Читать книгу Millionaire Playboys: Paying the Playboy's Price - Emilie Rose - Страница 12

Rex prowled around Juliana’s den like a caged animal. Examining an item here, looking out a window there, but never remaining still for more than a few seconds.

With her senses hyperaware of each shift of his muscular frame, Juliana sipped her favorite locally produced peach wine and tugged at the hem of the sundress she’d changed into after returning from the pool.

The fuchsia dress had hung in her closet unworn for years because the bodice dipped lower than she liked, and the hem was inches higher than comfortable. She’d bought it and the ridiculously high-heeled matching sandals for a cruise she, Andrea and Holly had scheduled to celebrate their twenty-seventh birthdays but had never taken due to Juliana’s emergency appendectomy.

“I’ll repay you for everything you’ve spent on Irma, the life jackets, the doll clothes, whatever. How much do I owe ya?” Rex’s gaze raked her exposed skin for the third time. He glanced away and looked again, convincing Juliana that her sexy dress was worth every penny she’d paid for it even if she never wore it again.

She crossed her legs and then smoothed her hem. Rex’s eyes tracked each movement. Hmm. Interesting. Leaning forward, she deposited her wineglass on the coffee table and hooked a finger beneath the thin gold chain at her neck. Rex’s dark eyes fastened on the stroke of her fingers inside the V-neck of her bodice. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

A sense of feminine power swelled inside her. He was attracted to her. What would it take to break through his restraint? C’mon, bad boy, corrupt me.

What had he said again? Oh, yes. “Your sister is covering Irma’s salary. The rest…” She shrugged and gestured to where Becky and Liza played dress-up with their dolls in the corner. “It’s my pleasure. The girls and I are having fun.”

“I insist.”

“Your sister said you would. The answer’s still no, Rex.” She kicked her ankle just a little, dangling the sandal from her toes just to see if he’d watch. He did. She bit the inside of her lip to stop a pleased smile.

His fists clenched and unclenched. “Kelly called this morning. Mike made it through surgery and he’s stable. Now it’s a wait-and-see game, but the doctors are optimistic.”

She uncrossed her legs and shifted on the sofa. The move inched her hem higher—a bonus she hadn’t anticipated. “For Kelly and the girls’ sake I hope he pulls through.”

“Yeah.” The word was little more than a grunt. His gaze never left her legs.

“Are you sure you don’t want some wine? I’m sorry I don’t have beer.” She leaned forward to retrieve her glass and savored the shift of his eyes to her cleavage. Her nipples tightened.

A femme fatale is born. The incongruity of the statement nearly made her laugh out loud. She loved the way Rex’s hot glances made her feel all restless and warm. Parts of her body tingled that had never tingled before.

“No thanks.”

Sometimes an account investigation led her in a surprising direction. She’d learned to trust her instincts and go with it. “Then could you stop pacing and sit down?” She patted the cushion beside her. “You’re making the girls nervous.”

A lie. The girls had quit watching him circle the room ten minutes ago, but each pass of those lean hips through her line of vision pushed her closer to sensory overload. My gosh, she was ogling him and his um…parts, and she really wanted to know if he lived up to the promise in those jeans. Her bold thoughts made her cheeks burn.

He lowered himself into a chair on the opposite side of the coffee table, rested his elbows on his knees and then propped his head in his hands. Juliana studied his thick hair, the tense line of his shoulders and tightened her fingers around the stem of her wineglass instead of reaching across the distance to touch him the way she wanted. She’d never considered herself a sensual or tactile person, but the better she got to know Rex, the harder it was to resist the urge to touch him. His sleek hair. His rough jaw. His hard muscles.

She didn’t lack initiative in her professional life, but in her personal life she’d definitely be classified as a slow-starter. In light of Rex’s reaction tonight, she almost looked forward to making a move. Almost.

He lifted his head suddenly and his coffee-colored eyes pinned her in place. “Why me? The truth this time.”

