Читать книгу Wanted by the Boss - Maureen Child, Kathie DeNosky - Страница 10

Four

Their suite was bigger than the one he usually took when he stayed here. Of course, Rick thought, usually he didn’t bring his secretary with him. Margo wouldn’t have come along, preferring to be at home on the weekends with her husband. As for Eileen, he probably should never have pretended—to both of them—that he’d needed her on this trip.

Just the drive on the freeway had been torturous. His hormones were doing the kind of back flips they hadn’t done since he’d hit puberty and had his first fantasy about…what the hell was her name? He shook his head. Didn’t matter. And it would probably be a good idea to keep the word fantasy out of his mind, too.

God knows, he didn’t need any encouragement.

He watched Eileen walk around the big living room, inspecting the whole place, from the books lining the bookshelves, to the hearth, already set and ready for a romantic fire. An overstuffed sofa in a pale flowered fabric crouched in front of the fireplace and two matching wing chairs sat on either side of it. Gleaming wood tables held vases of fresh flowers and dozens of scented candles dotted nearly every surface of the room.

‘‘It’s gorgeous.’’

He nodded. She certainly was. That black skirt of hers had been driving him nuts since she’d arrived at the office. She’d left her car in the parking lot at the office so they could drive down together. And during that long hour and a half, his gaze had slipped to her bare legs often. Her dark red shirt was plain, businesslike, and yet still managed to give his heart a kick start. Her hair, though, tempted him sorely. The long, loose waves draping around her shoulders made him want to spear his fingers through it. He’d had to keep a tight grip on the steering wheel, just to defeat the urge to reach out and see if her hair felt as soft as it looked.

‘‘Shall I set up on that table?’’

‘‘Hmm?’’ He gave himself a mental shake and stared at her. ‘‘What?’’

‘‘The first meeting.’’ She checked her silver wristwatch, then looked at him. ‘‘Your Mr. Harrington should be here in about twenty minutes.’’

‘‘Yeah.’’ Edward Harrington. Client. Business. Good. Concentrate. ‘‘Sure. Uh, set up his files there and I’ll order room service for when he gets here.’’

‘‘I can take care of it.’’

‘‘Fine.’’ Rick picked up his suitcase. ‘‘Which bedroom do you want?’’

‘‘Doesn’t matter,’’ she said with a shrug. ‘‘Surprise me.’’

Something jumped inside him, but he buried it fast. The kind of surprise he’d like to show her had nothing to do with the choice of a bedroom, but what to do inside it. ‘‘You take the one on the right. I’ll take this one.’’

He didn’t wait for a response before escaping into the bedroom and shutting the door. Dropping his suitcase, he walked across the room to the tall bureau and stared at his reflection in the silvered mirror above it. Shoving both hands through his hair, he met his own gaze grimly. ‘‘Keep your mind on business, Hawkins. Anything else is just a world of trouble.’’

Lightning shimmered in the distance and thunder rolled across the sky to growl like a caged tiger in the living room of the suite. Eileen hugged herself and stepped through the French doors and out onto the narrow balcony. The wind slapped at her, lifting her hair and twisting it around her head in a wild tangle of curls. She reached up and scooped it back, then tipped her face into the wind, loving the feel of it rushing past her. The scent of coming rain surrounded her and she felt as if her skin was electrified by the building storm.

In the blustery weather, no one else was outside and they had the only balcony on this side of the house. It was private, secluded.

Behind her, lamplight glowed in a pale, golden haze over the table where Rick sat, still working over the last of Ed Harrington’s file. She half turned to look at him and caught herself noticing how he ran his fingers through his hair. How his tie always crooked to the right when he was tired enough to loosen it. How his eyes shone in the lamplight. How his shoulders looked broader without the confines of his ever-present suit jacket.

Her blood pumped simply looking at him and she turned around, grateful that he was still immersed in his work. Just as well, she told herself, curling her fingers around the wrought-iron railing. They’d done fine all day, working side by side. She’d listened to him advising Ed about investments and his portfolios and even though she hadn’t understood a word of it, she’d had to admit to being impressed.

But now that the work was finished for the day, her brain was free to think about other things. And not one of them had anything to do with his brain.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the edges of the clouds overhead and tracing white-hot, jagged fingers across the sky. Thunder boomed, closer this time.

‘‘You’re gonna get wet in a minute.’’

Her pulse quickened as Rick stepped out onto the balcony beside her. ‘‘I love a storm,’’ she said over the rumble of thunder. ‘‘We don’t see many of them.’’

