Читать книгу Secrets Of The Night: A Case of Kiss and Tell - Katherine Garbera, Ann Major, Ann Major - Страница 11

Conner felt more than a little regret as he held Nichole in his arms for what would probably be the last time, but he knew that he had to say goodbye to her. Though she stirred him as no one else had in a long time, she wasn’t the right woman for him. And despite owning a matchmaking business, he wasn’t even looking for someone.

Her lips under his were soft and her mouth tasted like the most exotic flavor he’d ever sampled. He was addicted to it, he thought, as he plunged his tongue deeper and deeper. He wanted to sate the hunger for her in this one kiss, but that didn’t seem possible.

He craved more. Why didn’t he just take what he wanted? It was clear that she wanted him, too, and though she was trying to use that desire as leverage to do a deal with him, in his arms she didn’t seem to remember that she was a reporter.

He swept his hands down her back, lingering at the small span of her waist. He lifted her off her feet and held her against him, feeling her almost melt into him as all plans of deals went out of his mind. All he wanted was for this kiss to never end.

She clung to his shoulders and her breasts rested so softly against his chest. He took two steps backward so he could lean against his desk and continue to hold on to her. Her legs parted and she brushed against his erection as she wrapped those long legs of hers around his hips. He moaned deep in his throat and heard an answering mewling sound from her.

He slid his hands from her knees up to her thighs as he’d been longing to do since she’d walked into his office and perched so femininely in his guest chair. She moved against him, her legs moving around his hips to find purchase with her knees. But the position was awkward and he cupped her butt in both his hands and turned them so she was sitting on the edge of his desk and he was standing between her spread thighs.

The movement pulled their mouths apart and she braced her hands on the desk behind her, looking up at him with those wide, fathomless eyes of hers. Her lips were wet and glistening from his kisses and there was a pretty pink flush of desire on her neck and upper chest.

“One more kiss and then I’ll ask my question,” she said.

He nodded, not even listening to her words beyond … one more kiss. He wanted their next kiss to end with him buried hilt-deep in her sexy body.

He lowered his head again and she started to lean up toward him, but he liked her spread out before him like a sexual offering and stopped her with a hand on her chest. “Stay like that.”

“Like this?” she asked, leaning back on her elbows again.

“Yes,” he said, his voice sounding guttural to his own ears.

He leaned down over her, taking his time, his hands slowly moving up from her waist to her breasts. He skimmed the edges of them at her side and then moved farther up, tracing the line of her collarbone and the skin underneath. “I love your freckles.”

She scrunched her nose up at him. “I don’t. They aren’t sexy.”

“On you they are,” he said, lowering his head to lap at one of them. “Are they all over your body?”

He felt her skin heat under his hand and he glanced up, surprised that she was blushing. “Yes.”

He growled as an image of her completely naked on his desk, covered only in those freckles, danced in his mind. He reached for the zipper at the side of her dress, but she stopped him with her hands on his and he realized he was in his office.

He stood up and started to walk away from her to cool down, but she pushed her fingers through his and drew his hand to her mouth where she kissed his palm. Then she lifted herself up into a sitting position.

She shifted forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and the motion moved her feminine core against his hardening shaft. She lifted her free hand to his neck and urged his head down toward hers.

The next moment their lips met and once again he found that the only thing that mattered was Nichole and this moment. This time she didn’t just let him devour her mouth, she was aggressive and passionate in the kiss as well—more of a participant this time. He felt her move his hand to her breast and then her hand fell away and he was cupping her through her bra and dress.

He had a realization that Nichole was bold and brash in her reporter mode, but the woman was a bit shier and softer. He liked that. He wanted to have that woman in his arms. But he knew that he could never separate the two.

This was goodbye and he needed to remember that. He wanted this complex woman, but these stolen moments in his office were all he was ever going to have.

He rubbed his forefinger over her breast as he plunged his tongue deep into her mouth and when he felt her nipple bud against his finger he concentrated his touch there. She shifted in his arms and then he felt the strong suck of her mouth on his tongue.

His hard-on strained against the front of his trousers and he used his other hand at her waist to draw her closer to him. He rubbed himself against her and felt her rock her hips against him.

He tipped his head to the side to take more of her mouth, wanting to see this through to climax. Nothing could stop them now. Their bodies knew what they wanted and now that they were touching their minds had stopped arguing for anything else.

He pulled the fabric away from her body and slipped one finger under to feel the softness of her skin.

There was a loud rap on the door and Conner stepped away from Nichole. He realized that he couldn’t let his body take over. This was probably how his father had gotten into the mess he’d made of their lives.

“Just a minute,” he called, turning back to see that Nichole was struggling to get up off the desk. There was a strong blush on her face and she looked unkempt. He gestured to his washroom. “Why don’t you take a minute to repair the damage I did.”

She nodded and walked across the room. As he watched her go, he knew that he’d had as much of Nichole as she could afford to give.