The wine in her glass sloshed over her fingers. Stalling, she dabbed at the liquid with a tissue. He wouldn’t accept an evasive answer this time, she’d bet, and she wasn’t a gambling person. Her gaze flicked to the girls in the corner. How much did she dare explain? “Because I have a nice life.”

“What?” He sounded as if he thought she’d lost her mind.

“I’m thirty years old. I have a nice car, a nice home and a nice job. Nice is bland and boring. Like me. I hoped your auction package might jar me out of my ‘nice’ rut. There has to be more to life than nice, and if there is I don’t want to miss out.”

Wary understanding softened his eyes and then he leaned back in the chair and clasped his hands over his flat belly—a relaxed pose, but the intense look in his eyes was anything but relaxed. “I used to want more, too. And then I realized that more wasn’t as great as it sounded.”

She savored the tiny insight into his thoughts. “Your music career?”

Seconds ticked past as he studied his knotted fingers. “Yeah. I couldn’t wait to get off that ranch and be somebody besides Reed Tanner’s boy. Then I was. And everybody wanted me to be somebody else.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The record execs, my manager and my publicist signed me because I was different. And then they tried to turn me into a carbon copy of every other guy on the charts.”

“But you made it to the top without sounding like everyone else.” She wasn’t a country music fan, so her comparison wasn’t firsthand, but she’d read the online articles touting Rex’s unique sound and fresh way with words, and she enjoyed his music.

“I made it because I fought ’em every step of the way. The point is, you don’t have to try to be somebody you’re not.”

But who was she exactly? Until the pressure to marry Wally had come about, Juliana had been certain she knew. For as far back as she could remember, she’d been groomed to take her place in the Alden Bank executive offices. That goal had always taken precedence over anything and anyone else. And she’d been happy with that decision. A life without emotional ups and downs suited her. She’d had a ringside seat when Andrea had fallen head-over-heels in love and when her friend had crash-landed with a broken heart. Afterward, Juliana had considered guarding her heart and avoiding the same kind of pain a good idea.

But now she had her doubts. Look at Irma. Her former nanny had dedicated herself to a career of caring for other women’s children. Now that age had forced Irma to retire from the job that had defined her, what did she have left? Nothing. No family. No hobbies. Juliana didn’t want to be left with nothing, but she wasn’t sure meekly falling in with her mother’s plans was the answer.

The foundation she’d built her life on was shaking and she didn’t know if it would settle or crumble beneath her.

She lifted her gaze to the man in front of her. “Was fighting for what you wanted worth it?”

If it had been, then why had he left his dreams behind?

He shot to his feet. “Becoming my own man was a journey I had to take, but I was selfish. I hurt people along the way. And I let ’em down. I shouldn’t have.”

Who had he let down? And how?

Before she could ask, he turned to Becky and Liza. “Girls, we gotta go. Get your stuff and say good night.”

Juliana wanted to dig deeper, but in the hustle to gather the girls’ belongings there wasn’t time or opportunity for questions. She walked the trio to Rex’s truck and helped buckle the girls into their car seats. First Liza and then Becky insisted on giving her a hug and kiss good-night, and the gestures tugged at Juliana’s heart.

“Thanks for dinner,” he said as he started the truck.

Juliana stepped back, folded her arms and watched them drive out of sight. Would she ever have children? The odds didn’t favor her chances. At thirty years old, she’d never come close to finding a man with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life. Sure, she’d had relationships, but her dedication to her job had always outweighed her commitment to the man in question, and none of her dates had ever interested her enough to make her want to leave work early or take a day off. If not for Andrea and Holly, she’d probably never take a vacation.

If you marry Wally, you could have children. Yet another plus in the Wally column. So why couldn’t she just agree to the engagement and be done with it? Why vacillate? Was she being unrealistic to want more than a good rapport with her spouse? Was true intimacy a fallacy perpetuated by romantic books and movies? And was she even capable of letting someone get that close?