‘‘Good thing. Had to shut the computer off because of the lightning.’’

Eileen smiled. ‘‘Poor worker bee. Had to stop.’’

‘‘There’s always the battery.’’

She nodded. ‘‘So why’re you out here?’’

He shifted his gaze from her to the storm-tossed sky. ‘‘Like you said, we don’t see many of ’em.’’ He leaned forward and braced his hands on the railing. ‘‘You were good today.’’

‘‘Thanks.’’ Nice compliment but she hadn’t done all that much. Typing while they talked wasn’t that tough.

He sighed and looked out over the garden below and the hills beyond the inn. ‘‘Edward’s never talked that much. He’s been a client for two years and I’ve never heard him talk about his late wife.’’ Turning his head, he looked at her. ‘‘But you had him reminiscing inside a half hour.’’

‘‘He thinks you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread,’’ she said, remembering how the older man had heaped praise on Rick. ‘‘He said you took his modest savings account and fixed it so that he doesn’t have to worry—’’ she paused and smiled ‘‘—and that his grandkids will say great things about him because he left them so much money!’’

Rick grinned and shook his head. ‘‘His grandkids are nuts about him. He takes them fishing every weekend.’’

‘‘And he says that you’ve made lots of money for all of his friends,’’ Eileen said, as if he hadn’t spoken. ‘‘They buy him coffee every morning at the doughnut shop, just to thank him for referring you to them.’’

‘‘That’s nice to hear.’’ His gaze drifted over her lazily.

‘‘He says you’re the smartest man he’s ever met.’’

‘‘He exaggerates.’’

‘‘Maybe.’’ But Eileen had to admit, she’d seen a whole new side of Rick today. Though to be fair, she’d been seeing him anew all week. The terrible boy he’d been was gone, and in his place was a thoughtful, intelligent man who was as careful with his clients’ life savings as he would have been with his own grandmother’s. Plus, he looked incredibly good when his tie was loose.

Whoops. Where did that come from?

‘‘Ed’s a sweetheart,’’ she said quickly, jumping back to their conversation. ‘‘Sweet, sad and still lonely for the woman he loved most of his life.’’

‘‘He enjoyed talking about her today.’’

She nodded. ‘‘All I did was listen. He was nice.’’

‘‘Yeah,’’ Rick agreed, staring into her eyes with a steadiness that made her shaky. ‘‘You’re pretty nice yourself.’’

‘‘Wow.’’ She waved a hand at her face dramatically, as if to ease a nonexistent blush. ‘‘My little heart’s fluttering.’’

‘‘Uh-huh.’’ A wry grin touched one corner of his mouth. ‘‘Smells good out here,’’ he said, and slid his hand on the railing until it brushed against hers.

Her skin heated, warmth rushing through her bloodstream. ‘‘It’s the rain in the wind.’’

‘‘Nope,’’ he said, turning his head to look at her. ‘‘It’s more like—’’ he leaned in closer to her, inhaled ‘‘—flowers.’’

Her breath caught when she stared into his eyes.

‘‘It’s you, Eileen.’’ His gaze shifted, moving over her face, her throat, her breasts, and back up again.

‘‘Rick…’’ She hadn’t expected this. Hadn’t expected him to say anything about the tension simmering between them. And now that he had, she wasn’t sure what to do about it.

Her body, on the other hand, knew just what to do. Her heartbeat crashed in her ears, louder than the thunder booming out around them. Heat spiraled through her body, churning her insides, fogging her brain, liquefying her knees.

He drew back and turned his head to stare out into the night and the blustering storm. ‘‘Forget it,’’ he muttered. ‘‘Shouldn’t have said anything. Just let it go.’’

She should, Eileen told herself. If there was ever a moment to pay attention, to take an order, now was it. She should do just what he said and forget he’d ever opened this particular can of worms.

But she wouldn’t.

Couldn’t.

‘‘Don’t want to let it go,’’ she admitted, and her words were nearly swallowed by the next slam of thunder.

He snapped her a look and slowly straightened, reaching for her, drawing her up close. ‘‘We should, though.’’

‘‘Right.’’ She laid her hands on his forearms. ‘‘We don’t even like each other.’’

‘‘Yeah. You’re a flake.’’

‘‘And you’re wound so tight, in a hundred years, you’ll be a diamond.’’

‘‘So,’’ he said, ‘‘we forget the whole thing.’’

‘‘That would be the reasonable thing to do,’’ she said, and swept her hands up his arms to encircle his neck.

