Читать книгу Millionaire: Needed for One Month - Maureen Child, Christie Ridgway - Страница 13

By the time they reached the lodge, snow had dusted their hair and shoulders and was thick enough in the air that every breath tasted like ice.

When Keira would have turned down the driveway to head for her truck, Nathan caught her elbow and tugged her up the back steps to the house by the lake.

“Nathan …”

He stopped on the top step, looked down into her soft green eyes and said, “You might as well wait out the storm here.”

She hunched deeper into her jacket, swung her snow-dusted hair out of her eyes and said, “It might not stop for a few hours.”

Glad to hear it, he almost said and was glad he'd managed to clamp his jaw shut. But the truth was, he didn't want to go back into that too-damned-quiet lodge. It was bad enough to be trapped there in the silence when the sun was shining. He had a feeling that being alone with the falling snow and lowering clouds would make him feel as though he were buried alive in a dark cave. Not something he really wanted to experience.

“And it might stop in a few minutes,” he pointed out, but, as if to prove that prediction false, the wind kicked up and the snow flew in frenzied flurries.

“If I was home right now,” Keira said, “I'd make myself some hot chocolate.”

“I can probably handle that,” he said. “Or, there's some excellent brandy.”

She climbed up a step, coming that much closer to him, and the depths in her green eyes called to him, reached for him. “Brandy would be good, too. Got anything to eat?”

He held out one hand and waited for her to take it. When she did, his fingers folded tightly around hers. “There's plenty of stuff in the fridge.”

She took the last step that brought her beside him and gave him a smile that warmed him through, despite the icy wind and the snow sneaking beneath the collar of his jacket. “Then why are we still standing in the storm?”

They walked across the covered deck, stepped into the mudroom and pulled off their jackets and boots. Then, together, they went into the kitchen. The room was cavernous, with built in niches for the stainless steel appliances and a mile of granite counter. The walls were painted to give them an antiqued finish, and the colors were warm cream and brown, making the kitchen seem cozy even in the midst of a storm.

“Let's get that brandy first, worry about food later,” Nathan said, and led the way from the kitchen to the great room.

“Good plan,” she said and shivered a little as she followed him down the hall.

A fire was blazing in the hearth and Keira moved straight toward it as Nathan walked to the wet bar. He poured them each a drink, then walked to join her by the fire. Handing her one of the crystal snifters, he watched the amber liquid swirl in the bottom of his glass for a long moment before he took a sip.

He swallowed and felt the alcohol fueled fire rush through him as he shifted his gaze to Keira. Firelight played on her skin and danced in her eyes. The ends of her hair shone with a nearly incandescent light and when she lifted her glass to her lips, everything inside him tightened.

After taking a sip, she blew out a breath, smiled and looked up at him. “Wow. Well, that warms you up fast, doesn't it?”

Nathan ground his teeth together and then took a sip of his own brandy. The heat it produced was nothing like the other kind of heat swamping him. Just looking at Keira made him burn.

For more than a week now, he had tried not to think about her, to put this insane attraction out of his mind. But he hadn't been able to manage it. When he closed his eyes, he saw her. When he dreamed, he touched her. When he thought he would go out of his mind from the silence in this place, she arrived and he nearly went out of his mind for different reasons entirely.

She sat down on the stone hearth, the fire at her back, and looked up at him as she cradled the brandy snifter between her palms. “So, Nathan, are you the Barrister Hotel guy?”

One eyebrow rose and he took another sip of his brandy, welcoming the steady fire. “Hotel guy? Yeah. I suppose I am. How'd you know?”

She smiled. “Just a guess. Hunter's Landing isn't exactly on the moon. We get newspapers and magazines here, too. Which one of your hotels is your favorite?”

He shrugged carelessly. “I don't really have a favorite, they're all top-of-the-line establishments, each of them with their own unique pluses and minuses.”

“Boy, feel the enthusiasm.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Well, come on, Nathan, you own four-star hotels—”

“Five-star,” he amended automatically.

“Right. In beautiful, exotic places all over the world. You talk about them as if they're nothing special. As if they're no different from any other exclusive hotels. Is that really what you think?”

Nathan frowned, sat down beside her and instantly appreciated the heat of the fire warming his back. “It's the family business, Keira. They're valuable properties with impeccable reputations that I work hard to maintain.”