Juliana’s office door burst open Monday just before lunch. She marked her place on the ledger with a finger and glanced up. Her mother’s scowl turned Juliana’s stomach into a hornet’s nest. Clearly, the avoidance punishment had ended. “Hello, Mother.”

Margaret Alden slapped a newspaper onto Juliana’s desk. “This is outrageous.”

The Saturday edition lay open to Octavia Jenkins’s column, “Love at Any Price?” Juliana masked a wince. So much for hoping her mother would miss the article. “Octavia is trying to sell papers, and she’s supporting your pet charity. Did you notice she gave the address to which donations can be mailed?”

“Have you read this? Do you realize the damage she’s done to your engagement?”

Juliana should have known her mother wouldn’t ask her if she had feelings for Rex or if the column was off base. They’d never had that kind of relationship. No, Juliana had shared her confidences with Irma, Andrea and Holly.

“I’m not engaged yet, and if you read the entire article, then you’ll see that Octavia has also implied a romantic entanglement between Wally and Donna and Eric and Holly.”

Juliana had hated reading about her brother and her best friend, and she hoped Octavia had her facts wrong, and yet Juliana was afraid to call Holly and find out. “You know those aren’t true.”

“I certainly hope Eric isn’t involved with Holly. She has disappointed her parents terribly by living out in that shack like a bohemian.”

“It’s not a shack. It’s a restored farmhouse and her studio.” She’d said the words so many times before they came out in a singsong chorus.

“And Wallace knows better. That woman is not one of us.”

The snobbery offended Juliana. She should have been used to it by now since she’d heard it her entire life. “You mean she wasn’t born wealthy and didn’t have everything handed to her on a silver platter?”

Her mother’s nose lifted. “You and Eric didn’t have everything handed to you.”

“Yes, we did, Mother. Everything except respect, which we’ve had to fight an uphill battle to earn.” And our parents’ attention, which seemed connected to perfect behavior, Juliana added silently. The friends she’d had in school who’d dared to disobey had been shipped off to boarding school. Juliana had always followed the rules for fear of being sent away from Irma, Andrea, Holly and home.

“I’m calling the newspaper to have Ms. Jenkins removed from this series.”

Juliana sighed and pushed back an errant strand of hair. “Sex sells, Mother. Octavia is doing her job.”

“Are you saying you’re having sex with that…that man?”

A rush of heat swept Juliana’s face. “No, but even if I were sleeping with Rex, it wouldn’t be any of your business.”

“Don’t make it my business by ruining this merger. By this time next year, Alden-Wilson will be the largest privately held bank in the southeast, and I will be the CEO.”

“Only if Mr. Wilson is willing to step aside, and from what Wally has said, his father’s not all that interested in being second in command. Mother, you may not win this one.” Juliana admired her mother’s ambition. All her life, she’d heard tales of how Margaret Alden had had it all—husband, family and career. Juliana wanted it all, too.

A smug smile curved her mother’s lips. “Let me worry about that. You worry about making amends with Wallace. And make sure this little hussy isn’t encroaching on your territory. Don’t let me down, Juliana. This merger is far too important for you to jeopardize it with an unsuitable fling. Are we clear?”

She stalked out of Juliana’s office as abruptly as she’d entered it.

Juliana sat back in her chair. Don’t let me down. The battle cry of her life. But this time the feeling that the merger might be more important to her mother than Juliana’s life and happiness unsettled her.

The suffocating straitjacket feeling that had driven her to buying the baddest bachelor on the block closed in on her, squeezing her ribs and compressing her lungs.

Last chance. Last chance.

She had to get out of here. She closed the ledger, withdrew her purse from her desk drawer and locked up. On the way out, she paused by her administrative assistant’s desk. “I’m leaving for the day.”

And then she turned her back on the woman’s gaping mouth, walked out into the afternoon sunshine, took a deep breath of the hot, humid air and tasted freedom.

Trapped in his own damned apartment.

