching the first flight out to Virginia ASAP. Paxton would need to be on site to formulate his plan for the repairs or replacement, while still keeping the plant functioning. He signed off, then sighed. Not a good morning for this. The only thing he wanted was coffee, and the chance to figure out what he needed to say to the woman whom he’d had the most inappropriate skin-to-skin contact with ever in his life.

Well, maybe not the most...but he didn’t want to think about the past mistake that made him believe the present situation could end in doom, too.

Knowing he needed to get a move on, Paxton headed upstairs to the master suite to shower and then pack his bag. He felt a moment of relief when he remembered how he’d rushed Ivy into one of the downstairs bedrooms last night because he couldn’t wait to get her undressed, and because that was simply his MO with women.

At least he wouldn’t be haunted by memories of the passion they’d shared every night when he would lie down in his own bed.

He quickly finished dressing, then threw some clothes into a duffel bag. A few days at the plant in Virginia, then he and Ivy could have a nice long talk about what had happened between them last night. And what should happen between them now. Paxton had his future mapped out to a T. And his family was fully behind him. Marrying his assistant was not in his life plan.

Paxton hoped Ivy was on the same wavelength.

On his way out, he paused in the shadowy doorway of the downstairs bedroom. Ivy still slept, oblivious to his dilemma. He felt the urge to crawl back into that sun-kissed space beside her. He even took a single step forward.

But duty called.

His phone started vibrating in his pocket, warning him time was of the essence. In a quick scrawl, he wrote a note, letting Ivy know that he’d had to run, but she could call the car to take her home. He’d be back soon...and they would talk then.

Still he carried the memories of her sun-warmed skin and everything they’d done to each other in the dark of night as he rode to the airport, paced the VIP Lounge and then boarded the first standby flight he could get for Virginia. He thought a few times about texting her...but it just seemed like such an impersonal, lousy thing to do.

Maybe after a few days away, they could both gain some perspective on what they wanted, how they could return to their steady, professional relationship. Right? He rubbed his palm over his face. Hell, what if this blew up in his face big time?

He remembered the sun glinting off her loose mane of golden hair this morning. Why had she been hiding it in a severe ponytail all this time? Oh, he knew. His buttoned-up executive admin was the utmost professional. Hair always pulled back. Business suits, but only with skirts. He’d always been grateful that she didn’t cover up the smooth curve of her calves with dress pants. Instead she accentuated it by wearing smart, sexy heels.

He gulped the last of his hot, black coffee as the plane began to descend.

Of course, he’d been careful to only look when she was walking away from him. Still she’d caught him looking a time or two. Just like he’d found her doing the same. And even though there’d been definite sparks in the air every time they’d locked gazes in the office, neither of them had been willing to break the status quo. Until last night.

They’d been playing with fire, not realizing just when it would blow up.

Paxton forced himself to pick up his bag from the luggage carousel, and then headed outside to flag down a taxi. Mike had his hands full right now, so Paxton had told him not to worry about sending a car. As he settled into the back seat, he read the half dozen text messages waiting for him from Mike. Each one was worse than the next. Paxton may have gotten his start in industry through his family name and his grandmother’s owning the umbrella conglomerate, but his diverse interests, determination and leadership skills had earned him the success he enjoyed today as the CEO of an international shipping parts manufacturer...with his eye on running the entire conglomerate one day.

So why was his mind on the woman who was still asleep in his house, instead of the major issues awaiting him at the factory?