“Uh-huh,” she said and nudged his upper arm with her shoulder. “And do you ever drop in on one in say … Paris, or Dublin … just for fun?”

“No,” he said and wondered why he cared that she looked disappointed at his statement. “I have a rigorous schedule I adhere to. The managers of the hotels know when I'm coming, know to have everything ready for my inspection and—”

She sighed.

“What?”

“Do they salute? Click their heels together when you walk into a room?”

He scowled at her. “I'm not a general or something.”

“Could have fooled me,” she muttered, and took another sip of brandy. “Seriously, do you scare all the people who work for you? I bet you do.”

“Certainly not,” Nathan said and wondered why he suddenly sounded so damn pompous, even to himself.

“You know,” she said, lifting her brandy glass to peer at the room through the amber liquid, “if you changed up your schedule once in a while, you might actually catch people unaware. Find out what life in your hotels is really like.”

He stared at her, but she wasn't looking at him. Her words, though, were running through his brain as if they'd been etched in neon. Funny, but he'd never thought to do something like that. He was a man who lived his life as efficiently as possible. And to do that, he required a schedule. But …

“You mean, I should show up when they're not expecting me?”

“Why not?” she mused. “They're your hotels, aren't they?”

“Yes, but a schedule is necessary to maintain some kind of order.”

“And if the kids know that daddy's coming home, they're on their best behavior.”

Frowning, Nathan kept staring at her until she finally turned and looked at him, her eyes wide.

“What?” she asked.

“I can't believe I never thought of that.”

“Me, neither,” she said, smiling. “For heaven's sake, Nathan, do you ever do something that you don't have scheduled? Do you ever take a little time out for yourself? You're wound so tight, it gives me a headache.”

He sighed and shrugged. “In my world, there's no time for relaxing.”

“You should make time.” She turned on the hearth, laid one hand on his forearm and asked, “For instance, when you're at one of your fabulous, oh-so-exclusive hotels, do you ever take a swim? Get a massage? Sightsee?”

“No. I'm not there for pleasure—”

“Why not?”

“Because …”

“People all over the world want to go to your hotels to experience something amazing. I've seen some of them on TV. And in magazines. God, the one in London, I would actually kill to stay in.”

He smiled, picturing the stately stone entrance of the London Barrister with its sweeping marble floors and Old World chandeliers in the lobby.

“It is beautiful,” he mused, surprised that he hadn't really appreciated the place until seeing it through Keira's enthusiasm.

“It's amazing,” she said with a sigh. “Some rock star held an interview in the penthouse suite and the news covered it—there was an incredible view of London.”

“The view from the owner's suite is even more impressive,” he told her, picturing it vividly now in his mind. “You can see Big Ben in the distance and the Millennium Wheel.”

“The huge Ferris wheel!” she cried and grabbed his arm hard. “Have you ridden it?” She paused, and said, “Of course you haven't. Honestly, Nathan, don't you ever have any fun?”

A little insulted, he said, “Sure I do.”

“Prove it. Name one thing you've done just for fun in the last month,” she challenged.

“I sat on a stone hearth letting a beautiful woman insult me.”

She tipped her head to one side, gave him a smile that made his heart jitter in his chest and repeated, “Beautiful?”

“Figures that's the part you heard.”

Her smile brightened into a grin. “Well, duh.”

He really enjoyed the flash of humor in her eyes. And for the first time in way too long, he realized there wasn't a steel band wrapped around his middle. There was no pressure pounding through him. No hurry to get work done. To check his e-mail. To leave the lodge.

Because suddenly and completely, there was simply nowhere else on earth he'd rather be.

The quiet between them stretched on for another minute or two, the only sound in the room, the snap and hiss of the fire behind them. Shadows stretched across the room and, outside, dots of white swirled in ever changing patterns driven by the wind.

“I envy you,” she said quietly. “All the places you've seen.”

“You like traveling?”