Rex knew he could lie, claim he had business downstairs and escape, leaving Juliana to listen for the girls. But he wasn’t a coward. In the past, his failure to face his mistakes had cost him. He wouldn’t run again. He’d agreed to the auction, agreed to keep the girls. That meant any fallout from those choices was his and his alone.

But damn. A man could only take so much, and his resistance had been slipping since Juliana had surprised him and the girls at the barn this afternoon with a picnic lunch. She’d spent the next four hours laughing, teasing and playing with Liza and Becky, and he’d discovered yet another facet to the formerly uptight auditor. A side he liked too much.

Restless, edgy and as horny as hell, he paced his den. A beautiful woman wanted him. The feeling was mutual. Why did he keep fighting the hunger that chewed him from the inside out? Because sleeping with Juliana would be mixing business with pleasure. Always a bad idea. But more important was that giving in to the craving inside him would open the door to his biggest weakness.

But he ached for her. The smell of her. The taste of her. The feel of her. Wrapped around him. Just once.

Fool. Having a little sex with Juliana is about as safe as a recovering alcoholic taking just one drink. You’ll be sucked back into the world that almost destroyed you so fast you’ll never recover.

Juliana stepped out of the girls’ bedroom and closed the door. Rex’s stomach hit the soles of his boots.

She looked like a combination of angel and siren with her sable hair hanging loose. The strands teased her bare shoulders and the cleavage revealed by a fragile, fluttery pale blue top that ended a couple of inches above low-rider jeans. A wide woven belt circled her hips with its tasseled ties swaying over no-man’s-land with every hypnotizing stride she took toward him. Those tassels affected his libido like a flashing neon Come and Get It sign.

He dragged his gaze up to the half smile on her face. Trouble. Pure trouble. Sweat oozed from his pores, dampening his upper lip, chest and back. His heart drummed harder, faster. His breathing turned shallow.

“The girls are out for the night.”

Her whisper sent a bead of sweat snaking down his spine. He suppressed a shiver. “You should turn in. Early start tomorrow.”

“It’s only nine. Why don’t you put on some music?” She sank onto the sofa and crossed her legs. She’d removed her shoes at some point. Her pink-tipped toes wiggled, and the lamp reflected off a gold toe ring on her right second toe and glittered on an ankle bracelet.

Oh, man. He swallowed, but his mouth remained as dry as a dust bowl. “No stereo.”

She blinked. “You don’t own a stereo? Isn’t that a little unusual given your previous occupation?”

“Music’s no longer a part of my life.”

“Why?”

For a lot of reasons, none of which he’d share. “No time.”

“Was it hard to walk away from something you loved?”

Dammit. Why did she insist on getting inside his head? Every time they met, she peppered him with questions. “No.”

Liar. There were times—like today, like now—when feelings bottled up inside him and his fingers twitched for his guitar so he could pour out those emotions. As a teen and later as an adult, he’d worked through his tangled thoughts with music, singing, writing lyrics or just playing melodies long into the night. Sometimes he’d thought music was the only thing that kept him sane.

The more time he spent with Juliana, the more his thoughts strayed to the old Fender in the back of his closet. But he wouldn’t pull out the instrument, wouldn’t let her force him back into that world. A world that had cost him his family, his home, his friends and his self-respect.

She rose and crossed to where he stood by the window overlooking the dark street below. He sucked in an unsteady breath and her spices-and-flowers scent filled his nostrils. “How did you do it? How did you find the courage to make your own life?”

The uncertainty in her eyes knocked him senseless. If she’d boldly come on to him, whispered naughty intentions in his ear or just planted those delicious red lips on his, he could have resisted her. Probably. But the doubts clouding her eyes shredded his defenses.

“What’s wrong with your life?” From where he stood, her life looked pretty damned good.

She tipped her head back. Her breath swept across his lips and his pulse stalled. “Expectations. Theirs. Mine. Sometimes it feels like my life’s not my own and what I want doesn’t matter.”