Nichole was losing control. She realized how little she had over herself and Conner. He was making a mockery of her and the entire interview. She had to stop compromising herself this way. She closed the door of the executive bathroom behind her and locked it.

She saw herself in the mirror. Her hair and clothes were disheveled and she hardly recognized the woman staring back at her. She met her own gaze and gave herself a frown.

“You worked hard for your career and you are about to let a man derail you,” she said to herself sternly, reaching into her purse for her makeup bag.

“Dammit, Nic, you can do this. You can beat him.” She reapplied her lipstick and put some powder on her nose. Then she straightened her clothing, turning to make sure she looked as good from the back as she did from the front.

On the plus side, she could definitely count on the fact that she had kept Conner off balance. But her plan to beat a strategic retreat had almost backfired. She’d underestimated her own desire for him. And that ticked her off. She’d always been in control in her attractions with other men.

She’d learned early on to keep a level head, but Conner somehow had gotten through her guard. She knew that she’d never be able to sleep with him and still be the calm, cool reporter she prided herself on being.

And without that who was she?

She leaned in close to the mirror, searching for the answer, but the woman looking back had no answers. She realized that she was taking too long in here. She didn’t want Conner to think that she was scared to come back out or to even let him guess he might have gotten the upper hand in their negotiations.

Which, even she had to admit, he had.

She opened the door and found that he was standing across the room staring out the plate-glass windows at the city below. She walked over to stand next to him. Having grown up in Texas with lots of wide-open spaces, she always found it a little breathtaking to see the cityscape spread out before her.

“I think you owe me one answer,” she said.

“I believe I do,” he said. His voice was firm and calm, but he seemed subdued around her now.

She wondered if their embrace had shaken him as well. It was easy to look at him and see a man who was always in control of his life and his environment, but she had seen little chinks in that facade.

“Fire away,” he said.

But she was still muddled and the questions she wanted answers to had nothing to do with an article. She wanted to know why a normal relationship was out of the question with him. Why he’d only consent to take her as a mistress when it was clear he wanted her. But that wasn’t the question to ask now.

She cleared her throat. “Let me grab my notebook.”

“By all means,” he said, walking back to his desk and sitting down.

It was hard to believe he’d been kissing her so passionately only a few minutes ago. Sitting before her was a totally different man … the man she’d been expecting him to be from the beginning.

Given that this might be her last chance to question him, she wanted to make it count. She took a deep breath and asked the question she really wanted an answer to. One that was highly personal and one that, depending on the answer, could give her the backbone for her entire article.

“I’ve read finance magazines that say your business acumen is very much like your father’s. Are you still single today because that’s not the only area in which you and he are the same? Do you fear making the same mistakes he did?”

His mouth tightened and she knew that her probing questions were making his hackles rise, but he owed her. She’d given him much more than the one kiss he’d asked for. And she was fairly confident that he was an honorable man.

“I’m not going to answer that other than to say that many people have said my business instincts and my father’s are the same, and aside from the fact that we both have helmed Macafee, I can’t see any other similarities.”

“My question isn’t really about the business, Conner. I want to know if you’re afraid of being too much like him.”

His mouth tightened and for the first time she felt a shiver of something almost like fear running down her spine. He wasn’t a man she wanted to be at odds with.

“No comment.”

“No comment?”

“Did I stutter?” he asked flippantly.

She stood up and walked to his desk. Placing both hands on the surface of it, she leaned over toward him. “We had a deal. I more than held up my end of the bargain.”

He steepled his fingers together and stared at her over the top of them.

“You did, red. I never expected for things to … get so hot, so fast.”

“Me neither.”

He gave her a little half smile as he dropped his hands to the armrest on his chair.

“I’m not asking for much. I won’t print a direct quote from you on this in my article, but I do want to know because I think that is part of the cornerstone of who you are today.”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t answer that.”

“Won’t is more like it. You owe me,” she said.

“Ask a different question,” he said. “I’ll allow you time to come up with one.”

“I have asked my question and I expect an answer. You didn’t bargain for any approval over the question I wanted to ask. I’m a reporter. I need the answer.”

“Reporters are only privy to certain parts of their subjects’ lives. As I’m sure you know.”

“Yes,” she said. “But certainly a mistress has more rights.”

“No,” he said. “I’m afraid she doesn’t. You only have the access that I grant you.”

She was stunned speechless. And so angry she wanted to punch him. He had tricked her. She doubted that if she went to bed with him he’d hold up his end of the bargain he’d wasted her morning trying to get her to agree to.

“Excuse me?” she said. For the first time he heard the tang of her Texas accent coming through.

“I’m not giving you carte blanche,” he said.

“I didn’t set any limits on that embrace,” she said.

“But you did,” he pointed out, remembering his strong desire to see the expanse of her creamy, freckle-covered skin.

“We’re in your office,” she said. “We can’t go too far.”

“Yes, we are,” he conceded. “But I believe you were attempting to do what I’m doing now. We are each limiting the access the other has to what they want. Trying to give away just enough to keep this going.”