“Never really traveled much, but yeah, I think I would.” She folded her legs up beneath her on the stone, her white socks standing out brilliantly against her dark denim jeans. “I had big plans,” she admitted. “When I was a teenager, I went to bookstores and bought street maps of foreign cities. If you had dropped me into the middle of Paris, I could have found my way around blindfolded, I studied those maps so often. London, Dublin, Barcelona, Rome, oh … Venice.” Her voice took on a dreamy quality that tugged at something deep inside him. “I wanted to drink wine while riding in a gondola. And see the windmills in Holland, and the Swiss Alps …”

“But …”

“But,” she said, giving him a dazzling smile and lifting her glass for another sip of brandy, “life happened. I had to take care of Kelly, and then I got busy with the town and …”

“You stopped reading your maps?”

“Oh, no,” she said, “I've still got them all and I still pore over them and plan trips and, one of these days, I'll get away.” She looked down into her glass and asked, “What about you? When the month is up, where do you go next?”

“Barbados for a couple of weeks, then Madrid.”

She sighed. “It sounds wonderful.”

“Barbados or Madrid?”

“Both. But Barbados first. A tropical island.” She sighed again.

“A beautiful one,” he agreed.

She leaned her head against his shoulder and said, “Show me.”

“Can't. Don't have any pictures of it.”

“No,” she said softly, “Draw me a picture with words. Show it to me through your memories of the place.”

Nathan frowned down at the top of her head and tried to give her what she wanted. He thought about the Barbados Barrister for a long moment, bringing it up in his mind, then slowly said, “It's our newest hotel. Only been open a few months. It sits right on the beach, stretches out almost a block. It has five stories for guest rooms and the sixth floor is the owner's suite.” His voice warmed as his memories thickened and the ease of sharing them became more comfortable. “The views stretch on forever. The ocean is so blue you're not sure if you're looking at the sea or the sky.”

“Keep going,” she said.

He smiled. “There are palm trees and sand so white it hurts to look at it. Green-and-white striped umbrellas surround an infinity pool, and waiters dressed in green shirts and white pants carry trays of drinks to the people lounging poolside.”

“More,” she said, nestling in closer.

The feel of her leaning into him, the heat of the fire behind them and the quiet of the house all made for a feeling of intimacy that Nathan hadn't allowed himself to feel in years.

“Inside the hotel,” he continued, “the wood is pale, almost gold. The windows are always open, and the sea wind sweeps through the lobby where pots of flowers and trailing vines make it seem almost like a jungle.” He rested his head on top of hers. “There are deck chairs on a wide, white porch that stretches the length of the first floor, and people sit out there, sometimes all day, just to watch the ocean. And the restaurant has an outside deck where you can dine and watch the sunset.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

“Actually,” he said, not a little surprised himself, “it really is.”

She raised her head and smiled up at him. “I'm going to buy a map of Barbados,” she said, “and I'm putting that hotel on my list.”

He smoothed her hair back from her face, his fingertips lingering on the softness of her skin. She closed her eyes at his touch and shivered a little as his fingers slid down to her jaw.

“I'll put your name on the VIP list,” he whispered, threading his fingers through her silky hair again just to enjoy the sensation.

“Nathan?”

“Keira …”

“The storm's still blowing,” she said softly, her gaze locked with his. “What will we do while we wait it out?”

“We could eat,” he offered.

“True,” she said. “Or you could tell me about another of your hotels.”

“Or play chess.”

“Watch a movie.”

“Read.”

She nodded and reached up to catch his hand with hers and hold it against her cheek. “All good ideas. But, I have a better idea.”

Nathan bit back a groan as she leaned in close to him. His body was hard and tight and every breath now was a victory. If he didn't have her in the next few minutes, he was going to explode. “Yeah?” he asked. “What's that?”

“I think you know,” she said and took one more sip of brandy before setting her glass down on the hearth.

Nathan tipped his head back and tossed the last of his brandy down his throat before setting his glass down beside hers.

“Possibly,” he said, though a voice in his brain was telling him to stop now before it was too late. But damn it, he wanted her. Keira's image had been haunting him for days—she'd gotten to him more than any other woman he'd ever known. He wasn't used to waiting for something he wanted. Usually, he simply took what most women were more than willing to offer. Keira was different. “Why don't you tell me, and I'll let you know if we're on the same page.”

“Why don't I show you?” she whispered, and then pressed her mouth to his.

Air.

He probably needed air, because the edges of his vision were blurring and his brain felt as if it had been short-circuited. But breathing didn't seem as important as kissing her—harder, deeper—did.