Sympathy softened his clenched muscles. This was the stuff she hadn’t told the reporter, either, the first night or tonight. And he’d bet these were the demons that had driven her to buy him at the auction. He wanted to know more and yet he didn’t. Knowing meant understanding. Understanding meant weakening. Weakening meant failing. Himself. Kelly. The girls. Juliana.

He didn’t want to like Juliana, didn’t want to respect her, but if anybody could understand the pressure of others’ expectations, he could.

He rolled his tense shoulders. “I know what you mean. For as far back as I can remember, my life was mapped out. Most kids get asked what they want to be when they grow up. Nobody ever asked me. I was born to take over the family ranch like my father and my grandfather before him.”

“But that’s not what you wanted?”

Just thinking about being tied to the ranch made his skin shrink. “I didn’t want to spend year after year worrying about drought, disease or whether there would be enough money left to put food on the table after a rough winter. I didn’t want to die young because I worked myself into an early grave like my grandfather. I wanted more. And I wanted out. Out of that one-stoplight town. Out from under my father’s thumb.”

Why hadn’t he ever tried to explain his fears to his parents instead of hurling abuse at them? “I took off. But not without burning my bridges first. I followed my heart. That doesn’t mean it didn’t get me into trouble.”

Her teeth worried her bottom lip. He fisted his hands against the urge to free the soft swell from assault. “So you do understand. And all I need is the courage to follow my heart?”

“Something like that, but there are always consequences for the choices you make, Juliana. And sometimes by the time you realize the price you’ve paid is too high, it’s too late to fix it.”

All she needed was courage, but courage was the one thing Juliana lacked most at the moment.

If this had been a face-off with the top dog at the FDIC, she’d have been rock steady, but all she wanted was to feel like a woman instead of a pawn in a banking merger. The passion in Rex’s kiss could give her that.

His heat and masculine scent ensnared her. Juliana’s legs trembled and she felt slightly dizzy from an adrenaline rush. Couldn’t he tell how much she needed his touch? Why wouldn’t he kiss her?

Why don’t you kiss him?

A novel idea. And a scary one. But taking an active role wasn’t nearly as scary as it once had been because she liked and trusted Rex.

But what if he rebuffed her again? Would she have to give up and admit her tepid romance with Wally was all she deserved? A touch of panic quickened her pulse.

“What is it you want so badly?” he asked.

“I want to take control of my life, to do something just because I want to not because it’s expected or because it’s the wisest course of action.” She swallowed and dampened her lips. “I want you, Rex Tanner.”

His eyes slammed shut and his jaw muscles bunched. “Bad idea.”

“I think it’s a great idea.” Faking moxie she didn’t possess, she rose on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his. He stiffened and remained as rigid as a sun-baked brick wall while she brushed her lips over his once, twice, a third time. If not for the rapid hammering of his heart beneath the palms she’d braced on his chest, she’d think him unaffected. Encouraged by that telling sign, she licked his bottom lip. A groan rumbled from deep in his throat.

Slowly, she settled back on her feet. “Show me how to take control, Rex.”

A battle raged in his eyes. Just when she’d convinced herself she’d played her cards and lost, and her hopes began to sink, he snatched her upper arms, yanked her close and slammed his mouth over hers in a hard, unrestrained kiss.

Shock lasted scant seconds and then a myriad of sensations engulfed her. The inferno of his tongue as it sliced through the seam of her lips to tangle with hers, the heat of his hands as they splayed over her hips and pulled her against the branding iron of his erection combined with his taste and scent to overwhelm and arouse her beyond her wildest expectations. The infusion of pure, undiluted passion made Juliana drunk with desire and doubly glad she’d never been exposed to this level of arousal before, because without a doubt, the rush was addictive.

His hands skated upward until his thumbs reached the bare skin above her jeans. He drew circles on either side of her navel. She broke the kiss to gasp for air. The simple caress made her a lover of low-rider jeans for life. Her gaze lifted from his beard-shadowed jaw to kiss-dampened lips and then to his dark, hungry eyes.