‘‘I want you more than my next breath,’’ he said tightly. ‘‘Screw reason.’’

His mouth came down on hers just as another, bigger, slash of lightning scraped jagged fingers across the sky. Brilliant light flashed before her closed eyelids and Eileen felt the sizzle in the air. As the following thunder boomed around them, it seemed to pale in comparison to the thudding of her own heart.

Rick lifted his head and stared down at her, his breath rushing from his lungs. Behind them, the room was dark, plunged into blackness.

‘‘Power’s out,’’ he murmured.

‘‘Not from where I’m standing,’’ she said, meeting his gaze, her blood quickening on the hunger she read there.

A cold, strong wind whipped past them, wrapped itself around their bodies like a frigid embrace, then dissolved in their combined heat. Lightning flashed, thunder rolled and desire, fed by the raging storm, clawed at them. Air rushed in and out of Eileen’s lungs and still, she felt light-headed, as if a fog were settling over her brain, making thought impossible. But who needed to think when your blood was racing and your stomach was spinning and all points south were tingling in anticipation?

Rick must have felt the same because he took her mouth again. Hunger roared through her as he plundered her. His tongue parted her lips and swept into her warmth, tasting, exploring, plunging again and again into her depths. She welcomed him, her tongue meeting his in a tangled dance of need.

She arched forward, pressing herself into him, and moving, rubbing her aching nipples against his chest and torturing herself with the action. Her knees went weak and she tightened her grip on his shoulders to keep herself upright. His hands moved over her body, up and down her spine. He dragged her shirt free of the waistband of her skirt and skimmed his hands beneath it. Her skin tingled, firing with his touch until she felt as if every square inch of her body were bursting into flame.

He tore his mouth from hers and shifted lower, running his lips and tongue along her throat, tasting her pulse point at the base of her neck.

Eileen groaned and tipped her head back, inviting more, silently asking for more. And he gave. His lips and tongue teased her. His teeth nibbled at her skin, sending ripples of awareness and greed dancing through her. She clung to him, digging her fingers into his shoulders and, even while her brain sizzled with sensation, she was alert enough to notice that beneath his starched white shirt, his muscles had muscles.

‘‘I can’t get enough of the taste of you,’’ he muttered, his breath dusting her skin as his words quickened her pulse.

He dropped his hands to the waistband of her skirt again and Eileen hung on as she heard and felt the zipper slide down. As soon as the black fabric was parted, he shoved it down over her hips. She felt the fabric slip along her legs and pool at her feet. Quickly, eagerly, she stepped free of the skirt and kicked it aside.

Cold, damp air caressed her bare skin, but she was too hot to care. Nothing mattered but the touch of his hands on her body. The feel of his mouth across her skin. And she needed more. Needed all of him. Now. She shifted her hold on him, her hands moving around to the front of his shirt. Quickly, deftly, her fingers undid the buttons on that white conservative business shirt and once she had the fabric parted, she scooped her hands across the white T-shirt beneath. Even through the warm cotton fabric, she felt the clearly defined muscles he hid so well.

He sucked in air through clenched teeth, then let her go long enough to pull off his dress shirt, then yank off the T-shirt.

‘‘Wow,’’ she murmured, her gaze dropping to the broad expanse of his chest. His flesh was golden-brown, still tanned from summer, and deeply cut, with each muscle defined as if by an unseen sculptor. She ran the flat of her hands across his skin, twining her fingers through the dusting of brown curls and smiling when his breath hitched. ‘‘You’re hiding an awful lot under those suits and ties.’’

He grinned wickedly. ‘‘You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.’’

Her stomach pitched and deep within her the flames burned hotter.

Rick reached for her, his fingers tearing at her shirt buttons. Hell, why’d they have to make buttons so damn small? Impatience drove him and he damn near gave in to the driving urge to just rip the blouse off her body. But then the last of the buttons slid free and he was pushing the shirt off her shoulders and looking down at the silky, dark red teddy she wore. Lace decorated the bodice, caressing the tops of her breasts. Her nipples, hard, erect, pushed against the fragile fabric and his mouth watered. He wanted to taste her. All of her. He wanted her beneath him, he wanted her over him. He just wanted her.

More than he’d ever wanted anything.

Rick lifted both hands to cup her breasts and she wilted into him, tipping her head back, shaking that glorious hair. She moaned, her mouth opening on the sound, her tongue sliding across her bottom lip in a not too subtle message.