She nibbled on her lower lip. “I can see where you’re coming from, but what you just said makes it almost impossible for me to trust you. I want this to work. I think that readers have an interest in you and not just your company.”

“I don’t care about the personal aspect. How would you feel if I asked you personal questions?”

“Go ahead,” she said. “I’m an open book.”

“Why are you still single?”

“I told you—I’m a workaholic. I love my work.”

“Me too,” he said. “There’s your answer.”

“Ha! That was my answer. We both know there is more to you than that.”

“And I know there is more to you than what you said. Something must have hurt you in the past to make work your sanctuary.”

He saw by the way she narrowed her eyes that he’d hit the nail on the head with that observation. “So? I’m not in the public eye.”

“Neither am I,” he said.

“That’s not true. You’re in the newspapers all the time and your sister has a cooking show … I think if we walked out on the street right now you’d be instantly recognizable. No one would know who I am. And that’s the reason why this article is so relevant.”

“I don’t believe there is any interest in me beyond gossip,” he said. “I’ve given you the answers I am going to.”

“You can be a hard-nose, can’t you?” she asked.

“And you can be a pit bull when you aren’t getting your way,” he said. “We are too similar. We both expect to win and in this situation it’s simply not going to happen.”

“I guess you think you’re the winner?” she asked.

“I intend to be,” he said.

“Well, then, there isn’t anything more to say, is there?” she said, standing up and gathering her bag.

He knew immediately that he’d made a huge mistake in how he’d worded that last bit. But she’d struck a nerve with her question. It was exactly as he’d feared when she’d asked to interview him. The information she wanted was too personal and he wasn’t about to let anyone—even someone as rocking-hot as Nichole—have that kind of access to him.

“You didn’t win,” she said, opening the office door and looking back over her shoulder at him. “I’m not giving up.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he said.

She walked out, hips swaying, making him wish his secretary hadn’t knocked on the door when she had. But there was no going back and changing the past; he knew that better than most. God knew there were a lot of things he’d change.

He sat back in his office chair and wondered if their encounter would affect her coverage of the show and of Matchmakers, Inc. He hoped she was professional enough not to let it.

He knew she was. She wanted the interview with him and she was going to keep working on different angles to get it. There was a part of him that was looking forward to her next move.

There was a knock on his door. “Come in.”

“Your next appointment is here,” Stella said. Stella was in her mid-forties, a single mother of two college-aged boys. She’d been his secretary for the last ten years and he relied on her a lot to make sure the office ran smoothly. “Shall I send him in?”

Conner glanced at the calendar on his computer screen. He wanted to groan. It was Deke, one of his old boarding school buddies whose family fortunes had been tied to a Ponzi scheme. Now he was in need of a job.

“Yes, please do,” he said. “Stella, don’t let this meeting run more than thirty minutes.”

“Yes, sir. I never do,” she said with a smile. Which was why she’d knocked on the door earlier.

Conner didn’t know what to do about his old friend. A part of him understood Deke way more than he wanted to. He knew what it was like to see your family name in the papers with scandal attached to it.

He stood up as Deke entered. He was six foot and had dark curly hair. He’d rowed crew at boarding school and still had the upper-body strength of an athlete. But Deke’s family money had meant that he’d spent the last fifteen years jet-setting around the world. He had no real-world skills.

“Hello, Deke,” Conner said, holding out his hand.

Deke shook it. “Hey, man. Thanks for seeing me today.”

“No problem. I meant to call you, but I’ve been busy. What can I do for you?” Conner asked.

Deke looked uneasy for a moment, then gave him a smile. “I have an investment opportunity for you.”

Conner suspected as much, which was why he’d put his friend off as long as he had. He walked back to his desk, gesturing for Deke to take a seat in the chair that Nichole had recently occupied, and then invited his friend to explain the opportunity to him.

While Deke talked, Conner’s mind wandered back to the time of his life when he’d been in Deke’s shoes. Luckily, Conner had been young enough to readjust, but Deke was an adult, used to a certain standard of living.

“I don’t have many skills, but I’m damn good at sailing and my wife suggested we start up one of those barefoot-type vacation cruises. All my assets have been seized, so I don’t have my old yacht, which is where you’d come in. If you agree, I’d like you to invest in one yacht that I can use for these high-end sailing vacations.”

Actually, it was a great idea. Conner asked a few more questions and Deke produced a business plan with some solid numbers in it. Seemed Deke had married a woman from a working-class background who wasn’t afraid to help her husband out of a bad situation.

Conner agreed to invest in the company from his private funds and not Macafee International’s. Deke was a happy man and once he left Conner felt strangely alone.

He knew it was his own choice to be where he was, but hearing Deke talk about his wife and her ideas had made him long for something he never had before.

Conner wondered if Nichole would react the same way if her man got in trouble. He didn’t know. But then he didn’t know anything about her except that he wanted her.