His unblinking gaze held hers as one big hand coiled in the dangling end of her belt, holding her captive. The other raked upward, sweeping beneath her voile camisole and over her waist and ribs to cup her breast. Her fragile bra was no barrier to the back-and-forth motion of his thumb over the sensitive tip. A knot of need tightened in her belly, pulling tauter with each slow pass until every thought centered on quenching the fire he’d ignited. Her lids grew heavy. She fought to stay focused on Rex’s face.

No man had ever looked at her that way, as if he would strip her bare and take her where she stood or die trying.

She liked it. Liked knowing she’d reached the limits of his control. And hers.

A shiver chased over her skin. She’d always dreamed of a man who wanted her—her—not the Alden heiress. And she’d found him. Too bad forever wasn’t in the cards. Even if she wasn’t a boring bank auditor who calculated the odds of every endeavor, she could never hold the attention of a man who thrived on taking risks, a man who had the courage to confront his fears.

But she wouldn’t think about that. Not now.

He worked magic with his fingers, teasing her, tantalizing her. Her nails curled and unfurled against his chest, but his T-shirt was in the way. She wanted to touch his skin. Before she could pull the hem of his shirt from his waistband, he’d released the front catch of her bra and palmed her. Rational thought evaporated the moment his hot fingers enclosed her. She dug her nails into his waist, fisting cotton and tugging him closer.

His mouth slanted over hers, softer this time, but still ravenous. He suckled her bottom lip, bit it gently and then soothed her with his tongue.

One of them was trembling. Her? Him? Who cared?

He removed his hand, and she whimpered a protest at the loss of warmth, but then he whisked her top over her head and crushed the fragile fabric in his hand. He lifted it to his face and inhaled deeply as if drawing in her essence. Wow. So sexy. And then Rex backed toward the bedroom, leading her by the leash of her macramé belt. Her heart raced, yet her feet seemed to move in slow motion.

Inside the bedroom he stopped. “You’re a smart lady. Tell me to get out.”

She gulped air and responded by closing and locking the door. He dropped her blouse and flicked her bra straps over her shoulders with one finger. Juliana shrugged and the lacy garment fell to the floor. Rex traced the curves of her breasts with his eyes and then with long fingers. He grazed her tight nipples with his short nails and her breath shuddered in and out again. Dragging her by her belt, he backed toward the bed and sat, pulling her between his splayed legs to take her nipple into his hot mouth.

Her head fell back on a moan. She slapped her fingers over her mouth. With the girls next door, she had to be quiet. And for the first time in her life, being quiet during sex might be a challenge.

Rex untied her belt, but held both ends, holding her hostage—not that she intended going anywhere now that he was finally doing what she’d hoped for all along. He ravaged her breasts with gentle scrapes of his raspy evening beard, soft tugs from his seductive lips and silken swipes from his hot, wet tongue, and then he drew her deep into his mouth. Her knees wobbled. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and then tangled them in his hair. His leather tie was in the way. She pulled it free and combed her fingers through the long, soft strands.

Rex plucked at the button and zip of her jeans. His knuckles brushed her navel and her stomach muscles rippled involuntarily. His big palm scorched a path from one hip to the other as he eased the snug denim down one inch at a time. By the time he got the fabric to her knees, she was ready to rip her jeans off, throw them across the room and beg him to fill the empty ache expanding inside her. She braced herself on his shoulders and stepped out of the pants. Eager, impatient, she burned with an unfamiliar urgency.

Rex drew back to examine her itty-bitty panties with an appreciative gaze. Had she ever felt this desirable in her life? No. Bless the lingerie store at the mall.

His fingers hooked under the lace, raking her panties down her legs and discarding them, and then he lifted her jeans from the floor, pulled the belt free of the loops and stretched it between his hands. With slow, deliberate movements he wound the ends around each wrist. Her heart missed a beat.

“Close your eyes and turn around, Juliana.” The rough order made her quiver.

The time for her walk on the wild side had arrived. The question was did she have the courage to follow through?