Lightning crackled again and the resulting boom of thunder clapped directly overhead, rattling the windowpanes and electrifying the air. The scent of coming rain filled him, but it could have poured on them and he still wouldn’t have moved. Holding her here, in the open. In the darkness with the crash of nature all around them, felt…right. He wanted her here. On the balcony.

Now.

His thumbs and forefingers tweaked her nipples, tugging, pulling, sliding over the tips, pulling the fabric taut and using it to torture her gently. She twisted, moving into him, pressing her abdomen against his erection until he couldn’t stand the wait any longer. Letting her go briefly, he ordered, ‘‘Stay here.’’

He stepped into the darkened hotel suite, but in moments, he was back. While the storm raged around them, he tore the rest of his clothes off, then reached for her again.

‘‘Just a second,’’ she whispered brokenly, and tugged the hem of her red lace teddy up and over her head, baring her breasts to him. In the electrified night, her skin glowed with a creamy translucence. Dark red lace panties were all she wore and he ached to get her out of those, too.

She stepped into his embrace, and Rick’s arms came around her, holding her close, pressing her body along the length of his. Bodies brushed together. Soft to hard, rough to smooth. And with each touch, the storm between them grew stronger.

‘‘Gotta have you,’’ he murmured against her mouth as he took her bottom lip, and then her top lip between his teeth, tasting, nibbling, claiming.

‘‘Oh yeah,’’ she said, swallowing hard as she took a tiny bite of his neck. ‘‘Now. Please, now.’’

‘‘Now,’’ he agreed, and with one quick turn of his wrist, snapped the flimsy elastic band of her panties. The red silk dropped from her skin and lay like a forgotten flag on the balcony’s gleaming wood floor.

Lifting her easily, he sat her on the narrow metal railing and she yelped at the kiss of cold iron on her bare behind. One brief spurt of panic shot through her, remembering that they were on the second story. But his hands were strong and warm, holding her safely, tightly. Then he kissed her again, taking her mouth in a long, fast, hard plunge of desire. Panic receded and the heat between them fired and exploded.

Tearing her mouth from his, she fought for air as she held tightly to his shoulders. ‘‘Now, Rick,’’ she urged as she parted her legs for him, ‘‘I want you inside me. Now.’’

Her hands on his shoulders speared heat through his body and it was all Rick could do to one-handedly slide the condom he’d retrieved from the bedroom into place. Then, without another thought beyond easing the turmoil raging within him, he pushed himself inside her.

She gasped and tipped her head back, staring wide-eyed up at the stormy sky.

His hands clutched her waist in a firm grip, holding her safely. Holding her to him. In and out, he rocked within her, claiming her, taking her, giving her all he could give and taking the same from her. Her hot body surrounded him, holding him as tightly as he held her.

Above them, lightning flashed again and again. Thunder roared, crashing down on them, muffling the sounds they made as they came together in an urgency that mirrored the strength of the storm.

Bodies meshed, breaths met, mouths claimed, hands gripped.

Eileen felt him slide in and out of her body and felt the quickening rush of expectation building within her. He drove her, pushing them both higher, faster, until all she could see was the lightning reflected in his eyes. Dazzling flashes of light dancing across deep brown pools of emotion, sensation and she lost herself in it—in him.

She felt wicked. Wild. Wanton.

Surrounded by the storm, the cold, sharp wind, scented with rain, pushed at them, enveloping them. The metal railing beneath her was cold and narrow, but Rick’s hold on her made her feel safe enough to enjoy the thrill of the moment. To concentrate on nothing more than the hard, solid strength of him driving into her body.

Eileen lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist as her climax neared. She moved into him, rocking as much as she dared, taking as much of him as he gave, offering herself and pulling him closer, deeper, within her.

The rain started.

Icy pellets of water sluiced over them in a rush.

As if the sky had reached the point of no return and hadn’t been able to hold back any longer.

Eileen knew the feeling.

With rain cascading over them, she shook her wet hair back from her face and fought for breath. Her mind splintered. Her body exploded.

‘‘Rick…Rick…’’ Her fingers flexed on his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh, holding on, squeezing as he pushed her up that last, sweet climb to release. She looked into his eyes and watched him as he kissed her. His tongue swept across her lips, her teeth, moving inside, taking her breath and giving her his. She felt it all. Felt the magic build. Felt the sudden sway of her body tipping into oblivion, and then she groaned and rode the wave of completion, locked within his grasp, his mouth muffling her cries.

And before her body had stopped trembling, he plunged deep within her and stiffened, reaching his own release in time to join her on the slow slide down from heaven.