Nathan groaned, pulled her in tightly to him and opened her mouth with a sweep of his tongue. She sighed into him as he tasted her, tangling their tongues together in a wild, frantic dance of need and promise.

He felt her hands tighten on his shoulders, her fingers digging into the soft fabric of his sweater to brand his skin with match-head dots of flame. Electricity hummed between them and Nathan surrendered to the sensations coursing through him.

He needed her.

Now.

He pulled her into his arms and settled her on his lap. His hands swept up and down her back, defining her curves through the soft knit of her sweater. She sighed heavily, pressed herself more firmly to him and rubbed her body against his.

Nathan's mouth moved over hers like a dying man seeking the only sustenance left in the world. He shared his breath with her and she gave it back to him. Their tongues and lips melded, savored, enjoyed. Nathan slipped both hands beneath the hem of her sweater and his palms slid across her back, his fingertips smoothing over her satiny skin.

She tore her mouth free, let her head fall back and sighed at his touch. “Nathan …”

He lowered his head, kissing her jaw, her neck, following the line of her throat with his lips and teeth and tongue. She shivered in his grasp and fed the need pulsing inside him.

Lifting his head, Nathan looked down at her as his hands, sliding beneath her sweater, swept around her body to find the front clasp on her bra. Deftly, he undid the tiny plastic clip, then pushed her bra free and cupped her breasts in his palms. His thumbs caressed her hardened nipples as his fingers kneaded her soft flesh.

Her hands clutched at his shoulders as he held her tightly to his lap, letting her feel the hard length of him.

Need roared and crashed through Nathan until he could hardly draw breath. He couldn't remember ever wanting like this before. He couldn't remember another woman in his life who had pushed him to the razor's edge of rationality. All he could think of was Keira.

All he wanted was Keira.

He didn't care what it might mean.

What it might cost him.

Didn't want to examine every feeling, every ache.

He only wanted to lose himself in her. For this one moment in time, he wanted nothing more than the feel of her beneath his hands and the sensation of burying his body within the hot, tight channel of hers.

“I've got to have you,” he whispered, hearing the raw throb in his own voice.

“Me, too,” she said, opening her eyes and pulling herself upright, leaning into him. “Oh, Nathan, me, too. Now, okay?”

“Right now.” He pulled his hands free of her body, not even thinking about how empty he felt without the warmth of her pouring into him. Then he stood up, set her on her feet and led her across the great room toward the foyer and the majestic staircase that led to the second floor and the master bedroom. With their boots off, their sock feet made almost no noise at all in their rush for the stairs.

She stumbled behind him, kicked an end table and letting go of his hand, hopped ungainly for a minute, whimpering. “Ow, ow …”

Nathan turned, swept her up into his arms and said thickly, “Okay, I'm carrying you from here. I'm not taking any chances with a tumble down the stairs.”

“Right, right,” she said and leaned in to nibble at his throat as his long legs took the steep stairs two at a time.

He hissed in a breath, took a sharp turn at the head of the stairs and headed for the only bedroom in the place that had been furnished.

Keira looked around quickly as Nathan carried her into the master bedroom. The log walls were pale and the honey-colored floorboards gleamed from a thick coat of polish. A stone hearth, much like the one in the great room, boasted a fire that warmed the room and made it feel, for all its size, cozy. A bank of windows overlooked the lake and the forest and showcased the snow falling steadily.

But Keira didn't really care about the storm or the decor. All she was interested in now was the feel of Nathan's arms around her as he walked toward the huge, dark sleigh bed tucked against the far wall. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest as Nathan set her on her feet, grabbed a corner of the old-fashioned quilt and tossed it to the foot of the bed.

Then he grabbed her again and Keira stopped thinking in favor of feeling.

His mouth claimed hers again and her brain sizzled. Every nerve ending she possessed hummed with an awareness she'd never experienced before. His lips and tongue tasted her, tormented her, and she gave as good as she got.

Holding on to his shoulders, she pushed her body against his and rubbed her aching nipples across his chest. She needed him. And that thought was enough to make her splintered brain try to work for a second or two. She knew she should stop. Think about what she was doing.

But a heartbeat later, when Nathan pulled her sweater up and over her head, and bent to take one hardened nipple into his mouth, Keira silently told the cautionary voice in her mind to shut up.